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jordyn14 · 2 months

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Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all | Joe Burrow

Summary: After a terrible start to a day that had such high hopes, two people do something that should lead to an even worse day, but in ends up better than it started.

Pairing: Joe burrow x first person fem reader

Words: 5058

Notes: this fic is kind of all over the place, but I didn’t want to split it up into 2 fics. I hope you enjoy!! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

The Bengals season was officially over following the win against the browns on January 7th, though we all knew it was over after the loss against the Chiefs on December 31 which kicked them out of playoff contention. In honor of adding another season into the books, Sam was hosting a little party for any player or friend of a player who wanted to come today. To say the day was not going great so far was the understatement of the century. First, as soon as I woke up in the morning, I stepped in some fresh poop from Mike, the cat I got Joe for his birthday, who apparently forgot where the litter box was. Because she's new-yes, she, Joe named her after Mike the Tiger at LSU-and I absolutely adore her, I shook it off and took a very in dept shower, making sure to scrub my feet extra good in order to rid myself of it completely.

Next, during breakfast, I was transferring my eggs onto my plate after putting some on Joes and the handle broke off of the pan and dropped onto my feet. The eggs went everywhere on the ground and were quickly eaten by Tucker, the dog Joe got me for Christmas, who flew in immediately after hearing the commotion to see what happened. I thought I was in the clear since two bad things happened to me in a span of an hour and a half-so what else could go wrong-but that was soon proven wrong when I was carrying Joe and I's pre-workout smoothie so we could get in a light workout together in the basement, and I tripped down the stairs. Not only did I spill the smoothie all over myself and the stairs, which made for an annoying clean up, but I also face planted, which made for an awesome bruise right on my jaw.

After that, I showered for the second time, drank the new smoothie Joe whipped up for the both of us, and we got in our little workout for the day. Once done with the workout, I took Tucker for a walk and went to the grocery to store to stock up on all of the necessities. While in the grocery store, I completely forgot that I was supposed to start my period, so I got blood all over my new jogging pants Joe gifted me for Christmas and had to buy a new pair of pants at the store, along with a pack of tampons, which weren't the ones I usually buy because, ironically, they were all out.

Finally, everything seemed to be going right for me and the day turned out pretty good, until it came time to get ready for Sam's party. I did my hair and my makeup without a single problem, but then of course when I put on my new dress that I was excited for, I put it on only for me to realize the zipper broke when I washed it. Because I was on my period and very hormonal, I started to cry. My mascara got all over my face and when I tried to wipe it off, my other makeup came off with it so I had to redo it all. Plus, while crying, Joe tried to comfort me, and because I was hormonal, I got mad and told him to get away from me. What made me cry more was that Since my new dress broke, I had to wear an old one that wasn't anywhere near as pretty as the other one.

So, now, as Joe pulled into the parking lot, I took a deep breath and prayed that this night wouldn't be a disaster like the whole day was. The party was at a little convention center in the middle of Cincinnati that has held frequent get togethers and parties in the past. Since this party symbolized the end of the season and it could be the last time some of the guys see each other, it was very special to so many of the guys. To make it even more memorable, Sam got Jeff Rubies to cater and he had one of his favorite bars set up a little bar. Because friends were invited as well, I was excited to see some of Sam's friends that I probably have not seen since college.

Once Joe put the car in park, he looked over at me with a sigh. Seeing him look at me in the corner of my eye, I looked over at him and we made eye contact. "Well here goes nothing, I guess. Let's hope this goes well." I said with a little defeated laugh, the both of us knowing how the day has been going for me. "Let's be optimistic, what's the worst thing that could happen, right? There's no stairs...that I know of." Joe said, and started to rack his brain in an attempt to try and remember if there are stairs at this place. I tried to remember with him, because if there were stairs, I was certainly doomed. "There aren't any stairs where the party is at-well, that we'll have to walk up anyway- there's an elevator leading up the floor we're on." I said, remembering exactly where the stairs and elevator were at.

Joe laughed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Y'know, it's kind of pitiful that we even had to think about that." Joe laughed. I laughed and nodded. It was extremely pitiful. Who would need to think about if they would have to go up stairs? Definitely not many people. "It is, but with the day I've been having, It's better to be on the safe side." I said. We chuckled a little bit together before Joe turned the car off. "Sha'll we?" Joe asked. "We sha'll." I giggled and opened up the door quickly. I stepped out of the car and then met Joe in front of the car. Because of my situation at home-having to redo my makeup-we were about 30 minutes late. Luckily Sam said not to worry because he has the place until midnight, then we're kicked out.

Joe and I walked inside together and got into the elevator. On the way up, we made funny faces in the mirror on one side of the elevator and then took a funny picture that I had to promise wouldn't be posted, which I have to do with every picture I take of him. By now, he should know I won't post them. For one, I know how private he is, and I am too, and for two, I would never share these moments with anyone, other than close friends who probably have the same kinds of pictures of him in their phones.

The elevator opened up with a little ding and revealed a huge and bustling room. People were scattered around across the whole room and there were orange, black, white, and striped decorations throughout the whole room. Immediately after hearing the elevator open up, the majority of Joe's teammates looked over to see who arrived, and when they saw Joe, they all began to hoop and holler and call out his name, excited to see him. With a smile, I let go of his hand and went to go find some of the wags, mainly Gracie and Tianna since both Holly and Morgan were out of town with their husbands.

It didn't take long for me to spot Tianna who was messing with Cody who had a far from amused look on his face. When Tianna spotted me, she immediately stopped annoying Cody and ran over to me excitedly. "Finally! It's been boring without you!" She yelled and hugged me. "Girl it's only been 30 minutes." I laughed. "Uhm...exactly." She said and emphasized it with her hands. I shook my head and laughed at her, continuing to look around at the little buffet Jeff Rubies set up and then the little bar in the far right corner. "So, what did I miss? Anything fun or crazy happen?" I asked, needing to be caught up on any of the tea that I missed while I was gone.

Tianna gave me a look and signaled for me to come and sit down at their table, so I followed. "It's not really with the team, but apparently one of Sam's friends just got cheated on. He's here and a bunch of people were talking about it when they first got here." She said. My mouth dropped open in interest and I looked round to make sure I didn't see Sam anywhere. "Who? Maybe I know him from college." I said. Tianna raised an eyebrow and looked at me with a small smile. Why was she looking at me like that? I raised my eyebrow back at her in confusion, needing her to tell me so I wasn't confused. "Did you sleep with some of Sam's friends or something?" She whispered with a little wink. "Women-shut the fuck up, she ain't like some of your friends." Cody said.

The three of us started to laugh at what Cody said, but she continued to look at me, still thinking I might've slept with some of them. "What-no, I have been with Joe since 12th grade and we didn't cheat. Now, show me." I said. "Okay okay." Tianna said quickly and began to scan the crowd to try and find whoever it was she was looking for. I looked with her and tried to see if I recognized some of the people, but I wasn't having any luck. So far, none of the people looked familiar except for the players and their wives or girlfriends. "Ooh- there." Tianna said excitedly and pointed at someone somewhat discretely so they didn't see. I followed her hand and spotted one of Sam's friends. I knew exactly who that was, and I wasn't too happy that he was here.

"I know him, that's Aiden." I said and took my eyes off of him. "Why do you say that in a bad way?" She asked me. Why was there a hint of attitude in my voice? Well, because Aiden and I were kind of friends back in college. This particular friend group of Sam's consisted of me, Joe, Sam, Jessica, todd, and Aiden. We were all good friends and always either studied together, went to football games together, or went out to parties together. From the very beginning, Aiden knew Joe and I were together and in a very closed, strong, and long-lasting relationship. But he just couldn't help himself from crushing on me. The crush got so big that he eventually confessed his feelings for me while drunk and tried to get me to cheat on Joe with him. To say he was persistent was an understatement and it happened more than once.

Of course I told Joe who told Sam. After that, Aiden didn't really hang out with us too much. "Let's just say he had a crush on me and wanted me to cheat on Joe with him." I said. Tianna let out a small gasp as she processed what I said and then looked at Aiden with a little scowl. "Well in that case, the jackass deserved it." She said with a little 'hmph'. I grabbed onto the drink I snagged from someone passing them out and held it up. "Now that's something I will fucking cheers to." I said with a little laugh. "Hell yes." Tianna picked up her glass and to her surprise, Cody picked up his as well. Tianna looked over at Cody, surprised that he was into this conversation since it was a girls conversation. "Really babe?" She asked. "Uhm...hell yes." Cody said. We all laughed a little at his reaction and then clinked our glasses together. After we clinked our glasses together, we each took a sip of our drinks.

We've been here for about an hour just hanging out with people and catching up, even though every single person that I'm good friends with on the team I've been texting. After Tianna, I made my way around to some other people before finally sitting down at a table with Ja'marr, Tee, and Sam. Joe was sitting down with us too until he left to go get him and I drinks at the bar.

"So, Mrs. burrow….” Ja'marr said and leaned back in his chair. I raised my almost empty glass to my lips and said a small, "Mr. Chase?", before taking a sip, trying to figure out what he was going to ask me. "What are the chances that baby Burrow makes an appearance this year?" Ja'marr asked me. I set my drink down and shook my head at him with a little laugh. From around the small table, Tee and Sam just listened to our conversation, who obviously were both aware of what Ja'marr was going to ask me before he said it. "Slim to none." I gave him a short and sweet answer, although I knew he would pry and want more from me. "And why is that? I mean come on, everyone else is doing it." Ja'marr said. "Unless I accidentally miss a birth control, which I never do, or by some miracle I just so happen to get pregnant, it's not gonna happen this year. Plus, I’m not everyone else." I said.

This has been an ongoing conversation between Ja'marr, Joe, and me for a while now. Ja'marr is fully convinced that it's time for Joe to knock me up, even though we disagree completely. "Come on, why? You've been married long enough." Ja'marr added in. "Some people have plans jackass." Sam added in. I looked over at Sam and pointed at him. Ding Ding Ding. "Exactly, thank you. We have had a plan for a long time, and a baby, while it's included in that plan, isn't listen for a long time." I said. Ja'marr just glared at me jokingly for a few seconds. Don't get me wrong, I wanted a baby and I would want one right now if not for football. Joe and I are at the perfect age to have children, but Joe is currently in his prime years of his career. It would be completely unfair to ask him to juggle being a new father and being an amazing quarterback all at once.

It felt like Ja'marr and I were having a staring contest. Both of us tried not to laugh or blink, until Tee interrupted. "I mean this with no disrespect, but If you don't want to get knocked up by Joe, I think that bartender over there will gladly volunteer." Tee said and signaled over to the bar. I turned my head in the direction he was signaling to. It only took me a few seconds to spot Joe who was standing at the bar. The bartender was mere inches away from a very uncomfortable looking Joe who kept trying to back away, but in a way that wasn't too noticeable. That boy was way too respectful. They were in mid conversation, and every time Joe would say something, she would laugh-a little too much- at whatever he was saying. I know Joe Burrow, and never have I once laughed that much during a simple conversation with him.

Now, unless he was making endless jokes, which I knew he wasn't because of his body language, that girl was just doing way too much. I glared at the two of them as they talked, a little annoyance and maybe anger building inside of me. I wasn't mad at Joe who was obviously trying to get away from her as she kept bombarding him. I was secure enough in my relationship with Joe, even though it took a while to get to that point. I was, however, mad at the girl who kept touching his arm and giving him flirtatious looks and laughs a little too often. Those flirty eyes were the same exact ones that I give Joe. I was mad at the girl's occasional glances at his wedding ring on his left hand that told me everything I needed to know: She was well aware that the quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals was married, but she didn't care one bit. Plus, she obviously couldn't tell when someone was uncomfortable or not feeling a conversation. She was obviously not a girl's girl. What a bitch.

As I continued to stare at the two of them and read Joes extremely uncomfortable body language, Joe glanced over at me. We made eye contact and immediately after, Joe's eyes widened and he sucked in his lips a little. I smiled a little bit at his plea for help and how much he was practically begging for me to go over and help him. I looked over at the guys sitting at the table who were just watching me and then Joe, interested in what was going on. "You know, girls are bitches. Excuse me, while I go save my husband." I said and scooted my chair back. "You need our help with the clean up job?" Jamar asked. "You can keep her body in my car." Sam added in. I rolled my eyes jokingly and stood up with a laugh. I headed over to save Joe from this awful conversation he was having.

While I walked over to Joe, he glanced over at the table again, but when he saw me, his face immediately lit up and he smiled slightly. The girl, seeing Joe's facial expression from his side profile, looked over to see what he was looking at. As soon as she saw me walking over, I could tell she had absolutely no idea who I was or that I was even married to joe. In her eyes, I was just another person that had a crush on Joe, like her. That still didn't change the fact that she could still flirt and give my husband the 'fuck me eyes', all while knowing he was married. Now I'm not usually one to come out and say that a girl's being a bitch, because I get it, we all have our own problems that we're dealing with, but I mean come on, to flirt with an obvious married man? Now thats low.

I looked down at Joes hands and saw the two drinks in his hand. One of the drinks was a whiskey and the other was a vodka spritzer. Perfect. Once I got to Joe, He looked down at me with his best 'thank you' eyes and handed me the drink. I grabbed the vodka spritzer in one hand, and with the other, I wrapped it around Joes waist and kissed his shoulder. "Thanks babe." I said, the both of us knowing damn well that I never call him babe-But maybe I should, because Joe's cheeks flushed red when I said it- and I knew Joe wasn't a fan of PDA but figured it was needed given the situation he was in. He never has been and he probably never will be. The only time he's fine with it is with close friends or family, so certainly not here with prying eyes. "Of course." Joe said, going along with what I was doing. After I kissed Joes shoulder and smiled up at him, I looked over towards the girl who realized who I was. Did you seriously think his wife wasn't here and watching you? Unreal.

Going along with the part, I held out my hand a little bit out of politeness and acted sorry that I interrupted their conversation. "Oh my-I am so sorry that I interrupted,” I said and then introduced myself, “and you are?" I asked, Looking down at her name tag. I read the name, 'Caitlyn'. Caitlyn knew exactly what I was doing and I could tell by her facial expression that she wasn't enjoying it one bit. "I'm Caitlyn, it's nice to meet you. We were just finishing up our conversation, you weren't interrupting." She said. I flashed a small smile her way and nodded. "Well good, I would've felt terrible. It was nice meeting you, but we should really go find Ja'marr." I said and looked up at Joe, tapping his back a little bit. Joe straightened up and nodded, "yeah-right, it was nice talking to you." Joe said.

We both started to walk away, though I could tell she was staring at us as we left. The audacity of some people is wild. "You are a literal saint, I love you so much. That was horrendous." Joe said as we walked to our table. I began to laugh as we reached our table. "Y'know, fuck her. She knew you were married and still flirted with you, why didn't you leave you pussy?” I joked with him. "I tried, but she kept talking and flirting with me to the point where I felt like I would be rude leaving her and then a news article would come out titled, 'Joe Burrow turned down talking with a fan, what a loser.'" Joe said with a laugh. The both of us laughed as we reached our table. “She can stay jealous.” I laughed. The three of them just looked at Joe and I before Tee spoke up, "wow, she’s like your knight in shining armor brother.”

"Shut up, he was just trying to be polite, some girls just Don't know how to keep their hands off of handsome men that aren't theirs." I said with a 'hmph' and a laugh after sitting down in my chair. Joe followed after me and sat down right next to me in his chair. I leaned in closer to Joe as he put one arm around my chair and sipped his drink. "There Ain't nothin' handsome about Joey B." Ja'marr said, messing with Joe like he always does. Speak for yourself. I looked over to the most handsome man here as he laughed and said, "At least I ain't as ugly as your ass." The whole table laughed as we listened to Ja'marr and Joe joke around back and forth about who the better looking one was.

Other than the incident with the bartender, the night was going pretty well. We were all talking, drinking, and having an amazing time. At one point, all of the D-linemen and O-linemen had a little game of who was the strongest, which was extremely entertaining to watch. The whole time they were competing, Joe was cracking up laughing, and not just the belly laugh. He threw his head back, his eyes were sealed shut, and he could barely breathe. It was like a breath of fresh air to see Joe having an amazing time after such a stressful and uncertain season; the injury.

Currently, I just got done in the bathroom and was walking back to the table we were sitting at. I barely got in 2 steps before I heard a voice I haven't heard in years call out my name. Everything in me told me to just keep walking and pretend like I didn't hear him, but out of politeness, I stopped and looked over at him. "Wow...I haven't seen you in forever. I was hoping I'd see you here." Aiden said. I gave him a small smile and walked over to him so we didn't have to speak too loudly. Hopefully he just wanted to say hi and let me go, or maybe even apologize for trying to get me to cheat on Joe, multiple times. Without me expecting it, he took a step closer, closing the distance between us, and wrapped his arms around me before I could even get in a word.

"Uhh...yeah, it had been a while." I laughed awkwardly as we separated. Aiden kept smiling down at me like he was looking at someone he is really good friends with but hasn't seen in a while. Don't get me wrong, we used to be friends and haven't seen each other in a while, but to want to talk to me and act like nothing went down just felt wrong and uncomfortable. "It's so good to see you, Mrs. Burrow." He said with a big smile. "It's good to see you too." I lied to him with a fake smile, unable to muster up a real one. Right after I said this, he took a step forwards, if that was even possible, making me uncomfortable and making this whole situation awkward, at least for me. I watched him as he smirked a little bit. You better not try something.

I took a step back for comfort and was about to excuse myself when he said, "you look beautiful, even more so than back in college." I furrowed my eyebrows a little bit, disgusted and appalled that even after what went down at college that he could still be face to face with me and try the same things as he did back then. One of his hands found my side and his fingers danced over my hip bone. "Joe wouldn't have any issue if we hung out for a bit, right?" He asked. Don't react, just let Joe handle it. The last thing I wanted to do was create a scene here and draw attention to myself and Aiden. I scoffed a little bit, not able to hide my disgust and disappointment any longer. "It's funny how even after I rejected you in college, you still have the balls to do it again. If I wouldn't cheat on Joe back then, what makes you think I'll do it now?" I asked him, but he still didn't take his hand off of my waist. "Oh come on, don't be like that." He said. I looked down at his hand and then tried to look past him in an attempt to see if Joe was at the table, but he was blocking my view.

All of a sudden, I saw Joe walking over to us, looking as pissed as ever. His fists and jaw were both clenched in anger. I breathed a sigh of relief that he was here so neither of us could cause a scene and draw attention to ourselves. "Get your fucking hand off of my wife." Joe said, putting one of his hands on the small of my back. I looked at Joe and gave him a little nod of assurance before looking at aiden whose eyes grew 10 times bigger once he realized Joe watched the entire thing, and his hand slid off of my waist. I watched as Aiden’s shoulders fell in submission and embarrassement, obviously thinking he was going to get away with flirting with me and putting his hand on me even after what happened in college.

"I-I-" Aiden began to say. "What? You Didn't think I'd see you flirt with my wife? Come on man, you're not that stupid." Joe said and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing so tightly that aiden winced a little bit. "I was just trying to catch up with her, that's all." He said. I backed up a little bit and stood next to Joes side. I glanced around us a little bit to see if anyone knew what was going on, but nobody even looked at us. Everyone was just caught up in their own conversations. Thank god. "How dumb do you think I am, Aiden?" Joe asked. Aiden swallowed hard and shook his head. "Look man, I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I'll leave.." He said. "You're damn right it won't. Now, you can stay if you want, I won't tell Sam because I know he likes you-Why, I honestly have no clue-but I don’t want to ruin that. But, if you do stay, I don't want to see you near her again. Better yet, I don't even want you to look at her," joe said, and waited for a response, and when it didn't come, he added in, "you got it?" Aiden, who was obviously embarrassed, nodded quickly and said, "Yes sir."

With that, Joe nodded, took a step back from him, and began to turn slightly. Following his lead, I walked by his side and then we walked back with each other to our table that was now empty. This day just kept getting better and better. First it was the cat poop, which I wasn't even too mad about, but then one thing led to another and both Joe and I had someone flirt with us...and the both of them knew we were married. As we walked, I shook my head and sighed a little bit, just wanting this whole day to be over. Once we found our table, the both of us just sat down. "I'm sorry, baby. I cannot believe that fucker had the balls to do that for the second time. I couldn't stand to see his hand on your body, especially when you were so uncomfortable with him in the first place." Joe said.

"Hey, listen to me, Aiden is a jackass, I love you, and I'm all yours. Y'know, I hope he looks at us so he can be jealous of what he'll never have." I said with a smile and shrugged my shoulders. Joe just looked down at me and smiled. It was weird telling Joe that I was his, but I liked it. Normally there are people all over throwing themselves at Joe or accusing him of cheating to try and destroy our relationship, so telling him that I was all his felt... exhilarating, in a way. I was all his. He was all mine. And nothing or nobody could change that. Ever. I couldn't help but notice the little smirk that was growing on Joes face in place of his smile and I knew he liked when I said that I was all his. "Mmm, say that again." Joe said hummed quietly. I giggled a little bit at his reaction and said, "I'm all yours. And by the way, that whole thing with Aiden was really hot. Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.”

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kiwisugarhighs · 1 year

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Self Care

Summary: You and Harry decide to have a chill day at home.

Warnings: fluff, some drinking, kissing, brief description of showering together, one bad word, gender neutral!reader

Word Count: 1472

A/N: This is the first bit of writing I've done in a while, so I'm sorry if it's trash. I was just feeling soft for Harry and had to write it down.

masterlist

Your head dangles off the edge of the bed while you make funny faces at the mirror ahead of you. Harry should be home any minute and your day off at home has been excruciatingly boring without him. You cleaned the bathroom, rearranged the flowers three times, and did both of your laundry completely. Your day was productive, but boring.

You’re in the middle of seeing how long you can hold your breath when the front door creaks open.

“Babe? I’m home!” Harry calls out.

“In the bedroom!” You shout back, too comfortable to move from your spot.

You hear Harry’s footsteps as he whistles a tune you haven’t heard before, maybe a new idea, before he appears in the reflection of the mirror.

“Darling when you said in the bedroom this isn’t what I expected.” He teases.

“Shut up.” You giggle, sitting up straight. “Hi baby.”

“Hello,” he whispers against your lips before kissing you. “you want to call in for dinner?”

You nod more eagerly than you intend. The idea of cooking exhausts you, but the idea of going out is worse. You’ve been in your comfy clothes all day and just the thought of getting dressed is making you want to curl up and hibernate.

“What do you want?”

“You call, H. I’m sure you’re starving.”

“‘S not what I asked.” He challenges. You give in, telling him your order before hopping in the shower.

You don’t notice Harry step into the shower behind you until you feel his arms at your waist and his chin at your shoulder.

“Hi.” He mumbles, reaching for the soap.

“Hi.” You say back, enjoying the warm water on your skin.

“Food will be here in 20 minutes.” Harry informs you, kissing your cheek.

You hum a response.

“How was your day at home?” You let out a deep sigh.

“Boring.” Harry snorts out a laugh. He’s not expecting that response from you. You’ve been practicing begging god for a day off your busy work schedule for weeks now, so he was sure you’d be having the time of your life alone.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just,” you take a deep breath and rinse the last bits of soap away. “I didn’t feel relaxed.”

Harry nods silently and turns of the water.

“I know just what you need.”

You raise an eyebrow while he gets out and passes you a towel.

“Get your mind out of the gutter!” He laughs. “No, I know exactly what to do. It’s my relaxation routine when I’m on the road. It might not work for you tonight, but maybe it will.”

You turn to look at Harry, the towel wrapped around his waist with his hair still dripping and smile.

“I’d love to try it. I know basically what it is, but we’ve never done it together before. It’s probably exactly what I need, baby.” He smiles softly and kisses you before he disappears to get changed.

By the time you’re dressed, Harry has dinner on the table and wine glasses ready for the two of you. He’s wearing your favorite shirt and his hair is still slightly damp from the shower.

“Hey baby.” You hug him from behind, kissing his back. “The table looks great.”

“Thank you. Now!” He claps his hands and turns to face you. “Sit down, relax. I’ll handle the rest.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Dinner is quick and quiet. You realize that you haven’t had much to eat all day and you’re starving. The wine is consumed slowly and you listen to Harry talk about the studio and Mitch and everything else he has going on. It’s a nice catch-up, something the two of you have been itching for. Harry’s playlist is background noise while the two of you wash the dishes in silence.

“Now that those are done,” Harry faces you and gives you a kiss. “let’s begin.” You pull his lips down to yours once more and follow him to the living room.

“Stay here and don’t move.” He orders. “Where do you keep the face masks, my love?”

You giggle and shout directions from your spot on the rug, not moving an inch. You hear a slight commotion before the “Found it!” and see him emerge from the corner.

“Sorry, sweetheart. The wine is hitting me now.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because,” Harry holds up nail polish. “I plan to do some painting and I can’t promise it will be pretty.”

He flops clumsily on the rug next to you, almost knocking you over.

“Shit, sorry.” He giggles passing you a face mask. “Get it open, I’m already falling asleep and I want to make sure you’re relaxed before I pass out.”

Your heart flutters at the sentiment.

“Harry, it’s already perfect, baby. Go to bed if you’re tired. You’ve had a long day, too.”

“Nonsense!” He says, smoothing his mask on. “I can’t sleep with this thing on, can I?”

Your face softens for a moment as you take him in. His hair clip is neatly placed at the top of his head, holding up his brown locks. Harry's removed his rings for the night and his hands are bare as they smooth down the mask against his cheeks. He smiles gently at you and looks expectantly at the mask in your lap. He wants to do this with you and you've never felt more loved.

Quickly, you open the mask and smooth the cold fabric against your face. You hiss slightly at the temperature and shoot Harry a look when he laughs at you.

"What's so funny?" You demand.

"That noise you just made." He pulls a pained face and hisses dramatically before laughing to himself again.

"I hate you so much." You roll your eyes.

"Do you?" He challenges.

"Mhmm." You hum, holding his free hand.

Harry quietly sets a timer for the masks and scrolls through the T.V. for something to watch. You both silently agree on your favorite cooking show, commenting on how tasty the recipe looks.

"I'll have to make that for you soon." Harry says, opening the nail polish.

"I want to do yours first!" You say, reaching for the polish.

"If you insist." He shrugs.

"Besides, the artist says he's too drunk to paint, remember?" You tease. Harry shoots you a look from under the mask.

In the middle of painting Harry's nails, his timer goes off. You remove your mask, gently rubbing in the extra moisture. Harry tries signaling to you with his eyes and you laugh, taking his mask off for him. You set it down and keep painting his nails when you hear him scoff.

"Well, rub it in, love." He demands.

"Hey, who's helping who relax here?" You quirk a brow.

"I forgot." He blushes. By now the wine has worn off.

You giggle and rub the moisture into his face and hold his cheeks between your hands. You squish them together and give him a sloppy kiss. It slowly turns into something more heated and as soon as you feel his hand on your spine, you pull away.

"Why?" He whines.

"You're going to ruin your polish, Harold."

"I don't care about my polish, Peach." He taunts back.

"Well, I do. And besides, you still need to paint mine."

"Okay but first," Harry leans in for one more kiss and smiles as he pulls away. "do you feel relaxed?"

You nod silently.

"Good." He smirks. "This is just the finishing touch."

You extend out your hands and watch as he gingerly takes them in his own. He carefully reaches for the brush, so as not to ruin his drying nails, and begins working on your nails. The two of you are matching a light shade of green. It's a soothing color, not too bright or dull, just right.

The look of concentration on Harry's face makes you smile. His brows are knitted together and he takes deep, purposeful breaths while he tries not to mess up his work. As he adds the finishing touches, he bites his lip and looks up towards you.

"All done!" He says proudly.

"Yay!" You respond, resting your head against his shoulder.

The two of you have another glass of wine and watch the cooking show in comfortable silence. Once both of your manicures have dried, Harry reaches for the remote and shuts off the T.V.

"Thank you." You whisper.

"Of course." He responds. "Are you ready for bed?" He asks, kissing your head.

"Mhm." You sigh.

"Do you need some help getting up?" He asks.

"Mhm." You respond again, hearing him breathe a laugh.

Harry stands up and extends his arms to you, helping you up. You rise to your feet and he slings his arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

"Let's go off to bed."

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles x gender neutral!reader #harry styles fic #fluff #imagine #fanfic #gender neutral reader #kiwisugarhighs

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lixisere777 · 6 months

Text

Drabble 02: Amidst the shadows and rain, there's Jungkook who becomes your sun instead

Wc: 2.7k

Mentions of: ocean water, crying, stress, knives and a bulgar (nothing happens), a bit suggestive, kissing and I think that's it?

Note: I've been working on this for months, it feels nice to finally get it done. I wanted to finish it especially now to comfort us after Jungkook left so aaah >.<. Hope you enjoy!

_________________________________________

The long, hectic week was finally catching up to you. You were exhausted, anxious, irritated and just in need of a warm cuddle session with your lovely boyfriend. One would think you felt relieved at this moment—now that this hectic week has come to an end—, but it felt like you were just destined for worse. Everything was going wrong, nothing went the way you planned it to. Now that it was finally over you expected to be greeted by the feeling of relief, but alas even on your way home, you were not left alone by the grip of misfortune clinging to you. It suddenly started raining and since the bus you wanted to take decided to be a no-show you had to walk home. Without a jacket. Great.

It wasn't raining that hard so you thought it didn't matter, but you arrived home in soaking wet clothes anyway after a car passing by caused a wave of dirty water to splash your way. You could cry. If you didn't turn out sick the next morning, it'd be a miracle.

A week full of stress had just ended, but you couldn't seem to get rid of every gnawing feeling that it left behind. You just want to take your mind off of things. When you entered the door to your shared apartment, you wanted nothing more than to be greeted by his beautiful face stretched out into that famous bunny smile you loved so much. But of course —since nothing was in your favor—you arrived to the deafening silence of Jungkook's absence.

You were planning on dumping your soaked body on top of him and ignoring all of your worries, but even that you can’t get.

With a heavy sigh you peeled off your clothes and put them in the laundry basket, jumping in the shower right after to try to wash away the weight on your shoulders.

—

You jumped awake at the loud clatter coming from the kitchen. Instead of reacting like a normal human being and hiding, you started yelling with your eyelids still stuck together—the drowsiness refusing to escape you. Grabbing the first thing you could find on the couch you fell asleep on, the huge rainbow-colored hello kitty plushie you were cuddling with, you tried forcing your eyes open. You yelled, "Who's there?” pointing the innocent plushie towards the source of the sound.

A fit of giggles replaced the sound of the echo your voice left behind, probably mocking your messy bed hair and unusual weapon. You frowned, a pout appearing on your face as you realized your lover was the one to awaken you so rudely from the magical dream you had just a few seconds ago.

“Do you expect a plushie to protect you from a burglar?”, he approached you after picking up the empty bowl he dropped.

“Well what do you expect me to do when the burglar is in the kitchen, where all the knives are, and my boyfriend isn’t there to protect me?”, the pout never left your face.

His tattooed hand went through your head to try and smooth down the mess your pillow had created. He didn’t mean to but he got so lost in the look in your eyes and the feeling of your hair against his hand, that he forgot to form a response. You didn’t mention it though, the fond smile on his face and his gentle touch on yours fill your heart with warmth in ways you could never have dreamed of before.

You did however miss the sound of his voice, too soon to your liking, so you spoke up anyway, just to hear him speak.

“When did you get home, anyway?” This time, your hand was the one to reach towards his body. Your fists bawling around his loose shirt, resisting the urge to hug him.

“Not too long ago, didn’t wanna wake you”, the sweet sound of his voice reached your ears again. The muscles on your face contract, trying to hide the involuntary smile that tried to betray your unsatisfied yearning for Jungkook's attention

You sigh, giving in and pulling his body close to yours. Your arms wrap tightly around his waist, your head rests on his chest and all negative feelings flood from your body. A sound of relief escaped you. You could cry. But this time it’s because your heart is so full of love, so full of love you were afraid it would burst and lose all the love you’ve stored in there just for him.

“Are you okay, baby?” His voice faltered with concern. Nonetheless he hugged you back as you felt his arms snake around your neck.

“Just a hectic day—”, your stream of words got interrupted by the single tear falling from your eye, you had to stop talking or you knew you’d burst out in tears. You wanted to tell him so badly, tell him; “who am I kidding, this whole week has been holding me by my throat and I still can’t seem to find a way to loosen its grip.” But you didn’t want to break down in tears in front of him. Not when he was probably having a more challenging week than you could ever handle. Truly, could you ever complain about your life knowing his everyday is way harder?

“Oh no, baby don’t cry.” You were a bit shocked, but how could you be? Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself. Is it scary that he can recognize the slightest change in your tone and behavior so easily? Maybe. But do you love him all the more for it? Definitely.

He started swaying you both to the side, knowing how you liked to be cradled. It was an unconscious habit of yours whenever you couldn’t sleep or felt uneasy. Over the years, he had also adopted your silly little habit and now he couldn't hold you without swaying you anymore.

“Hmm, you know what? Tomorrow I have a day off. What if we spend it at the beach?” He sighed, placing his head on top of yours, plans for the day filling his mind already. “We could bring a cloth and sit by the shore an—oh!” His excitement got the best of him as another string of ideas flooded his mind. “And we can bring some snacks and some stuff we could do. We can paint, play lego or play board games. I can think of so many things!”

You just giggled to yourself, the dried-up tears on your face long forgotten. “I’m all in. I just wanna see the sunset,” you croaked out a response.

“Anything for my baby,” he spoke, kissing your forehead when you finally removed your head from his now slightly damp shirt to look him in the eyes. But you weren’t planning on settling for a simple kiss on the head, so you pouted your lips, non-verbally asking for a proper kiss on the lips. And he complied—with the biggest lovesick smile on his face.

—

The smell of Jungkook's cooking skills flooded your nostrils and your mouth started to water. After the long day you just had, a warm meal is everything else you craved.

"What are you doing?," his voice was filled with amusement. Since you weren't much of a good cook yourself, you decided that your antics in the kitchen should be entertaining—or distracting—the chef at work. This time that amusement contained sitting so close to him he could barely reach for the spoon to mix the ingredients and your hair almost slipped into the pot he was so desperately trying to steer.

When you decided to sit by the kitchen counter with your laptop, you thought you could continue your schoolwork while being in the detoxing atmosphere that Jungkook provided. But the thought of studying vanished your mind as soon as his sleeves rolled up and his hair got tied into a manbun.

You tried so hard to stop your teeth from biting down on your bottom lip, but should you even be willing to hide the effect Jungkook has on you? Sure he teases you about it and sure you're a little stubborn, but how can you ignore such a sight.

“You want to hear a secret?”, you whispered in his ear as his hand reached for your hair, making sure it didn't dip into the food. Yet his heart was beating against his ribcage, what are you planning?

“I never thought watching you cook for me could get me so turned on,” and as if your comment wasn't wild enough to drive him crazy, you didn't miss the chance to graze your lips against his skin. Not enough to be a kiss, but also not enough to be a mere brush of innocent affection.

"Fuck–, baby—, you can't say things like that!,” he groaned, aggressively stirring the pot, making you giggle.

When you didn't say anything and nonchalantly returned to your schoolwork he decided to speak up again. “You're acting like you've never watched me cook before,” he says in a rather mocking way, but you laugh at that, enjoying the reactions you get out of him.

“Just because I don’t always show it, doesn’t mean I don't feel it,” you wink at him, shrugging your shoulders like you confessed the most normal thing on earth.

He couldn’t hold in his smile, his expression of amusement quickly turned into a smirk, remembering all the moments you were extra touchy in the kitchen. He took a mental note to always make you watch him cook from now on.

—

“Baby, did you pack the towels?,” Jungkook asked softly, trying to start up a conversation. The car ride to the beach was awfully quiet. Normally you were very talkative when you were going to the beach, too excited for all the things you would do. It was one of the things you loved most in the world of course, and Jungkook knew that, so he couldn’t help but worry about your silence.

The pounding in your head however made you unable to think straight. You took an aspirin this morning, hoping to redeem the aches in your body. The last thing you wanted was for Jungkook to notice and spend his day off taking care of you. So you kept it to yourself. You couldn't stay in and sit in your flu, or whatever it decided to be, you needed to get out of your head.

“Yeah, I put it in my bag,” you sighed as your head came in contact with the cold window of the passenger seat in his car, your shoulders sagging in relief. His hand squeezed your thigh in worry, he knew there was something wrong.

“Baby, we’re here,” he shook your sleeping body. The ride to the beach wasn't that long, but the never-ending headache made you close your eyes a little too long.

The sudden excitement that flew through your body at the thought of finally spending a carefree day at the beach got knocked out of you as soon as you looked out of the car window.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you almost yelled in annoyance towards the raindrops landing on your face as you got out of the car. You made sure to check the weather report every hour of the day ever since last night and it still managed to rain today. It made you more frustrated than you could imagine. You could cry.

“___, baby...,” he looked at you with pity. Carefully approaching you to avoid you getting even more upset.

Your teary eyed face faced his sympathetic one. The looks you were exchanging saying it all. You expected him to comfort you, hug you, offer to sit in the backseat instead and rest. But Jungkook always seems to surprise you, even when you know how spontaneous he is.

“What are you doing?!”, you shrieked as you felt the ground under your feet disappear. Jungkook carried you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and your eyes widened, feeling overly exposed with your ass up in the air.

Like he could sense your discomfort he twisted your body around to carry you bridal style. Your wide eyes gazed into his excited ones. You immediately shook your head when that mischievous glint in his eyes and that childlike smile on his face made you realize what he was planning to do.

Despite your panicked protests he threw caution to the wind and started running towards the beach with you screaming in his arms.

“Jeongguk, if you fucking drop me I will—!,” you yelled at him punching his chest, but he silenced you with a kiss.

“I won’t,” he reassured you, making you blush.

So you just let him. Let him run into the deserted beach, towards the water, with the biggest smile on your face because Jungkook always knew what to do to make you smile again. He always knew what to do to make you fall deeper in love with him.

You gasped loudly as Jungkook entered the water—fully clothed. He ran past the shore, his favorite boots getting wet, but he didn't care. He kept running however, so far that his entire lower body had entered the water. He knelt down, you being in his arms getting completely engulfed by the cold water. This way he avoided getting his own upper body wet. You panicked, swimming out of his grip to look at him with an angry expression. But your face didn't match your feelings, or so you thought, the broad smile on your face betraying you.

“Jeongguk! You said you wouldn’t drop me!,” you splashed a bunch of water his way making him duck down to avoid getting his hair wet.

“I didn’t drop you, I just dipped you in,” he shrugged, making you scoff. Another wave of water was thrown his way, this time he couldn’t dodge it in time, the water hitting him straight in the face.

“Oh now you're asking for it,” he strides towards you, his arms ready to engulf you and body slam you into the water but you’re too quick.

What was supposed to be a relaxing day at the beach ended up turning into a chaotic water fight. And even though you were sick, the cold water felt rather healing as well as spending time with Jungkook did. You must look like reckless children to onlookers, but you haven’t had this much fun in a while, so you decided to not care.

—

“You should've told me you weren't feeling well,” you smoothed the frown between his brows out with your thumb, smiling brightly. You were now in the backseat of his car, both of you covered with the towels you brought earlier to lay down on the sand. You were basically sitting on top of him, having persuaded him with the argument that you needed his body warmth to warm up quicker.

“Then I wouldn't have such a fun day… Besides I think I'm feeling better already,” he pouted at you, not believing your words for a second. After getting out of the water you couldn’t stop shivering and what he thought was only natural turned concerning when he found you coughing and sneezing as well.

He held your hands in his, looking into your eyes, feeling guilty for noticing how bad you were feeling earlier. Blaming him was never in your agenda though, he made you feel healthier than you actually were in his presence.

“You’re not falling asleep on me are you?” he looked down at your slumped figure leaning on him, your full body weight on top of his.

“Uhuh,” you responded, snuggling further into his embrace. He smiled, not minding it one bit if you decided to sleep for hours on end. He’d stay right there, in the back of his car, thinking about all the things he can do later today to make you feel better. Because that’s what Jungkook did best. Love you unconditionally and brighten up your days.

He planted one final kiss on the top of your head, telling you goodnight, unaware of your lingering wakefulness. You think you might love him a little too much, you could cry.

#jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook × reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeongguk #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook headcanons #jungkook x oc #bts jungkook #amidst!series #Spotify

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inkformyblood · 7 months

Text

chance encounter (CWFKB2023) #2

Modern AU. Bloodsoaked kiss fill @codywanfirstkissbingo

There’s a man covered in blood sitting at the edge of Cody’s bar.

He’s pretty enough that the blood doesn’t detract from it, somehow enhancing the bright flash of his eyes as he twists to stare at the door he’s just trudged in from. Cody follows his gaze, settling his elbow on the door to peer down at the trail of footprints that the man’s left in his wake — Cody could line up his footsteps with a ruler, each perfectly placed to try and minimise the damage , and he’s seen habitual drunks who’d run for a bar with less efficacy than this man has — and he catches the man’s eye as he straightens up.

“I’ll pay extra for the cleaning,” the man says. His mouth twists like he wants to say more and he’s found it tastes bitter, hitting his palate like a pick-axe. “But am I able to order?”

“You hurt?” Cody asks instead, gesturing to the man’s, well, everything. It’s impossible to distinguish his natural hair colour beneath the blood, and every blink on one side grows longer with the sticky slide over the previous finger-smudged space to try and clear it. His clothes haven’t fared much better, a simple button-up destined for a long soak in some peroxide if not an immediate sentencing to the bin and a tight pair of jeans that will make Cody’s brain light up in all the wrong places if he thinks about them too long, blood splatter and all.

The slow grin that dawns over the man’s face could only be described as wicked, enough to convince a priest to tear off his collar and renounce his crusade if only for a second glance, and Cody isn’t particularly adept at denying himself small pleasures anymore. Nearly dying would do that to a man. The stranger peels his hand off of the bar, his fingerprints embossed in the wood in deep red marks, and Cody’s starting to reach for a rag before what he’s seeing catches up to him. The man’s teeth are pointed, his tongue a flash of pink amongst deep red as he licks over the expanse of his palm, culminating the motion by removing the prosthetic fangs with a wet slick. He sets them next to the soak of his fingerprints. “All entirely fake. A prank I interrupted I believe or it may have been intended for me all along. But now I am soaked to the bone, already sticky and that is only going to get worse, and I’m in desperate need of a drink.”

“We’ve got a small bathroom round the back.” Cody’s mouth moves without his brain’s input, cogs that had already stuck on the intensity of the man’s gaze as he had licked over his palm — that hadn’t been a fascination Cody thought he had possessed but now he can think of nothing else — grinding to a further halt at the thought of the man undressed in the cramped confines of a shower, soap clinging to his shoulders, the soft plane of his belly, lower. “You could wash up there.”

”You won’t get in trouble?” The man asks softly, leaning closer to Cody like they’re in a confessional, his voice so gentle that Cody flushes from the dichotomy of it all. “No trade secrets I should stay away from, overbearing bosses, jealous exes?”

“Why would my exes be jealous?” Cody asks before he can stop himself, rocking back on his heels to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to force his headache with nothing more than the pressure and a fervent prayer.

The man chuckles, ducking his head to make an attempt at hiding his grin behind the back of his hand. The pale swipe over his palm is briefly visible and Cody’s stomach twists, his head swimming with how much he’s craving something he’s only just learned is possible.

“They’d be jealous because I’m getting to talk to you and they’re not.”

Cody grumbles something unintelligible at the man, refusing to look at him directly. He hadn’t had much of a religious lean in his childhood, the house packed too full for anything else to seep in through the cracks. But he had dutifully sat through the parade of speakers from every faith while he’d been at school and sang the hymns like he was supposed to but it hadn’t meant anything special, it just was; the same way got the second pick of the chairs around the tv and he always chose the low armchair that would tip over if he leant back too far, the same way he got third pick of the sweets whenever his family all piled into the car for a trip and sixth choice of where they got takeaway from on the rare nights they could order. It had always been there, braided into his swearing and the way he structured his breaks around the holidays just like he would for the school breaks. But he must have done something right, somewhere, somehow, because this man, blood-stained and smiling like there’s never been anything wrong with the world, is in his bar.

He holds out the rag, a clean one, uncurling it from his fingers as he does so. There’s an indented line cut into the hollow of his knuckles, thanks to his own actions, and the man murmurs out his thanks as he stands, taking the rag from Cody. He roughly scrubs it over his eyes, revealing patchy pale skin littered with freckles and glitter in equal measures. The glitter is red, clinging to the natural hollows of the man’s face, the furrow of his brow and the corners of his eyes.

“Bathroom’s just through the door marked ‘Staff Only’, take a left and it’s the second door on your right. Ignore the skeleton in the closet. His name is Lewis.”

“And your name, my most beloved bartender?”

“Cody.”

“Cody,” the man repeats, lingering over the scant few syllables like he’s savouring them, swirling wine round in a glass as if that would make it taste any better. Closer now, he smells sweet, the fake blood beginning to dry tacky and stick around his joints, a rusting puppet too stubborn to lie down and let the world spin to nothing around him. “That is a lovely name. I’m Obi-Wan.”

He holds out his hand — blank line on his palm, a gold ring on his thumb, and Cody was already halfway in love without Obi-Wan ever saying a word — and Cody takes it. Obi-Wan tugs Cody forward, the edge of the bar catching on the rough curve of his hip, and kisses his cheek, sweet and sticky and smelling of artifical strawberries. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Cody manages, smoke spiralling from his ears as his overworked brain kicks up another gear, dust torn free from pathways he hasn’t touched in years. “You can have that drink when you’re back out.”

“You’re a treasure, Cody, truly. What would I do without you?”

“You’d be sticky and thirsty in someone else’s bar.” Cody squeezes Obi-Wan’s hand before he lets him go. “Now, go. I’m not going anywhere.”

#codywan #cwfkb2023 #cwfkb #codywan first kiss bingo #codywan first kiss bingo 2023 #star wars #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #my writing #fanfic

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eos0anemone · 9 months

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Late-diagnosed autism - Vent

I think one of the hardest things of being a late-diagnosed autistic person and not having had good profesionals and the correct information, is the shift at how you see and manage life, and what you expect from it - especially as a woman.

I'm very harsh at myself, and I do feel sorrow and hopelesness from time to time because I'm still getting used to the fact that I can't live the same way I did 3 years before collapsing. I was an excellent student, almost graduated with honors. Nowadays, I'm in online college, stuck at home and with a lot of difficulties.

The transition from behaving and living like a neurotypical to being fair with your needs as an autistic girl is hard. It is accepting your reality as a disabled individual, after a lot of years trying so hard to ignore it.

I still struggle, but those are some of the changes I did/experienced:

-More sleep than before (used to rest 6.5-7 hours, now I need +8 hours and a lot more decompression time, doing less things during the day).

-Keeping my hair shorter for sensory issues and convenience.

-I struggle with hygiene a lot :( The days I can't bare myself to enter the shower, I wash my hair and clean my armpits in the bathroom faucet.

-Also struggle with shaving, stopped shaving a lot of body parts.

-I wear more comfortable clothing (no bra, T-shirts, long skirts, tracksuit pants, etc) than I did before, but still keeping my own personal style.

-Stopped using makeup, because it was genuinely uncomfortable.

-Having to give up on styles I like, cosplay, travelling and other activities I enjoy due to my disability.

-Can't go to the gym anymore. I lost all my muscle and lost almost 10 kg due to problems digesting food.

-Focusing on my classes and doing homework has become an almost impossible task. My boyfriend encourages me daily to do it at my pace, but it is so hard.

-I almost never leave the house, which I try to correct, but my surroundings are horrible.

-Lost contact with a lot of friends and colleagues I had at school, especially because I feel like an imposter due to my masking.

-I developed my critical thinking beyond the ties my neurotypical peers indirectly imposed me. I'm proud of this.

-Explosive meltdowns and lots of crying...

-Still learning how to interact with others without masking.

-I sometimes have problems with my self-esteem. Since I can't work almost any job nor I can live a 'normal life', sometimes I feel as if I had less value than others.

Considering I'm one of the lucky ones, with parents who can afford therapy, a very supportive mother, a wonderful partner and a good friend whom I can trust (even long distance) it is still a hellish process. I wish I would have started unmasking a long time before, because after collapsing, autism has gotten a lot worse for me.

This is the end of the post, I will return tomorrow with more things to say.

#eos #eos autism #autism #disability #disabled #vent post #struggle #meltdown #sensory issues #masking #unmasking #stimming #autistic women #autistic things #autistic problems #autistic adults #burnout

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worksby-d · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: ~700

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

Slowly opening your eyes, it takes you a moment to remember that you’re not in your own bed. Instead, you’re met with rays of sunshine peeking in through the curtains over Chris’ large bedroom windows and his snoozing dog by your feet at the end of the bed. You’re shocked he doesn’t hate you for once again being the reason he was kicked out of the room last night.

You’ve been here many times before, but you’ve never stayed the whole night. You have to admit the room looks different in the daylight.

Letting out a yawn, you muster up enough energy to roll onto your other side, but frown a little when Chris isn't laying next to you.

You groan knowing you should get up to find him. Without even checking the time, you can tell it's too early to be awake on a Saturday morning though.

Thankfully your question is answered for you when you hear the muffled sound of his faucet being turned on behind the closed bathroom door on the other side of the room.

You let your eyes fall shut again when he begins humming something softly – You're sure it's one of those classical songs he likes sending videos of himself playing on the piano to you.

Eventually willing yourself to climb out of bed, you tiptoe toward the closed door. You take advantage of it being cracked open, slowly and quietly opening it enough so you can lean against the frame of it.

He's too distracted singing to himself and gelling his hair to notice you right away. You're distracted too, eyes met with the sight of him in only a towel around his waist, fresh out of the shower. You could get used to this, you think to yourself.

But you snap yourself out of it, finally getting his attention. “This isn't gonna work.”

He jumps hearing your voice all of a sudden, clutching a hand to his chest as he looks your way.

“Jesus, warn a guy next time,” he chuckles. But you can point out the exact moment he finally registers what you just said – his gaze narrowing on you, brow furrowed. “Wait– What? Why–”

You have to repress a laugh as his panic unfolds, stepping closer to him to ease it a bit.

“You're a morning person,” you sigh, trying your best to keep a straight face. “We can't– I'm sorry…”

“Oh my God.” He breaks first, letting out a laugh of relief and you can't keep the act up anymore after that. “You scared me.”

He reaches out his hand for yours to pull you closer. His skin is still damp, wetting your clothes as you hug him.

“Good morning,” you murmur, leaning to give him a soft kiss.

“If you say so,” he scoffs, giving you one more kiss. “Gees.”

“I'm sorry for scaring you. Twice,” you laugh. “You know, you could have woke me up if it meant taking a shower together.”

“You looked too peaceful,” he shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he thinks back to a few hours ago. “I wouldn't have done that.”

“How long have you been up?”

He pretends to think about it, knowing you won't like the answer. “Since 7 maybe.”

“Chris,” you gasp, jokingly pulling away so you can walk toward the door. “It's worse than I thought. I can't–”

“Stop,” he laughs, gently grabbing for you again to draw you back. “I promise to never wake you up that early, okay?”

“Okay.” You offer him a nod, but you have one exception to give him. “Unless it's so I can shower with you, like I said.”

“Deal,” he smiles. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.”

“Well enough for you to sleep over again sometime?”

“Of course,” you laugh. “I had a really nice night.”

Another wave of relief washes over him. “Me too.”

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans imagine #chris evans x y/n #dest's flufftober

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 11 months

Text

A Man's Worth

Tup x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1: Death in the Shadows

gif by @kamino-coruscant

Summary: Your date-night with Tup is interrupted when your stalker finds you and won’t leave without you. Tup heroically comes to your defense, but is overpowered by the assailant and you are taken away. After your rescue, Tup struggles with his insecurities and self-worth as he tries to heal physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader

Characters: Tup, Echo, Fives, Fox, Rex, Kix, Jesse, Dogma, Hardcase

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, domestic fluff, minor suggestive themes, stalking, kidnapping, violence, blood, major injuries, whump, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, self-worth, masculinity, depression, PTSD

Word Count: 6.7k

Author's Note: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it decided it wanted to be more. Don’t ask me where the idea came from. It was the first thing that popped into my head when I read the bingo square. Writing this was painful, but chapters two and three are worse, so... As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta Read: By the lovely @commander-sunshine because sometimes I think my work is trash.

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Obsession

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

“I am so full,” you groan while exiting the restaurant. The fresh evening air hits your face and you take a deep breath to refresh yourself.

“Me too,” Tup agrees as he rubs his stomach. “I’m kind of glad the other place messed up our reservations, because this place was amazing.”

“Right?” you pop a mint into your mouth and offer one to Tup. “This is definitely going on the list of favorites.”

“Absolutely,” Tup agrees while taking the mint. He clasps his hand in yours and you stroll leisurely down the sidewalk together.

Date nights are your favorite nights. You and Tup always make it a point to set aside one night, while he’s on leave, dedicated solely to each other. It’s a time of bonding and learning about each other. Even though you’ve been together for two years now, you don’t want to get complacent and lose the spark that you had in the beginning. In order for the night to be considered a true date night, it must consist of three things: food, fun, and intimacy.

The food portion of the night has happily concluded at the new restaurant you just left. After your original reservation was mysteriously lost, you wandered down the streets looking for somewhere else to have dinner and this little hole in the wall with a crooked neon sign piqued both your interests. The inside had a lively atmosphere and good music. And although the menu was limited, the portions were huge and you barely finished your shared dessert.

The fun portion was completed before the food. You found out the hard way that food before fun only ended up making you both sick, so you switched them around. Tonight you swept the floor with Tup at mini-golf. He talked a good game, but his mini-swing lacked any sort of form. His golf balls landed in the water, in the dirt, over the fence, and in someone's drink cup. You really didn’t think someone could be that bad at mini-golf, but Tup is always surprising you.

Now, all that’s left is the intimacy portion. Intimacy can be anything as long as you do it together and are completely alone. Some nights you will bake cupcakes and make a mess with the frosting, or take a hot shower and wash each other’s hair, or cuddle up with a good holo-film and eat copious amounts of junk food, or just have sex. The day usually ends in sex, but it isn’t the point, or the main focus of date night, so it always falls to the bottom of the list of priorities.

The sun is setting beyond the horizon as you make your way home and you sigh in contentment as you lean your head against Tup’s shoulder. He glances down at you, smiles, raises your clasped hand to his lips, and kisses your knuckles. You smile warmly in return for his affection. Today’s date night is perfect and the weather could not be better. It’s not too hot, which is always a concern in the summer, with a light breeze that brushes gently by your exposed skin.

You continue walking down the street, clasped hands blithefully swaying in the air like a young couple in love, relishing in each other’s presence. You see a bench coming up in your path and instead of letting go of Tup’s hand and going around it, you climb up it to walk across. Tup doesn’t miss a beat and continues holding your hand from the ground while you stretch out your other arm to balance. Once across, you gracefully hop off the end and continue your journey.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Tup praises as he leans over and plants a kiss on your temple.

“Stop it,” you laugh and tap his arm in jest.

Tup flexes his bicep and twirls you around to rest against his chest. He crosses his arms over your stomach to trap you and you giggle. He leans his chin atop your shoulder and whispers in your ear. “Never.”

You close your eyes and place your hands on his forearms as he sways back and forth, slowly dancing on the sidewalk to non existent music. You let yourself melt into his body’s warmth, feeling his firm chest against your back and his strong arms holding you, securing you in a gentle embrace. You don’t care who’s watching and you don’t care what they think. When you're with Tup your inhibitions and insecurities dissipate like clouds on a sunny day.

You open your eyes and continue to sway when you catch a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of your eye. Your body stiffens and a shiver runs up your spine. You study the figure and your stomach drops as your heart rate increases. It’s him. You can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You try to look away from his menacing presence as he observes you from the shadows, but you can’t. Your blood runs cold as fear washes over you.

Tup feels your muscles tense against his own as you stop swaying with him. The sudden change in your demeanor demands his attention. He notices goosebumps forming on your arms and wonders if you’re getting cold. He mentally kicks himself for not bringing a sweatshirt with him in case you needed it, however, something about your shivering feels off. The evening air is warm, not cool, as demonstrated by the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

“Cyare?” Tup asks in concern while cocking his head to the side.

You don’t answer, too afraid to form coherent words. It’s as if someone glued your mouth shut.

“Cyare?” Tup asks again, this time gently turning you around to face him. The look in your eyes tugs at his heartstrings. He can finally see what he was feeling emanating from your body, pure fear.

You startle at the movement and look into Tup’s deep amber eyes, searching desperately for safety and comfort. Tup stares back, silently asking what you need from him, waiting for you to speak. You finally mutter the words. “I want to go home.” The syllables are soft spoken, almost broken, as if one more utterance would break an invisible dam, releasing a cascade of emotions.

Tup doesn’t understand what is happening, but he does understand you, and if you say it’s time to go home, then it’s time to go home. For him, no more words need to be spoken. Whether you want to talk about it when you get home or not is up to you, but that’s not his main concern at the moment. His only concern is your safety and your wellbeing. He nods at your request, giving you assurance, clasps your hand in his, and begins walking towards home.

Tup takes ten steps and you abruptly stop. He doesn’t notice at first and continues walking, but stops when he feels the resistance as your hand strays from his. He turns on his heels and furrows his brow with concern. He doesn’t understand what is causing this sudden trepidation, but he’s growing worried. Is it him? Did he do something to cause this? The thoughts nag at the back of his mind, but he shoves them away in search of something more definite from you.

“Can we take the long way home?” you ask nervously, your gaze fixated on the shadowy figure Tup was inadvertently walking towards.

Tup’s confusion continues. The long way is ten blocks from your position. The short way is only two blocks. Tup scratches his head and searches your features. He watches you pick at your fingers, biting your lip, your legs trembling, and the way your chest heaves as if you’re being deprived of oxygen. He scans past you, desperately wondering what or who is scaring you so fiercely that you want to walk an extra eight blocks home, but nothing catches his eye.

Tup is snapped out of his focused gaze by you tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Please?” you plead with shaky breath, tears threatening to escape your eyes.

Tup’s heart shatters. He’s never seen you like this before. “Yes, of course,” Tup rushes to say when he realizes he’s taking too long to respond to your original question. “We can stop by that ice cream stand in the park on the way. Sounds good?”

He gives you a small smile, hoping for your bright and cheery disposition to return at the prospect of your favorite summer treat, ice cream, but you don’t smile back and answer only with a slight nod. Tup frowns, his efforts to lighten the mood fail, but he takes your hand in his and grips it tightly to reassure you of his presence. If anything, he wants you to know he’s there for you, even if you never tell him what’s wrong, he’ll always be there.

You both walk in silence as you wind the long way around to your apartment. Tup continues to scan the surroundings, still searching for the source of your sudden fear, but he can’t locate it. The thought of him being oblivious to such an enormous fear of yours makes him feel insecure about how attentive he is. Maybe he missed it in a conversation or maybe you said it in passing and he forgot. He racks his brain trying to figure it out, but the dots won’t connect.

A cold shiver runs up Tup’s spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, stopping him dead in his tracks. This feeling. He knows this feeling, intimately. He first felt it on Umbara as a shiny and he never forgot it. The feeling of cold eyes watching him from the shadows, waiting to strike him down. Is this what you saw? Is the source of these threatening eyes what is terrorizing his love? His breath quickens and he turns around, putting himself between you and the menacing gaze.

Tup steels himself, his eyes scanning for the source. He knows it’s out there, waiting, coiled, and ready to strike at him with venomous fangs. Then he sees it, the figure in the shadows that’s been watching and following. How long it’s been following you both, he’s not sure, but he’s going to end it here and now. He lets his training kick in and prepares himself physically and mentally. He’s faced many enemies and he’s not going to back down from whatever this one is.

The figure, realizing it’s been noticed, steps out of the shadows. Tup’s eyes grow wide as he looks at the towering figure and he takes a cautionary step back. The man is massive, at least three times his size and built like a gunship. Tup’s heart rate increases as he feels naked and exposed without his armor and his blaster. He understands now, your fear, because that same fear is biting at the back of his spine, threatening to alter his fight response into a flight response.

The large man takes a step forward, and Tup takes two steps back, pushing you back along with him. This isn’t good. Tup scans his surroundings quickly but there’s nothing he can use as a makeshift weapon. If this encounter turns violent, it’s going to be a fist fight and it won’t be pretty. The man steps forward again, chuckling darkly as Tup takes another few steps back. Tup glances over his shoulder and grimaces as he notices you’re both being backed into an alley.

“You thought you could run away from me again, did ya?” the man sneers.

Tup is baffled by his words, but he feels you bury your face into his back and a few pieces begin to click in his mind. “Do you know this guy?” Tup throws over his shoulder as he continues to back you both into the alley.

Your legs tremble as you try to move in step with Tup. “He’s…” you attempt to force the words out. “He’s my stalker.”

Tup curses under his breath as he mentally calculates the different outcomes, none of them ending well. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Tup asks, trying to swing his voice to sound more inquisitive than condemning.

“I thought he couldn’t find me here,” you answer through a shaky voice. “He’s been obsessed with me for years. I have eight restraining orders on eight different planets.”

Tup curses under his breath again. “Do you have a restraining order for him on Coruscant?” Tup continues his inquiry, well aware that it’s a dumb question.

You nod your head and ball his t-shirt tightly in your fists. This is your worst nightmare. You’ve been moving from planet to planet for years attempting to shake him, but he always ends up finding you. There’s not a police force in the galaxy that has been able to catch him. He’s elusive and cunning, a stark contrast to his brutish appearance, and he’ll do anything to make you his. The sheer terror you feel in this moment is overwhelming and you want to vomit.

“What’s the matter baby?” the man asks. “Why aren’t you happy to see me?”

You flinch at the words. A muscle in Tup’s jaw tics as anger brims under the surface from your terrified reaction. He gives your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s not your baby,” Tup scoffs at the man’s false insinuation.

“Oh?” the man raises an eyebrow. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Tup states confidently while using every bit of conviction he has.

The man laughs loudly and points at Tup. “Him? You chose a clone over me? This subhuman blaster fodder is your boyfriend? Don’t make me laugh baby.”

Tup narrows his eyes as ire burns in his gut. The insults about his existence don’t bother him anymore. Not everyone has the same view about clones, but he’s still flesh and blood, like any other lifeform, and it doesn’t make him any less human if he shares the same DNA with a million other men. He has feelings, a personality, likes and dislikes, just like everyone else. No. What’s really bothering him is your tears soaking through the back of his shirt and it fuels his anger.

The man walks forward. “Come on baby, I’m taking you back home.”

“Over my dead body,” Tup snarls as he steps forward to meet the man’s movement. It no longer matters that he doesn’t have his armor or his blaster. This is carnal. This is something ingrained in him that just feels right. An overwhelming instinct to protect what’s his. No one is taking you away from him, not while he’s still alive and breathing.

The man straightens up to his full height, flexes his muscles, and cracks his neck. “I was hoping you would say that.”

His intimidation tactic is working as Tup feels an incredible wave of dread wash over him. He discreetly slips his hand in his pants pocket and activates the distress beacon on his comm link. Whether anyone will actually see it and come to his aid he doesn’t know, but it’s better than nothing. Tup takes a deep breath, gently pushes you aside, and stands his ground. He’s a clone trooper after all and he was bred to fight. This is what he’s good at, and he’s going to do it.

“Come on, clone,” the man taunts with a wave of his hand. “Show me what those little arms can do.”

“Sooran ni’jagyc,” Tup shoots back as a challenge.

Your jaw drops in shock. You’ve never heard something so vulgar come from Tup’s mouth, at least not when he’s with you. You imagine his vocabulary must be pretty colorful as a soldier, so it’s not surprising, but it sounds weird coming from his lips. You watch nervously as the two men square each other up, like predator and prey. You slink back to a reasonably safe distance into the alley to give Tup the room to maneuver without you getting in his way. The tension in the air thickens.

The man lunges forward and Tup quickly evades his first strike. The attacker is large and his movements are sluggish and unrefined, whereas Tup is smaller, quicker, and more precise with his movements. Tup remains weary, even with his slight advantage from years of training. They play a game of hit and miss for several minutes and you fidget with your fingers and tap your foot as you watch. Your stomach lurches at the brutal swings as you wait for one to find its mark.

Sweat begins to form on Tup’s brow as he dodges another swing. His stamina is still good and if he can keep outmaneuvering his opponent, he just might tire him out. The man is getting frustrated that he can’t land any hits and his movements become more erratic and desperate. Tup takes the opportunity to look for an opening, anywhere he can land a hit. He finally sees one and goes for it, but Tup’s fist is caught mid-flight, the man’s hand encapsulating his entirely.

“Gotcha,” the man says as he peers down at Tup with a devilish smirk.

Dread washes over Tup’s face at the realization that he’s been caught. He knows it’s over. He knows he can’t break free, not from the iron grip surrounding his hand. He once again feels small, naked, and afraid for not only his life, but also yours. A part of him recognizes he may not survive what comes next and he glances back over his shoulder to give you the best smile he can, knowing it may be the last one he gives you.

“Look away, mesh’la,” Tup orders as calmly as he can. He doesn’t want you to see what’s going to happen next.

You nod, but you don’t intend to look away. At your confirmation, Tup’s gaze snaps back to the man towering over him. He tries to yank his fist out of the man’s grasp, but it won’t budge. The man watches Tup’s feeble attempts at breaking free and laughs. He rotates his fist outward, slowly bending Tup’s arm, forcing the clone to his knees as he winces from the twisting force. Tup grabs the man’s arm with his free one to try and stop his movement, but it’s not enough.

Crack

You gasp at the sound of breaking bone and the agonizing scream that follows. You put your hand over your mouth as your stomach churns. You’ve never heard Tup make a sound like that. It’s an unnerving and frightening sound that reverberates in your mind and echoes through your eardrums as it bounces off the walls of the alley. You should have listened and looked away. The sight of his arm twisted and mangled into a position inhumanly possible is not one that will soon leave your mind.

“Tup!” you yell as tears roll down your face.

“I said, look away!” Tup cries through labored breath, pain radiating through his broken voice.

This time you listen, clamping your hands over your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You slide down the alley wall, slumping to the ground, and place your head against your knees. You don’t want to see it and you don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to witness this horrific display. It’s unfair that Tup has to suffer because of you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you wonder what you could have done differently to prevent this from happening, but nothing comes to mind.

Crack

You flinch at the fracturing of more bone and the excruciating shriek that follows. You press your hands firmly over your ears, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t drown out Tup’s tortured voice as he groans in pain. You want it to stop, all of it. You want him to stop. You want him to leave Tup alone and both of you go back to the way your night was before your stalker arrived. You flip through images of Tup in your mind and try to focus on his soothing voice and warm smile.

Crack

Your happy memories are shattered like Tup’s body while his anguished cries float across the air and find their way between your fingers and into your ears. You let out a frightened whimper at the noise, even though the sound of his suffering is your morbid reminder that he’s still alive. You want to open your eyes, but you're afraid. Then you hear a different sound, a gasping of breath. No. He’s going to kill him. You finally brave a peek at the scene and you gasp in horror at the sight.

Your stalker has his hand wrapped around Tup’s throat, holding him several feet off the ground as blood drips from his pant legs and puddles on the ground beneath him. Tup’s limbs are twisted in a way they shouldn’t, with pieces of bone sticking out through bloody skin and ripped clothing. The pain he must be feeling is indescribable. You watch helplessly as Tup wriggles his mangled body gasping for whatever breath he can while using his only good hand to pull at the hand choking him.

You slam your fist on the ground and sob. You’re desperate for someone to save him, anyone, but there’s no one. It’s just the three of you. The only person who can save Tup is you and you’re not even sure if you can. You think about how Tup selflessly threw himself at his adversary to protect you and you want to do the same. You want to protect him, save him, because it’s better for Tup to be alive without you, than to live knowing his death was your fault.

You pick yourself up off the ground and stand on shaky legs like a newborn bantha. With one step at a time, you approach the man holding your mutilated boyfriend, stopping as you reach his side. You look up at Tup, his face is almost unrecognizable and his hair has left the confines of its tie with locks of curls pasted to his face with blood. Your heart breaks. “Please,” you beg with a shaky breath. “Please, let him go.”

The man moves his gaze from the bloody toy in his grasp and peers down at you. “Why should I?” he asks with a huff.

You take a sharp inhale and steel yourself. “If you let him go, I’ll go home with you,” you breathe out, completely surprising yourself with your resolve.

The man raises a curious eyebrow at your proposition.

“N… o…” Tup croaks out from beneath the man's chokehold, his eyes trying to meet yours, but all he sees is a film of red.

Annoyed by the talking piece of meat in his grip, the man takes his other hand and slams it against Tup’s jaw, knocking it out of place with a single deft movement. Blood flings from Tup’s face and splatters across yours as he lets out a stifled groan. His head rolls back as he fades in and out of consciousness. You gasp in horror at the violent act and you raise a trembling hand to your face to wipe Tup's blood off, taking a moment to stare at the crimson stain on your fingers.

“There,” the man smiles satisfactorily. “Now we won’t be interrupted.”

New waves of terror wash over you as shock threatens to take over your system, but you continue to stand your ground, determined to save Tup. “Please,” you ask again with as much sincerity as you can muster. “Please let him go and I’ll go home with you.”

The man contemplates your offer and finally drops his toy. Tup gasps, with what little ability he has left, as he hits the ground hard. You sigh in relief, but it quickly turns to more horror as you watch the man kick Tup in the stomach and hurl him against the wall of the alley. At this point, Tup can’t make any more noises. He just lies against the wall, limp, bleeding, and broken. You look up at the man and beg him to leave Tup alone. You beg and beg and beg, crying for him to stop.

The man walks over to Tup’s mutilated, bloody body and picks him up by the neck again, his twisted arms and legs dangling lifelessly. The man looks at you and smirks. “Do you know where clones belong?”

You whimper, stifling back a sob, and shake your head.

“In the trash,” the man laughs as he tosses Tup’s body in the closest dumpster.

You tremble at the echoing thud Tup’s body makes when it lands in the dumpster. You wonder if he’s dead. He must be dead. No one can survive that level of physical abuse. You fall to your knees and sob. You sob for your lost love and you sob because it’s all your fault. You brought your past into Tup’s present and now he’s paid for it with his life. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the life you wanted and now you’re mourning the life you had. The life you loved.

The man grabs your arm and yanks you up from the ground. There’s nothing more you can do now. You don’t have a choice. All hope has been lost. You have found yourself at the end of a very terrifying road with no one to protect you and no one to save you. You swallow hard and accept your fate, a fate that Tup died in vain to prevent. You reluctantly go with the man who murdered your love, turning back to look into the alley one last time to mouth a silent I'm sorry.

“You’re overreacting,” Fives criticizes while putting his hands behind his head. “He probably hit it by accident.”

“That doesn’t sound like Tup,” Echo argues as he concentrates on the beacon. “He could be in danger.”

“It’s date night,” Fives reminds Echo with a cheeky grin. “The only danger he’s in is getting blue balls.”

“Real mature, Fives,” Echo rolls his eyes without looking up from the data-pad.

“Listen,” Fives starts, “I was having a great night until you dragged me out here, in full kit no less, to track down Tup and his girlfriend.”

“Yes, I’m sure your hand is missing you very much,” Echo jokes with a small smirk.

Fives flicks an unamused look towards his brother and scrunches his nose to mock him. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“Just shut up and focus,” Echo says with annoyance.

Fives crosses his arms against his chest in protest and continues walking beside Echo in silence. They follow Tup’s distress signal, winding their way past shops and restaurants illuminated by fluorescent neon signs. The vivid colors and bright lights dance across their armor against the dark backdrop of the night. They stop momentarily when the beacon alerts them to the location of Tup’s comm link being only a little distance up ahead.

Trading concerned looks between each other, they warily continue forward. Echo watches the beacon closely, the beeping pattern matching his anxious heartbeat. There’s no reason for Tup to be here in an empty street like this. They walk past an alley and the beeping from the beacon slows. Echo puts a hand across Five’s chest to halt him, then takes a few steps back. The beacon beeps faster as he approaches the entrance of the dark alley.

Odd is the only word the two Arc Trooper’s can come up with as they share a nervous look. They step into the damp alley, flicking on their helmet lights to see into the darkness, but nothing catches their gaze. There’s nothing in the alley other than garbage, dumpsters, and mysterious liquids littering the ground. They continue to look around, the beacon guiding them to the distress signal. The beeping is loudest by the dumpster and they move towards it to investigate.

“I knew it,” Fives sighs as he puts his hands on his hips. “He lost it and it ended up in the trash. I told you it was nothing to worry about.”

Echo grumbles at Fives’ words, crosses his arms in annoyance, and leans against the opposite wall.

“He owes me for this,” Fives says as he walks toward the open part of the dumpster. He grips the metal side with both hands and hoists himself up to peer inside. He prepares himself for the stench, but nothing could have prepared him for the horrific sight. A beaten and bloody clone. His breath hitches and his stomach jumps into his throat. He swings his legs over the side of the dumpster and jumps in.

He kneels next to the clone. Their body is so mangled and twisted, he can’t tell who it is. He brushes the hair out of their battered face and his heart sinks. A blood stained teardrop under their right eye. No. It can’t be. This can’t be Tup. Fives’ heart races. He puts two fingers to the side of his brother’s neck, checking for a pulse, repeating ‘please don’t be dead’ to himself over and over again, a silent wish. Then he feels it, a faint rhythm pushing back.

“Hang on vod’ika,” Fives whispers as he gently brushes more strands of the blood-caked hair away from his face. “Hang on for me.” He debates whether he should move Tup himself, but with the amount of bodily damage, there’s no good way to pick him up without injuring him further. Fives curses to himself. “Call the corries,” He orders through comms. His voice is steady, but conceals a bitterness.

Echo is startled out of his roaming thoughts and pushes himself off the alley wall he was leaning against, “What did you find?”

“I said call the corries!” Fives yells, his voice now demanding as anger and worry seeps through. “And get a medic!”

Echo is taken aback by Fives’ aggressive tone and jogs over to the dumpster to see what he found. If they need the Corrie Guard and a medic, it can’t be good. He jumps up the side of the dumpster and leans over to see Fives kneeling next to a bloody body, a clone trooper’s body. Echo’s face contorts beneath his helmet and he wants to gag, not just at the smell, but also at the morbid sight of bones sticking out of the beaten trooper’s lifeless body.

He stares for a moment longer when the realization washes over him like the raging waves of Kamino. The distress beacon, the alley, the dumpster, the bloody clone. It’s Tup. There’s no denying it, those lengthy curls, the tattoo under his eye. It’s him. Echo’s blood boils and he lets go of the side of the dumpster, landing back on the ground with a soft thud. He calls it in, his normally stoic voice steeped in fear and anger. Fear for his brother’s life and anger at the perpetrator.

After the call is made, Echo makes a second terrifying realization. He looks farther down the alley, scanning it for another life. A second cold wave washes over him. You’re not here. You’re not in the dumpster. You’re not in the alley. You’re nowhere to be found. The thought that you did this to Tup flashes across his mind, but dissipates just as quickly. There’s no way you could do this type of damage to a clone trooper. No, it must have been someone else.

The Coruscant Guard, led by Fox, finally arrive on scene. Flashes of red and blue illuminate the area and the alley is marked off with yellow crime scene tape. Late night bystanders stare in curiosity at the commotion, crowding the corrie guards as they try to keep the public out of the way. Echo gives Fox a rundown of the situation and mentions that you were out with Tup and are now missing. Fox records the information and places a reassuring hand on Echo’s shoulder.

“We’ll find who did this to your brother, and locate the missing girl,” Fox promises.

Echo worries his lip and takes his helmet off, tucking it neatly under his arm. “With all due respect, sir,” Echo begins, pausing for a moment to decide whether he’d like his next words to be a question or a statement, "we’d rather take this one.” He knows they have no jurisdiction on Coruscant and no business taking on local crime, but this is different. This is one of their own. This is their brother. He has to try. He has to find a way for them to be involved, to get revenge.

Fox pauses at the bold statement, his expression hidden behind his helmet. He studies the ARC trooper in front of him, a level of burning passion and rage alight behind his eyes. He can already tell there’s no stopping this clone, or his brothers. Even if he orders them to stay out of it, they’ll never obey, and that will just create more paperwork for him. Fox sighs, hoping he doesn’t regret his decision. He points to his men. “The boys will give you what you need.”

Echo nods his thanks and Fox nods back before returning to his men to explain the new situation. Echo grits his teeth and clenches his bicep around his bucket. He’s angry. No. He’s furious. His brother is lying in a pool of his own blood, straining for air, and walking a thin line between life and death. His only thoughts now are retribution. Whoever did this is going to pay in blood. He takes a deep breath to calm himself and walks back to the alley to check on Fives.

Extricating Tup from the dumpster is no small feat, not with the amount of damage done to his body. The corrie guard had to bring in special tools to take apart the side of the dumpster piece by piece. Fives stays inside the dumpster with Tup and shields him from the sparks as they cut the bolts loose. Once the side of the dumpster is removed, medics work delicately to lift Tup out of the garbage and onto a stretcher. Fives does his best to help, but the medics push him away.

Echo watches the medics work and approaches the hole in the dumpster once Tup is safely removed. He peers inside and sees Fives still kneeling in the garbage, his armor covered in blood. Covered in Tup’s blood. He watches as Fives picks up the flashing comm link that was hidden beneath Tup’s body. He grips it in his hand and chucks it past Echo while yelling in frustration. He pulls his bucket off his head, leaving blood stains behind from his soaked gloves.

“How did this happen?” Fives asks, his voice angry and quivering.

Echo drops his gaze and kicks the ground. He has the same question with the same nonexistent answer. He lifts his gaze back up to meet Fives and offers a hand to help him out of the dumpster. Fives takes a deep breath and grabs his brother’s hand to pull himself up. They both sigh and lean against the wall of the alley, neither knowing what to say. Their silence is broken when Fox comes back around to grab their statements and to let them know he contacted Rex.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the squad to show up. Some in their civvies, some in their armor, and some in gym clothes, but all with worried looks plastered onto their faces. Echo and Fives maneuver out of the alley to greet them, waving back to Fox in thanks for his help. Their brother’s eyes plead for answers, for explanations, for anything that will tell them what’s going on. They see the blood stains on Fives’ armor and murmurs erupt between the clones.

“Maker!” Captain Rex exclaims when he sees Fives. “What happened to you?”

Fives chews on his lip, unsure of what to say when he realizes Fox didn’t tell them what happened. “It’s...” he pauses, the thought forming into a painful crushing weight on his chest. “It’s not mine.”

“Then who’s is it?!” Rex questions vehemently while looking around and doing a mental headcount of his men, desperately trying to figure out which one of them is missing from the ranks.

Fives casts his gaze to the side, unwilling to meet his captain’s anxious and questioning eyes. He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to keep saying it. The amount of times he’s already had to recount what he’s seen is one too many. The words are like poison, slowly peeling away at the layers of his tongue, making it raw with emotion. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. It makes him sick. The words, the smell, and the image twists his gut in discomfort.

“It’s Tup’s,” Echo answers when he notices the distant look in Fives’ eyes. The words are like sharp needles pricking his lips as they exit, leaving a bitter and bloody aftertaste.

Shock sweeps over the group of clones like billowing smoke, stinging their eyes and stealing their breaths. Their respective nights had been interrupted by an emergency comm from Rex notifying them that one of their brother’s was the victim of a crime. Dinners had been left cold, warm beds had been abandoned, and activities had been ditched at a moment's notice. They thought they were prepared for whatever this crime was, but they were wrong, very wrong.

“Hey!” Kix hollers after scanning the area to locate Tup. “That’s my trooper!” He runs over to where the medics are attempting to stabilize Tup for transport and demands a debrief from the lead medic.

The two medics argue back and forth about Tup’s condition and who has jurisdiction. Kix gets in the lead medic’s face, pointing a finger at his chest, and yelling expletives. No one gets in Kix’s way or tries to stop him, because they all feel the same way, the same fear and anger. Fox overhears the heated discussion and intervenes between the two clones before a fight breaks out. He sees the same fire in Kix’s eyes as the ARC trooper and lets him take the lead of the medics on scene.

Fives watches the ordeal and rubs his hand across his chin, pulling at his bottom lip in exasperation, while absent-mindedly leaving a trail of blood across his chin and goatee. Echo notices the striking smear and cringes at his brother’s appearance. He steps in front of Fives and brings his hand up to his twin’s face to wipe it away. Fives leans his head back in resistance to the odd gesture, but the glint in Echo’s eyes convinces him to trust what he’s doing.

“You should change into something else,” Echo mentions as he works to wipe the blood off.

Fives looks down at his armor and a small alarm sets off in the back of his brain. He drops his bucket and looks at his hands, pressing his fingers together while watching the blood ooze from his soaked gloves. He was so wrapped up in helping Tup, he didn’t even notice just how much of his blood was on him, staining him with a constant reminder of his brother’s mutilated body. He rips his gloves off and starts yanking his armor off, stripping like a madman in the street.

He needs it off. All of it. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. He doesn’t want to remember the disgusting images in his head. He’s seen blood before, lots of blood, but not this blood. This blood is different. This isn’t the blood of the faceless enemy, this is the blood of his brother. He claws at his blacks, desperately trying to remove them from his body in a frenzy. Through his hysterical haze, he feels Echo place two firm hands on either of his shoulders and he stops.

Fives looks into Echo’s eyes as Echo breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. He copies Echo’s breathing, slowly bringing his panicked breath in sync with his brother’s calm breath. Once he settles in the new rhythm, Echo closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Fives’, silently reminding him that he’s not alone and that Tup is still alive and fighting. Fives closes his eyes and lets his mind go blank, mentally preparing himself for what comes next.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @kixs-husband @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @starrrgazingbunny

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bts-bay-bee · 2 years

Text

Slip ‘n Slide

Pairing: kim seokjin x fem. reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1085

Warnings: established relationship, shower sex, unprotected sex, “just the tip” but it’s never just the tip, Viagra is mentioned (but not actually used), allusions to using the detachable shower head for masturbation (not actually done), creampie,

A/N: this was supposed to be 500 words, but oh well

“One more round?”

“What’s gotten into you?” You laughed, pushing Seokjin away from your neck, where he had been trying to add to the collection of marks and tender bits of skin. “Did you accidentally take a Viagra?”

“That was one time, and it looked like the supplement I was supposed to take!”

“I’m sure,” You replied, dryly, trying to hide your eyes rolling. Pinching your side in retaliation, he quickly hovered over you, caging you in.

“You’re so mean to me today, like you weren’t just begging for my dick.” He sighed, angling his body so that his thigh was against your core. The tiny bit of contact made your skin burn with want, your body knowing that it was possible to have him again, but your mind knowing that you’d wake up even more sore than you were already going to. “Give me a kiss, then I’ll forgive you.”

“Run me a shower and maybe you can get a kiss.”

“I’m not sure you understand how this whole forgiveness thing works.” He scoffed, settling next to you on your bed, very obviously refusing to run you a shower. His resolve crumbled at a single whine from you, almost immediately sighing and sitting up to go to the ensuite bathroom.

After a few seconds, you heard the water running, accompanied by Seokjin’s not so quiet singing, and that’s how you knew it was time to go wash off.

Walking into the bathroom, the mirror was already foggy, the temperature of the water at the perfect temperature for you (something Seokjin always complained about). Speaking off him, he was already in the shower, back facing you while pushing his hair back. You were shameless when looking at him – silhouette too enticing and perfect to pass on staring at him through the glass shower door.

“I can feel you staring,” He complained, “Just get in here already and take your demon shower.”

“I don’t know, maybe I should just stand here and admire the view.” You teased, pushing off against the counter and walking into the shower. “Maybe I should’ve let you goad me into another round.”

“Well, that offer is no longer on the table.”

He was way too smug saying that, and you knew he was smirking even without seeing his face. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you pressed your skin to his, letting the water fall over both of you, all while nuzzling into his back.

“You’re saying no to me?” You mumbled, kissing the scratches you had left on his back earlier. They definitely weren’t as red as previous endeavours, but he probably wouldn’t let the other members see him shirtless for a while. “It’s fine, our showerhead is detachable.”

“Out of curiosity, do you use water this hot when you’re doing that?” He hissed, turning the temperature down after seeing how flushed his skin looked. “How haven’t you burnt your clit off?”

“You weren’t supposed to just agree to me using the shower head!” You sighed, imagining stomping your foot and then ending up in the emergency room. Maybe you shouldn’t think about throwing a tantrum whilst in the shower.

“I’d kind of, maybe, pay money to see that,” He teased, crowding you against a wall, his hands grabbing onto your slippery skin. And that’s how you knew you had won this argument. “I’d pay more to know how you haven’t burnt your clit, though.”

Okay, maybe you hadn’t won.

“Enough about the shower head,” You mumbled, trying to kiss him while he stubbornly dodged every attempt. “Fuck me, please?”

“You’re going to be even more sore, love.” He replied gently, all air of joking and kidding around suddenly gone. “I wasn’t very gentle earlier. I don’t want to make it worse. Let’s just wash up and we can go to bed, okay?”

He kissed your forehead, then made to move away, but you caught him just in time to properly kiss him.

“Just the tip, then?” You murmured, hands running down to his happy trail. “Promise I won’t ask for more.”

You knew his resolve was weak (it had been from the start), so you expected him to almost immediately give in, especially with the way he was quickly growing harder against your thigh.

“Just the tip?” He mumbled into your hairline as you very gently fisted his cock to full hardness. You nodded at his questioning tone, kissing his neck, leaving small marks over the already blotchy skin.

Running the tip through your folds, your breathing hitched when he knocked against your clit, leaving sticky strings of precum on your skin. Quickly gathering your wetness over his cockhead, he pushed into your core, staying true to his promise of just the tip.

“Jinnie,” You breathed, clutching at his shoulders already, eyes half closed. “Feels nice, full.”

“Just the tip makes you feel full?” He scoffed, pulling out and thrusting back in, probably going in deeper than what he expected. “Come on, baby, I know you like being stuffed, full to brim.”

With that, he thrusted all the way in making sure your walls were clenching around him, squeezing his length deliciously. He knew this was your plan all along, you would never settle for just the tip, he knew he was just feeding into your fantasy, but he couldn’t help himself.

You felt boneless as he fucked into you, his grip on you tight, despite both of you being slickened with water. Throwing your arms around his shoulders as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, you almost started crying from how good it felt.

“Like the tip could ever satisfy you,” He scoffed, grip tight enough to probably leave new bruises on your hips. Angling his thrusts differently, you didn’t recognise how high your own voice had gone, instantly coming in seconds, nonsensical babbles fuelling his hips to work faster, chasing his own release.

“Cum in me, please!” You gasped, eyes unable to focus or open properly. “Please, want it, Jinnie.”

Cursing through his high, hips stuttering and stomach dipping in further and further, he emptied himself in you, hot cum deep in you making you feel satisfied.

Momentarily satiated, he carefully dropped your legs down to the floor, the water doing nothing to help your wobbly legs help support you.

“I can’t believe I feel for that just the tip bullshit.” He said incredulously. “I mean, I knew we were going to fuck again before we fell asleep, but seriously –”

#kim seokjin smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #bts smut #smut #kim seokjin x reader smut #seokjin x reader smut #jin x reader smut #bts x reader smut

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itsfeckinwimdy · 1 year

Text

Dizziness - Soulmate Shorts 2

Pierre Gasly x Reader

Reader Pronouns: She/Her.

Letter: D = Dizziness (Soulmates start to feel dizzy when they’re apart for too long.)

Word Count: 456 words

Warnings: Mentions and discussions of nausea.

F1 Masterlist / Soulmate Shorts 2 Masterlist

Published: 18/03/2023

She felt as if she was going to throw up.

The world was spinning behind her eyelids, the darkness helping to subdue some of the sickness compared to watching the world swim around her. It was a never ending delirium composed of a turntable of colours, rotating endlessly without an end in sight.

The swirling darkness increased its tempo. The acid staining the back of her throat became more prominent as she tried slowing her breaths. The sweat lingering on her body from the race was practically revolting, her mind trying to focus on anything but the smell. She couldn’t shower until she got back to the hotel, so the bile, alongside the contents of her stomach, threatening its welcome was not wanted in any sense.

It was one thing to find your soulmate, that she was grateful for, but the constant dizziness and sickness that came with it after spending all but a few hours apart was the one thing she hated.

Her stomach clenched as she took another sip of water, her head lolling back against the wall as she pulled herself upright.

Okay, maybe she would trade Pierre if it meant no more sickness.

The door into her driver room opened and shut with a slam as a body collapsed ungracefully onto the floor next to her, a weight shifting itself onto her lap. It felt like she could finally breathe again, the swirling of her vision grinding to a halt.

She opened her eyes, the sight of Pierre’s mop of hair and head lying on her legs compared to his body strewn across the floor next to her was a sight to see. And one she missed of course.

Her fingers caressed Pierre's hair as a groan left his lips.

"Finally," he opened his eyes, his piercing grey-green ones staring directly into hers, "I don't feel like I'm going to empty my stomach over a reporter anymore."

She chuckled and shook her head at his words.

“Well, if you hadn’t spent so long with your interviews then we wouldn’t be in this situation now, would we?” She teased him back. The spinning had stopped. It was as if she could breathe freely again without worrying the contents of her stomach were to spew over an innocent passerby.

“You got me there,” Pierre smirked before hauling himself up off the ground, grabbing her hand to pull her up, “Come on ma chérie, let's get going. You can finally shower and wash the stench of sweat off yourself.”

“I don’t smell that bad,” she cried in mock offence, “If anything you smell worse.”

She pulled herself into his side, letting his arm drape across her shoulder, “Yep,” she fake coughed, “You definitely smell worse.”

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 soulmate au #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 soumlate au #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one soulmate au #pronouns: she/her #fic: drabble/imagine #fic: series #series: soulmate shorts #tree writes f1 fics

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ghostaholics · 1 year

Text

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆 (𝒉𝒄)

PAIRING: Captain John Price x fem!Reader WARNING(S): [ 18+ ]; unprotected p-in-v sex; shower sex, unintentional temperature play A/N: I see your snowed-in cabin fics and instead raise you to 45˚C/100F+ scenarios with the desperate need to stay cool; inspired by the excessive weather where I live. Honestly idk what this is. Just sweaty Price brain rot.

❝ Always makin’ fun of my boonie hat – not much of a laugh now, is it? ❞

And without saying anything else, he plucks it off his head with one smooth motion before setting it on your own, a rush of heat floods your face at the idea that he's just sacrificed his most treasured protective outwear at your expense.

❝ Looks good, might be better on you than me. ❞

Having to reapply another fresh layer of sunscreen along the thick muscle of his neck, your hands kneading into the sweat-slick skin at his nape – even though you've already wiped at his neck so that it's dry but the sweltering heart keeps generating more beads of perspiration (drip, drip) in the same way the thought of you touching him spawns a fresh gush between your legs, all sticky and messy.

And what makes it even worse is the soft grunts he lets out as your fingertips work on their own accord, finding a knot in between his shoulders and easing the point of tension there with purposeful movements as he relaxes under you, but you start to falter because he's making noises that you really don't want to think too much about before his voice, pitched low and hoarse, startles you out of your thoughts—

❝ Keep at it, love. ❞

Then you're finally done; you tell him so, and you feel some reluctance as you're pulling away because a stupid part of you wants to know what other sounds you can coax out of him. So you adjust the shemagh over his neck back in place and swallow the lump in your throat.

❝ Thank you, ❞ he murmurs, and it's in the same fucking tone he used earlier that turns your breathing shallow and useless.

❝ Anytime. ❞

Then he turns around, eyes smoldering, irises bleeding blue and says—

❝ Don't say that if you're not looking for me to take you up on that offer. ❞

Price fetches some ice cubes. You're not sure where he gets them; you only know that he turns up with a container out of nowhere.

He cups your jaw, angles your head up to expose the column of your throat, cool mouth pressed against your heated flesh, slighty salty with sweat. It's almost overstimulating, the coldness of his lips and the rough scrape of his facial hair against your sensitive skin.

When it melts, he laps up the remaining liquid, flattening his tongue, leaves little nips here and there as he trails over your neck.

The shower in the safehouse is complete and utter shite, not cold enough, lukewarm at best, but it's running water so he can't complain too much about all of its faults as long as it washes away the sticky feeling of being drenched everywhere along his body.

He's peeling off his gear fast, every layer, shucking it off on his way to the bathroom

And while you're still transfixed on his retreating figure, he notices that you don't follow him so he comes back, drags you into the bathroom without saying another word.

He sits you on the counter, starts with sliding your jacket off your shoulder, unlacing your boots, pulling off your top, and once you finally snap out of it, you're helping him speed up the process.

He could fuck you like this, on the counter, or over it with the mirror in front of you. But he doesn't. Maybe later.

Another reason this shower's fucking terrible: it's a small space that can really only accommodate one person, but he'll make it work, god damn it, and he hoists you up, has your legs circling around his waist because space in this cramped stall is both a luxury and a curse.

You tell him to fuck you, not to waste time on foreplay because you've been waiting so long, and he knows, he's just as bad.

❝ I will after, I promise... I fuckin' promise I'll take my time then. ❞

He groans as he pushes into you, feeds you his cock. You're right; you're ready for him, cunt swallowing him whole as he fucks you against the shower tile.

❝ Just too easy, sweetheart. ❞

#don’t read this I think I wrote this under a fever dream #i'm pretty sure i had more to say and just cut to the chase #john price x reader #john price smut #john price x you #captain john price #cod headcanons

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just-a-girl-who-wrytes · 9 months

Text

When will I come up with a name for this? Only time will tell....

PART 7. <3

The next morning Nikki woke up in the arms of the man she loved. Their night together was everything Nikki had dreamed of and more.

“Good morning, beautiful.” David said, his voice still heavy with sleep, when he realized his lady was awake.

“Mmm, good morning, baby.” She moaned and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

“Would you like to take a shower with me?”

“Is shower sex involved?” Nikki asked with a chuckle.

“One hundred percent yes.”

After their first night together Nikki wasn’t sure if she could physically endure anymore orgasms, but she would love to bring David to another one and it still felt amazing in the process. She followed David into the shower once he had gotten the water hot. He pulled her into his embrace as the water ran down their intertwined bodies. After a few moments, David pulled Nikki from his chest, turned her around and began make sure her hair was wet and ready for shampoo. He grabbed her shampoo, squirted some into his hand and began working it through her hair, massaging it into her scalp. After her hair was soaped up, he took the time to wash his own hair and beard while Nikki cleaned her face with face wash. Once Nikki rinsed her face, David washed his hair and beard, then turned Nikki again so he could work the shampoo out of her hair. Nikki stood with her arms folded in front of her, enjoying the intimacy she was sharing with David. Nikki put conditioner in her hair while David put her body wash on her loufa. She turned around to face him and kissed his cheek as he began washing her chest.

“I love you, David Kay.”

David paused washing Nikki’s body and looked at her with a smile, “I love you more than anything, baby… and I will never get tired

of hearing you say it.”

Nikki rinsed after David washed her, only to have to wash again once David was finished with her. She loved making him feel so good.

The couple was on the way to grab lunch once they finished in the shower and got dressed. David’s hand was holding Nikki’s on the center console.

“So, one thing that I completely forgot about last night… we didn’t use a condom and we didn’t talk about me pulling out…” David said.

Nikki could sense the hesitation in his voice.

“My birth control is in my arm…” She said, “It stays there. I haven’t had a period in years and I’ve spent 31 years in this body, I know ovulation aches and pains and I also haven’t had those in years. I’m not concerned, but if you are, I don’t mind condoms.”

“No, baby, I was just asking. I don’t want to scare you off, nor am I trying to have the ‘I’m ready for kids when you are.’ Talk, but there are worse things in this world than making a baby with someone you love.”

Nikki grew distant for a moment and Deacon was worried he might have scared her by being too forward. His worry multiplied when he saw tears threatening to spill from her eyes. The couple sat in silence until he noticed her breathing pattern change – attempting to calm herself without falling apart.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t -“

“No, David, it’s not you…” Nikki said. Deacon squeezed her hand. She sniffed.

“There was one part of the story I left out when I told you about the attack from my ex.” She suddenly became petrified of telling her lover the truth. She was terrified that he would lose all trust in her and worst of all – she was scared she would lose him.

“What’s that, love?” His voice was soft… comforting.

“The reason that he attacked me that day was because he found out I was pregnant… despite raping me on multiple occasions, he was insistent that he didn’t want children. I had to agree with him. No child should have been born into that environment. I hid my pregnancy for 23 weeks - that’s why I was trying to leave. Until he found the sonogram pictures in my car. When he cut me that day, he missed my uterus, but my blood loss killed my baby.”

The tears spilled from her eyes as she thought back on feeling her baby move and watching her belly grow. Her baby would always be a part of her. Deacon had no words for his girl. He immediately pulled into the next parking lot, got out, and took Nikki into his arms as she sobbed. He was surprised that she had kept this from him after telling him the first part of her story, but he made conscious efforts to put himself in her shoes. Regardless, he couldn’t be mad at her – not with her falling apart in his arms like this.

“He took so much from me, David.” She cried in between breaths.

“I know, I know, baby.” Deacon tried to console her as he rubbed her hair. He kissed her head.

Nikki thought she had gotten over this…. But again, maybe she hadn’t.

Deacon was slightly bothered that Nikki had left out such a huge part of that story, but after seeing how much it still affected her, he decided to let it go.

“Her name was going to be Dakota…” Nikki said, her voice weak with surrender.

“I know she would have been just as beautiful as you, darling. There’s not a doubt in my mind she’s watching down over you, so very proud of the woman you are.”

Deacon held his love in his arms until she indicated she was ready to resume their day. Once they were in his truck on their way to food again, Nikki began apologizing. She hadn’t meant to unload on David like she had and part of her felt guilty for not disclosing this information beforehand, but now she understood why her mind chose to suppress it.

“Sweetheart, please don’t ever apologize for feeling the way you feel. I’m here to love you through it all.” Deacon kissed the back of her hand.

Nikki knew Deacon had questions and she was more than willing to answer, so she began.

“I guess that’s why I never got into another relationship after Jason - my ex. I knew the heartache I experienced every single day knowing what a horrible dad my baby was going to have and I knew that in order to protect her, it would mean leaving… and leaving killed her.” Nikki felt nauseated at finally voicing these thoughts, feelings, and emotions, but she continued. “I’ve never met anyone that even came close to what a husband and father should be in my opinion. I always refused to put myself or any innocent lives in that danger again. It ate away at me for so long and clearly it still bothers me, but I’ve come a long, long way since then.

“I want to have children one day, with the right person and David, you are my person. I don’t necessarily want children right now, but you give me such a security… you are home to me, David. That’s why last night, I didn’t care what happened in the aftermath of it all. I still don’t. My birth control does a pretty effective job, and one day, when we decide it’s time to have children, I can get it removed, but until then, I’m not die hard on all preventative measures.”

“Nikki, whatever makes you feel at ease is what I am willing to do for you… no matter what that means.” David looked longingly into Nikki’s eyes as he parked in the restaurant parking lot. He leaned across the console, pulling Nikki in for a kiss. Her lips still tasted salty from her earlier tears and it crushed him.

Several days later at work, Hondo walked in on Deacon searching for Jason Matthews.

“Who’s that?” Hondo inquired.

“Nikki’s ex-husband…” Deacon said, lost in concentration as he read the prick’s rap sheet.

“Ex-husband?”

“Yeah, man.”

“You didn’t tell me she came with all of that baggage… does she still talk to him?”

Hondo’s words struck a nerve in Deacon and he found himself slightly irritated at his teammate. He opened the window that held Matthews’ obituary and slid the laptop Hondo’s way. Hondo’s eyebrows furrowed as he read the article that detailed how the man lost his life.

“Holy… fucking… shit…” Hondo looked up at Deacon, “I’m so sorry, man.”

Deacon took the laptop back and scrolled through several mugshots. Most of them were from his marriage to Nikki.

“She was pregnant too…”

This caught Hondo off guard and Deacon could tell by puzzled expression on the man’s face.

“That’s what started it all. He raped her, found out she was pregnant halfway through the pregnancy, didn’t want the kid, so tried to kill the kid himself by gutting her. Nikki shot him in the head, but lost so much blood it killed her baby… Her baby girl.”

Hondo had no words.

“Yeah, I was just as surprised as you are. But you’d never be able to tell it, brother. She’s had to do even more work on herself than I have.”

“She’s a fighter,” Hondo agreed. “So does she want kids later on?”

Deacon nodded. “She’s on birth control now, but that’s all we use.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

Deacon appreciated how Hondo always cared about his situation, but ultimately cared the most about him as his SWAT family member.

“Honestly? She could tell me she’s pregnant right now and I would be just as happy as if it were something we were planning. I’m not scared of it, man.”

“You know,” Hondo grinned, “You’re gonna marry that girl one day.”

Deacon chuckled. “You are absolutely right.

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sickficideas · 7 months

Note

🍎 for ryūnosuke?

Sick or Treat!

of course i skip to him right away cause he's my favorite hehe...

(Warnings: emeto/vomiting, a little angsty, vague references to his terminal illness)

🍎 (Food Poisoning) - Akutagawa + Gin and Higuchi

“I’m the worst person ever,” Ichiyo laments, totally meaning for that thought to stay inside her head.

“You are not the worst person ever,” Gin assures her, sounding almost like a kindergarten teacher consoling a child. She’s busy clipping Akutagawa’s hair back with barrettes in wake of Ichiyo’s failed attempt to use a hairband. She's already had to wash some vomit out of his hair.

“You couldn’t…couldn’t possibly have known,” Akutagawa barely manages, leaning against the side of the shower door, beside the toilet, where he’s spent the last forty-five minutes, at least. He looks a little more comfortable now with the comforter Ichiyo brought to him, but he’s still downright miserable. He has enough stomach issues as it is, he really didn’t need food poisoning on top of all of that. Ichiyo will certainly cross off the restaurant they went to for lunch as a possibility for the future ever again.

She feels awful, seeing Akutagawa so sick, completely able to do anything to truly help him feel better. It was only an hour or two ago when he first told her over the phone that he was feeling sick to his stomach, simply asking Ichiyo if she could pick something up for him. She should have known it was this bad. He wouldn't ask for help otherwise. He had even managed to avoid involving Gin, but Ichiyo has undone that attempt.

“I'll be right back,” Gin says.

Akutagawa seems to doze off for a few moments, and Ichiyo is glad that he has a second to, but it doesn't last for long. A quiet, half-asleep cough turns into a gag, and without much warning at all, he's haphazardly brought his hand up to his mouth, too late to catch any of the vomit that falls down the front of the comforter.

Ichiyo squeaks and scurries to get next to him to lead him back to the toilet. For a second, she thinks he might be done, but it sounds like his body is still so nauseous from it all that it's still forcing gags, and bringing up more of his evidently undercooked lunch splashing into the toilet water. He can't even get a few seconds of sleep with how awfully nauseous he is. His poor tummy.

He's almost distraught, this time, he didn't have any chance of making it to the toilet in time but Ichiyo does what she can to comfort him, keeping a hand on his back that's starting to feel much too warm to be normal. He groans from the pain. His breathing starts to get irregular again.

“I'll take it to get washed right away,” Ichiyo promises, since he's clearly more concerned with the vomit on the comforter than how he's feeling. She can't help but pout when he lays his cheek on the lid of the toilet seat, his eyes feverish and face red, still visibly nauseous. She carefully reaches for the comforter, still halfway over his lap, and folds it up, tucking it away in the corner. “I'm so sorry, Akutagawa…”

“You didn't…you didn't do anything wrong, Higuchi,” he says with a few unsteady, nauseous sounding breaths in between. He coughs, too, because of course his lungs won't give him a break. “You…shouldn't have gone out of your way to…to help me…”

Ichiyo’s always thrown off when he talks like that, it's not like him to say things like that at all - to anyone, but especially not her. He's always so docile when he's sick like this.

“I'll always try to help you. However I can,” she says quietly.

Gin is back in the doorway with a glass of water that she sets on the sink counter just in time for Akutagawa to weakly lift up his head and choke up a mouthful of vomit. She kneels down beside him and rubs his back, gently and methodically like she's done it a million times. He's sick so often, Ichiyo doesn't even want to think about how many times they've been in this situation. And it's only been getting worse, in the last few months.

She sneaks out with the folded blanket and wanders into their laundry room to dump it into the washer right away. There's a sweater down at the bottom too that's got vomit stains on it too. That's what he was wearing when she found him, curled up on the kitchen floor, his stomach causing him so much pain that he couldn't move. Her eyes flood with tears. It is her fault. She took him to that restaurant. He wouldn't be so sick if she had picked somewhere else for them to eat after their shift ended, even though she was just trying to get him to eat at all. She was glad he even agreed to it.

She rubs at her eyes, knowing Gin will pick up on any sign of her crying if she starts now, but she's too late. She jumps. There's a hand on her shoulder.

Gin doesn't ever turn the stealth off.

“Higuchi,” she says with a frown full of pity. “It's okay. He'll be okay, he always is.”

The tears stream down her face when she says that and Gin doesn't waste any time wrapping her arms around her, tight, and Ichiyo does it right back. Gin is so used to seeing her brother vulnerable that it doesn't hurt her nearly as much as it does for Ichiyo, but she feels her grip shake. She's worried too.

“Thank you for coming to take care of him. And calling me,” Gin says gently. “I'm really grateful that you're so kind.”

“Gin…” Ichiyo murmurs, her tears clouding her vision now, as she buries her face in Gin's shoulder.

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from-luna · 1 year

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Hey! How about Gojo with shower sex? ;)

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Satoru comes home after a long day at work, while you are in the shower. So he happily interrupts, eager to fill his mind solely with thoughts of your creamy pussy.

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 ➵ 1.1k/4 minutes

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 ➵ shower sex, praise, needy!satoru, squirting, fingering, biting, spanking, light pain kink, some hair pulling

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐚 ➵ hi! I love this because he would be so damn handsy during a shower. Plus scrubbing him, feeling his hard body while doing so, ugh 😩

The outline of your body through the steamed glass is inviting. More then the promise of washing away his fourteen-hour shift. Instead he could bury his frustration in your pussy. And chase away the grating sound of the elders in his head with your moans.

Stripping his clothes, dropping them into his personal hamper. Crooning over your music. “Sweet cheeks, honey bun, baby, princess! You’re favorite and best boyfriend is home!” Dimming the lights, taking a deep breath of the smell coming from your wax warmer.

Water rushes from the second head, on the other side of the spacious shower. Since waiting to share a shower head is something Satoru refuses to do. Along with letting you shower alone.

Changing your music to something with a slower beat on his fuck boy playlist. Sliding the glass doors opens, accusing you, “Taking a shower without me to distract you from it how rude of you!” Admiring your squishy, soft wet body, dripping with white suds.

Standing underneath the water, groaning as the hot water rushes over his body. Grabbing his body wash, pouring it on his fluffy sponge. Which is blue with little white clouds in it.

You couldn’t help but think of him when you saw it. It was something dumb but Satoru adores the cutesy touches you’ve made to his home. Which beforehand was fairly bland due to how often he was at work, decorations were never at the forefront.

Satoru steps out of the rushing water. Slowly rubbing soapy circles on his hard abs. Soap drips down his navel into his short white hair. Squeezing the sponge, mentioning,

“Sweetheart, I found this horror movie. We could snuggle, watch some movies until you're ready for bed.” Grabbing the bottom of Satoru’s cock, sliding the soap down to his tip. Careful to make sure not to get soap in his slit.

Switching hands, cupping his balls with your lathered up hand. Massaging his heavy sack, covering him in soap. Rubbing his pecs with the sponge, questioning,

"What food do you want to order?” Satoru smiles, groaning loudly grabbing your hips. Letting you wash his pits, the scrubbing his arms.

Suggesting, “I could just eat you instead. Hold you up against the wall and make you scream my name with my tongue and fingers. Weren’t you texting your friend the other day how much you love how long, pretty, and thick my fingers are?” Cupping your cheeks, splaying your fingers out.

Pouting as you slid out of his grasp, kneeling in front of him. Confessing, "I do all the time. Can't help myself, I gushed over how hot you were before we got together. And now it's only gotten worse." Finishing srubbing his toned, lean legs.

Standing up, for him to wash away the bubbles. He smirks as he stands underneath the warm spray. He says,

"As you should, I'm very handsome. Just as you are beautiful." Watching you walk to the otherside of the shower to rinsing off his sponge underneath your stream. Moments pass before a large hand cups your cheek. Sliding his fingers down to the crease where your cheek and thigh meet.

Taking his sponge from you, mumbling, "Squishy ass, trying to swallow my finger." A wet smack fills the air. Your body rocks forward into the water, bracing yourself on the wall to steady yourself.

Satoru hangs his blue poof on its hook. He croons, "Ooo honeybuns!" His long pale, veiny cock stands up, bouncing a little as he walks over. He insists,

"We can finish showering in a moment. Brace yourself on the window, please baby. I've missed seeing these sweet cheeks all day." The ceiling-to-floor blacken window makes up the further side of the wall. Giving a beautiful view of the city below, with no one peering in.

Bracing yourself on the window, with your legs spread and your butt poking out. Satoru slides his large hands down your backside, dragging his nails down. Arching your chest, pressing your breasts to the cool glass.

Leaning back with a gasp, pressing your ass to his thighs. Satoru's cock rests on top of your butt. He's too tall to line himself up without grabbing your hips. Lifting your feet on the floor.

Pressing your tits to the cool glass, making you squirm and whimper as you hold your head to the side. His long fingers slip into your hair, holding your head up. Satoru holds you like this, remarking

"You look more beautiful with every passing day, princess. Let me get some lovin', I've been working so hard annoying people today!" Dropping you back down onto your feet, stepping back and crouching.

Spreading your lips apart, clenching he groans loudly. Suggesting to Satoru, "Shouldn't I be taking care of you then?" He bites your cheek roughly, moaning. Slipping his finger into your pussy, massaging your speical spot.

Biting your other cheek as you reach back, grabbing a fistfull of his damp white hair. He lets go and slaps your cheek, watching it jiggle. Satoru assures you,

"Princess, letting me play with your beautiful, squishy pussy is taking care of me. I want to relax but I need to fuck out my pent up fustration by making rough, sweet love to you." The steam of the shower carrying his body wash, mixing with the smell from your wax warmer. While the slow, soft fuck me beats filling the air add to the passionate mood.

Bracing yourself against the window with both hands. Your knees press together as your legs quiver and toes curl. Pleading with Satoru,

"Faster toru! I want to cum so hard it splashes onto your face. Please! Oh fuck! Toru! Please! Nnn!" Pumping his fingers faster, slipping in a third. Stuffing your pussy full, as she squeches when he rubs his palm on your lips.

Even with Satoru fucking you back to sleep this morning before he left the pressure between your legs is building fast. The familair stroke of his fingers, are whilst he croons,

"Such a beautiful pussy, she looks so sexy taking my finger. Please let me see you cream beautiful." Groaning as your pussy clenches his fingers as he bites your thigh. The pain tingling in your pussy, with is spasming with intense pleasure.

Satoru is relentless, massaging that speical spot with his soft large fingertips. While the rest of his long, thick fingers strokes your squishy wall. Three of his fingers filling you better than all four of your own could.

Begging Satoru,"Toru please don't stop. You're fingers inside my pussy are going to make me gush. Nn mark me whilst you finger fuck your pussy." He lets your thigh go and gives your cheek a harsh slap. Made louder by the echo of the bathroom.

Satoru moans, "She's quivering, begging me to cum." Finger fucking your pussy with in human speed. You Once I do, and she's senstive and trembling I'm going to fill her up with my cock. Stuff her full of so much cum she is dripping even with my cock plugging her up." Thick slick drips down Satoru's wrist. He moans loudly,

"So beautiful sweetheart, I knew you could do it for me. Good girl." Slipping his fingers out, nudging his tongue past your lips. Your quivering pussy clamping down on his hot tongue as he groans. The last of your slick drips down his face.

Masterlist

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru

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