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#virtually gone from your life
aeon-knight · 2 years
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relistening to the trial arc makes me ILL bro /pos
its just. the way its so unfair. the way it feels so inherently wrong. how both we as the audience AND glenn learn about nicks true character, setting him up to fix these problems and properly connect with his son, only for everything to be ripped out from beneath our feet. its jarring. it feels like everything is going too fast. any shred of hope for a second chance is gone. glenn tried, goddammit it he tried, but he fucked up, and he was never given the chance to fix it. i cant express how dreadful that is, to realize your mistakes just too late, knowing full well the negative effect they had on the person you love most, right before that person as you know them is taken from you forever. you have to live every day seeing that person and thinking "you used to be mine" and knowing that your relationship will never be the same. and nothing you can ever do will change that. what the fuck.
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 4 months
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When You’re Gone
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(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)
Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K
Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!
A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤
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You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.
That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.
You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.
Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.
You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.
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Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.
Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.
The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.
But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.
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Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.
You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.
Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.
“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”
As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.
You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.
As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.
You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.
“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.
“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.
“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”
“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”
“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”
You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.
“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”
“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”
“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”
His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.
“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”
“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”
When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.
“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”
“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”
“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.
“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”
“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.
“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.
“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”
“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.
“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.
“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“
“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.
“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”
One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.
“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”
“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”
“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”
“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.
“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.
“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”
“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.
“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.
“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.
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You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.
“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.
“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”
“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”
“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”
“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”
He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.
“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”
“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.
“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.
“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.
“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”
You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.
“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.
“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.
“Fuck, get up here, now.”
He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.
“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.
“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.
“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”
You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.
“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”
“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.
“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.
You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.
“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”
Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.
“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”
“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”
“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.
“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.
“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.
“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.
“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.
“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”
“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”
“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”
“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”
He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.
“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”
He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.
“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”
“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”
“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”
“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”
He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.
“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.
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Taglist: @littlexdeaths @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @hippiegoth97 @jenniquinn @take-everything-you-can
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oceantornadoo · 5 months
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sleepy morning (simon riley x f!reader)
part 4 of the two lieutenants series...HORNINESS LEVEL 1000
tw: wet and messyyyyyyyyy MDNI
--
that had to have been the best sleep of your life.
no seriously. extra strength melatonin could not compare to sleeping with simon THEE “ghost” riley. you had never had such a broad, thick man on top of you. and you liked it.
now, however, you found yourself in a much more compromising position.
the sleep had started innocent enough, you both insisting it was a platonic arrangement, a cheap version of getting a weighted blanket. but you had shuffled in your sleep, and now your bodies were tangled. simon's head lay on your collabone, his mouth hovering over your clothed breast, emitting small sighs in his sleep. your nipples were aching at the prolonged stimulation, his breath changing the temperature and making them harden. his hands grasped you beneath your arms, thumbs brushing the sides of your tits. you didn't think it was on purpose, but you had been on the edge for hours.
simon nuzzled closer into you, feigning sleep as long as possible. his left thigh wedged between your legs, his right bracketing the outside of yours to keep you right there. his morning wood, clothed by his thin sweats, laid heavy against your thigh. he could almost smell the wetness between your thighs, the way you tried humping him when you were asleep. little, uncontrolled movements of your hips, up and down, chasing friction. he tried to stop his teeth from sinking into your clothed tit, the softness of it so tempting. you were right there, almost his, yet so far it felt like foreign territory. somewhere he's been plenty of times, unwelcome. he had to tread carefully. then of course, soap had the gall to knock.
"l.t.? yer on recruit training, started a couple minutes ago." simon groaned against you, providing even more friction to your tit. guess he couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore. "'m sick. cancel it." a pause, soap was unbelieving. when simon was sick, if anything, he coached the recruits with even more vengeance than usual. "yer sure?" simon propped himself up on his forearms, squishing you in between them even more. you looked up at him, a dream with your tired eyes and a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. he laid a small kiss to your forehead, so small you must still be dreaming. "cancel it. 'm bedridden today." his gravelly morning voice must have been enough for soap, who he could virtually hear straightening up after leaning against simon's doorframe. "got it, l.t."
simon breathed a sigh of relief. finally, finally, he acknowledged you. "mornin' dovie. sleep well?" sleep well?! you had slept like the dead. "best sleep of my life, simon. might have to make this a regular thing." you joked, still unsure of the lines that had been erased last night. and that forehead kiss. "available whenever ya need, love." you were still tangled together, his cock still against your cunt. you bucked against him again involuntarily, the whisper of friction too light for you. you both looked down together at where you were almost touching, separated by two layers of fabric. "simon i-"
another loud knock. "what." simon gritted out. "seen the better lieutenant, ghost? we're supposed to run drills today an' i can't find her." it was gaz and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. simon looked down at you questioningly and you shook your head vehemently. "she's sick. contagious." gaz was choking back a laugh. he must have talked to soap before this. "alrigh', i'll tell price. get better, you two." fuck.
"shit, si, i'm sorry. should have slept at my own place i-" another forehead kiss this time, a bit longer than the first. he trailed his mouth to your nose, small pecks here and there. turning his head down, he nosed your jaw, inhaling the smell of your mixed scents. like you were two of the same. one.
"can i?" you were so far gone it took a bit for his question to register. you had tilted your head back to give him more access, a willing prey to your domestic predator. "can- can you what?" he moved down a bit more, cock moving away from your cunt. you unwillingly let out a whine at the loss of contact and he chuckled into your skin. "suck your tits, baby." oh. oh.
"yes, yes. please"
he laughed again, the sensation vibrating through your skin. his mouth finally made contact with your tit, mouthing at it over your t-shirt. thankfully, it was thin, so you can feel the slight suck and the ghost of a bite. he alternated between your breasts, hands rolling the other nipple he wasn't sucking. your shirt was wet, sticking to your skin, drenched in saliva. "simon, can you- please." the last part was a moan as he gave you a bigger bite. "use your words, lieutenant." he was rutting into the bed, cock chasing much needed friction. he didn't want to scare you but his need for you was bubbling over, a pot on the stove too long. "my shirt, ah, my shirt off."
he freed you from your shirt, the fabric drenched in his saliva, sticking to your skin as he peeled it off. your tits were wet and slightly bruised from his minstrations. marked.
"you like my marks on you?" you looked down, not caring about the unsexy double chin as you took in what he had done to you. keeping it platonic was done and dead, and you were going to take advantage of it.
"more."
a willing soldier, he dove back in, licking and sucking like he had been made for it. his right hand went lower, palm pressing against your wet pussy for some much-needed attention to your clit. you had never come from nipple stimulation alone, but you had been edged for hours while you were sleeping. the pressure on your clit was perfect, the wetness seeping through your sleep shirts onto his callused hand. he let go of your nipple with a loud smack, a string of saliva dripping from his chin. "think you can come like this, dove?" you nodded furiously, his desperate little dove. simon went back down to your abandoned tits and you gasped at the feeling of his bite. he pressed his palm harder against your aching cunt, virtually feeling the flutter of your wanting pussy, pleading for him. he rubbed it in circles, up and down, listening to your sounds to find a pattern you liked.
and suddenly he had it, your back arching as you felt that telltale spark at the base of your spine. simon felt it, your desperation increasing tremendously as you bucked into his hand, thrusting out your tits like a bitch in heat. "right there, baby. come fer' me, hm?" you nodded as he gave your tit one last long suck and pressed his palm right where you needed it, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. he lightly tongued your breasts as you came down, cleaning up his mess. "feel better?" you groaned, the reality of how desperate you had acted finally hitting you.
"they all know, simon. the whole base knows by now." he moved up until you two were face to face. so what if the whole base knew? you had been his since that first handshake.
"so what?"
--
guys this was so horny wowwwwwwwww ovulation hitting me fr
2K notes · View notes
starlightomatic · 6 months
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hi, i just want to remind folks that a lot of people on here have personal connections to people who died or were kidnapped on october 7th. please keep this in mind when you want to understand why we react so much when people denying, minimize, or celebrate it.
a couple of months ago i met vivian silver's best friend. vivian silver was a long-time peace activist who was burned to a crisp so badly on october 7th that it took weeks to identify her body. my ex-boyfriend's family was friends with her as well, and they spent those weeks believing she was a hostage and hoping for her return, only to discover that she had been dead the whole time.
a couple weeks ago i met the sister of a nova festival survivor. she said that the hours when her brother was out of contact and they didn't know if he was alive or dead were both the shortest and longest hours of her life. another friend of mine lost five friends that day. yet another friend lost two friends who were on a biking trip in southern israel.
a couple who i know because they attended my childhood synagogue while in the US for two years lived in kibbutz nahal oz. they always told us how beautiful it was, and how they wanted us to visit it. now we can't; it's destroyed, with several of its residents killed. they and their two young girls miraculously survived after hiding in their safe room for ten hours before being rescued. a good friend of mine's boyfriend is from one of the kibbutzim that was destroyed, but he was not there at the time and so survived.
once, many years ago when the ex-boyfriend who i mentioned above (the one who knew vivian) were on a gap year in israel, i visited him on the kibbutz he was living on on a thursday night, and his friend gave us a ride to a bus station the next day to help us get to our shabbat destinations. the friend was headed on to visit friends at kibbutz be'eri, now destroyed, with over 10% of residents killed. i don't know if that man's friends survived.
another friend of mine, who was my coworker for several months when she was in the US last year, lived in metula in northern israel, on the border with lebanon. because of the war, she and many others are internally displaced within israel, because her home is not safe from rockets. recently, a mutual friend told me her house has been destroyed.
another friend of mine attended virtual synagogue with chaim katzman, a young man who spent time in the west bank protecting palestinian shepherds. when hamas fighters opened the closet he was hiding in to capture hostages, they shot him immediately, before taking hostage the women and children hiding in the closet with him.
in total, i have at least eight friends-of-friends who were killed on october 7th. the actual number is probably far higher, since i have a lot of friends in israel and many israelis lost people; but the eight is confirmed.
all of this to say: please understand when you're interacting with me and other jumblr bloggers that this is not theoretical to us. maybe to some of you, it's an academic excercise in seeing fanon's works in practice. maybe it's about decolonial theory and you might think "ah, well, decolonization is violent, what a shame but it was necessary." please remember it's easier to think that when you're not the one sitting at a shabbat lunch table with your mom's old friend who had to learn within the past few months that a woman she'd built movements with and was best friends with had been burned so badly she couldn't be identified for weeks.
i already know that people will believe the purpose of this post is to "generate consent for genocide" no matter what i say, but i'm going to say it anyway: nothing justifies genocide. nothing justifies the brutality that israel visits on the palestinian people. the people of gaza have gone through an order of magnitude more horror than what israelis have. the entire gaza strip is destroyed; people's homes, schools, mosques, orange orchards, everything. entire families have been killed with not a single surviving member. people have starved to death. people lack sanitation, menstrual products, and safe places to give birth. children are operated on without anesthesia. this is one of the greatest humanitarian crises of this century and it is israel's fault.
we need a ceasefire now; we needed a ceasefire yesterday; we needed a ceasefire months ago; we needed this never to begin. blowing up a child in gaza does not bring back vivian, it does not bring back chaim, it does not bring back my friend's cycling friends. it doesn't untraumatize the girl who waited hours to know if her brother was okay or the young family trapped for ten hours in their safe room. and i know for a fact that vivian and chaim would never have wanted this. not in their names, or at all.
so i am not posting this in an attempt to deny, minimize, excuse, or justify the genocide of the people of gaza, or to deny or excuse the nakba, the israeli raids in the west bank, settler violence, land theft both past and present, burning of olive trees, checkpoints and the restrictions on palestinian movement, the denial of right of return, and the fact that most palestinians do not have voting rights in the country that controls their lives.
i also understand that there are folks on here who have just as many personal connections to gaza -- or more -- than i do to israel. that it's deeply personal to them too, and they have watched as loved ones die, places they love and remember are bombed to dust, and people continue to minimize it, excuse it, or fight over semantics. i understand that this post will not land well for many of those folks, and that it will have activated people to hear me speak of nahal oz as a beautiful place i wanted to visit, because that land likely once belonged palestinian families, and was seized after its residents were herded into gaza during the nakba.
and.
people are human. humans deserve to live in safety. friends of humans who are harmed will feel pain, even if those friends lived on colonized land. i also live on colonized land, i am a settler. i live on the lands of indigenous peoples. when i looked up the nation whose land i live on, i can find information about their history but no information on where they went or whether they still exist. i don't know if they experienced a genocide and were all killed, or if they joined another people. i know i have never met any of them, and i live on their land.
and i'm not the only one. millions of people on this site are also colonizers of indigenous land. if you are not indigenous or Black, and you live in the US or Canada, you are every bit as complicit as my friends' dead friends in israel. your beautiful town is not morally better than nahal oz. you recognize yourself and your friends as people; you see their humanity.
i am beyond begging you to see the humanity of israelis, i think many of you can't. instead, this is my request:
remember, as you're doing your callouts, as you're describing me as evil and a person who needs to be blocked for the safety of your followers to i don't infect you or them with my evil:
i say and feel the things i do in large part from a traumatic event that occurred less than a year ago that i am personally connected to. please use what you know of trauma to understand that.
and then, if you can do that, maybe we can start to understand how trauma plays into why israel is the way it is; why trauma is actually the biggest player. so many of you have asked "how could a people who've been brutalized and oppressed brutalize and oppress another people?" my question: why would you expect that not to happen? trauma responses include fear, anger, aggression, compassion fatigue. when a population of descendants of refugees and genocide survivors, in a world that they believe to be out to get them, either supports or turns a blind eye to their government's atrocities, i am not surprised. saddened, but not surprised.
we then have to start asking: who enacted those traumas? when will we start to see the pain of both palestinians and israelis in light of the violence inflictated by far more powerful entities? by germany in the holocaust; russia and poland in the pogroms; swana arab countries in the persecution of jews post-WW2? who's at the top here? many of you are happy to believe it's jews pulling all the strings, but who set this in motion?
who denied jews safe haven before the holocaust, thus enabling this trauma to be inflicted in the first place? the US, and nearly all countries around the world. who restricted jewish immigration even post-holocaust, thus funneling huge numbers of jewish refugees into palestine, overwhelming the population even if israel had not been a colonial project? again, the US, and many other countries. who made double-promises and drew arbitrary lines in the region leading to decades of conflict? the UK.
who's funding this war? the US. Russia. Iran. don't be fooled that any of them care about israelis or palestinians. they have their own interests.
israelis and palestinians are the collateral damage in a horrible chess game that world powers have been playing for centuries. but they are not collateral damage, they are human beings, and their lives have value. collective liberation demands we look at the levels above the oppressor to see who is holding the strings, who put the puzzle pieces in place, who set off the levers and strings in a noxious rube goldberg machine that left nahal oz and be'eri in ruins and gaza destroyed almost beyond recognition.
my friends' little girls cowering in a safe room were never the enemy. chaim katzman hiding in a closet hoping the fighters would overlook it and leave him alive, or at very least capture him instead of kill him, was never the enemy. and they can't be; not if our goal is freedom and safety for everyone in israel/palestine. choosing who will dominate and who will be the oppressed minority in whatever comes next will not be the answer we need, and will not be liberation. just as zionism was not liberation. what can we build together, when this is all over?
what do we need to dismantle and destroy?
let's start with what we don't: homes. villages. cities. kibbutzim. orange trees. olive trees.
and who do we need to fight?
let's start with who we don't: the children.
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honestsycrets · 1 year
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Stung | [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]
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❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x reader
❛ type | oneshot
❛ summary | after a discus malfunction, you're bitten by an anomaly and refuse medical attention. you're in a state that you refuse to show to miguel-- at all costs.
❛ tags | NSFW, sex pollen, mention of a wound, slight chase, miguel o'hara doesn't like to be ignored, cum eating, creampies, abnormal amount of fluid, venom bite, slapping, some insecurity, spanish is not translated, sexual memories.
❛ sy’s notes | my obligatory ABO-sex pollen fic for ATSV. i usually make a ABO/Sex Pollen piece per fandom I write in, so here's one for Miggy 🐝
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“All done!”
You slipped out of HQ’s packed infirmary with a jaunty bounce in your step. Crispy, coppery blood was matted onto your forearm concealed behind a hastily tied bandage. You weren't concerned about it. It would resolve within the hour. Likely less. As would your elevated body temperature. Despite the doctor's prattle about the benefit of further testing, you found their concern to be a non-issue. These things were virtual non-issues, even if the doctor and your man thought otherwise. 
The hallways at HQ were like any other day in your city. Congested with the coming and going of spiders in their daily lives. A glimpse at any group might reveal decadent flirting and haughty laughter. Some were in a rush to their own worlds, but most were completing work assigned by the Spider Society. The one you were looking for reclined against a wall with his arms interlocked one over the other. His displeased rumble prompted you to his presence above all other voices in the crowd. 
“You should have let them run the tests.” His voice was teased with concern but became mild, little more than a drab sigh at your refusal. You blew off his concern with a shake of your hand, gone yellow and bubbly behind a bit of ineffectual gauze. His eye glazed over the wound. You couldn't tell what he was thinking behind his mask, but you didn't need to. You only needed to convince him you were right.
“It’s stopped bleeding, Miggy. It’s just a scratch,” You held up your arm, flicking it with emphasis. His eyebrows raised for a moment, then flattened, staring at you with a dull rictus. “It was just a brief malfunction of the discus.” 
Technically it was more of an impalement, but if Miguel wasn’t going to ask, you weren’t going to invite him to delve deeper. Otherwise, you might spend the next few hours of your life fixing a wound that surely would have closed up by the time results were back. The injury site mildly itched. That was all. Never mind, the slight, honey-colored rash migrating from the puncture site to your elbow. Or the referred pain. Minor things. 
“You’re being stubborn.” 
“You’re the one to talk.” You snapped the discus free from your sash and chucked it toward Miguel.  He caught it with an unsurprising amount of ease, claws clicking in unison against the ineffectual metal.
“¡Qué problema!” he mocked, his voice dry and absent of discernible emotion. 
You closed the distance between your bodies to slide your arms around his broad neck. His other hand came to your lower back. It was warm, the way he touched you, from the bundles of affection that fluttered in your belly to the heat dappling across your chest. You missed this every day. It made fleeing the infirmary all the more worth it.
“I put the anomaly in another discus. One that actually works, no thanks to your programming.”
“That’s what happens when you take things without asking.” He flicked the discus between his thumb and index finger, waggling it for emphasis. It was true that there had been nights that went with banging, clacks, clatters, and the occasional outburst when things weren’t quite going his way. There were a few discuses on his desk. You just so happened to take the one that malfunctioned. “I was working on it. ¿Qué era?” 
“Oh,” you mumbled. “Just some stingy bees. What harm could they do?” 
His eyes roamed your wound. You couldn't help but look down too, both horrified and fascinated by the way the rash had moved in just a brief few minutes. The colour had begun to fade. You glanced up, flattening your mouth into a slight, forced smile.
“Fine. If you're sure.”
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To be fair, you secured many anomalies with and without the help of others. They all went into their cozy, temporary forcefield homes until they could be fairly redirected to their appropriate dimensions. In the downtime, you could help or hinder Miguel's progress. Then, your watch would alert you to another disturbance and the cycle would continue. 
Until that morning. 
Your watch blared, and blared, and blared some more. The early morning sun began to rise and cast offensive beams of light into your room. Usually, it didn’t bother you. But this morning, everything offended you from the scratch of silky sheets on your naked body to Lyla illuminating what darkness was left, all golden and cute. You wondered if that was how Miguel felt when you forgot to pull the curtains, strung out on the bed after he finished with you.
“Woah! Oops!” she turned, covering her eyes with her spindly fingers. A growing ache throbbed between your legs. It wasn’t quite the same dull soreness from Miguel’s late-night visit last night, either. “Sorry, sorry. Miguel--”
“He can handle it,” you bit out, snappier than you intended. It wasn't like you. “Or-- Jess. No, Gwen. Gwen can do it, she loves--” 
“He asked for you.” 
Of course, he did. You scrunched a pillow over your head. Your Miguel couldn’t see you this. Absolutely not. You debated getting up, ignoring what you called a negligible ache that was quickly morphing into a terrible pounding. You can't believe how quickly the thought fell apart, pushing yourself to sit up in bed. The ghost of his scent floods your nose, flashing memories of the night before.
Something at work set him off. Something that commanded no intimacy, but the mechanical release of his rage that wouldn't destroy precious resources. He sat on the edge of the bed, driving your mouth onto his cock with the aid of your hair bundled around his fist. You recalled the shakiness of his thighs under your fingers, his firm legs spread wide fucking your mouth with cold abandon. He chased his own orgasm selfishly, needing the release, needing to see your body painted by whips of his cum sprayed across your exposed breasts. He pulled you off in silence, inspecting the drool and cum that spilled down your chin and throat in rivulets. "What--"
Your face tightened, glancing down at the growing tension in your belly. Everything began to annoy you, especially the scratch of the sheets against your skin, your bed empty of his presence. How could you tolerate that uniform plastered to your ass? You buried into the offensive bed. This was fine. This was normal, recalling what you'd done last night. Surely, the burn had to do with the whole being launched through not one, but two crumbling buildings the day before. The dust and rubble. Were you close to your cycle?
“Tell him I’m dead,” and without another word, you resolved the call. Within seconds she popped up again, bent at the waist because this was your life now. Never could you just… take a day off. There was always something. You muffled your screams of protest into the mattress and dug your feet in, kicking off the sheets, the blankets, the pillows, all of it.
“Is this a fit? You’ve never had a fit before,” Lyla noticed. A fit? She thought the burning of your body was a fit? Damn AI. Resolve. 
Resolve. Resolve. Resolve.
It became cathartic after a good while. Or it would have been if not for your senses hyper-fixating on every minor change in your body.  Despite your apprehension, you knew. What was once a dull pain radiating from your forearm morphed into something much worse. Something you couldn’t blame on the rather average experience of being pelted through the average event of windows and concrete. It was more than a tingle. It burned as it coursed through your body. 
You stumbled over the bundle of bedding into the bathroom. It was there that you realized that to your horror, you weren’t just lubricated, now you were soaked. Your fluids coursed down your thighs as you dabbed the region clean with a bundle of tissues. It did little good. Touching the area exasperated the issue. Maybe you needed an orgasm, maybe ten. An hour or so later, you slammed the heel of your palm into the mirror, fracturing it into shards of terrible glass that crumbled onto the countertop. Beads of blood dabbled onto your reflection. 
“If you d--” resolve.
So not a reaction to your average bee sting. Correction. A great, big, fat colony of hissing, buzzing bees. The act of recalling information was like jamming your hand into fluid water to snatch a tiny hair tie. No matter how many times you tried to recall the information, you couldn’t quite grasp it. It was there, floating around your head, but inaccessible. Your mind traveled back to Miguel. How gentle his lips could be, trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder when you rode him in reverse. How deep he'd go. 
"Fuck off!" Your watch blared again. Its beeping filled your bathroom, echoing over and over. You reached behind the door to pluck a silky white slip from its hook and dragged it over your head. You were about to resolve the call again when the hot timbre in his warm voice saying your name gave you pause. Your Miguel, popping up in a golden haze. You found yourself gazing at his full lips, full and plump. If only he was here. He could have his lips on your--
“What are you doing?” 
Lost in thought, you failed to realize that Miguel had been calling you by name again. You shook your hazy mind free of the thoughts that formed a swirling cloud over your head. You slumped down the wall and onto the floor.
Help was what you failed to say. As your mouth opened, nothing came out. The words were not wording. The vulnerability of asking for help was palpable. You soothed yourself by shifting your hands underneath your skirt. What would he think if he saw you here-- ripped asunder by your own biology? Whore. Miguel lowered his gaze, his eyes squinting at the sweat dabbling down your neckline as he looked you over. He wouldn't want you anymore.
“Are you listening? ¡Coño! What is wrong with you!?” 
Resolve.
You resolved him. Your Miggy-- resolved. Oh, you swallowed dryly. He wasn’t going to be happy about that. It wasn’t a matter of if Miguel would come for you. It was a matter of when. When he had time to separate himself from trashing-- whatever was the closest object to him in the lab-- to take out his rage on you. You reached for your medicine cabinet. You had more important things to worry about. First on the list? The searing heat.
Your watch was better off tucked away in a chest in the closet.
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Night came with no solutions. You crouched on your window sill, chest rising and falling. You sought to stare at anything but the mindless buzz of the tv screen inside. Even with light pollution, some stars winked in the distance. Your body was a bundle of warm heat, buzzing with irritation after a fruitless day of soothing your body. You grew accustomed to your pert nipples against your silky slip, the lubricant coursing down your leg. At first, denial. Now, acceptance. You thought tomorrow might be better.
You felt his presence before you heard, smelled, or saw him. Through the sea of scorched sensations battering your senses, there was one that stood apart. A tickle that niggled at the back of your head. It could have been anyone, but you didn’t have to guess to know who it was. “Lyla." 
“You haven’t called him all day,” Lyla squeaked. 
“Called all-- I answered his call!” Your dress was matted to your body, cloaked in an abhorrent amount of sweat. It was only minutes ago that you retrieved your watch confident that you could bullshit something, anything, for a few days of reprieve. You jammed your shaking finger to resolve the call. 
“Not all of them. Miguel was worried.” 
“Worried! Lyla, that is not worried,” you spat. That was your Miguel, scaling the side of your apartment. His talons cracking the siding of your apartment. The reverberations spiraled up your legs, sending waves of anticipation lapping at your core. After your long day, you weren't sure how you were still somehow upright. With every crack of his talon into the brick siding, you were running out of time to come up with an excuse.
In a bid to escape, you fell into your room. The hard floor knocked the breath out of your dry lips. You stumbled onto your feet and supported yourself with a bookcase of less than half-read books. “Lyla, he can’t see me like this!” 
“Then tell me what’s going on,” she popped back up. “C’mon, you can tell me, it can’t be that bad.”
If her tone was playful in some half-baked attempt to neutralize your fight, the threat was imminent. Your hand connected with the top of the window, applying pressure to close the window. A hair too late. At the same time, Miguel’s clawed hand curled around the bottom of the window sash. You were too slow for the man who excelled with power, speed, and efficiency. You weren't going to win this fight. Not with your body threatening to crack at the very sight of your man's strength.
Though you saw him nearly daily, he always took your breath away. His sinewy body was always a sight, his suit accentuated his thick and fine cut. You moistened your lips, longing to run your fingers through his thick dark brown hair as you did every night. You caught his sharp gaze a second longer than you should have.
 “Open up,” he whispered coolly.
He was a distraction. The wind was not on your side either, blowing wisps of his scent into your overwrought senses. His natural musk mixed with the sweat of a hard day's work. Somewhere in there, bitter blood. You could smell the caramelized scent of the flaky, buttery empanadas and hot coffee you shared the day before. It gave you pause, his intoxicating smell and the sultry trill of his voice. But you couldn’t let him see you, not like this.
“Oop, there he is. Just checking on you,” Lyla chittered. Resolve.
“Miggy, please go away,” you sobbed in frustration, shifting to shoulder the window. “Why are you so stubborn!?” 
“It’s who I am.” 
The window cracked all at once. With mere milliseconds to respond to the sash careening into the upper rail, you whirled past the bedroom door. Miguel broke into a run behind you with long strokes of his legs. He made contact, sending you barreling into your lazy sapphire couch from the impact. You saw stars for a fraction of a second before you lurched on your palms and elbows, scrambling off of the couch and across the floor. His hand caught your ankle and dragged you underneath his body.
“¡Ay!” you bit out. “No, no no no. Miggy!” 
“¡Callate!” 
His hand wrapped tightly around your throat to force complacency, pinning you back to the hardwood floor. Your palms slammed onto his chest, drawing lines down his chest. Bits of pathetic electricity fizzled on his broad, muscular chest, a consequence of your fading focus. That focus was eviscerated when Miguel threw his hips flat against your core. Your frantic fidgeting against Miguel soothed some of the terrible, buzzing pressure rattling between your legs like warm honey on a sore wound. The ache for his relief became more important than the impulse for substantial breaths.
“Don’t move. Why are you--”
“I can’t help it,” you cut him off, straining against his large palm to stare at his crotch. His gaze fell on yours, following the path to his soft cock. His eyes widened with the sudden attention. Tears threatened to spill over from your eyes, pricked with spikes of pain. "It's too much!"
You ate your shame with his body crouched between your legs and his large palm choking the air out of your throat. The influx of air not only brought your scent, but your day-long desperation to fix what you believed was wrong. He could smell it now. He could see it now. He could hear it in your voice. He knew why you failed to answer his calls. The violent jabbing of the resolve button. Throwing your watch into your cramped closet to ignore the calls. The pheromones that soaked your apartment. It was unavoidable.
“You can’t help it,” he repeated. Miguel considered you with razor-sharp eyes, nearly as sharp as the talons that rescinded into his arms. 
"I'll see about that." His hand left your neck to reveal bundles of bumpy shivers that soared across your skin. He raised his finger to wipe away the wet tears that fell from your flushed cheeks. Then dropping lower, Miguel chased the thin straps of your gown with his claw and slid the offending fabric off of your breast. The nub was as hard as it had been hours ago when you twerked the nipple between your fingertips and dreamed of Miguel.
“You’re...” he cupped your breast in your palm and massaged your nipple with one sharp twist of his thumb. The gasp that left your lips wasn’t one you were proud of. Your undulating hips that ground down on his cock weren’t entirely unwarranted. You needed it. "Hot. As if you're in heat."
This couldn’t be happening. From a ball of rage to one of arousal, he released a tiny amused chuckle. You spent much of the day in different parts of the apartment with your hand, toy, ice, and water into your body to soothe this terrible ache. So Miguel wouldn't see you like this. It was this moment you sought to avoid after your long day: The moment of Miguel's disapproval. Now he laughed at you.
“Happy?” you sobbed into the forearm that kept Miguel stable. “Go away, someone else could use your stupid help.”
“Don’t you need me?” Miguel dipped his head down. Strands of his dark hair tickled your hypersensitive skin. With the lightweight fabric of his suit, pressing your cunt back against his clothed bulge felt wonderful. You bit your lower lip and watched his cock jut against its fabric. You lifted your puffy eyes to his gaze and found a wicked gleam there. He knew it wasn’t enough contact for the pressure and painful spasms to abate. Deep down, you knew that Miguel was your only hope for relief. Who else could, or would, you call in this condition? Mostly because Miguel always fixed everything.
"Miggy," you murmured. After this pitiful display, he wasn't rejecting you? Your mind flowed weightless and light. The terror of your day faded under his careful caress. In its place, comfort that he would take care of you.
“Don’t you?” His hand snaked between your folds and found it soaked wet, the low throbbing of your pussy palpable. He retracted his fingers and spread the sticky fluid between his thumb and middle finger. At some point, silence became better than an answer. Miguel brought his hand down on your cunt for a sharp slap. Bundles of nerves cried out under the abuse. It shook free a squeal from your lips, bitten raw by the pressure of the day. Your head bobbed into a mechanical nod as to save yourself from another slap.
“You know how to ask. It’s si Miguel, por favor Miguel.”
You needed the warm sensation of his cum. But making those words proved too difficult. Your canines pierced bloody holes in your lower lip. You clawed up his forearms, trying to leverage and force him closer. Miguel grabbed your shoulders and thrashed them back down onto the floor. You felt bad for the downstairs neighbors. 
“Say it.” 
“Miggy,” you looked into his eyes. They were blown wide, nearly fully black with a thin outline of scarlet, chasing the outline of your exposed breast. For all his talk, you realized he wasn't immune. Even with his face tight, his eyes focused on the same thing you needed. Maybe, all this time, you were baiting Miguel with half-assed answers. They were invitations. Invitations to come to fill this need you had. You would be lying if you said that wasn’t what you wanted this whole time. Finally, you had him where you wanted him. 
Miguel broke eye contact first. He cupped his plush lips around your nipple, suckling the breast taut and wet. You cried out in surprise and arched into Miguel’s mouth, enticed by the fangs that grazed your nipple. As quickly as he came, he was gone.
You lurched up, palming Miguel's dick through his pants. His hips bucked into your palm. He refused to make any sound as he considered your next movements, releasing Miguel’s cock from his suit. Impatience and need coalesced into your brave movements, sliding your palm against him. He was impossibly thick and hard, dribbling at the tip. Miguel huffed a small noise as your palm ran over him. You dared to call it a moan.
Miguel sneered and shoved you back onto the floorboards. “I’ll only tell you one more time. Ask me properly.” 
"You do too, don't you?" You giggled. A noise that grated his ear. With the belief you wouldn’t bolt, Miguel shifted back onto his knees. You wouldn’t. There was nowhere left to run. Not that you even wanted to, fat and hungry off Miguel's growing desperation.
"Come here." He snaked his hands underneath your knees, dragged you close, and pushed them to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut. Moments later, the sensation of his thick dick sliding against your engorged folds forced them back open. It gave you just enough relief through the pulsing pain to look at him with your hazy eyes. From this angle, you appreciated how large Miguel had gotten. His round cock-head bobbed and crested over your mound as it rubbed against your aching clit. His face was trained, focused. He wasn't going to relent first.
The nagging pressure never abated. You sought something more, something better, the sensation of being filled. With every glide, you squeezed your walls in protest to his absence. Your hips protested the restriction of your movement, shimmying against the firm hold he had that kept you in place. You wanted more than that. You wanted true relief from his teasing. Miguel drew back to inspect the fluid over his fat shaft as held you down. You gave in, whining at him like a brat.
“Por,” you scratched his forearms. “Por favor, Miggy. You don’t know what it's like.” 
“All fours-- face down.” 
The cacophony of desire battered and overcame any other human emotion you could have. You complied, crawling onto your fuzzy indigo rug for what came next. Miguel’s gloved hand skimmed across your ass, middle finger skimming toward the center. He followed up his gentle touch by reeling back his hand and cracking it across your ass, searing the nerves alive. Once, twice, and then a third. Tears pricked your cheeks again, a consequence of your nerves being overwrought and now assailed.
“Miggy!” 
He shushed you with fervor, another thwack beating the jiggling flesh hot and red. Your legs trembled under the weight of his slaps. “Ignore my calls again and you’ll get much worse.”
“I didn’t-- you wouldn't want me,” your lips parted in defense of what you’d done. Miguel dipped down to spread your folds, rolling his index finger along your pulsing walls. Your body drew him in, squeezing and urging him forward. Your swollen walls were impossibly tight, straining to bring him in more and more.
"You know I do."
The need for more devoured any other thought, any threats of what he’d do next time. You rolled your hips to ride his hand. In place of a slap, Miguel slid another finger slid in beside the first to stretch your walls open. He faltered at your next words and slid his fingers free.
“Not like… not like I need you.” 
“Who decides that?” he pressed on your upper back to force it down. You complied. Miguel stumbled forward, finally pressing his thick head to your pulsing entrance. His round head pressed, just barely, into your wet hole. You clenched down, inviting him into your warmth. You weren’t sure he’d actually give it to you. It was so damn close.
“You do, Miggy,” you murmured, pushing back. He watched as his shaft slowly disappeared into your body, your apprehension of retaliation rendered you too slow to finish.
Miguel snatched your waist and forced you to take the rest, a soppy squelch lubricating his shaft. The sound that slipped from your lips was entirely uncouth, punctuated by his unforgiving thrusts. Your walls strained around his cock. No matter how many times you took him, the drag of his cock and slap of balls against your body always felt somehow like the first. It filled that ache-- the consistent burning need to have him here, inside of your greedy body, scratching something that you could not itch all day. It’s what you wanted. 
“That’s right, I do.” Miguel rumbled, short, punctuated thrusts beating your clenching cunt into complacency. The pleasure ruptured through your cunt-- battering his dick in response. He let loose a sharp grunt followed by a string of curses. Your sweet release spilled over his dick and balls, dripping down your thighs. Your legs threatened to shook, but Miguel was unwilling to allow your trembling legs to give out.
"Ah! Miggy!" His fangs punctured your shoulder to force you to stay in position, his pelvis stuttering against yours. His growl punctuated the warm, soothing cum that soothed your walls like warm honey over a wound. Your walls milked him free of his cum, spasming in response to his orgasm. He pieced himself together against your back, pulling his fangs free and settling a soft kiss over the burning wound on your shoulder. As if he hadn't been the one to tear his fangs into the crook of your neck.
“You’re not letting go,” he hummed in annoyance. He turned his attention down to your ass, ghosting his fingers over the healing bruises over your backside. You squealed, jerking forward. He followed you forward, punching a hole in the floor by your side. “Fuck, don’t move!” 
You cast your attention back toward Miguel. He huffed forcefully out of his nostrils. He motioned toward your ass as if it were obvious-- your walls were clamped over his cock, unwilling or otherwise unable to let him go, as if he had any more cum to give in that current moment. You took it all.
“I. I didn't-- I can’t--” 
“Yeah, I know. That Bee venom does that. Mine should neutralize it.”
At some point, you murmured. It sure as hell wasn’t doing it now, keeping him seated into your cunt that bubbled with the mixture of his and your release. “You knew about it? I could have died!” 
Miguel chuckled. 
“You wouldn’t. You’re too stubborn to die,” he sighed, fiddling with his watch. The tests-- that you never had ran. Ones that he suggested. Ones that you refused quite openly. “Why would I deny myself the fun?” 
His cock slipped free. Your hips dropped and fell slack against the floor. You weren’t proud of the cum that oozed out of your ass over your decimated room, nor the fact that your useless neighbors hadn’t called for help once. Not that you needed it-- but still. You palpated your stomach, slightly distended. Miguel bent down and gathered the mixture of your bodily fluids on his fingers, suckling his own fingers dry. You watched his wet tongue swirl around his fingertips. It wasn't fair.
“Fun? What fun!? Do you know how long I-- You’re a mean man, Miguel O’Hara.” 
He lurched over, his breath tickling your lips. He kissed you, salty and sweet. Your nose scrunched up, pouting against his lips. He left the room for the kitchen, fetching a wet cloth to clean his body with. He zipped himself back into his suit shortly after and dropped the sodden cloth by the cum puddling under your ass.
“Never said I wasn’t.” 
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Aim for the Sky Part 13 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley contemplates just staying in Mexico with you forever. Vacations look good on him, and you seem happier than ever before. But a return to San Diego means the final countdown to the baby is on.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral sex, adult language
Length: 3400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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There were no alarms set for work, no meals to cook, and no interruptions of any kind. Other than the occasional text from Cam letting you know that Tramp was being the best boy imaginable, you were solely focused on your husband and your daughter.
"She's kicking up a storm," you said from your lounge chair on the beach, and Bradley almost fell out of his own seat where he'd been dozing off and on to get his hands on your belly.
"Where's my little Nugget?" he crooned as he knelt in the sand. You felt her do a somersault as he looked at you over his aviators, and his smile grew. "There she is. I swear she knows when I'm nearby, Baby Girl."
You ran your fingers through his wavy, sandy hair and down along his scarred cheek. "She absolutely does." He kissed your arm without moving his hands, and then he pressed a sassy kiss to your chest through your bathing suit. "Vacations look good on you, Roo. You look very relaxed."
The dark circles under his eyes were virtually gone after a few days in Mexico. He was still chasing you down with the blood pressure cuff several times a day, and he was constantly trying to get you to eat or drink something, but he was obviously feeling very good at the moment. 
"Yeah, well what do you expect when my wife lets me cum all over her tits as soon as I wake up? And then I get tacos and margaritas for breakfast? Honestly, I'm thinking maybe we could just stay here? Rose could grow up bilingual. I could fly some charter planes back and forth to the peninsula. You can lounge in your bathing suit and look pretty. What do you think?"
You were cackling as you reached for the tube of sunblock that you never let out of your sight when you were with him. "Let me think about it while I reapply." You sat up, and Bradley sat on your chair between your legs, and you smoothed the lotion all over his broad back and shoulders before continuing down his arms. "We did just finish the attic at home," you mused as you massaged his bicep. "But moving to Mexico does sound lovely."
Bradley grunted as you kissed the back of his head. "You're right. One of those rooms will be Rosie's someday. Can't let that shit go to waste. Gimme," he said, holding out his hand, and he had you sit on his lap while he put more sunblock on you as well. You bit back a moan as his hands smoothed down your back to the top of your bikini bottoms, and his fingers dipped deliciously into the fabric.
"Do you ever think about how you put sunscreen on me at the cliffs beach? The day we had our first kiss?"
"All the time," he replied easily, rubbing circles along your shoulders. "Best day of my life up to that point. But don't forget, we didn't kiss, Sweetheart. You kissed me. And then I reciprocated with enthusiasm."
You looked out at the water and smiled. "You were pretty enthusiastic. And you were so sweet and sexy. How was I supposed to keep resisting you?"
"You weren't."
When you turned to face him, he was smiling, and you put a dollop of sunscreen on his nose. "Vacations really do look good on you."
He shrugged and leaned back in what used to be your seat. "Well, you would know better than anyone else. I never really took them before you." He coaxed you back so you were curled up in his arms, and he ran his thumb reverently along the valley between your breasts. "Can't wait to go somewhere with both of my girls. Maybe Disneyland? Rose can get one of those fancy princess dresses."
You moaned at his touch and his voice. "You're going to spoil our child rotten, aren't you?"
"Haven't I already made that abundantly clear?" he asked with a laugh. "Nothing's too good for the Nugget."
"You're as bad as my parents," you muttered, letting your eyes drift closed. 
"Okay, they might actually be worse than me."
"It's a tie," you whispered as you fell asleep.
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"I don't want to go home tomorrow," you complained with a little pout. 
You looked like an absolute goddess at the moment, and Bradley wished the two of you could stay in Mexico longer. He watched you get dressed from the bed where he was lounging in his shorts and tropical print shirt. His stomach was growling loudly for dinner, but he was very distracted by how you looked as you pulled your dress over your head.
"Jesus," he groaned as you wiggled it over your bump and down your hips. "Could that thing be any tighter?"
"It's a bodycon dress, so no, probably not."
He had no idea what a bodycon dress was, but he really liked this one. "Fits you like a damn glove," he muttered. He could even see your nipples peaked against the fabric, and he started to sit up in bed.
"That's the idea. It's stretchy and comfortable, which is good, because my belly feels tender today," you said as you smoothed the dress over your body.
Everything was exciting to Bradley. You looked smoking hot. And a tender belly was just a reminder that the baby would be here soon. And he was about to eat more tacos and give you a little surprise after dinner. He just kept winning.
When you slipped your feet into your high heels, Bradley jumped up from the bed. "I don't want you walking around in those unless you're holding my hand."
"Why not?" you asked, looking at him with concern.
"I don't want you to trip. No more falls. And we're not going to dinner until I check your blood pressure."
He led you to the edge of the bed, got you seated, and kissed your belly before going to retrieve the blood pressure cuff. With a sigh, you held out your arm and said, "I've been eating and drinking plenty, Bradley. And getting some sun has been really good, too."
He grunted and got you all set up. "Maybe I just want to be sure my girls are alright. It's February now, Sweetheart. The Nugget will be here next month, and the last thing I want is for you to have to go back to the hospital any earlier than is completely necessary. But if your blood pressure isn't holding up, we need to know about it right away."
You reached for his face as he knelt in front of you, and he looked up to meet your eyes. "Rosie is the luckiest baby in the world. And you're already such a DILF. The gray hairs are definitely helping with that."
Bradley ducked his head in embarrassment. "Your blood pressure is normal. You ready for dinner?"
You moaned as he helped you back to your feet, and you let him hold your hand the whole way to the restaurant. "I need more tacos drenched in hot sauce," you said.
"I can make you tacos when we get home, and we can use the hot sauce you made," he promised.
"Oh," you gasped, wrapping your arms around him as he gave his name to the host. "I almost forgot you can cook things now."
He wasn't about to remind you that he was going to have to follow up with your mom again to be sure he remembered how to brown the ground beef. Not when you had that hazy eyed look on your face with your tits practically exploding out of your dress. He was suddenly so horny, he was considering skipping dinner, but he needed you to eat. He needed you to have energy for later.
As the host called out Bradshaw, Bradley leaned down to kiss your ear. "I need you to stop looking at me like that. At least until after dinner," he whispered. But you had been correct when you said that this vacation was doing something good for him. He felt incredible. The hotel room was comfortable, and you'd been wearing him out just enough that he was getting some solid sleep and waking up very refreshed. 
"Literally as soon as we get back to the room later, I want your pants off," you informed him in your bossiest voice. You didn't care who heard, because a second later, you were accepting a menu from the waiter with a smile.
------------------------
Your belly was full of tacos, and you just watched your husband eat roughly his body weight in seafood, but he still looked sexy. He always looked sexy. Maybe it was your hormones, or maybe you were high on quality hot sauce. Or perhaps you were just hopelessly in love with him. But when he paid the bill for dinner and tucked his wallet back into the pocket of his snug shorts, you wanted nothing more than to fuck him. 
"The moon looks pretty," he mused as you left the restaurant hand in hand. "Let's walk down to the water."
"But it's pitch black outside," you told him when you realized there was barely even a crescent moon visible.
"Humor me," he said with a little laugh. You didn't argue when he started to tug you in the direction of the beach while he played with your rings. Before you got to the sand, Bradley knelt down to help you out of your shoes, and then he carried them for you. The soft sound of the waves mingled with music playing further up the beach. The pitch of the guitar was pretty, and the closer you got to it, the more familiar the song sounded. 
"Hey," you said as your steps slowed to a stop. "It's our wedding song. They're playing Everything!"
You could hear Bradley in the darkness more than you could see him, and his voice made you shiver. "It sure is. Nothing's too good for you."
Your lips parted in surprise. "How did you get them to play it?" Just then, the song changed to a slower guitar rendition of Roses by Outkast, and you bounced on your feet in excitement. "Bradley!"
"Sweetheart!"
"How did you do this?" you asked again as your cheek settled against his chest.
"I asked very nicely."
You laughed, because that was such a typical answer from him. If he wanted something badly enough, he'd go to the ends of the Earth for it, but he could usually get his way just by asking. 
"Do we have to go home tomorrow?" you whispered as he wrapped his big hands around your biceps, keeping you warm against the chill of the night air. "This is more fun than going to work."
He kissed the top of your head and said, "Spending time with you in any capacity is more fun than going to work, but we do need paychecks so I can spoil our kid."
You buried your face against him as you laughed. "It's all about Rosie."
"No," he corrected, giving your arms a little squeeze. "It's all about you and me and Rosie. Us against the world. A new era for the Bradshaws."
His words made you warm inside. "We're officially out of the honeymoon phase and in the baby phase."
"Well," he rasped, "I don't think we'll ever be completely out of the honeymoon phase, Baby Girl. Let's be real here." His hand slid down your backside over the tight fabric of your dress. "Not when you wear shit like this with your magic tits."
"You wanna see them?" you asked.
An hour later, you were in bed, sweating and whining Bradley's name. Your dress was pulled up above your hips and also down below your breasts, and he was absolutely worshipping you. You could feel the fabric of his discarded shirt and shorts next to you as you tried to wrap your fingers in the bedding to keep you grounded, but it was no use.
"Roo," you gasped, letting yourself get completely lost in the feel of his mouth on your pussy. He had one big hand splayed on your belly like he was protecting both of you, but his other hand was keeping your thighs spread wide for him. The wet sounds were delicious as he ran his nose over your clit.
"You've got the prettiest pussy," he crooned. "So fucking tight." His tongue slipped down until it dipped inside you, and he groaned as he sucked before pulling his lips free. "My god, you're perfect."
Your thighs were shaking slightly, and it kind of hurt to arch your back. All you could do was whine and hold onto whatever you could reach as you sucked in shallow breaths. You needed to come, badly. But he kept you right there on the brink as if he was trying to decide exactly how to finish you off.
"Roo," you whined.
"I know," he replied softly. "Me too." You were convinced he could read your mind by the way he shoved his cock inside you a minute later. It was such a different sensation, and then his mouth was on your breasts as he fucked you. His voice was aggressive as he whispered, "Your nipples are fucking delicious right now. I can't get enough."
If you weren't already pregnant, you were convinced you would have been tonight. He toyed with your breasts, rough hands and mustache everywhere. You were sore and tender, and he made everything feel better and also more pronounced at the same time. Your orgasm was building now, and while part of you wanted to crawl away, the rest of you couldn't get enough of him.
"Fuck," he grunted, his hard abs pressing against your belly as he buried his face to your chest. "Come on. Come for me!"
He pressed himself against your clit as he fucked you hard enough that your breasts were bouncing, and you closed your eyes as you finally clenched around his cock. The relief was immediate, and you let the needy sound of his orgasm wash over you.
Sticky cum coated up your thighs as he sprawled out next to you, his chest rising and falling rapidly from exertion. "You'll be the death of me, I swear," he muttered, eyes closed while you worked your dress up and over your head. He cracked one eye open and peeked at you. "Let's go skinny dipping."
You laughed as he helped you down into the private plunge pool a few minutes later. It was late, but you knew the two of you would have hours to nap on the flight home, so you let him hold you and talk to Rose. You let him tell you for the millionth time how excited he was while you could barely make out his face in the moonlight.
-----------------------------
Bradley jerked awake as the plane touched down with a bumpy landing in San Diego. "Pilot must be retired Navy," he muttered to himself as you woke up next to him with a little pout on your face. The sky outside looked dark and cloudy for southern California, and he already knew what you were going to say.
"I don't want to go to work tomorrow. I want to eat tacos."
"I'll make tacos for dinner if you're well behaved," he promised as he turned his phone on again. A flood of texts from Nat came through just as it started storming outside. He scrolled through them and said, "Nat wants to know what you're doing on February fourteenth."
You stretched your arms over your head and gave him a funny look. "I don't know, Roo. You tell me. That's Valentine's Day."
"Oh," he replied. "Right." It wasn't like that day was particularly important to him. Other than the fact that he liked the color red, he could do without all of the chalky candy hearts and overpriced cards. The date never stuck in his mind like your birthday and November 28th did. That was the most romantic day of the year for him. His wedding anniversary was more important than pretty much anything else. "Well, how do you feel about having a baby shower on Valentine's Day?"
"A baby shower?" you gasped, a bright smile breaking out on your face. "I get to have a baby shower?"
"My god, you're adorable. Yes, you get to have a baby shower. I know your mom said she and your dad would rather wait until the Nugget is born to come out and help, so Nat is planning it."
You burst into tears, and Bradley's eyes went wide as rain pelted the airplane window as it taxied along. "What's wrong, Baby Girl?" 
He was already reaching for your belly as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of his tee shirt. "Nothing's wrong," you sobbed. "That's just so nice of Phoenix to do that. Especially since she's really your friend."
Bradley kissed your forehead and swiped away your tears. "She's a lot more likely to do something nice for you than for me, and you know it, Sweetheart." Now you were laughing as you cried. "And keep in mind that you'll have to deal with Jake and Javy and all the guys being there. So is it really all that nice? It'll honestly probably be a shitstorm."
You nodded. "But it'll be our baby shower shitstorm."
"You're the only person I want to share a shitstorm with," he promised, helping you to your feet as the plane finally stopped at the gate. "Pretty soon we'll have literal diaper shitstorms, too."
You giggled as you wiped at your remaining tears while he reached down the carry-on bag. "You need to stop saying shitstorms."
He shook his head and reached for your hand. "I can't. I got started, and now I just can't."
It was nice to arrive at San Diego International and have you by his side for once instead of waiting at baggage claim. You and he walked slowly through the airport while you counted up how many times he could use shitstorm correctly in a sentence, and then Bradley drove home where Tramp was waiting.
"I heard you were a good boy," you crooned, scratching him behind the ear while Bradley made you a snack of hot sauce and carrot sticks. When you turned to him and asked, "Can you look at your calendar? We have a lot to do in the next few weeks."
He knew you meant the calendar on his phone, but he just smiled and said, "Absolutely," before heading out the back door toward the garage. He grabbed the dirty calendar you made for his birthday last year and brought it back inside where you were casually dipping a carrot into the hot sauce.
"Seriously?" you asked with a laugh when he held it up.
"This is the only calendar I use," he said, turning the page to February where the photo of you smiled back at him, mostly naked. "Holy shit. Six weeks until Rosie!"
"That's what I'm saying!" You had your hand resting on your bump while you poked at your phone calendar. Tramp was begging for a snack while you crunched on your carrot, and Bradley had the urge to go sit quietly in the nursery for a while. Every time he thought about his daughter, he got more excited, and it just made sense that she would be here soon.
"We've got a baby shower, maternity photos and last minute shopping to do," you muttered. "We should probably go to Costco soon."
"You get horny at Costco," he replied. "Block off a whole day for that. And block off a whole day for you and me to snuggle on the soft rug in the nursery. And block off another day for me to organize all of the cute board books on Rosie's shelf. I want everything to be perfect."
"It will be."
---------------------------------
Roo is a sunny golden retriever husband even on a rainy day. They are well rested just in time for the baby shower and the Nugget's arrival. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 14
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springseasonie · 1 year
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the walls are thin | NJM + LJN (M)
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Roommate Jeno x fem reader x Roommate Jaemin
Summary: both Jaemin and Jeno have always had a thing for you and were never shy about it either. You always play hard to get, but all of your playing was going to catch up with you sooner or later.
Warnings: sexual content, dubcon themes, porn with little plot, horrifically Jaemin biased (it just happened that way), unprotected sex, kitchen sex, oral (male and fem receiving), degrading, praising, voyeurism, exhibitionism (if you squint), snowballing, mean dom jeno, soft dom Jaemin, literally just filth, proofread but may still contain errors
Word count: 7,4k
A/N: I had a completely different idea for this pairing, but I didn't like here it was going so I completely scrapped it and came up with this. Hope y'all like it it's my first time writing a 3some dynamic so be patient with me lol. Also I wanna try a new picture situation for fics soooo yeah idk if I'll be doing it for long. Probably just for multiple members fics. Pics aren't mine. Feedback is welcomed as always this was long overdue I was supposed to post this days ago
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The walls are pretty thin in your apartment, which is why you're so grateful when everyone is gone. You can't escape the constant sounds of your roommates laughing, talking, doing God knows what. You enjoy the peace and quiet, especially at night. The only drawback is that there is virtually no privacy.
You can't count the amount of times both Jeno and Jaemin asked you about conversations you had with people on the phone the night before. It always left you a bit shocked and freaked out. They never told you how much they heard or knew, just that they heard you. And on mornings like this - ones where you wake up groggy from getting yourself off - they never skip a beat to tell you they heard you.
"You're really loud at night you know," Jaemin said, pouring milk in his cereal.
"What are you talking about?" You yawned, covering your mouth with your hand. It's a Saturday, which means you have nothing but time to spare.
"When you're touching yourself. You should do a better job at keeping quiet," Jeno answered as he walked into the kitchen.
"Why were you listening?" Your tone was monotonous, still trying to fully wake up from your sleep. Nothing they said had any impact on you anymore. Their non-stop flirting and crude comments don't make you cringe and squirm like they used to, completely used to whatever games they were constantly trying to play.
"I didn't have a choice," Jaemin said, mouth full of cereal.
"We always have choices in life." You leaned on the edge of the counter, crossing your arms. Jeno brushed his hair back, biceps bulging in his right long sleeve top. It was no secret that even though you kept turning them down, they were eye candy. When you told your friends about them, they wondered how you were going to live with 2 men that looked like they were meant to be male strippers.
It's easy for you, really. Just get to know them. Getting to know people always helps get rid of the initial attraction, and they definitely made it easy. Except it came back 10 times stronger. And you really didn't mean for it to happen really, it just happened, and you're annoyed that it happened. But is it really your fault?
"Just how you made a choice to come out completely naked," Jeno questioned, looking you up and down.
"I'm wearing a tank top and shorts. Be serious." You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter. You turned around, reaching up to get a bowl only to be pressed against the counter again
"Let me help you out," Jeno said in your ear. He pressed himself against you, pushing his bulge into your ass. Jeno grabbed the bowl out of your hand, setting it down in front of you with the sweetest smile. "And I meant in other ways that don't involve getting bowls from cabinets."
Jeno backed away from you, and for the first time you can confidently say you didn't want him to move. But he'll never know that. Neither of them will ever know the effect they have on you for as long as you're in the same household. But sometimes you really wonder if it's worth it, not letting them touch you in the ways you want. Not letting them do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. It didn't really matter anyways, they're just 2 people out of the 8 billion on the planet.
"You are so spoiled you know that."
You jump, surprised at the sound of Jaemin's voice near your ear. You forgot he was still in the kitchen being lost in thought about Jeno's body pressed against yours. "What do you mean by that?"
"You have 2 guys constantly trying to fuck you, and you keep refusing," he says, chuckling softly. "It's honestly annoying."
You rolled your eyes pouring cereal in your bowl. "Then stop. I keep refusing and you keep coming back."
"But I like the chase."
You turned around, immediately being faced with Jaemin's eyes being directly on your tits. His gaze made you feel small sometimes, always looking at you like you were a piece of meat. But you liked the way he looked at you. They way his gaze would linger, never shy to tell you exactly what he wanted with no words.
"All men like chasing," you replied, pouring the milk in your bowl.
"Not as much as me. When I catch you, you'll be wishing I didn't," he mumbled.
"You're funny."
"I've been told. And I tend to laugh women right out of their clothes." His witty responses never fail to amaze you. He always had a response for everything, never speechless although sometimes you wish he was.
You turned around, leaning on the counter as you shoved a spoon full of cereal in your mouth. "You know," you started, "sometimes I wish the 2 of you were man enough to do something."
Jaemin raised his brow, crossing his arms. "Is that some kind of challenge?"
"No, just a thought. I'm going to my room." You walked out the kitchen and down the tiny hallway, already hearing Jeno's music through the walls. You wish you weren't so evil, but there would be no fun in your life. Because as much as you tell them to stop, you just want them to keep telling you over and over again how much they want it, how much they need you.
"If you ever need help, remember I'm next door," Jaemin called out behind you.
"Never gonna happen."
-
"Fuck, come on!"
You've been playing video games since your conversation with Jaemin ended, and honestly you wish you hadn't even started. You've been doing nothing but yelling at your screen and pounding your desk. And you just so happened to get knocked out again.
"I can't take this shit anymore," you groaned, cradling your head in your arms. Just as you were about to throw your headset off, you heard a knock on your door. "Come in."
Jaemin walked in, face puffy like he just woke up from a nap. But you couldn't even keep looking at his face, not when he was wearing that one shirt that made him look bigger than he already was. And- oh. He wasn't wearing anything under his basketball shorts, was he?
"You're too loud." His voice was deep and groggy, the sound of it going straight to your core.
"Sorry. This game is just-"
"Annoying? I've heard you say that millions of times already. Just stop playing it." Jaemin leaned on your door frame, shaking his hair from his face. It was taking everything in you to not say what you wanted to. He's attractive and he knows it. He knows what he does to you and it drives you insane. "Just keep it down okay?" Jaemin turns on his heels, walking out of your room, door knob in his hand.
"I'll try. You know how I get when I'm stressed."
Stressed. That was all he heard. "You're stressed?"
"Yeah, just a little," you admit.
"Let me help you," he said, coming back into your room.
You turned around in your chair, raising your brow at his statement. "And how would you do that?"
Jaemin walked up to you, looking down at you with sleepy and lustful eyes. Silence filling the space between you. He needed you, even when he felt like he was gonna pass out. And he would take any chance to get you, only if you would let him. "Let me give you the best head in your life."
The request shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did, but the slight twitch of your right leg whenever you were turned on would always betray you. You scanned his face, eyes moving down his body. "Are you hard?"
"Yeah," he answered honestly. "But you don't have to do anything. I promise."
"I wasn't planning on it," you answered, turning around.
"You still didn't answer my question."
"You didn't ask me a question."
"Can I please eat you out," Jaemin repeated as if he was sounding out a word. You could hear the smile in his voice, knowing that if you turned back around, he would be looking at you with that shit eating grin he always does to get his way.
"I doubt you could find the clit, let alone make me cum."
Jaemin snickered at your statement, turning your chair around to face him. "Wanna bet?"
"I'm not letting you anywhere near her, especially not when Jeno's in the other room," you deny.
"Jeno would sleep through a war if he could. I think we'll be okay."
Jaemin smiled to himself watching you turn your chair back around to face your monitor.
"You know that's a lie, and I said what I said." You felt a small piece of you die inside when Jaemin crawled under your desk, face directly in between your legs. He couldn't help himself, and he knew there would only be so many times you pushed him away. But you're so predictable, it's almost funny. You love his sleepy voice and his puffy face, and the only reason he knows this is because you can't speak quietly on the phone.
He would listen to your conversations, listen to the way you talked about him, the things you said about him to your friends. He knows you're two faced, telling him one thing and saying another to other people. Jaemin doesn't know if it's a mistake, especially because you out of all people know how thin the walls are, but he doesn't care.
Jaemin pushed your legs open, half lidded eyes staring at your clothed cunt. "I swear you wore these just to provoke me," he mumbled.
"J-Jaemin wait.." you were completely overwhelmed, a little taken back with how fast things were moving. But the way his hands traveled from your legs to your ass was almost enough to make you forget the kind of game you were playing with him.
Jaemin pulled you closer to him, hands gripping you as he buried his face between your legs. "God, you smell so fucking good," he said, inhaling deeply. "I bet you taste even better."
At this point, you were sure Jeno could hear every word coming out his mouth. It shouldn't have turned you on so much, but it did. Was he listening? Is he jealous, mad it's Jaemin who got to you first? Was he touching himself to the thought of you? You wanted to see. You wanted to hear him. You wanted-
"Stop thinking about him." He practically growled.
You gulped, brows shooting to your forehead. "W-what?"
"I know you're wondering if he's really sleeping, if he can hear you." Jaemin's nose nudged on your clothed bud making you gasp softly. "You don't have to wonder. These walls are paper thin."
You didn't protest when he pulled your shorts and panties to your ankles, brian too preoccupied with the fact that you were about to get eaten out after a long time. But even in these circumstances, you couldn't pause your shit talking. "Still don't think you can make me cum."
Jaemin let out a soft chuckle. He didn't answer you or say anything, just pulled you to the edge of your seat and attached his mouth to your core like a moth to a flame. His tongue moved slowly at first, lapping at all your arousal. His nose nudged against your clit, making you shudder as you let out a soft sigh. But you can't give him the satisfaction yet, so you hold it back. You don't look down at him, you do anything to distract yourself from the man between your legs.
Jaemin doesn't care about your attempts to ignore him, all he cares about is proving you wrong like he always does. His thumbs massage the insides of your thighs as he grips your legs tight savoring every feel of the soft flesh. The speed of Jaemin’s tongue quickened as his eyes trailed up your body, his nose continuously nudging your clit. He can hear how much you're trying to stifle your moans not wanting him to know how much you like it.
"Let me hear you."
You kept your mouth closed, biting your lip hard as he continued licking at you. But when he directed his attention to your clit, a reluctant whine escaped your lips. You could feel Jaemin smile against your skin, knowing that you already lost the game you were trying so hard to win. You peeked under your desk for a millisecond only to make direct eye contact with him as he sucked your clit softly. He sucked harder, making you roll your eyes back at the sudden sensation.
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
You still didn't answer, closing your eyes to avoid meeting his own. Jaemin flicked his tongue against you faster than before. You were way too sensitive at this point, every movement he made pulling you closer and closer to an orgasm. But you couldn't cum just yet, not when that was the only thing you were fighting to not do. But god, it just felt so good, too good.
"If you're gonna ignore me, I'm gonna stop," he said.
"N-no." That was the first thing you said in a while. You couldn't believe it, but you needed him to keep going. You wanted him to keep going. Haven't felt the touch of a man in months, this felt like heaven.
"Then say it," he said.
"Say what?"
"What do you want me to do?
"Keep..eating me out.. obviously."
Jaemin chuckled, running his fingertips along your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I'm already doing that. Tell me what you want me to do Y/N."
His tone was softer, less demanding than before. And now you knew what he was getting at. You knew what he wanted you to say, but you didn't want to give into him too easily. But you needed this so bad. "Make me cum," you answer quietly, voice trembling slightly.
"Say that again. I don't think Jeno heard you clear enough," he teased. You shook your head, refusing to speak. He placed a kiss on your clit, laughing softly when you let out a small sigh. "Are you a good girl?"
Reluctantly, you nodded your head, heat rushing to your face.
"Then say it again."
"Make me cum."
"Of course. Anything for you." Jaemin went at you like a starved man, licking and sucking and kissing every part of you, not leaving a single area untouched. You couldn't force yourself to stay quiet, not when only his tongue was working such wonders on you. Your hands naturally made their way to his hair, pushing it back to see his face better. Jaemin's eyes stared right into yours, eyes blown with lust.
"J-Jaemin," you whimpered softly as he flicked his tongue fast on your sensitive bud. He moaned, licking and slurping up your arousal while pulling your body closer to his. At this point, your hips were starting to fall off the edge of the seat. "I-I'm gonna fall, Jaemin."
Jaemin swiftly adjusted you on your seat, mouth never leaving you. He looked up at you, lids low. The sounds filing the room were sinful, the slurping sounds coupled with both of your moans making your head spin. Your hands tugged at his hair softly at every movement of his tongue.
"I bet you need something in you, don't you?" Jaemin's voice went from your ears right to your cunt. He smiled to himself watching you squeeze around nothing, desperate for anything. "How do my fingers sound?"
"Good Jaemin, fuck," you sighed, almost a little too quickly.
"Someone's a little excited," he laughed. "A little too excited for someone who told me I couldn't make her cum."
Jaemin lined two fingers up, pushing them into you slowly. You could almost cry at the feeling, so sensitive anything could send you over the edge. "M-more," you begged.
Jaemin raised a brow, wicked smile on his lips. "You want another one?"
"Please.."
Jaemin added a third finger, pumping them slowly. Sometimes, he's grateful that he loves giving pleasure, especially because of moments like this. You were so pretty above him, moaning out his name and practically melting in front of him. Your hard, stubborn exterior practically shattered as soon as he put his hands on you. It's funny how fast he got you to beg for him even though he knew how bad you wanted it already.
Jaemin licked at your clit while pumping his fingers inside you with a mission, a look of pure bliss spread over your face. "You're so pretty," he breathed out. "I always thought you were pretty."
You couldn't say anything, especially not when he started to finger you faster and his tongue slowed, arousal leaking all over your gaming chair. Your moans and whimpers started to grow in volume. There was no way you could stay quiet enough for Jeno not to hear now. Jaemin sucked your clit hard, making you groan loudly, tugging at his hair. "Jaemin you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.
"I thought I couldn't." He pumped his fingers in and out quicker, grinning as you came closer and closer. "Maybe I should stop."
"J-Jaemin do not f-fuckin stop." You're brows knit, breath increasing every time he pumped his fingers in and out of you. A tight ball formed in your stomach, muscles beginning to tense under his touch. Jaemin gave your clit one hard lick, making you fall apart instantly. You came on his fingers, clenching on them tightly as you let out a shaky moan.
"That's it, let it out," he cooed. "You did so well for me Y/N."
Jaemin took his fingers out of you, sucking them while staring into your eyes. Your hazy expression was making him go crazy, and he knew he shouldn't keep going but he really couldn't help himself.
Jaemin threw your legs over his shoulders, latching his arms over them before you could move away. "This will be quick okay."
You whined when his tongue came in contact with you again, wiggling its way in your core. Jaemin moaned softly, tasting your cum on his tongue. Your weak pushes at his head were cute, so cute that he had to keep going.
"Jaemin please," you whined,"I..I can't.."
He kept staring at you, not intending to move away or stop. "Be a good girl and cum for me." His tongue was attacking your clit at this point, moving over the bud too fast for you to keep up. Jaemin's grip was so strong you couldn't even squirm away from the chair if you wanted to. He sucked hard, the feeling shooting through your body making your hands and legs weak.
Your body trembled when you came again, soft cries of curses spilling from your lips. And Jaemin still didn't stop. He licked up every single drop, not wanting to waste a bit. He didn't know when you were going to let him do this again even though he knew you would come back to him eventually. At this point, he was pretty sure he was addicted to the taste of you, scent of you, just you.
Jaemin finally loosened the grip on your legs, letting them fall off his shoulders. The both of you were breathing heavily since the adrenaline was still rushing. He didn't say anything and neither did you even when he came from under the table. Jaemin stood up, large figure looking over you as you tried to catch your breath.
"I'm going in my room," he said,"I'll..see you later."
You let him leave, not saying a word as you slumped in your seat. You were never going to live this moment down, letting him go down on you like that. And practically control you. And now that he's away, you're going to have to be tortured with hearing him touch himself in the next room over.
But all you could really say at the moment was that it in fact was the best head of your life.
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It'd been 3 days since Jaemin completely overpowered you, beating you at your own game. And being forced to watch him go on with his day like nothing happened was driving you crazy, especially when he kept dropping little references of the events.
What's even worse is Jeno pretending he didn't hear anything. Pretending you weren't practically screaming Jaemin's name 3 days ago. But he did keep staring at you and you couldn't tell what he was thinking. You never could. Jeno was always good at hiding it until he wanted you to know.
And now you're alone in your apartment with him while Jaemin is at work for the night. The last thing you wanted to be was alone with Jeno, especially when he was in a bad mood like now.
You walked into the kitchen wanting to get something to eat without disturbance, but Jeno was already there. You looked at him, body leaning against the counter with his head in his hand. You and Jeno hadn't really had an actual conversation in 3 days. You were a bit afraid of him saying something that would remind you of the sinful things that took place in your room.
You walked past him, not really paying him any mind, but you could still feel his eyes on your back. And just as you were about to reach into the cabinet, he said something you were definitely not expecting.
"You're such a bitch."
You turned around, brow raised so high it could probably hit the roof. "I'm a what now?"
"You're a bitch," he repeated. Jeno looked at you with a straight face. There was nothing in his body language that suggested that he was doing this to mess with you. He was dead serious.
You squint your eyes, scoffing at his words. "Don't call me a bitch."
Jeno gave you a dry laugh, taking his hand from his face. "You don't think it's bitchy to have sex with your roommate when your other roommate was in the other room?"
"Are you mad it wasn't you," you snapped. You watched as Jeno lifted his body off the counter and walked to you slowly. He placed his arm beside your body, leaning close over yours, a dark smirk written across his face.
"I'm just surprised you gave into him so easily seeing that you deny me all the time." He couldn't keep eye contact with you, especially not when you were in the kitchen in nothing but leggings and that goddamn tank top. The white one you constantly wore with nothing underneath. You knew exactly what you were doing, and that's something Jeno always found attractive about you.
"My eyes are up here," you said, lifting his chin to look at you.
Jeno clicked his tongue annoyed. "You always try to put on this tough act, and it's really annoying."
"Can't be as annoying as this conversation."
"Then walk away, unless you wanna keep having this conversation," he said. You hesitated to move, making Jeno laugh. He pulled you back, pushing you on the counter.
"I was walking away," you said, trying to sound completely unphased when you were completely turned on by it.
"You just love playing hard to get, don't you," he mumbled, leaning into your neck. "You love it when we chase. Don't lie." You didn't speak, you just let him kiss your neck softly. He pressed his body against yours, parting your legs with his knee. Jeno wraps a hand around your neck, chuckling softly when your breath hitches. "I can't believe I was letting you walk around here like this without touching you," he mumbled.
Jenos other hand made its way to your ass, groping you roughly. He watched your face, taking in the slight pleasure you felt being at his mercy. Jeno tightened the hold on your neck slightly, earning a soft gasp from you.
"If you're gonna do something, do it," you grumbled.
"What if I wanna take my time with you hm? I bet you'd like that. I mean, you did 3 days ago," he teased. Jeno moved his hand from your ass to between your legs, rubbing you through your leggings. His brow arched at the sticky wet sensation covering his fingers through the fabric. "You aren't even wearing panties. It's like you came in here with the intention of me fucking you."
With one quick movement, Jeno's hand was in your leggings, rubbing you in circles slowly. "It's just funny that you're so quiet now. Make all those pretty noises you made for pretty boy." Jeno pressed his fingers harder into you. He watched as you began to lose yourself with that sweet sinister smile of his. You didn't stop him when he pulled your tank top up, immediately groping your left breast. "God I love these pretty tits."
Your panting was only getting faster, his hand on your clit rubbing you faster while fondling your breast, you could barely hear anything he was saying. You were gonna cum quick, all you needed was a little more and-
"I think I'll stop here. You seem to be enjoying yourself too much."
It's embarrassing how fast you stopped him from pulling his hand out your pants, forcing it back down to where it was before. "Jeno, please don't play around," you pleaded.
He snickered at your pleading, fingers immediately making their way back between your legs. Jeno slowly pushed two inside you, a shaky moan leaving your mouth. He pumped his fingers in you, kissing your lips softly. Having no idea what to do with your hands, you held onto his arms, biceps flexing in your hands. "Jeno," you moaned softly.
"You liked that hm," he said in your ear. "You like it when I touch you like this?"
"Y-yeah."
He fingered you faster, the palm of his hand stimulating your clit at the same time. You held onto his arms tighter, closing your eyes as you let your head fall on his shoulder. The moans and whimpers fell through your lips so easily under his touch. Between his hand on your chest and the one in your pants you could barely concentrate on your surroundings.
So when Jaemin suddenly opened the door when he was supposed to get home three hours from now, startled couldn't even begin to describe how you felt. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at your panicked face. Jeno kept going, not giving a single fuck of who just came in the apartment. But even though you were startled, no matter how compromising the position you were in was, it still managed to turn you on even more.
"Jesus, you're a slut aren't you," Jeno teased. "You love the fact that he came in here unannounced with my fingers in your pussy?"
You shook your head, burying your face in his neck. "S-shut up."
"Are we gonna do this now," Jaemin asked, finally breaking his silence.
You looked over at him, confusion and pleasure on your face. "Do what?"
"I guess we can. But I need her to cum first." Jeno and Jaemin were talking like you weren't even there, saying things you didn't even understand. But every time you thought to ask questions, a moan left your lips, making you squeeze his arm again. "Cum Y/N," he said in your ear lowly. "Cum for me."
Your legs are weak, the only thing holding your body up is Jeno's hand under you. He moves his hand faster, palm rubbing your clit harder. "S-shit.." You came hard, grasping his biceps for dear life before you fell into Jeno’s shoulder.
"I'll never get enough of that face," Jaemin mumbled, teeth toying with his lip as he watched you.
Jeno pulled his hand from your leggings, sticking his fingers in your mouth almost immediately. "Suck."
And you did, swirling your tongue around the digits like you were gonna get a grade for it. Jeno watched you, his usual smirk spreading on his face.
"Fuck, I can't watch this anymore." Jaemin walked over to both of you. Jeno moved out of the way, letting Jaemin pick you up and throw your body over his shoulder.
"Wait, what are you guys doing," you panic.
"Don't play dumb you know exactly what's going on," Jeno answered. They walked to your room, practically kicking the door open. You let out a tiny scream when Jaemin dropped you on your bed with no warning, looking at them completely lost.
"You're so cute, like a lost puppy," Jaemin said. He took his hoodie off, having nothing underneath it. Jeno made quick work of his own shirt, throwing it elsewhere in the room. "Are you gonna be good for us?"
"I-I.." you were in complete shock. This was something you fantasized about for way too long, touching yourself to the thought of both of them taking care of you at the same time. You craved it way more than they would ever know. But everything was happening way too fast. So when Jaemin pushed you down on bed, pulling your leggings off, it was like whiplash. Jeno took your tank off quickly, throwing it in a random place.
Jaemin sat himself behind you, leaning on your head board as he pulled your body to him. Your back was pressed against his chest as he wrapped his big arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. He kissed your neck slowly while Jeno laid between your legs, mouth already attaching to your core.
You let out a small gasp as the feeling of Jeno’s mouth and the feeling of Jaemin's hands on your chest clouded your senses. Jeno ate you out like it was his last meal ever, not giving you enough time to recover from the prior activities in the kitchen. His tongue ravaged you, moans and groans sending vibrations to your clit like crazy. And Jaemin's constant kissing and humming against your skin was not making it better.
"You know I'm kind of a pervert," Jaemin whispered, a small smile on his lips. You were leaning on him, your head falling back on to his shoulder as Jeno worked his tongue on you. Jaemin stared down at the sight between your legs, eyelids getting heavy with lust watching the show in front of him. "I like to watch."
His fingers tweaked and pinched at your nipples, unholy noises spilling from your lips easily. He was growing harder and harder, his bulge rubbing on your ass. "Doesn't it feel good," he whispered in your ear. His soft voice sent butterflies to your stomach, a trembling breath unintentionally making its way out.
"Y-yeah."
"Tell him it feels good." Jaemin rolled your nipples in his fingers making you grip your blanket.
"I-it feels good Jeno," you moaned softly.
"Good girl. You're always so good for me." Jeno hooked his arms around your legs, tugging your body a little lower. Jaemin snickered at your surprised expression, hands still working on your chest. "God you're so cute."
Jeno's tongue moved faster, groaning softly against you constantly. You bit your lip starting to grind on his tongue. Your constant moans filled the room, every single sense becoming heightened when you feel yourself starting to approach your orgasm.
Jaemin tilted your head to him, kissing you messily. His tongue invaded your mouth, dancing with yours as Jeno kept going. He knew you were close, he could tell by the way your breathing was picking up and your trembling hands on the blanket. "You're close, aren't you baby," he mumbled on your lips.
You nodded fast, brows knitting when Jeno sucked your clit hard. Jaemin watched your face as your eyes rolled back and body tense at the sensation.
"Look at me when you cum okay?"
"O-oh my god," you moaned loudly. Your hand shot up to his wrist, squeezing it tightly as your body tense up even more. You couldn’t stop yourself, grinding on Jeno's tongue even harder as you came.
"That's it baby, keep looking at me with those pretty eyes." Jaemin kissed you, biting your lip softly as you moaned into his mouth. His hands left your chest, rubbing them down your naked body.
Jeno stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You always knew he had the body of a Greek god but goodness, it didn't hit you hard until now. Jeno tugged his sweats and boxers off, letting his length spring free. He was big, bigger than you thought. You've felt him through his pants many times on the occasions that he slipped behind you or something. But Jesus, it's nothing like seeing the real thing.
"Face down, ass up," Jeno ordered.
Clumsily, you pulled your body out of Jaemin's arms and flipped yourself over. Trying to get yourself on your knees, you slipped, face falling directly into Jaemin's lap. Jaemin gave you a soft chuckle, hand patting your head as you fixed yourself.
"Where's your condoms," Jeno asked.
"Fuck all of that. I need you Jeno," you whined. You subconsciously wiggled your hips, begging for him to take you right there. You've never been so needy for something in your life, but he managed to bring it out of you.
"You need me?" His tone was condescending and mean, but he had that sweet smile on his face. "How bad do you need me?" He took his length, guiding it up and down your slit.
"Real bad," you breathed out, pushing more against him. "So bad, I could die right now."
"You always had a way with words," he mumbled. Jeno pushed his tip into you slowly, making you smile at the stretch. His brows furrowed as he pushed the rest of himself in you, feeling you squeeze tightly around him.
"Fuck you're so big," you whined softly.
Jeno rocked his hips into you, every movement making you moan softly. Your head was between Jaemin's lap as he watched the other male fuck you from behind. You looked up, feeling a small tap on your head. Jaemin was looking down at you with a smirk on his face.
"You didn't think I was gonna let you and Jeno have all the fun did you?"
Lifting yourself on your elbows, moans and whines falling from your mouth as you pull Jaemin out his sweats. He was just a s big as Jeno, and he knew it. The way he was looking down at you, he knew you would have a hard time. Little did he know you liked having a hard time.
"Spit on it."
His words made you clench around Jeno, making the man behind you groan softly. You did as you were told, letting a ball of saliva fall from your lips onto his tip.
"You listen so well," Jaemin praised.
You were so fucked out of your mind at this point, you wanted nothing but to be praised by him. You licked around his tip, looking up at him for his approval with begging eyes. You sunk your head down more, getting more of him into your mouth, sucking him softly. Your brows furrowed, moaning on his length as Jeno started to speed up his thrust. Jaemin could happily die right here, one of his biggest fantasies unraveling in a way he never imagined. And you were just so open to letting him use you, to letting Jeno use you.
His lids hung low, soft moans and pants leaving his lips as you bobbed your head following Jeno's rhythm. "We should've done this ages ago," Jaemin mumbled, fingers running through your hair. He grasped it hard, following your movements with his hand, but if you kept going, he was surely going to cum in your mouth. Jaemin pulled you off of him slowly, knitting his brows at the loss of your mouth. "You're way too good at that," he huffed out.
Jeno's low grunts mixed with your moans and whimpers made Jaemin grow harder and harder every second. Jeno pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.
"You love this don't you," Jeno breathed.
"Yeah." Your voice was shaky, about to break at any moment.
"All it took was my fingers to break you. God, you're a slut."
You needed more, and you couldn't take the sight of Jaemin sitting in front of you, hard length sitting there untouched. Jaemin's eyes shot to you as you took him in your mouth, immediately bobbing your head. "You really..must want me to cum in your mouth."
You pulled off of him, a string of spit connecting your mouth and his tip. "Y-yeah," you moaned. "Use me."
There was something in Jaemin's eyes that changed. Without a word he gasped as he pushed himself back into your mouth. You opened your mouth as far as you could letting him fuck your mouth like you were his own personal fleshlight. Your eyes were screwed shut, the impact of Jeno inside you and Jaemin constantly hitting the back of your throat sending you into a sensory overload. You were so sensitive, everything was starting to hurt, but it hurt so good.
You gagged, tears immediately gathering in your water line. Jaemin pulled you off him, breathing heavily seeing you caught and moaning at Jeno's movements. Spit was dribbling down your chin, but it's not like you could've known anyway. Not when Jeno was fucking you like he wanted to get you pregnant. You wouldn't mind it honestly, and you know he wouldn't either.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jeno grunted through his teeth. He lifted his knee, one foot laying flat on the mattress to get a better angle. "Gonna cum deep inside this pretty pussy."
At this point you were sure you weren't going to be able to walk the next day or the day after that. You felt your body becoming tense, a tight ball forming in your stomach. "J-Jeno, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered loudly.
"Open your mouth."
Jaemin's voice startled you for a second, completely overtaken with the feeling of Jeno. You glanced down seeing Jaemin stroke himself fast. He looked so pretty when he was about to cum. The sweat glistened on his forehead, mouth hanging open, pretty pink cock pulsing in his hand. You opened your mouth, panting loudly feeling yourself come closer and closer to your orgasm.
And just as Jaemin came, letting the thick ropes of cum hit your tongue and face all over, so did you, squeezing tightly around Jeno like you were holding him in for dear life. Loud moans and whimpers bounced off the walls while your hands gripped your blanket so tight it hurt. But Jeno wouldn't stop, not until he came deep in you.
"How does a mini me running around here sound," he chuckled darkly.
"Good, so fucking good." You were delirious. You didn't even know what you were agreeing to at this point, not until he gripped your hips hard and painted your insides white. The panic didn't set in until 2 seconds later, your brows knitting in worry, but you also felt yourself liking it. You liked that he didn't pull out, and it felt so good. Like he owned you.
Your body slumped as Jeno pulled out of you, breathing heavily into your arms. You shuddered, feeling him push his seed back into you as it fell down your thighs.
Jaemin couldn't wait for you to catch your breath, getting up when Jeno moved off the bed behind you. Jaemin took your body, flipping you into your back with one quick movement.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he said, stripping completely naked in front of you.
You couldn't even speak, your throat was too sore to say anything and your brain was completely fried. Jaemin lifted your legs, spreading them gently.
"I'm not like him," he said, tone sweeter than you expected. "I won’t fuck you so rough." His eyes scanned your body, going from your cum covered face to your pretty chest, to your cunt. "But I will make you scream my name."
Jaemin lined his length with your core, pushing himself in you in one swift motion. You held your legs up, staring at where the both of you met. When Jaemin started thrusting into you, you couldn’t keep your voice down. Every movement he made felt like heaven. The raspy whimpers that left your mouth were music to his ears - it made him want to fuck you till your couldn't even remember your name.
"You're so good for me," he breathed, smiling when you nodded fast.
You looked beside you, seeing Jeno watch the both of you, touching himself. "Come here," you breathed.
Jeno bit his lip softly, doing what you said. You moved his hand, replacing it with your own as you lifted your head, wrapping your lips around his cock. You looked up at him, batting your lashes as you sucked him off. Jeno can't remember a time where he was turned on this much in his life. You were just so good, so weak, so careful even when you were being fucked way past your limit.
"She's still so tight after you fucked her open." Jaemin snapped his hips into you hard, making you groan loudly around Jeno. "What a fucking slut."
Jeno chuckled darkly looking at your desperate soft expression. It was funny to him, how you still managed to look cute and innocent with a dick in your mouth and cum on your face.
Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as they both rocked into you at different yet quick paces, causing your mind to spin miles a minute. “God she’s so fucking good for us, taking both our cocks so well. You feel good baby?”
Jeno’s words caused you to shake in pleasure, moaning around him in response. There was no way you’d ever be able to feel this good with anyone else. You didn’t just feel good, you felt fucking euphoric.
“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” you let out a muffed cry as Jaemin’s hand found it’s way to your sensitive clit. Rolling and pinching it between his fingers. The desperation in Jaemin’s voice paired with your over sensitive body from your first orgasm created a whole new level of pleasure. You were close…And they both knew it.
The way you tightened around Jaemin and the high pitched moans breaking past your cock stuffed mouth was a dead giveaway. “Are you going to come for us again Y/N? Is being double stuffed making you feel good?” Something about the tone of Jeno’s voice was just what you needed to be sent over the edge.
Your orgasm shook through you in waves. “F-fuck I’m cumming Y/N. Take it well baby.” Jaemin rocked into you before stilling his hips. Shooting his seed deep into you with breathy groans.
Not being too far behind Jeno’s pace became sloppy. Once a consistent quick pace he now fucked your mouth with unsteady thrusts. Jeno held your head in place as he came in your mouth making sure you took every single drop he had to give. Once he was done he slowly pulled himself out of your mouth.
Jaemin pulled out of your pussy causing you to clench at the sudden loss of him. Suddenly your mind felt as if it was on autopilot. As you felt his cum leak out of your hole you pulled Jeno down into a heated kiss feeling him groan from the taste of him on your tongue. “Oh? Forgetting all about me now?”
Jaemin pouted as you pulled away from Jaemin weakly reaching out to the man. Smiling he leaned down kissing you passionately. “Did you have fun Y/N?” Not having too much energy left you nodded leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Cmon Y/N let’s get you cleaned up.”
The three of you would definitely need to have a conversation later about their little ambush but for now you think I’d be okay to let it slide.
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puckinghischier · 5 months
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Jersey Talk
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nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader
summary: reader finds herself engaging in a lot of jersey talk
notes: part 3 of my lil unnamed nico series!! i loved writing this part and hope you enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 also, i didn’t really proofread so ignore any mistakes. and just a disclaimer, i don’t claim to know everything there is to know about any of the players mentioned in my writing, so if there’s inaccuracies on timelines or personality traits, just ignore them and assume it’s for the plot 😌
p.s.!! i’m thinking about starting a tag list for this/any of my writing i post so if you want to be a part of that, let me know!!
part 1, part 2, part 4
[6.4k]
You absolutely love how foot travel friendly New Jersey is. Coming from an area where foot travel is virtually nonexistent, the change is a welcomed one. You appreciate being able to simply grab your favorite totes, your headphones, and make the fifteen-minute walk to the small corner store. Surely in the winter you’ll feel differently about the five-block trek, but hopefully you’ll have your car by then. For now, the comfortable Autumn air makes the walk enjoyable. The fresh air, the beautiful buildings, and the surprising friendliness of the strangers you pass on the street make you feel like you made the right decision in relocating your life to the garden state.
Luckily this grocery run was fairly light, only needing to pick up some essentials until one of the boys gives you a ride to the larger chain grocery store on one of their upcoming off days. You really just needed the ingredients to make dinner tonight, making good on your promise to be their personal shopper and occasional chef in exchange for a place to live. You even stopped in a small bakery about a block from your apartment and picked up a few assorted pastries for a sweet treat later, knowing how much Luke loves his dessert.
As you walk into the apartment, courtesy of your shiny new key Jack gave you last week, you see both him and Luke on the couch, each with one hand on an iPad held out so both could view the contents on the screen. You assume they’re watching game film, preparing for their game later in the week against the Rangers. Your assumption is confirmed when you hear the unmistakable sound of sticks slapping against pucks and ice coming from the iPad in question.
They’re both so engrossed in the game film on the screen that they have no clue that you’ve even walked through the door. You make your way to the kitchen to unload what’s in your hands, putting away what little groceries you bought. Once you’re finished in the kitchen, you make your way back out into the living room, wanting to catch up with your roommates on how their midday practice had gone. As you walk towards the living area, rounding the loveseat adjacent to the sectional where the boys sit, Luke catches your moving figure from the corner of his eye. His body jerks slightly, clearly startled until he notices its only you.
“Oh my god you just scared the shit out of me,” you hear him exhale, holding his hand to his chest.
You just chuckle as you see Jack whip his head up, confused as to what Luke was referring to until he saw you sitting down, tucking your feet up under your legs to get comfortable.
“When did you get home? Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asks, pausing the game film and sitting the iPad on the small coffee table in the center of the room.
“No, you two were just lost in hockey land when I came in. I went to the corner mart a few blocks down to get stuff to make dinner, then put it all away before coming in here. Thought I’d give you guys a few more minutes before I came in here and interrupted,” you replied, resting your chin on your hands that are placed on the arm of the loveseat.
“Well, you have our full attention now. What’s up?” Jack leans back into the couch once again, stretching his arms above his head.
“Just wanted to talk to my boys. See how practice went today. Figure out how you guys are going to fare against the Rags,” you throw in a small dig at their biggest rival team.
“The Rags? Since when do you participate in hockey talk?” Luke chimes into the conversation, laughing slightly at your attempt to assimilate into the world of hockey.
“Since I overheard a conversation at this cute little bakery down the street. While I was waiting in line there was a man in front of me with a Devils hat on and the guy working the counter was asking him about his thoughts on the game this week. He was talking about how much he wishes ‘the boys can pull their heads out of their asses and beat the damn Rags’ and I thought it was funny. Figured I should probably adopt the local vernacular if I want to fit in around here. You know, participate in the Jersey talk,” you recall with a shrug of your shoulders.
The two brothers let out a little chuckle at your story, amused at your attempt to insert yourself into their world. The two of them and Quinn taught you a lot about how hockey is played and the rules over the years, but their hope of you fully getting involved in all of the aspects of hockey and the fanbase quickly dissolved. They would sit and force you to watch reruns of games with them over the summer at the lake, and you would sit there and whine because of how badly you wanted to go out on the boat or drive the golf cart down to the local ice cream shop, not listening to a single word the trio would say to you. Once you made the decision to move in with the two youngest brothers, you figured you should probably put a little more effort into the whole hockey fan experience, considering you would likely be attending games on a regular basis.
“Well, we’ve been preparing for the Rags, so that old man in the bakery can rest easy knowing we’re working our asses off, which our heads aren’t in, by the way,” Jack speaks, correcting the stranger’s statement.
“Yeah, we’re doing really well, actually. We keep splitting the team up and forcing one half to mimic the Rangers and some of their techniques, so we’re actually getting really good at stopping them from getting the puck into our zone. Plus, our goalies are putting out some insane stops during practice, so I really think we’ve got this in the bag,” Luke adds, excited to showcase their hard work.
You’ve noticed that practices must have been hard for the boys this week. A lot of naps and ibuprofen consumed. You haven’t really seen much of them, if you’re being honest. They’re usually gone by the time you wake up in the mornings and so tired by the time they come home that they go straight to the couch or their bedrooms and fall asleep. By the time they wake up from their naps you’re usually already cooking dinner, at least getting to chat a bit while you cook. After finishing dinner they’re back to the couch, watching game film or heading back to the arena for various events and strategy meetings. They go to bed fairly early, considering all of their early morning starts, so evenings are usually spent in your room by yourself watching tv or catching up with your friends back home. You suppose you should get used to spending time by yourself, though, knowing you’ll be here by yourself more often than not during the season.
They had a game in Boston a few days prior, leaving you with your apartment to yourself for the first time in the two weeks you’ve lived with them. They were only gone for one night, but it was definitely lonely. You really haven’t been here long enough to have an abundance of people to call up anytime Jack and Luke were unavailable, so you had passed the time by exploring the area around your apartment complex a little, finding the perfect park to go sit at to soak up some much-needed sunshine. You couldn’t hide your excitement when the two brothers returned home the next evening, though. You got up from the couch and ran over to the door, ready to greet them and ask them all about the game (you had watched it on tv, but you really just wanted to talk to someone after a full day with no one’s company but your own), but you were greeted with tired eyes and frowns, despite their win the previous night. You simply gave each of them a hug and then sent them off to bed, knowing once they got some sleep they would be up for conversation.
This is why, right now, even though you have zero knowledge of what preparing for a rival hockey game consists of, you’re taking in every word the two have to offer about the subject. You’re just happy to have a few uninterrupted minutes to sit and talk with them.
“Good! That’s great! Really…good,” you say, giving a thumbs up and awkward smile after failing to come up with a better response to Luke’s statements.
Luke just laughs, appreciating your attempts at interest in their jobs.
“You’re coming to the game, right? We put back a ticket for you, but if you can’t make it that’s okay, too. Got you a pretty sick seat, though. Glass seat, right beside the net,” Jack reveals, raising his eyebrows a bit, as if trying to convince you.
“Of course I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you exclaim, a little offended at the mere thought you’d skip out on such a big game for them.
“You won’t be disappointed, I swear. We’re gonna kick some major Rags ass,” Luke adds, excitement showing at the idea of you being in the crowd.
“The real question here shouldn’t be if I’m coming to the game or not. It’s whose jersey am I going to wear?” you throw out, poking fun at the two.
“Pshh, c’mon that one’s a no brainer. You’ll obviously wear mine, I’m your favorite,” Jack waves off your words, fully confident that you’ll agree with him.
“I don’t know, Rowdy. I feel like plenty of people will have 86 jerseys on. It is Moose’s rookie season, maybe I should wear his so he feels included.”
“Yeah, dickhead. You have a whole arena full of people wearing your number, she should wear mine. We all know it’s the better number anyways,” Luke retorts.
Jack rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to fire back an insult at Luke, but he’s cut off by a knock at the door. You look over at the two boys to see if they know who might be at the door, but both of their faces mirror your confused look. So much for your uninterrupted time with them.
“Did you guys invite someone over? Or should I be worried that there’s a murderer standing on the other side of our door right now,” you ask.
“Well first of all I don’t think a murderer would knock on the door. They would probably pick the lock or something. Isn’t the whole point of murdering someone to do it when they don’t see it coming?” Jack responds, standing up. “Second of all, it’s probably just Nico. I had mentioned watching game film together at practice earlier and he told me he’d see how he was feeling later. Kinda forgot about it, if I’m being honest, but this is around the time he wakes up from his post-practice nap.”
You sit up a little straighter when Jack mentions his teammate and captain. You hadn’t seen him since your first night in town about two weeks ago. You’d caught little bits of information about him in passing from both Jack and Luke, but tried to keep your questions about him to a minimum. The two of you were still practically strangers, not having had any reason to communicate after that night. You assume he’s been as busy as Jack and Luke, coming and going far more than you. Still, you’re surprised you haven’t even run into him once. You figure his captain duties keep him far busier than even Luke and Jack.
You hear the front door open and then two sets of voices making their way down the short hallway. You look over to see Nico in a hoodie and sweats, a hat hiding his long hair. You think back to that night at the bar when his hair was uncovered and he was having to push it out of his eyes for most of the night, wishing you could catch a glimpse of the brown locks right now. The two were continuing their short conversation from the door, so Nico had yet to acknowledge you or Luke yet. You look away, starting to pick at a loose thread on your socks, knowing you needed to avert your eyes before you were caught staring.
Unknown to you, Luke had already noticed your stare, observing how fixated you were on his captain. You look over to find Luke staring at you, an undecipherable expression on his face. You give him a puzzled look, as if to say ‘what?’ and he responds by simply shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders a bit.
“Oh, hey you two. How’s it going?” Nico’s voice pulls you from your silent conversation with Luke, noticing Jack was no longer next to him.
“Hey, man. How was your nap? Your shoulder okay?” Luke asks him, adjusting his body slightly on the couch to make room for Nico to sit down.
You turn your head to look at Nico once again, a small hint of worry surfacing. He doesn’t look injured? His arm isn’t in a sling or anything, and he’s not holding it in pain. You watch as he sits down to see if even the smallest wince makes its way across his face as his back comes to rest against the plush cushions. If he’s in any sort of pain, he’s not letting it show in his actions.
“Yeah, perfectly fine. Don’t give yourself that much credit, kid. You don’t hit nearly as hard as you think you do,” Nico chuckles, taking his hand and tapping Luke on the knee a few times.
“Trying to hurt your captain before a huge game, Luke?” you speak for the first time since Nico entered the apartment. “Maybe I should wear Jack’s jersey on Saturday.”
“I knew it! See, my jersey is clearly the better choice, Moose. Sucks to suck, huh?” Jack interjects with a grin, walking from the direction of the kitchen, glass of water in hand.
“Now c’mon, Y/N, that isn’t even fair. It was an accident!” Luke cries out. “We were running drills and I was trying to stop, but I misjudged and ran into Nico. He didn’t even hit the glass that hard, you heard him!”he argues, looking between you and his brother.
“All I’m saying is, it won’t look good if the rookie is the reason the captain can’t play against public enemy number one. Then you’ll become public enemy number one, and I can’t be caught at a game wearing the new public enemy’s jersey. I’m already a newcomer, I can’t tarnish my reputation this early,” you hold your hands up in defense.
“What have I just walked into?” Nico asks, eyes darting between the three of you.
“Well, right before you walked in, we were talking about which jersey Y/N was going to wear to the game on Saturday. I told her the obvious choice was mine, but she decided to spew some bullshit about there being too many 86 jerseys already, so she should wear Luke’s since he’s new and needs to feel included,” Jack uses finger quotes around the last part of his sentence.
“Well, she has a point.”
“See! Even Cap thinks so! That’s it, you’re wearing my jersey, Y/N. Cap’s word is final,” Luke leans back, taking in his assumed victory.
Your mind wanders back to Nico’s words he spoke to you at the bar a couple of weeks ago, wondering if Luke’s statement includes those words, too.
“Maybe I should be fair and not wear either jersey. Just go down the roster and pick a random name and then buy it,” you joke, watching the brothers widen their eyes like you just told them you ran over their childhood pet.
“That’s…not even funny. How dare you even joke about something so important,” Jack stares at you, seriousness painted on his features.
“C’mon, Y/N, that’s just…that’s just cruel,” Luke emphasizes the last word dramatically.
“I think you should do it. In fact, I have a spare jersey I think you can wear,” Nico adds, looking at you with mischievous eyes.
“Oh, well that actually sounds lovely, Nico, thank you! What better way to show my support at my first Devils game than sporting the captain’s jersey?”
Jack and Luke both turn their heads to glare at their captain sitting between them. If looks could kill, the poor Swiss man would be six feet under right now. The Hughes brothers don’t play around when it comes to their jerseys. You remember when you had gone to one of Luke’s games while he was playing for Michigan, wanting to buy a Michigan jersey in support, but the gift shop had run out of Luke’s number once he announced his contract with the Devils. You knew you could have simply asked him for a jersey, knowing he had several lying around his dorm room, but the trip was supposed to be a surprise.
You were forced to buy a random jersey with some lesser known last name on it, because you still wanted to show up in Michigan attire. You don’t even remember whose name and number it was, but you remember the look on Luke’s face when he saw you during warm ups, going from pure joy to disgust in seconds. He skated off, going to the locker room briefly before returning with a yellow Jersey that he then threw over the glass to your seat, motioning for you to put it on. You just laughed and did as you were told. You’ve had similar arguments with both Jack and Quinn over threatening to wear a teammates jersey over the years, but you just like to poke fun at how protective the three are over you. Jack explained to you that they want you to wear their jersey’s because it shows their teammates that you’re to be left alone, knowing the reputations of their fellow players.
“Cap, please don’t make me kick you out of this apartment right now,” Jack looks at Nico with complete seriousness.
“Maybe I need to work on my body checks in practice tomorrow, Cap,” Luke tries to threaten.
Nico simply laughs, shaking his head at the sudden unity between the two bickering brothers.
“Alright, chill out you two, all jokes. Unless…” You trail off, standing up.
“No, no unless. You’re wearing one of our jerseys, preferably mine. Hey! Where are you going, this is serious!” Jack yells after you as you walk towards the kitchen.
“Unless you want to starve tonight, someone has to start making dinner. Plus, I have some jersey shopping to do,” you say, hearing Nico’s laughter ringing out once more as you enter the kitchen.
———————————————————————————
“Hey, Nico! Are you staying for dinner? I need to know how much pasta to make!” you shout from your spot by the stove, having just sat down a large pot of water on the hot eye.
You walk over to the cabinet to grab the box of pasta and a couple jars of sauce, waiting for an answer from the living room. You decided to go with just simple spaghetti and salad tonight, not really in the mood for having to prep a ton of food and spend an hour and a half cooking. Jack will probably complain about the amount of carbs he’s consuming, but he’ll get over it. As if he doesn’t burn enough calories from practice and his personal workouts he does on a daily basis. Luke will just be happy to have something that isn’t chicken, seeing as that’s all you made for the first few days of your new living arrangement, trying to stick to the meal plan Jack had the nutritionist send you.
After the third night of some form of chicken and vegetables, Luke was quick to inform you that no one on the team follows the meal plan so strictly. You also learned that Jack is going through some phase of eating nothing but chicken or steak and brown rice, Luke revealing that’s what the two mostly lived on during the weeks leading up to your move. You had told Luke he should learn to cook for himself, and then he wouldn’t be forced to eat what Jack or you decide to make if he doesn’t like it, but he had rolled his eyes and told you “this was the agreement, right? We won’t let you pay rent, so you told us you would contribute by cooking. So really, I’m just helping you fulfill your roommate duties.”
You still don’t have an answer from the three in the living room. You figure they’re too busy with game film to hear you, so you decide to just make enough for Nico, too. You can always pack up the leftovers and have them for lunch the next few days if needed. You dump what you think to be the proper amount of pasta for four people into the pot once it reaches a boil, then work on pouring the sauce into a pan to let it heat up. You cheated on the salad, too, deciding to just buy two bags of salad mix, dumping the bag into a large bowl and adding the small packets of toppings. You’ve just dumped the now done pasta into the colander in the sink, turning to put the pot back onto the stove to cool off a bit when a voice causes you to nearly drop the hot pot in your hands.
“It smells delicious in here,” Nico announces his presence, walking through the doorway towards the fridge.
You settle yourself before setting the pot down safely on the stovetop before speaking. “You know, I really need to get on ordering those squeaky shoes if I want to avoid a heart attack by 25.”
Turning your body, you see Nico hunched over looking in the fridge, arm reaching towards a water bottle before raising up, flashing you a smile.
“Nah, even if you buy them I wouldn’t wear them. This is like, our thing now. Me sneaking up on you, you getting mad, me getting a good laugh out of it,” he stands back at his full height now.
“How comforting that you find enjoyment out of my jumpiness. Such an admirable trait to have,” you grumble, taking the pasta from the sink and transfer it into the pan filled with sauce. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, seeing as it looks like I made enough to feed the entire team, but I think I’ll just leave you to fend for yourself. See how funny that is.”
This earns another laugh, Nico moving to lean against the counter opposite of you, watching you try to combine the sauce and the pasta without making a giant mess.
“Why don’t you just put it back in the pot you cooked the pasta in. You’ll be able to mix it easier.”
“Because apparently that would have been too easy,” you step back and huff, wondering why you didn’t think of that before you created an overflowing mess of sauce and noodles.
Nico makes his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to move you out of the way. He picks up the pan and dumps the contents into the pot sitting next to it, not spilling a single drop.
“There, now you can mix it easier and it won’t spill out over the sides and cause an even bigger mess,” he states, placing the dirty pan in the sink behind you.
“Okay, captain chef, next time you’re cooking dinner, since you clearly have more kitchen skills than me,” you tell him, making your way across the kitchen to collect plates to sit on the table.
Nico just chuckles as he watches you grab the plates, sitting one in front of each chair around the small dining table that sits in the kitchen.
“It smells so good in here, please tell me its almost done,” Jack enters the kitchen, Luke trailing behind him.
“It is, just finished actually,” you look up, Nico carrying the pot of steaming pasta from the stove to the table, careful not to drop it.
“Rowdy, grab the salad over there by the sink for me while I grab some forks for everyone,” you move towards the silverware drawer, walking around the Swiss man in your kitchen, having to turn your body slightly as he steps back from the table.
“Well, I better get going, my leftovers aren’t going to heat themselves up,” Nico announces, starting to make his way out of the kitchen.
“Cap, are you crazy? Do you not see how much food Bouy made?” Jack places the bowl of salad next to the pot of pasta, taking his seat at the table.
“Jack, I’m being so serious right now, if you keep using that stupid nickname for me I will sneak laxatives into your protein shakes.” You take the seat across from Jack, Luke falling into the seat to your left.
“Well, as long as it’s okay with Bouy, I’d love to stay.” Nico walks back over to the table, taking the seat next to Jack, smirking while avoiding eye contact with you.
“I know where you live, so the threat extends to you too, Cap” you glare at Nico.
The rest of the meal is mostly filled with talk between the three hockey players, you chiming in here and there, until Jack shifts the topic of conversation to you.
“So, what’s the update with your new job? You have everything lined up and ready to go?”
“Yeah, talked to them earlier today, actually. They said they’d have my office ready in about a week, so I should be starting not long after that.” You shrug, not wanting to bore them with the details of the corporate scene in New Jersey.
“Where are you going to be working?” Nico asks, genuine interest present in his tone, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“I got offered a position with a small publishing company not too far from here, actually. Mostly independent, up and coming authors, but still exciting,” you reveal, perking up a bit at the opportunity to talk about your passion.
“Was super worried I wasn’t going to be able to use my degree after college, seeing as the market for English lit degrees isn’t too wide unless you want to teach. At least, that’s how it is back home. After I graduated and Jack offered the spare room here, I applied to a few positions here in Jersey and a few in New York, willing to make the commute if needed. Only heard back from one place, though. And it just so happened to be a thirty-minute drive from here, so I accepted and started packing,” you explained.
“It was meant to be. The gang back together once again,” Jack beams.
“Well, the gang minus Quinn. The fucker just had to end up in Vancouver of all places,” Luke grumbles, still upset the oldest Hughes is so far away.
“Lucky for us I can work remotely if I ever need or want to, so this summer at the lake we can all be together again,” you try to cheer Luke up, knowing how much he wishes the three brothers could have played on the same team while making their dreams come true.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack celebrates. “This is going to be the best summer at the lake house yet. We’re all grown, most of us legal drinking age, but don’t worry, we won’t tell if you won’t, Lukey,” Jack winks over at Luke, knowing the underage drinking rule has never really applied in the sacred space of the lake houses, “and we’ll all finally be there together again after, what, like 6 years?”
“It’s been awhile, at least that long,” you try to think back to the last time everyone was there together.
It was the summer before Quinn got drafted. Quinn had signed to play hockey at Michigan a few months before everyone was set to arrive at the summer oasis. You remember being so proud of him. You couldn’t wait to finally see him and congratulate him in person, knowing how hard he had worked for it. You figured things would stay the same for a few more years, expecting him to come home every summer for the next four years before moving on to the NHL. You had no clue that he would be drafted only a summer later and that it would be the beginning of the end for the summers of fun at the lake house.
“Nico, you should come up this summer! It’s always such a good time!” Jack pulls you from your reminiscing.
“I mean, maybe. I’ve been talking to my parents about flying home during the off season this year, since I didn’t make it over there last year. But I could probably come for a few days, at least,” he shrugs his shoulders.
You try to picture Nico at the lake house, hat covering his hair, swim trunks and a t-shirt covering his body. You picture him lounging on the boat in the sun while Jack takes everyone out for a midday ride, finding a secluded spot somewhere on the lake to stop and swim for a while. You picture him trying to wake surf, wondering if he’d be instantly good at it or if he would end up wiping out in the water. You picture him sitting around the fire at night, a light hoodie on to the mask the chill that never fails to make an appearance on Michigan summer nights, the glow from the fire illuminating his face just enough for you to admire him. You picture him with a slight sunburn on his nose, tan skin glowing from being in the sun so often.
You must have been lost in your thoughts for longer than you realized, because you came back to the conversation with several calls of your name from the seat next to you.
“Are you even listening to us anymore? Or do you really not want Cap coming to the lake house?” Luke looks over at you, slightly waving his hand in front of your face.
“What? No,” you say, looking around at the expectant faces surrounding you. “I mean, no I don’t care if he comes. It would be fun, yeah. If he can make it, of course. You heard him, I’m sure he’s excited to see his family.”
“I’m sure I can work something out. Have the best of both worlds. These two have talked about the infamous lake house so much I’m curious to see if it really lives up to all the hype,” Nico leans back, nodding his head towards both Jack and Luke.
“Then its settled! Cap is coming to Michigan this summer!” Jack cheers, throwing his arms up in celebration.
You laugh in response to Jack’s excitement, noticing that everyone seems to be done eating, plates clean and glasses empty. You stand up and start to take some of the dishes to the sink, setting them in there before walking back over to the table.
“Since you’re in such a good mood, I think now would be the best time to tell you that you and Luke have dish duty tonight.” You clear the last of the dishes off the table.
You watch Jack’s face fall, while Luke’s does a sharp turn in your direction. You turn your back to them to walk back over to the counter, opening the cabinet below you to find Tupperware to store the leftovers in.
“On that note, I better get going. Have some laundry I need to get done before practice in the morning,” Nico stands, bringing over a few stray pieces of silverware you seemed to have missed.
“Oh, no you don’t, Cap. You heard her, she cooked, we clean,” Jack turns to look at his captain as he makes his way to the sink.
“No, I said you and Luke have dish duty tonight. Nico’s name was never mentioned. Guests don’t do the dishes, Jack. I know Ellen raised you better than that.”
“Nico is hardly a guest. He’s over here all the time!” Luke chimes in, opening one of the drawers by the sink, grabbing a towel to dry dishes with.
“He doesn’t pay any rent for the apartment, therefore he’s a guest. Just accept your fate, you two. You’ll survive, I promise.” You hand the pot you just emptied to Jack, taking the food in your hands to the fridge a few steps away.
“You don’t pay any rent, and you’re not a guest,” Jack mumbles, hands covered in soapy suds.
“Exactly! That means I don’t do the dishes, either. I knew you’d catch on eventually! And they say you’re just a pretty face,” you shut the fridge door, looking over at Jack with an amused grin.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Jack whines.
“C’mon, man, you walked right into that one,” Nico adds, laughing at his teammate.
Jack glares at the taller man. “I thought you said you were leaving, that you had laundry to do or some shit.”
“I am, I am,” Nico throws his hands up in defense.
“I’ll walk you out, Nico. Leave the children to pout while doing their chores,” you jest, walking toward the kitchen’s exit.
“Thanks for dinner, Y/N. Ten times better than whatever I would’ve found in my fridge,” Nico says as you pass through the living room.
“Anytime, Cap,” you use his title, blaming Jack and Luke for the new habit. “After all, I owed you for rescuing me from sleeping in the hallway.”
This earns another one of those laughs you love to hear fall from his mouth, smiling to yourself as he follows you down the small hallway towards the front door.
“I feel like you definitely had to put in more effort on your end of that deal,” he steps through the door you’re holding open.
“I’ll just wait until you owe me a favor, then I’ll make sure to cash in some extravagant request,” you joke, leaning against the door as he stands in the hallway.
“I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”
Nico takes his apartment key from his pocket and unlocks his door, opening it and stepping inside, turning around to face you once again, his stance mirroring your own in his own doorway.
“So, I’ll see you at the game on Saturday, then?” He stalls a goodbye.
“Yep, I’ll be there. Still deciding which brother I’m going to piss off,” you reference the earlier argument over whose jersey you’ll wear.
“Oh, that reminds me-“ Nico says before propping his door open, leaving you alone in your doorway, confused as to where he could’ve gone.
After about a minute of you standing there, wondering if he was going to come back, he returns, holding a red jersey in his hand.
“Here, figured there’s no sense in you going out and buying one if you really wanted to mess with their heads.”
He hands you the jersey, stepping back into his doorway. You unfold the jersey and notice the big black C on the upper left corner of the jersey. It was a solid red jersey, the team’s symbol in the middle, two black stripes on the forearms of each sleeve, more black accents on the shoulders of the jersey. You look up at him, a little surprised.
“I- I can’t take one of your jerseys, Nico. What if I mess it up, or spill something on it? I’ll just wear one of the ones I have. This looks too nice to risk it,” you attempt to hand the jersey back across the hallway.
“No, I insist. I think it’ll be fun to mess around with them a little. Especially Jack, since he seemed so convinced you were going to wear his. They’ll never even see it coming,” Nico refuses.
You run the idea through your head for a second, thinking about how it would be a funny little dig at the boys. You also think about the implications of wearing a jersey that doesn’t belong to one of Hughes brothers. It’s harmless, though, right? Nico said it was just a fun way to get under their skin. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Y/N’ you think to yourself, trying to kick your habit of creative narratives in your head.
“Okay, but if I end up getting kicked out of my apartment I’m knocking on your door to sleep on your couch,” you finally agree.
“My door’s always open for you.”
You look back down to the jersey in your hands to hide the blush that appears on your face at his words. You know you’ve only known him for a short period of time, tonight being the first real chunk of time you’ve spent in his presence, but Nico is making it really hard for you to keep your feelings for him casual. You’ve always had a habit of getting a case of the heart eyes fast, but you’re trying to be normal, for once.
He’s likely just being his normal, personable self and you’re letting every smile and joke go to your head, placing more meaning on them than is warranted. There’s just something about him, though. He’s extremely attractive, for one. But it’s more than that. From all that you’ve learned about him through Jack and Luke, and the easy conversation that has flowed between the two of you from the moment you first spoke to him in the hallway, you can’t lie to yourself and say you’re not drawn to the Swiss captain.
Your mind circles back to the idea of wearing his jersey this weekend and what Jack and Luke will think. What if you seriously hurt their feelings? What if it affects how they play because they’re mad at you? What if they ignore you the whole game? You know the two brothers love you, but you also know how petty they can both be when mad.
“Stop overthinking it. I can see you getting lost up in that head of yours. It’s a harmless joke. They’re not going to freak out on the ice or anything. And if they do, I’m in more danger than you are,” Nico reassures you, pulling you from your thoughts.
“You better at least score a goal if I’m risking being homeless for you,” you tell him, looking back up at his face.
“How about I do you one better. If you promise to wear my jersey, I’ll score a hatty for your first ever New Jersey Devils hockey experience,” Nico offers, his eyes flashing with something you assume is delight at a challenge.
“Well then you better work on your slapshot tomorrow morning, Captain. I’ll be holding you to that Saturday night,” you take the bait, knowing how difficult a hat trick is to pull off.
“No need, I know I’ll have the right motivation night of to get it done,” he winks at you, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. “And if I don’t, consider it your IOU for that extravagant request you might need one day,” He responds, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders, the nonchalance of his body language making you hope for his failure, just so you can think of some ridiculous task for him to perform.
“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll get right to brainstorming,” you respond, trying to prevent your thoughts from spiraling yet again.
Nico lets out a small laugh, standing up straight and placing his hand on the handle of his door. “Think hard. Let me know what you come up with. Have a good night, Bouy, see you Saturday.” He shuts the door before you can berate him for using the nickname you hate.
You walk back into your apartment, door shutting behind you, going straight to your room to hide the jersey before either of the boys see it. You think back on the entire interaction, a smile on your face at the possibility of being able to have Nico do anything you ask him. As you’re walking past the kitchen you hear Jack’s voice.
“Luke, am I stupid or did Y/N call me stupid earlier?” he recalls your earlier comment about him being ‘just a pretty face’.
“Think about how you worded the first part of your question and you’ll have your answer,” you hear Luke respond as you make it past the kitchen unnoticed, making you stifle a giggle so you won’t be discovered.
Oh how you loved being back with your boys.
596 notes · View notes
amomentsescape · 1 year
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Slashers Saying "I Love You" for the First Time Headcanon
A/N: This was meant to be the last post for Slasher Summer, but I have a recent request that will be posted next week <3
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Michael Myers
Michael is clearly a man of few words
Showing affection in general is virtually impossible for him
So the night that you decided to lay it all on the table was one of confusion and sadness
"I love you," you had said softly
You had finally mustered up the courage to look at him after this, and he just stared back at you through the mask
You could feel the tears swelling up into your throat, your stomach growing queasy
He tilted his head at the falling tears
"I knew this was pointless. You don't feel a damn thing for me."
You went to stand up, but he just grabbed your wrist firmly, not letting you budge
You grew a bit angry at this
"Why am I still here if you feel nothing for me?!"
He pulled you closer to him
And you suddenly heard him speak quietly in a deep, rough voice
"You're the only life I'd never harm"
You felt your face soften at this
He isn't very good at verbally saying he loves you
But now you know he does
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Jason Voorhees
Jason doesn't really speak much like the aforementioned man above him
But he is better with at least showing you that he cares
He always protects you, brings you anything you request
He has even gone out of his way to pick you flowers from the forest floor
They had some blood on them, but the sentiment was there
So when he came home later than normal one night, you about passed out from the relief
"Jesus, I thought something happened to you!" you hurried. "Don't ever do that again. I love you too much to just sit here and worry."
He grew incredibly still at this
Your face felt warm when you realized what you had said
You shifted your gaze down, only to feel his cold arms wrap around you tightly
He held you for quite a while like this, trying to show you that he felt the same
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Freddy Krueger
You found yourself in Freddy's arms like you did every night
He was rubbing your back gently, trying to help you out of your slump
Today hadn't gone very well for you
With screaming customers, clumsy hands, and a migraine, work was about as calm as a hurricane for you
However, Freddy's presence alone was enough to relax you
Which was funny considering who he was
"I love you..." you murmured quietly
You continued to relax into him, only for his rubbing to stop
You opened your eyes suddenly when you realized
"Um..." you started
You finally met his gaze and saw the biggest grin on his face
"Well, it's about damn time," he rasped. "And I love you too."
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Thomas Hewitt
Another man with little to say
He's a bit too shy to ever say those three words first, so when you finally broke and said them, he couldn't help but feel excited
You were cleaning a deep gash in his shoulder from a victim fighting back
He didn't move a muscle as he watched you do your magic
You sighed at him, and he made a grunting sound to insinuate his concern
"I just don't like seeing the people I love hurt like this"
You hadn't realized what you said until you felt his body stiffen
You suddenly froze as well
After a moment of awkward silence, you finally raised your gaze
When you managed to meet his eyes, he quickly pulled you into him, his heart racing against your ear
You laughed a bit at this and hugged him back, feeling a weight lift off of your shoulders
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Bubba Sawyer
You had been out in the Texas heat with Bubba trying to help clean up after the family's latest... endeavor
However, the 100 degree weather was certainly doing a number on you
You took a seat on the porch steps and closed your eyes, trying to build up enough energy to carry on
After a few minutes, you felt a sudden jolt of cold on the back of your neck, making you jump
When you looked up, you saw Bubba kneeling in front of you
You realized that he had placed an ice pack on your back
"Thank you," you spoke quietly
He continued to stare at you with concern in his eyes
"I'm okay," you reassured. "I promise."
You reached out your pinky to him in hopes of solidifying this promise
However, he grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his chest, making you feel his heartbeat
You looked up at him and saw slightly teary eyes behind his mask
You felt your heart flutter
"I love you too," you responded softly
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Brahms Heelshire
Brahms was currently being a bit bratty with you before bed time
He wasn't one to deny your kisses, but he was very determined to not go to bed tonight
"It's late, Brahms," you argued, leaning in to try and give him his goodnight kiss
But he just kept turning his head away, dodging all of your attempts
"I'm not even tired," he tried to fight back
You groaned. "Fine. Then you can just go to bed without your kiss."
You went to stand up but was immediately tugged back into the bed
"Stay," he said
You shook your head. "I'm exhausted, Brahms. I want to sleep."
After a few moments of consideration, he finally broke and tilted his head to you
You happily leaned in to kiss him, only to feel his lips forcefully push against yours
This kiss was much more heated than expected
"What was that for?" you asked
He tucked himself further into the covers, smiling intently
"I love you. Goodnight!" he said, pulling you into him
You just laid there dumbfounded, not even sure Brahms knew what he had just said
"I love you too..." you finally responded moments later
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Norman Bates
You were currently crying and frantically pacing around
The latest motel customer was dead and bleeding out into the floor in front of you
Norman had been standing on top of him, a dirty knife gripped tightly in his hand
Norman was also frantic right now, trying to explain himself
"He was harassing you, (Y/N)! I couldn't let him treat you like that."
It was true that he had been making inappropriate remarks towards you, making you feel uncomfortable the whole time he had been staying here
But you didn't think murder should have been the first solution
Hell, you didn't even know Norman was capable of something like this
It made you question everything
"You just killed someone, Norman! Jesus, is he even the first one? Is this what you were going to do with me once you didn't need my help anymore?!"
Norman's face dropped at this, and he let the knife fall to the ground
"What?! No! (Y/N), I love you. P-please..."
You could feel your heart drop at this
God, was he really just trying to protect you? Something about those eyes made you want to believe him
You slowly began to walk over, his sad eyes watching you
When you finally got in front of him, you pulled him into a strong embrace
"I-I think I love you too, Norman."
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Billy Loomis
It was just another typical house party you managed to drag Billy to
He didn't mind these types of gatherings usually, but lately, he only really went to them if he planned to kill everyone there
So actually going as himself felt a little odd
But he'd do it for you
And now here you were, tipsy and dancing all over him
He liked your attention for sure, but he hadn't drank nearly as much as you since he was your ride home
"C'mon, Billy!" you tried convincing him. "Dance with me!"
He just let out a light chuckle at this
"I'm not really in the dancing mood, babe," he responded
You pouted at him cutely. "Pleeeease? Don't you love me?"
He felt himself freeze up at this
You two hadn't used that L word yet
But he quickly shook this off
He smiled. "Of course I love you."
It was your turn to freeze up. You didn't realize what you said until he repeated it back. You suddenly felt 100% sober
"Really?" you asked
He rolled his eyes. "Damn right."
You smiled brightly
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Stu Macher
Stu ran out of the now silent house with adrenaline pumping through his veins
When he finally saw you waiting for him, his face broke out into a wide grin
"How did it go?!" you asked urgently
He just let out an excited laugh
"Babe, it was perfect! I got 'em all in just 10 minutes!"
You giggled happily with him as he wrapped you in his arms, swinging you around with him
"Did I turn off the lights at the right time?"
He nodded urgently. "It was absolutely perfect! God, I love you."
He squeezed you into him tighter, but all you could think of was what he just said
When he realized you weren't holding him back, he pulled away and looked at you concerned
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he asked
You shook your head. "Stu. You just said you loved me."
He looked even more confused. "Yeah, cuz I do...?"
Stu didn't understand why this was such a surprise
So after a few moments, the shock finally wore off
"I love you too," you responded
His smile only grew even more. "Good!"
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Eric Draven
"Jesus," you muttered to yourself
Eric simply laughed at this
"It's not funny. You could have gotten yourself killed!"
He raised his brow at this
You groaned. "I know, I know. You can't die, but this must not have felt very good!"
He smirked. "Been through worse."
"Yeah, and if you do this again, I'll find a way to kill you for the second time."
He just watched you with a content smile
He couldn't help but feel warm at your constant doting
He hated to make you worry every night, but coming home to see that relieved look on your face made everything worth it
You were the only thing that actually made him feel alive nowadays
"I love you, you know?" you finally sighed
He could feel his eyes burn at this
It had been so long since he felt loved by a person, and here you were admitting it to him
You looked up at him after a moment of silence
"Are you gonna say something, or do I just look stupid now-"
"I love you, (Y/N)."
You smiled. "Good. Just another reason for you to be careful coming home to me."
2K notes · View notes
writingmeraki · 6 months
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here and now.
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a kim mingyu drabble !
pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married )
genre : angsty with fluff :)
warnings : reader is pretty miserable, cussing, cheol is mean but annoying mean, petnames, kissing, unhealthy routines.
author's note : ohhh i can't let go of these two, i rlly jst like this au a lot lol, i wonder if you would want more set in this same au, lmk hehe :) hope you like this !! but also the fact that i have other wips but i can't get this specific couple out of my head ???? very self indulgent bcoz tell me why i want this mingyu with me rn. also third work this month...let's hope we keep balling like that!!!
set in the SAME universe as this !
word count : 1.6k
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The world was miserable.
You wanted to curl up in a ball and just lay in your bed, sleeping until you could no longer differentiate between reality and dreamland.
But alas, you couldn’t. As an agent, sleep to you was like a reward. One would think a need should never be something you get once in a while but, your job was practically making all your essentials feel like rewards. 
Mayhaps not the healthiest, but you were already used to it and your body as well, so you were not truly affected when you couldn’t get any of your essentials. 
Though, you were sure the world felt more miserable because you hadn’t seen him in so long.
Kim Mingyu, the man you married. Your husband.Your other half, your other puzzle piece, your other- you get the point. Six months, twelve days, and ten hours since you last saw him. 
He was gone on a mission that was supposed to take no less than a month, but who were you kidding? Who was your boss kidding? Top priority missions always took up time. 
The thing that still pisses you off is why you weren’t allowed to go with him. 
Apparently, you were needed back in Seoul and not there was the bullshit reason. You spent enough time being annoyed and angry at that, now you just felt terribly upset. Upset without him in your life physically, sure virtually he was one message away, but being on the complete opposite side of the globe also meant time zones were a pain in the ass.
Sighing, you made your way into the tall building disguised as one of the offices but it was where your agency was. You held a cup of coffee, that was just as bitter as your mood, in fact you didn’t even like coffee, but today you felt no point in trying to uplift your mood because the only thing that would was a certain person who you were not even sure when you’d meet. 
It was not you who felt this way, in fact Mingyu was probably feeling worse. Having been someone whose love language was physical affection, it did not feel the same through a fucking screen. He was ready to quit actually, three months into it because he terribly wanted to see you, but you convinced him he’d be back sooner if he finished it. 
You knew you were lying to him and yourself, but you had no choice. This was your duty right? 
The boss’ office was still as peculiar as he was, never failing to amuse you whenever you’d enter and always finding new collections or items decorating it. Today, you saw an art piece that was of the sun and the moon. 
Everything reminded you of him. He was your sun, even your moon too. 
You frowned more at the thought, wondering how the heck were you not able to not think of him for a few minutes. Then again, perhaps being together for more than a decade would do the trick. You’re practically bound permanently by that point. 
Sitting down on the cushion chair in front of Seungcheol, you didn’t even bother greeting him, still in thoughts until you heard a chuckle from in front of you. 
“What’s funny?”
“You look extra miserable today.” 
You glared at the man, annoyance changing into anger with retorts about how he’d feel if he was kept away from his partner for this long, considering he was someone who was pretty boastful about his partner. 
“But- I did not call you for that. I have a special mission for you. And no, I don’t have any updates on Mingyu.”
You groaned at his words, considering what he said was just getting worse and worse as he spoke. 
“For this though, you’ll have someone with you. You’ll be needing another person to complete this task. They should be arriving in a few minutes.” 
“Please don’t be a rookie, I don’t have the patience to deal with one, not right now.” You figured you couldn’t not do it. It was your job after all. But perhaps he’d be a little considerate. 
“Oh don’t worry, I think they are pretty experienced, maybe even more than you.” He grinned but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what he meant. His eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t tell. 
“Just say you hate me, Cheol. It’s easier.” You bitterly spat out, taking a sip of the now cold coffee and frowning in distaste. It seemed it was up to par with your state. 
You leaned back, looking at the watch on your wrist, seeing it’s been a few minutes already and wondering just how long this person would take. 
You tried to pinpoint who it possibly was, but you were never good with names of people you might have seen in passing. That was more of Mingyu’s thing, he always remembered the forgettable things. 
The sound of the door opening was what made you perk up. You sat a little straighter, feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t make it outwardly obvious to the entire population how you were truly feeling. 
Seeing the chair pull, you didn’t bother looking besides you, feeling that seeing them from the corner of your eye was enough. They were a little further from you, but you could tell they were quite…large? They were wearing a cap and a mask, practically their entire body was covered with a black coat. It was suspicious and you just wondered if this was just an excuse for Seungcheol to have you murdered in a discreet way. 
Seokmin…? No, he's almost my height, probably Chan? 
You didn’t even realise the person had taken your coffee, pulled off their mask,took a sip of it and almost spat it out. 
“Baby this is actually so disgusting, since when did you drink this?” 
Wait.
You recognised that voice. 
He kept the cup back down on the table in front of you, wearing that very very familiar ring on his left ring finger. 
You think your brain short circuited at that very moment. 
Now you knew why Seungcheol had a sly grin. 
The fucker planned this. 
In all his glory, Kim Mingyu sat beside you, now seeing no point in wearing the cap, he tossed it off and threw it on the table. He shuffled his hair, which was now longer than you last saw it.
“Missed me?” He had the audacity to say that with his stupid canines peaking out, wearing that stupid grin that made you feel giddy all over and the stupid glint in his eyes that shone as he took you in.
Stupid, stupid, stupid Mingyu for making you feel like throwing up in all mixes of emotions. 
So in the mix of it, you just remained frozen. Eyes blank, nothing on your face physically to indicate any emotion. 
“I’ll leave you two…just don’t do…stuff.” Seungcheol retorted and your hands itched to strangle him. 
Before you could even comprehend you were now alone, you felt your chair being pulled to face him. Your mind still in disbelief and conflict.
“Hi.” He spoke gently, his hands now reaching towards yours and grasping them. It had been way too long since he smelt your signature perfume, held your hands in his with the same intensity, felt your touch. He thinks he might just die in peace now. 
“I’m just trying to figure out if I’m dreaming.” You murmured as you blinked slowly at him, still unmoving even though he now was bent down and closer to you.
The grin on his face widened as he leaned in, and next thing you know, you felt his lips on yours. 
Familiar…just like…home. 
He pulled back, still smiling as he softly laughed, “Real enough, darling?”
Mingyu wasn’t someone who was caught off-guard easily but he was the moment you launched forward and wrapped your arms around him. He yelped as he held you, surprisingly not toppling over.
You didn’t even grasp you were full on sobbing at that point, your entire body shaking and held you even more tightly. He stood up, one arm around your waist and the other gently rubbing your back. 
“I’m here now, I’m here.” He whispered softly as his hand caressed your hair, you moved your arms to wrap them over his shoulder as you placed your head in the crook of his neck. 
“i-i really-” missed you. I felt incomplete without you. I just…I really missed you. I really fucking love you.
You wanted to say as cheesy as it may have sounded, but cheesiness be darned you couldn’t hold back, not when the time apart made you realise that it didn’t matter if it was just another way of showing your love for him. You also realised Kim Mingyu deserved all possible ways of showing your love for him.
“I know, ‘s okay baby, I know.” You only sobbed harder as you pulled back, not caring how you looked, probably a whole mess with red eyes and tears all over, his arms were still around you as you held his face with both hands. 
He was there. You thought as you caressed his cheeks. He was there. You thought as he looked at you like he’d finally found his treasure,eyes twinkling, smiling at you.
And he was there, right there, with you as you tilted your head up, closing your eyes and placing your lips on his. 
Because no matter what or how long, Kim Mingyu would always find his way back to you, his other forever half. 
And oh, you’d make sure he was never apart from you from then on. Not even for a day. 
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all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
feedback is always appreciated 💌
links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !
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reidsaurora · 3 months
Note
Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe
i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!
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"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner
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Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…
Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader
Word Count: 2,019
Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!
Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂
Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024
Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
Summer Celebration info can be found here!
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Sun Kissed - fluff requests
Malibu Dream House - domestic!au
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Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.
Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”
“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”
Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”
“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.
You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”
He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”
Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”
“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”
“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”
His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.
One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.
Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.
His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.
“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.
“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”
As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.
“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”
“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”
They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”
“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”
It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.
“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”
It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.
Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”
You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”
Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”
Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.
Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.
“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.
Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.
Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”
Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.
“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.
“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”
You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”
JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”
Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”
“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”
“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.
“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”
“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”
Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”
“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”
You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.
Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.
Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.
Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”
Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”
“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”
“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.
“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.
You scoffed. “It was not that look.”
“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.
Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”
“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.
The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.
“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”
“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.
You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.
Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”
The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.
“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.
JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”
“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”
Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.
“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.
“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”
And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”
Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.
Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.
“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”
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taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea
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acstation206 · 27 days
Text
I messed up. /j
Introducing...
THE AMAZING DIGITAL ARCADE PARTY!
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Yeah, that's right, I caved in.
Basically the exact same show except its established lore and setting is more largely inspired by archive compilations of popular vintage arcade games of the 80s and 90s such as Pac-Man’s Arcade Party, as well as the different takes within the sci-fi / fantasy genre by the likes of Wreck-It Ralph, Tron: Legacy, and Infinity Train. 
==
= BACKGROUND (in a nutshell) 💿 =
In an attempt to save their dying business, C&A developed and manufactured the first hybrid arcade game of its own kind that combined other popular arcade games and home console games with virtual reality. However, just as the company’s luck was turning around, numerous lawsuits from game companies by the likes of Nintendo and families were filed against the company for their product, from apparently “ripping-off” Super Mario Bros. in its entirety to causing many children to either inexplicably fall unconscious or suffer from amnesia after the cabinet’s headset was put on. Just then, as C&A announced they’ll be temporarily recalling the product to fix its issues, a shocking discovery was already made by investigators that would soon bring the company to its demise: the game’s AI had gone rogue, and once a human mind dies from losing one of the games in any way, they are either permanently reincarnated as a personified cartoon character of themselves or just straight up die in real-life depending on the outcome.
==
= ART N’ STUFF 🎨 =
(might wanna make a separate masterpost for that in the future but oh well)
NES Ragatha
==
= Q&As and BOUNDARIES (sort of) 🎙️ =
"Are there any plans to make a full webcomic out of this?" - Uhhhh, mayyybe? I'm not entirely sure, honestly. While there may be a few side comics and artwork from my head I want to get out sometime, I don't really have much plans for this AU that'll be worth telling a full story right now since I feel there is plenty of things that I've yet to figure out and develop in a matter of time, particularly the setting and characters (especially considering the OG show itself has only 2 episodes out as of writing and I only have mobile apps like ibisPaint X to make this all possible at the moment).
"Can I make fanfics and OCs for this AU?" - Of course! I've seen a lot of incredible things from the community, especially in regards to alternate universes, so you're absolutely more than welcome to share whatever's on your mind as long as your heart's in the right place. I can't really guarantee I'll see every bit of it since I do have some personal biz of mine to take care of at any moment, but I'll be happy to reblog them whenever I get the chance. Just tag me and we all good. :)
"Are there any canon ships in this AU?" - Yes. Yes, there are. Well, only BunnyDoll (Jax x Ragatha) to be specific. HOWEVER, you are free to ship whoever you want here! Showtime (Caine x Pomni), ButtonBlossom (Pomni x Ragatha), it's all okay. The choice is yours, a romantic buffet! (Plus, depending on the quality of my writing, I'm not even planning to dwell too much into it for now, aside from the side comics that will.)
==
That's all for right now. Enjoy! :)
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wonderlandwalker · 9 months
Text
He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known
Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread
Word Count: 1.6k
Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️
A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika
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He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 
He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.
Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 
He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 
It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 
And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.
“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 
“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 
“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.
And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 
Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 
The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 
And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.
After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.
“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”
The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 
He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 
He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 
He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.
But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.
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Part 2: Should've Known
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Note
Congratulations on the milestone love✨🎉
For my request, 'walking in on the other' with Steve Rogers? Or with any marvel character, whatever you see fit!
Thank you 💙
.⋆。Midnight Swim。⋆.
Steve Rogers x plus size reader
Being on the run doesn’t exactly get you a comfortable life, but finally, there’s a chance for you to relax, if only you could find your swimsuit… or not
Warnings: skinny dipping, nudity (obvi), brief mentions of the events of Civil War, implied smut WC: 1.4k
6k Follower Celebration Bingo
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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You ached, putting it lightly. Months of running from virtually every government on the planet didn’t exactly give you the luxury of relaxing or unwinding after a long day. The rooms you stayed in never had baths to soak in or even a comfy mattress to sink into so when Steve announced that the motel you were going to had not only a jacuzzi but also king sized beds, you thought you had died and gone to heaven. 
“I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor, gorgeous, cause I will be spread eagle on that bed.” Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the cement steps up to the second floor. 
“Don’t worry about me birdie, that hot tub is calling my name.” You moaned, giving the man a light shove.
“We leave at sunup, don’t get too comfortable.” Steve’s voice broke the little bubble of happiness around the two of you. You looked back at the man, his brow was furrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenching. It wasn’t hard to see that he was different now; gone was the hopeful and starry eyed golden boy, instead you were left with a man who was only trying to survive in the face of complete betrayal of everything he held dear. Throw in a beard and a whole new uniform, Captain America was no more.
“C’mon Steve, we can afford a couple days of rest. We’re all exhausted.” Natasha laid a hand on his arm. “Besides, I think we all need to have a proper shower and do laundry.” You smiled gratefully at her as Steve sighed.
“Alright, just don’t draw too much attention to yourselves. Nat, how about you room with Sam?” 
“It’s my turn to get Y/L/N.” Sam stopped in front of the door to his room, shooting a puzzled look at you. Nat matched his expression but still stepped forward to take your spot next to the man. 
“We both know you’re gonna fall asleep immediately, just like Nat, and if Y/N is going down to the pool, someone needs to stay up to make sure she’s ok.” Steve shoved the key in the door, not bothering to even look in your direction. You met Sam’s gaze but he could only shrug at you as Nat wiggled her eyebrows.
Of course the woman knew about your crush on the ex-Captain, given that it was the one reason you had yet to room with him despite the rotating roommates you agreed to when you went on the run. Your stomach rolled as you tried to come up with any excuse to not walk in that room and have to face the reality of sharing a bed with the man who’s responsible for the mass ruining of your panties. 
The light in the room clicked on just as the door next to yours snapped shut. “Fuck me.” You hiked your duffle bag higher on your shoulder, took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Steve had already dropped his bag on the side of the bed closest to the door and shed the heavy jacket that shielded his toned physique from the world. He barely glanced at you as you entered but you knew his guard was still up, you doubted it had ever come down since what happened at the airport.
“You don’t have to wait up for me. No one else is staying here, the front desk guy said so himself.” You unzipped your bag. 
“It’s my job to look after you.” He retorted. You huffed and started pulling out your clothes in search of the singular bikini you had managed to obtain in your ‘travels’.
“Really? What’s your 401k look like?” Even without seeing it, you knew he was rolling his eyes at you. “Dammit.” You hissed as your fingers brushed the bottom of the bag, no trace of the thin material in sight. 
Steve turned from the desk where he had laid out a map of the area and raised an eyebrow at you. “I lost my swimsuit,” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment, “No hot tub for me I guess.” 
You shoved the empty bag and pile of clothes onto the floor before flopping down onto the bed. “This sucks.”
The desk chair creaked. “Just go in your underwear.”
Your head turned against the sheets, the thick cotton of the duvet brushing against your cheek. Steve was leaned forward, elbows planted firmly on his knees. Dark blue eyes stared right through you and suddenly, you couldn’t remember why you were upset. “Um, yeah I guess. But I don’t have any extra bras at the moment though.” You gestured to your discarded clothes.
Steve’s lip quirked up briefly before settling back into his now usual stern expression. “I’ll wash your stuff for you in the morning.” 
“Since when do you offer to do other people’s laundry?” Your hands slid up to rest beneath your head.
“I’ve been pushing all of you too hard. Maybe I want to start making it up to you.” He leaned back in the chair, the sheer mass of his seeming to grow as he rolled his broad shoulders. Unable to help yourself, you let your eyes trace the sharp muscles of his arms. It had been a long time since he was this relaxed in front of you.
“So maybe there is a bit of America’s Golden Boy still left in there.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to the desk.
“Go, before I change my mind.” You slinked off the bed with a smile. 
“Don’t wait up.” You cooed as the motel door shut behind you.
——————
The silence was a welcome friend. No cars or sirens, just the soft bubbling of the jets and your own happy groans as your body finally unwound. Steam billowed up from the water, disappearing into the night sky, brushing against the stars. The heat bled into your bones and it was all you could do to not melt.
You felt like you could wash away everything from this past year. 
You sank deeper into the water, the gentle ripples now brushed your neck, making you hum in satisfaction.
“Y/N, I was thinking that maybe I could grab some takeout from that 24 hour restaurant we passed a little while back, you hungry?” You lazily looked back over your shoulder just as Steve slipped past the high fence that enclosed the space. You watched as his gaze travelled from your body over to the pile of clothes on the deck, your panties and bra prominently displayed on top.
“Sure, I could eat.” You shrugged, swallowing down a smile at his now blank expression. Steve was frozen in place as the realisation dawned on him.
“Doll.” A shiver ran through you, that was definitely very new. A sudden confidence filled your veins as you watched his Adam's apple bob.
“Steven.” You turned around so that you were now kneeling on the bench, the water now barely covering your breasts. Blue eyes slowly trailed down from your face, following the droplets of water that clung to your skin. “Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’m craving take out.”
The water lapped at your stomach as you sat up. Steve’s eyes immediately darted to your face as a deep blush crawled up his neck. “Doll, what is your underwear doing on the deck?” 
“I think that’s quite obvious Cap.” The muscles in his jaw rolled as his expression grew darker. Heat curled in your stomach. “I didn’t want to get them wet. Well, more wet than they already were.”
“It’s dangerous to be out here alone like this.” He took a tentative step towards you, the lock on the gate clicking shut. 
“Well then, it’s a good thing I have you here to protect me.” You sank back into the water, moving backwards until you could sit on the other side, giving yourself the perfect view of the super soldier. His jacket dropped first, then the ratty baseball cap that covered his darker hair. You bit your lip as his t-shirt followed.
There was a spattering of light hair across his chest, getting thicker and darker along his torso, until it disappeared beneath his pants. His hands interrupted your view but you wouldn’t complain, not when they were undoing his belt. You fought a moan as the button popped open and his fly was slowly drawn down. 
“You gonna join me Cap? The water is just perfect.” The dark material of his jeans slid down and you wondered if Commando was a better fitting title for the man. 
Steve smirked as he stepped into the tub. “I have to look out for you don’t I?” His hands grabbed at your wide hips and tugged you against his body effortlessly. “It is my job.”
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cupidzgf · 9 months
Text
FACETIME | SATORU GOJO
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☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ summary: have you seen those tiktoks with girls talking about how they've been "traumatized" on facetime because their boyfriends said, "keep talking" while secretly getting off to their girlfriend's voice over an innocent call? let me set the scene for you…
contents: mdni, nsfw, afab reader, male masturbation, a little bit of sub satoru, voice kink, basically one-sided phone sex, lmk if i missed anything, w/c: 1.5k
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SATORU lies on facetime with you in the late hours of the night. he's been across the country for the past two weeks due to a cursed womb (or so he says; you never understand what he is talking about). so you two settled for calling one another any night he was available, even though he loved to rub, "aww, did you miss me, sweetheart? i bet you're bedridden with sadness over my departure," in your face.
week two comes to a close on saturday night, and still, he's stuck with another sorcerer he claims "gets in the way of his technique" and is "virtually useless." you try to remind him to be kind, but it goes in one ear and right out the other.
he had already recounted his day to you, albeit tiredly, but he filled you in with the same happy-go-lucky attitude you're used to from his luxurious hotel bed as he turned his attention to you for you to do the same. throughout your recollection of the past three days, he grows increasingly antsy, fidgeting too much for it to be nothing. his phone constantly scrapes against the bed sheets as he adjusts the angle, but you don't comment on it, more focused on how nice it is to talk to him after three days since your last call.
no matter how much gojo is gone, it never ceases to leave a hollow hole in your chest, crawling with pits of negative emotions. knowing bits and pieces of the danger he faces does nothing to ease your worried consciousness over his well-being when he's away. he knows this and does well to accommodate the loneliness and anxiety that follows his absence, ensuing these calls when he can. not that he isn't as obsessed with you as you are with him, but he's more considerate than most people give him credit for.
you continue recounting the details of work and its latest drama, something satoru is usually very attentive to. in his line of work, drama comes in a much different form, which is why you assume that yours is a distraction from his. yet his lack of response begins to raise warning flags. his typically energetic and reassuring demeanor is replaced by eerie silence. questions about his behavior start to filter and infiltrate your scrambling thoughts.
it was easy to assume that it was your fault. maybe he was tired and didn't want to hear you ramble? perhaps he doesn't want to be rude and tell you to shut up? what if you're annoying or boring him? even as he's assured you hundreds of times before how he loves to hear you talk and share your life with him, the insecure part of your mind starts to turn on you with bared teeth and fangs.
as you finish your sentence, a beat of silence passes, and you wait with bated breath for a huff of laughter that never comes. he doesn't respond, heavy breathing filtering through your phone's speakers so quietly you have to strain your ears to hear it. you furrow your eyebrows, biting your nails as the silence stretches on.
"toru?" you softly ask, tilting your phone screen to get a better angle of the dark room staring back at you through the screen. the hotel room provided little in the way of light.
"yeah?" he replies, his voice strained with a tinge of breathlessness.
"are you okay? you're not injured, right?"
a shaky hum vibrates your phone ever so slightly, and you catch a glimpse of his spikes of white hair in the darkness. "yeah…yeah, sweet cheeks, just keep talkin' f'me, alright?" i'm close, goes unspoken, but he's too focused on the sound of your voice that could have only been gifted by the heavens and his hard, leaking cock to dwell further.
it's been two weeks, and he feels like he will go insane before the semi-grade 1 he's supposed to supervise exercises the curse.
suguru had recommended that the kid be moved to a grade 1 sorcerer, which was fine with him. he didn't interact with his juniors often but figured his calmer other half had a plan. why should he care? that was until he'd been put on assignment with him to exorcise a special grade halfway across the country, and suddenly, he cared a whole fucking lot.
it had only been because of suguru and leiri that he didn't whine and complain until they assigned someone else about why he, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, was given something so….so….(suguru hadn't let him finish the sentence before he was given a cold glare). but the old bastards had a way of making his life hell, and now he was left to sleep in a rundown hotel (the kid insisted it was the fanciest thing he'd ever seen), pent-up and irritated out of his mind.
you, however, had been his saving grace when after a particularly long day, you called him. sporting the cute pajama set he likes to smack your ass in, how was he not supposed to find your voice attractive? i mean, come on, he hadn't even had time to jerk off in those two weeks; what was he supposed to do? not as quietly as possible, take his cock out of his pants?
at your end of the call, his out-of-character attitude makes you suspicious. however, for the sake of conversation, you attempt to brush it off until it hits you, and you pause for your next word. "what are you doing?"
silence. you are met with piercing silence and then an unsteady chuckle. you can imagine him shaking his head as he clears his throat uncomfortably. "listening to you, whad'ya ask?"
"you're really quiet…and i can't see you. if you don't want to listen to me, just say so," you murmur softly, delicately even. the next second, there's a poorly concealed grunt, teetering on the edge of a whine. both of you pause at the same time, the humming of the air conditioning outrageously loud in the stillness that follows.
"fuck, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry. i just can't take it anymore." moaning, the vulgar sounds of wet slick fill the air, and it's then the realization comes crashing down.
your jaw slackens, utter shock overtaking your now stiff body. "what the fuck?" you breathe, astonished. "h-how long–"
"since you started talking," he strains, and the familiar build of an orgasm from his hand frantically pumping his length drenched in pre is a lewd sight. spreading his legs further from where he lies on the bed, he whines back, arching as the tightness in his balls makes him feverish, his cock impossibly hard. he's become desperate to hear you speak, pleading for you to give him that push off the edge and into the insanity of release. "oh, fuck, keep going, please--"
"oh my god, you're such a perverted freak! i wasn't doing anything sexual, and you're beating your cock to my voice—"
he knows he's depraved, but cumming to the sound of you degrading him over the phone has to be a new low. especially the way his pent-up release feels like heaven crashing over his body in a tidal wave and sweeping him off his feet. he moans, shuddering with a sweet cry when you gasp in that cute voice of yours as you realize he came.
panting, satoru slumps on the bed, his hand and the bedsheets drenched in his seed. his eyes follow the mess he made to his phone, where spurts of sticky white land where your face is on the screen.
"you're sick." he knows you don't actually mean that. you're just in shock, right? turned on? maybe you'll even take off your pants, and he can get a glimpse of that sweet pussy… "i'm breaking up with you."
satoru is violently ripped out of his lust-filled fantasy as he grabs his phone in a flurry, cringing at how his fingers stick and smear over the metal. "no, no, no, no. i'm sorry, pretty baby; i didn't mean to make you mad."
pouting, a face that he knows garners your sympathy, he attempts to coo his words in a sickly sweet, desperate voice he knows you love. "i've just been so pent up without you and your pussy that i couldn't help myself. you were being so good for me, i couldn't hold it in anymore. :("
he holds the camera to his face, praying it captures not only the sad tone but also his frown and sad eyes of apology. "i'll be better next time, sweet girl, i promise."
your eyes move across your face before you stand and pace around your shared room, rubbing a hand over your eyes. "i hate you," you murmur, and his face lightens up with an ear-splitting grin as you grumble about how he could have at least done it with you. all was forgiven as far as he was concerned.
"ugh, you're disgusting. just… go clean up." sighing, you sit back on the bed, side-eyeing him when he doesn't move.
he perks up, grinning as his following retort comes to mind. "only if you talk me through it."
automated beeps from the now-ended call are the only things that reply.
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genericpuff · 5 months
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There's something that pisses me off in the latest released chapter of LO and that's when Hades says he "forgives" Kronos and says he's doing it so he can heal himself. It's same rhetoric you hear from people who victim blame, telling you that you need to forgive your abuser for your own sake... but the hell would it be for your own sake when you didn't do anything wrong?? Even if you blame yourself for things your abuser did, that still doesn't mean you have to forgive your abuser!!
Someone (in the UnpopularLoreOlympus subreddit, I believe) made a great comparison that Hades forgiving his abusive father is more so just a way for him to forgive himself. Because let's face it, a lot of what Kronos has been responsible for, Hades has also perpetuated in his own cycle of abuse towards others, like Minthe, Alex, nymphs and satyrs in general... and Thanatos, his own adopted son who he still barely acknowledges despite the narrative wanting us to believe that they've "recovered". So by forgiving Kronos, it's more so just him forgiving himself and saying "yeah it's fine that I'm an abusive sack of shit teehee"
This complete lack of self-awareness is to the point that you could replace the Episode 217 dialogue between Hades and Thanatos with the dialogue between Kronos and Hades from 275 and virtually nothing would change.
And if you don't believe me, well...
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And considering the current FP literally has Persephone say to Apollo "I've done terrible things but it doesn't matter because you have to be punished", I think it's safe to say that, at least in her writing (because I obviously can't speak on behalf of whatever she may or may not have gone through in life) Rachel has zero awareness of what it really means to be a recovering victim of abuse.
She definitely loves writing characters who are unironically abusive and think they're not, though.
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