#I needed this you don’t even know thank you also I’m dying

[magicalbats]

Soft Edges (Harumasa x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 3756

Warnings: afab!reader, chronic illness, piv, condoms, angst with porn

⭐

Spring rains bring summer flowers, and the clawing death rattle at the end of the world.

The moisture in the air bothers his lungs. 

You spend some time puttering around in his small kitchenette, preparing a herbal infused tea to help soothe the ache in his throat while he coughs and hacks incessantly in the other room. It makes the one bedroom apartment smell vaguely like an apothecary rather than a hospital bed. 

That seems to come as a relief almost as much as the warm drink does when he sips on it, humming a low sound of appreciation before thanking you for the thoughtful gesture. 

Sitting on the edge of the mattress with him, you study Harumasa for any signs of further deterioration in his condition. There were good days and there were bad days, and today was just unfortunate enough to be one of the latter. The hot tea and its medicinal properties seem to do him some good though. He doesn’t look like he’s in the process of actively dying on you, at least. 

Noticing your lingering stare on him, he lifts his attention to peer over at you. “What? Is there something on my face?” His voice is still a bit raspy. Weak. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, come on. Tell me where it is so I can get it.” His unoccupied hand, the one not currently wrapped around the cup he’s got braced against his knee, comes up to swipe at the corner of his mouth, his cheek. But the knowing twinkle in his eye belies his sincerity and gives him away. 

Laughing despite your best attempt not to, you reach out to gently tug his arm back down. “Stop that. You know I’m just worried about you. It’s not nice to tease me.” 

“But I told you I’m fine, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about.” He assures you, his fingers snatching at yours before you can pull them out of his reach. 

Successfully snagging them, he makes quick work of sliding his palm over yours and fitting the digits together like they were a perfectly aligned puzzle snapping into place. 

And beyond the sterile sanctity of his apartment, the pelting rain buffets at the windows, an incessant staccato played to the tune of the howling wind.  

His skin feels clammy, you notice, and you wonder if you should go get the space heater out of the closet in the hallway. It was almost summer in New Eridu but the rain had brought with it an unseasonable chill that had even made you opt for a hoodie before venturing outside. He was probably feeling it worse than you were. 

“Haru - -“ 

“You don’t need to fret over me so much every time you come over,” He tells you gently, his thumb idly brushing over the back of your knuckles. “No matter how much you may want to be, you’re not actually a nurse you know. And for the better, really.” 

“Why is that?” You ask, earning yourself a softly husking laugh from him. 

“You’re way too cute, for starters. I’d never be able to control myself and I’d get into all sorts of trouble. Can you imagine your patient popping a hard on in the middle of you trying to help them get dressed? You’d hate it too, don’t lie.” 

Rolling your eyes at that, you start to pull away but he holds fast to your hand. The way he snickers, low and quiet, like his lungs couldn’t take anything more than that, almost pulls at your heartstrings enough to distract you from his real angle. But at the same time it’s also an intimately familiar sound that you don’t associate with his illness at all, in so much as you could separate one from the other. He often laughed like that when he was in the process of turning your own body utterly against you. 

Warming at the thought, you shoot him a halfhearted look of warning. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not incapable of dressing yourself then.”

“Mm, perhaps. But I’m afraid that’s not gonna’ stop me from getting a hard on though.”

He throws you a playful wink to go with it and you draw a quick breath to chide him for not taking his health more seriously, for always downplaying his own mysterious maladies. But the words catch in your throat when he suddenly tugs your captured hand across his lap. 

Right into the center is where he presses it, making sure you feel the stirring outline of him through his cozy pajama bottoms. That he’d managed to change into them at all before knocking out under the medicated lull of myriad sleep aids and nervous system suppressing narcotics the night before was likely a small miracle. Sometimes the looming possibility of Harumasa needing help with basic everyday functions like dressing himself did not seem like such a far off what-if.  

It was not yet that day though and he was still in control of his body, at least for the time being. 

Lifting your gaze, you find his eyes underneath the attractively tousled fringe of his bangs where it was slipping forward without the usual headband in place to keep his hair back. He’s smiling at you, a barely there upward curl of his mouth that almost reads of fatigue rather than sly intent. The ghostly suggestion of tension lines on his otherwise blemish free face further solidifies that impression. 

But the way he looks at you speaks volumes, loudly conveying the message of the young man he might have been if he were not so plagued by ill health. He was sickly, yes. There was no getting around that uncomfortable truth no matter how much he tried to write off the severity of it. 

Yet he was by all accounts in the prime of his life, or he should have been anyway. Just a headstrong twenty something with the libido to match. He wanted to live, to experience. You could certainly give him that. 

“Are you sure?” At his nod, you carefully adjust your hand to close your fingers around the slowly stiffening length of him. He breathes a quiet sigh when you squeeze it through the thin layer of his bottoms. Keen and perfectly eager, but as always you were wary about going into it too hard and too fast. Especially after that coughing fit he had earlier … 

“Don’t make that face,” He murmurs. Stretching his arm out to the side, he sets the nearly empty cup on the bedside table right next to the menagerie of prescription pill bottles left out in disarray. “You’re not going to break me or kill me. Promise. I said I’m fine, didn’t I?” 

You think the two of you must have drastically different ideas of what it means to be fine but you don’t say that to him or push the topic any further than that. For his sake as much as for your own. 

And when Harumasa reaches for you, pulling you in against him, you willingly relent and sink happily into the familiar warmth of his lean, athletic frame. He feels sturdy enough that you don’t let your mind linger on it any longer than necessary and instead give yourself over to the searing kiss he presses into your mouth. You trust him to know his own limits, to recognize when something was actually wrong versus when he was just going through a bad flare up or having a shitty day. If he was feeling well enough to initiate this then you were happy to oblige. 

Which was the real crux of it, wasn’t it? The problem with a casual hookup turned long term relationship through some inexplicable means that you still weren’t entirely clear on even to this very day. What should have been a one time exchange somehow became months spent together, and now these sorts of physical exchanges were one of the rare comforts you still had that everything was going to be okay. Somehow, someway, it would all work out in the end. 

Because he certainly doesn’t seem frail and prone to illness when he bodily hauls you up further onto the bed so he can toss you down next to him with an expert flip. Your weight bounces against the mattress once from the momentum and then he’s on top of you, pinning you in place underneath him. The Harumasa you’d met that very first night and the one you make herbal tea for to soothe his throat were sometimes difficult to reconcile in your mind. But there was no mistaking that they were indeed one and the same in moments like this. 

Leaning over you, his mouth meets yours in a slow motion crash, hungry and eager to taste, eliciting a low moan of wanting from you. Kissing him back, you lift your arms to twine them around his neck while his hands slip under your hoodie to feel along your front. The shirt underneath is quickly rucked up to give him access to your chest where he hooks his fingers into the band of your bra, inching it down while his tongue tangles with yours.  

You gladly arch into his touch and your tits slip free to brush against the interior of your sweatshirt unimpeded. The sensation makes you full on shudder. Tearing your mouth away from his, you loose a quaking exhale into the still apartment which he responds to with a soft groan. The sound makes your socked toes curl as he shoves a hard kiss into the soft swell of your cheek, your jaw, then your neck. 

Unable to go any further past the bulk of the hood gathered around your throat, Harumasa pushes back just enough to give himself room to work. Grabbing the hem and shoving it up to bunch under your chin, he quickly brings his hands back down to slip them into your stretchy leggings next. Your achingly stiff nipples strain in the open air now, making the growing knot in your lower stomach tighten even more. 

A new buzzing thrum of anticipation runs through you as you lift your hips up off the bed, allowing him the space needed to yank them down your legs. They’re immediately discarded as soon as he’s got them off, carelessly tossed to the floor before he crawls back up to cover your body with his again. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, lowering himself to his elbows so he can fully cage you in. His mouth finds its way to yours as if pulled by some invisible string and you drag your hands down his lithe frame while you exchange another heated kiss. 

Sliding underneath the rumpled back of his long sleeved shirt, your fingers quickly locate the top band of his pants and tug. The two of you are pressed too tight together in a tangle of limbs, slowly grinding against one another, for you to pull them more than half of the way down. That’s decidedly fine though, and you take to gently kneading over the exposed strip of his ass with encouraging squeezes that just make him press into you even harder. 

The outline of his cock is rigid and unrelenting where it digs against you, moulding your panties to the shape of your labia. You’re eager for the friction of his cock moving inside you, flesh sliding against warm, sticky flesh, and you can tell he is too. Yet he doesn’t rush it and instead takes his time savoringly rolling his hips as if to drag it out and make it last just that little bit longer. 

Or, an unhelpful voice in the back of your mind suggests, maybe this slow tempoed pace is all he can handle right now. 

That chilling thought curbs any impulse you might have to speed things up and take your pleasure from him, allowing Harumasa to set the pace while you simply follow his lead. The first night you’d met after a brief exchange of text messages you’d wrestled with him for dominance in this very bed to see who would come out on top. Now, however, you’re pliant and perfectly in tune with the signals of his body, lessening the demanding pressure of your hands when his breath starts to become a bit too labored. 

Groaning a shuddering noise of appreciation, he nudges himself down to your chest where he covers one pert nipple with his mouth. A roughly calloused palm comes up to grab and pinch at the other while he suckles your teat to aching attention, using his lips and his tongue to lave at the bud. His pulse soon seems to even out again and the shallow contractions of his chest become not quite so dramatic. Still, you worry about him. 

“You should switch me spots, Haru.” You tell him gently as you thread your fingers through his soft, silken hair, cradling him to your breast. “Let me be on top this time.” 

Harumasa comes up off your tit to shoot you an overly confident smirk, one you’re not quite sure he can back up right now. But you don’t protest or tell him to stop when he reaches between you to fist at his pants, shoving them down in the front to let his cock spring loose. “That won’t be necessary. Really, I had no idea I was dating such a mother hen. I’m not made of glass, babe.” 

A mournful chord curls through you, dousing the knotted heat in your stomach by some small margin. 

At the same time the rain picks up outside as if mirroring the tumultuous rising current of emotion in your chest. It smacks at the windows so hard they begin to rattle in their frames, thunder booming loudly somewhere in the not far off distance. The storm was getting worse. You hope the electricity doesn’t go out. 

“I know you’re not.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Keeping his tone light and playful, Harumasa stretches over you to pull open the bedside table drawer. A condom is quickly located and pulled out, the foil wrapper crinkling lightly when he starts to rip it open. “Even if I was on my deathbed I think I could still make you scream. I wouldn’t underestimate me if I were you.” 

“Please don’t joke like that.” You snip back at him, not finding it even remotely funny. But he just laughs another low snickering sound as rolls the flesh colored rubber over his stiff cock almost down to the base. Feeling a mild pang of remorse, you draw a careful breath and say much more gently, “You don’t have to wear those if you don’t want to, Haru. I told you I’m taking birth control.” 

Humming a quiet sound, he gives himself a brief pump of his hand over the latex before settling between your legs once again, his hips nudging close to line up with yours. “Don’t worry about it. This is just fine.” 

You’re not so sure you believe that. But for as long as you've known him he’s always been adamant about using protection and you don’t understand his reasons enough to really argue against it. He’d said once he just didn’t want to take any risks or run the chance of leaving you worse off than when you’d met him. You hadn’t been sure what to make of that then and you still don’t know what to make of it now.

There were a great many things about Harumasa that remained a mystery to you though, like what exactly was wrong with him, what his diagnosis was. No matter how you posed the question he was never outright or forthcoming about that either. And while it bothered you sometimes, undeniably so, you’d found that your feelings for him were much too tender for you to push him on such topics. He’d tell you when and if he was ever ready. 

So you reach up and take him into your arms, pulling him against your chest while he tugs your panties to the side with his thumb. His mouth angles towards yours on a steady, unfaltering trajectory and he kisses you deeply, sinking into you with a stilted sigh of relief. 

The weight of his body coming to rest on top of you prods the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing in on clinging, sticky viscous arousal. You’re keenly aware of the heat of him even through the barrier of the condom and you issue a faint moan against his lips as your legs come up to lock around his waist. The careful squeeze you give him has Harumasa sinking inside you, slowly stretching your inner sleeve to the now familiar shape and size of him. 

Another teeth rattling peel of thunder sounds right overhead, as if the very center of the storm was hovering directly above the building. Perhaps it was watching the scene play out, its destructive energy growing and cresting in time with your pleasure while the two of you move in tandem with each other. Or maybe it had taken offense to the measly little ants getting it on first thing in the morning instead of bowing down and cowering in the face of its mighty wrath. 

Or maybe — just maybe, it was trying to warn you. One of you, both of you. You or him. It was impossible to say when the notion itself was so ludicrous but you can’t quite shake the feeling of existential uncertainty that sits like a lead weight in your gut now. 

It feels good having him thrust inside of you, just like you’d known it would. If you were only a bit more naive, in fact, you might have almost thought Harumasa had been made for you, and you him, given the way he seems to rub against every single pleasure inducing nerve ending along the way. You can’t help but grow wetter for him, tightening for him when your muscles eagerly clench down on the steel of his galvanized length. And you freely moan into his mouth where he’s still kissing you between soft rattling groans but … 

Why was he so dead set on using condoms even at this casually crucial junction of the relationship, after all these months spent together in sickness and in health? Did he not trust you? Did he think you were lying about the birth control and he simply wanted to avoid being stuck with you indefinitely? 

Or — could it actually be that the problem lies with him, resting squarely on his shoulders rather than yours? Did he fear what taking that final step would mean, what the end result of it might manifest when he was always prone to bad bouts of illness? 

Was the looming possibility of the existential end really so close that he needed to worry about such things? 

This was no way for a twenty something to live, and you cling to him all the more fervently for it, desperately clutching him to you like a lifeline. You wanted to save him but you don’t know how, so you open your body to him instead. Shelter, comfort and peace; the safe haven of flesh and blood, and heated breaths swapped back and forth between two locked mouths. 

And Harumasa gladly loses himself in you as if in chasing his release he could also escape the cold, bony fingers that hover just out of reach behind him. His flexing hips quicken, smacking into you with abandon now, and he sobs a frantic moan that you greedily swallow, taking it into yourself before feeding it back to him. 

His skin is so clammy under your hands. Like even the flush of arousal couldn’t completely disperse the chill that’s taken up root in him, and your heart skips a harrowing beat when his labored breaths suddenly turn thick with choking little gasps. His chest positively heaves against yours as your hands fly up to take his cheeks between your palms, carefully pushing him back just enough to look into his face. 

Expression wretched, Harumasa whimpers a low sound as if in apology while his pace slows to a weak crawl, almost a total standstill. He doesn’t completely stop fucking into you though, his cock stiffly nudging through your slick inner sleeve at such a stilted, uneven rhythm you know finishing like this will be impossible for you. But that doesn’t really matter now. It’s the very least of your concerns as you softly shush him, cooing gentle reassurances that make him screw his eyes shut as if he were in pain. 

He barely manages to reach his peak before the coughing takes hold of him again. It doubles him over and makes him collapse on top of you where he proceeds to shove his face into the pillow next to your head. You’re only distantly aware of his cock flexing within you and filling the tip of the condom with impotent seed, the vast majority of your attention fixed on the way he hacks and wheezes through the fit that assails him. It bows his spine into a dramatic, worrying hunch which you gently try to smooth out with your hand. It’s no use though. He can’t seem to get it under control. 

“Harumasa, let me help you.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He croaks, very clearly not fine. 

Sucking in a sharp, clawing breath that seems to rip his throat on the way down, he slowly manages to rouse himself enough to pull out and roll off of you. You’re quick to follow him though, pushing up to your elbow so you can look down at him while your hand continues to ineffectively rub over his shuddering back. He sounds like he’s going to cough out a lung. The thought of calling for an ambulance momentarily crosses your mind but you know how he feels about the hospital. Only if it’s an actual emergency, he’d once told you. 

But how the hell were you supposed to know when that line had been crossed? 

Unsure what else to do, you lean further over him so you can reach down and carefully help him take the used condom off. It’s a difficult task in this position, when he’s half curled over on his side like this, still struggling to get his breathing under control, but you manage, somehow. Just like with everything else, you try to make it work. 

And outside the unsympathetic storm rages on. 

⭐

Crossposted: here

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of death and health issues (but it’s in a relatively positive light, for once!)

[mattyriddlesbitch]

One where Theo decides to share you with his friends for night letting them achieve have a turn while he’s teasing you the whole time and when they all leave he takes you for one more round claiming you as his (I’d melt for this man) 🤗🫠

I hope this works! Thank you!

The Only One

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Gang bang basically, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, oral(male receiving), cream pie.

18+ Minors DNI

You don’t even remember how this all started. You just know Theo’s sat behind you while you laid back on him, his hands holding your legs apart while he kisses your neck. His friends are taking turns fucking you. Theo warned you not to cum, even while his hands explored you, teasing your nipples, playing with your clit, your own hands holding onto his thighs.

First was Lorenzo, sweet talking and praising you while he fucked your pussy. Theo gave your clit a harsh slap when he could see how close you were before Lorenzo pulled out and came on you.

Next was Blaise, his thrusts were a little harsher while he complimented you. Theo was whispering in your ear about how good you’re doing, but also how horrible it’ll be if you cum before his turn. You were trying to focus on his words rather than Blaise so you don’t orgasm. Blaise finally pulled out and came on you as well, his cum mixing with Lorenzo’s.

Theo moved you to prop on all fours, Draco moving in front of you to have you take his cock in your mouth while Mattheo positioned himself behind you to fuck your cunt. Mattheo and Draco were praising you for taking them so well while Theo was watching, this time telling you how much of a slut you are for eagerly taking two cocks at once. That was making it really difficult not to cum while Mattheo was fucking you roughly, forcing you down on Draco’s dick. Draco came in your mouth and Mattheo came on your back.

Covered in cum and exhausted, you collapsed on the bed while Theo forced everyone out.

“You like being fucked by all my friends?” Theo asked as he climbed onto the bed with you, turning you on your back. “Like me watching you get fucked and not letting you cum? See the control I have on you, even when I’m not the one fucking you?” He gently caressed your cheek.

You gave a nod as you stared up at him.

“Don’t tell me they fucked you so dumb you can’t even answer.” He tsked, his hands sliding down your body to push your legs to your chest.

“No, I can answer.” You said, shaking your head.

“Guess that lets me be the one to fuck you dumb, yeah?” He smirked, pushing his cock through your folds, coating it in your arousal. “Only I can fuck you dumb, huh?”

“Yes, Theo. You’re the only one.” You nodded, watching his dick lazily glide between your legs.

“You only cum on my cock, understand?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded again, biting your lip when his cock rubbed against your clit.

“Good girl.” He praised before pushing his dick into you, putting your legs onto his shoulders.

You moaned, gripping at the sheets below you as he bottomed out. He started thrusting, reaching around to grip the hair on the back of your head to pull your head back. The slight sting from him pulling your hair only made you moan louder.

“That’s right, cara mia. Only I can make you feel this good.” He said, finishing his sentence with his own moan. “You feel so good, principessa. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” He said before kissing along one of your calves on his shoulder.

“It’s so good! You feel so good! Fuck!” You cried out.

“You finally ready to cum? I know you’ve been dying to all night, bella.” He said, tilting your head back up to look at him.

“Yes! Please! I need to cum, Theo!” You gave your best nod, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.

“Look at me when you cum, principessa.” He said, keeping his grip on your hair to keep you looking at him.

You came with a loud cry of his name, clawing at the sheets as he helped you finish it out.

“That’s it. Love how you scream my name, cara mia. Fuck!” He groaned, his own orgasm hitting him as he came deep inside you. “All fucking mine, right, bella?” He asked as he relaxed your legs back onto the bed.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamre @mattheoriddlesbitch

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[cryptfile]

★ kinktober file 01 — wandering star, d. winchester

based on this request here, fem! reader, 18+ mdni, warnings of established relationship, degradation, dumbification, edging, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, english is not my first lenguage (thank god!) any mistakes? i’m not sorry for it, feel free to hit me up with requests in my inbox to keep kinktober going! <3 also, dividers by @cafekitsune!

He’s cocky after a hunt goes the way he wants.

Dean Winchester’s always a damn headache after a sucessful solved case. He gets in this mood where he feels invincible and well, he just feels like he could win the lottery if he puts his mind into it.

Sam’s done by the time you guys are in the next town, checking into another cheap motel. The older Winchester has been a damn pain in the ass the whole ride so the first thing he does when you guys ask for separate rooms? Ditch the problem to you.

“He’s your boyfriend,” he’d say, obviously done with his sassy attitude as he left to his own private space — Sacred space he values since you appeared. “You deal with him.”

You love your boyfriend that’s for sure but after a hunt? Your muscles are sore, you feel like you’re going to get sick and on top of all? You been dying for a hot shower and bed.

Dean’s plans are way different, cause by the time Sam leaves saying he’s going to buy burgers in any open restaurant, he’s all over you. Literally.

“Why are you so needy?” you ask furrowing your brows, he’s in a good mood now that he survived a violent ghost who’s bones you had to burn, and honestly, it doesn’t make any sense: The rush of adrenaline? The near death experience? Usually he’s deep in his third dream by now, but that night? He got this grin in his face when he’s pushing you to the motel bed despite any response he could recieve—. “Dean.”

“Just want to make m’lady feel on cloud nine,” he says, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin of your neck, a fight you cannot possibly win. “Can I do that? Take care of my girl?”

Thing is, deep down, you don’t want to win any fight. Not that one at least when Dean’s pulling you to the edge of the bed, unblucking his belt as he lets the fabric of his jeans fall to the floor, he’s craving you ever since you pulled this show up in the morning when you said there was no time to shower together since the case was so important. Naked, standing in a foggy bathroom: You won’t let him have you? Not even ten minutes? Fucking unfair.

He can do a lot in ten. You do love it even when it’s rushed, when Sam’s pushing on the other side of the door screaming something about being late, his only goal is to take whatever he needs, so in ten minutes he can do plenty. He can kneel on the slippery floor, filthy thoughts as he helps you lift up your leg — “Such a pretty pussy, already dripping for me?” he would said, the sound of his voice imprinted in your memory. The warm water burns on your skin as he uses a hand to spread you open, buring his face in your cunt without a previous warning.

Even under the shower he makes you sweat. Dean’s damn skilled so he knows what spot he needs to hit to get you there, the wet sounds that fill the bathroom on random mornings — He knows you’re getting there when his digits finally fill you up in a way you can even describe, his tongue lapping over your clit, taking his time, savouring each sound he manages to get out of you, the way you say his name when he’s nose-deep in what he claims belongs to him.

And god you’re a mess. A fucking mess every single time.

“You owe me,” Dean says confident, “We solve the case, job done here. I want your full attention now.”

He has it soon after. Every ounce of it.

He’s not patient enough to play with you before like he would do in the morning, in the dirty motel you’re now at the hunter would mumble something about not giving a single fuck about preparing you cause you’re already wet enough for him, something about being already used to his size cause he’d fucked you plenty of times before, that your warm and tight cunt is already prepared for him cause you’ve been his for months, convinced that you can take him. No problem at all.

“You were such a bitch to me this morning,” he says, pushing your cheek against the matress, not caring enough about your comfort as he forces himself inside you, muffling the sounds of your moans as he places his hand on your mouth, keeping you in place—. “Do you have any idea of how hard is to concentrate on a ghost when all I can think is to have you beneath?”

He’s rough when he’s needy, straight up filthy as he lets his primal desires take over. Dean forgets about it all. His hand collides against your ass a couple of times, spanking hard enough so the skin is red to be visibly noticiable, to make you think about another pain more than the one you felt as he’s finally buried inside you.

“Atta girl” he praises, leaning to place kisses on your shoulders, giving you just enough time to adjust— “Lookin’ so pretty when full of my cock.”

He enjoys the view so much. So damn much Dean chuckles for a second, almost proud of the mess he’s done with you, always so damn tight, already clenching on his dick as you squirm desesperate to move. He got you where he wants you to be.

“Move that nice ass for me,” he says seconds after, demanding you to take him faster as he moves you at the rythm he needs—. “That’s it, fuck yourself pretty witch, work for it.”

“Dean,” you whine, the sound distant thanks to his fingers covering your mouth— “Dean-please”

“What are you begging for?” he chuckles, the sound of his laugh making your skin shiver as his hips buckle up to meet the pace you’ve been setting— “My girl is dumb for my cock already? Only a few minutes in and my baby is talking nonsense?”

He’s giving you exactly what you need, that nice pace as he grabs you by the tights, fingers buried in your skin as his movements become more erratic, desesperate as the time passes.

Dean waits. Cause he can be a cruel son of a bitch sometimes, drive you fucking mad cause he knows when’s you’re close to release, when you’re ready to cum as he slides his cock off, leaving you hollow as you loudly gasp.

“What the actual-fuck?” you ask clearly annoyed, looking over your shoulder as he offers you a sly grin—. “Dean, what the fuck?”

“We are goint to work in some manners here,” he says, grabbing you by the hair, roughly pulling your head to the side so he can look at your face while speaking—. “Cause you’re not doing to me what you did in the morning ever again. Teasing me all fucking day, acting all innocent about it. No. You’re gonna cum when I say so. And we’re gonna start all over again ‘till that big brains of yours finally gets it: No more leaving Dean Winchester all hard in the bathroom.”

next kinktober file [ art donaldson ] // masterlist

[palms-upturned]

I’m late to this whole debacle but for the record, I have been messaged by people in Gaza who thought that I was involved in the fundraiser vetting process and sent me photos of their government IDs and documentation. I know a little of what Hussein, Nairuz, Ahmed, Ibtisam, and others use to vet people and make sure that they’re legit, and that’s part of why I confidently cite them as a source. To try and discredit them and smear them as scam artists, along with the genocide victims that they’re trying so hard to help, is fucking beyond the pale.

The reason I’ve been inactive on this blog and focusing instead on compiling resources in order to bring more ppl onto the fundraiser blog is that the work I was doing was spiraling into a 12-hour a day endeavor with just myself, and it was making me so physically and mentally ill that I could barely move or think, so I had to step back and figure out a better way to organize things. And I’m not even doing the actually hard part of this work. I do not vet people. I do not have any skin in this game as a white USAmerican. It’s not my family who are dying in Gaza. I also have not been targeted for harassment or account bans. I literally cannot fucking fathom the physical and mental strain that Palestinian bloggers on this platform have been going through nonstop for nearly a year now.

I still remember being shocked when I saw that Hussein had come back to tumblr after having to take a break due to having a heart attack. Ibtisams, who vetted people and organized all sorts of fundraising efforts all while grieving her father and little sister killed in Gaza, was forced to come back to tumblr to make a statement about how she was in an inpatient facility because people had the gall to impersonate her in order to scam people. Ahmed literally escaped Gaza because of a very well documented fundraising effort here on tumblr, no thanks to the cunts at GoFundMe who made things as difficult as possible every step of the way, and has since spent time and effort helping other people who had hopes of sharing his success. Calling these people scammers is fucking unbelievable. Some of you wouldn’t know solidarity if it bit you in the ass.

If getting messages in your inbox from people trying to escape a genocide makes you uncomfortable, fucking suck it up. Or disable your inbox, I guess. Do literally anything else besides using your platform to direct harassment and slander at people who are trying to survive a genocide. This website is already quite literally engaging in tech apartheid by targeting users in Gaza so constantly, you don’t need to gleefully join in by tagging staff and asking them to terminate people. Fucking unconscionable behavior. I hope that it will follow everyone involved for the rest of their lives.

[moonstruckme]

Hii

I have a knee injury right now and it's really annoying cause I'm a dancer and I can barely walk right now let alone dance and I really wanted a fic if that's okay. So reader (like me) is really annoyed about her injury and Sirius or James (I don't mind which one) help her. Could you also include something about them piggybacking her up the stairs (cause I cannot go up stairs right now without dying in pain)

Thanks in advance sweets

Thanks for requesting lovely, hope you're feeling better!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 481 words

James comes into the living room and catches you red-handed with the broom and dustpan. 

He freezes, setting his hands on his hips and releasing a breathless guffaw. “Good lord, you’re tenacious.” 

“I thought,” you wheedle, “that since you’re working so hard mopping the kitchen, I could sweep in here so it’s easier when you’re ready to do this part.” 

“And I thought,” counters James, crossing the space between you in a few long strides, “that we agreed you’d rest and let me handle it.” He makes up for the snark with a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before pushing you down onto the couch by your hips. “Turn over the broom, angel.” 

You sigh, holding it out for him. “Agreed is a bit of a stretch.” 

“Your knee and I seem to be in agreement.” He stamps another conciliatory kiss on your head, firm and ardent. “I can see on your face that it’s hurting you. Just give it a bit, stop pushing yourself so hard.” 

“As if you get to talk,” you snipe after him as he goes back to the kitchen. He’d pulled a muscle in his shoulder a few weeks ago, and he’d still insisted on carrying all your groceries himself and lifting heavy things down from tall shelves like recovery was some sort of competition. 

James pretends not to hear you. 

You sigh, big and loud and dramatic, and you hear his quiet laughter from the kitchen. 

“Sorry,” he calls. “Suck it up. I never do my fair share of the chores anyway.” 

“Will you at least bring me the laundry to fold?” 

A beat, and you hear him swing open the door to where the dryer has just finished. “Sure,” he agrees. 

A minute later, your boyfriend is pouring a basket of warm laundry over you on the couch. You smile contentedly, bathed in warmth and softness, until the warm clothes on your abdomen remind you of another concern.

“Um, James?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

James sets down the laundry basket, dark brows weaving together bemusedly. “What for?” 

“I have to pee.” 

And the toilet is upstairs.

“Oh.” His expression clears. As much as you sort of wish he would treat this part like a chore, he loves doing this for you. “No worries.” 

He turns around and squats down. Doesn’t even give you the opportunity to hop onto his back, only grabs your thighs and straightens back up with a quiet grunt. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, adjusting so you’re wrapped more securely around him. 

As James starts up the stairs, he squeezes one of your thighs teasingly in his big hand. “Hope you weren’t holding it on my account. You know you don’t need to apologize for asking for a lift, I don’t mind.” 

“No, I know,” you admit. “I think you may like it a bit too much, actually.” 

Your boyfriend only hums. “Mayhaps.” 

[luvf4ngz]

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly. 

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention. 

 "You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed. 

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him. 

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was. 

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.” 

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?” 

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention. 

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice." 

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied. 

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now. 

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle. 

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen. 

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch. 

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event. 

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things. 

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned. 

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?” 

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance. 

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest. 

This was a much better use of his time. 

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast. 

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands. 

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page. 

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you. 

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.” 

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?” 

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body. 

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.” 

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this. 

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!” 

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand. 

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.” 

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing. 

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.” 

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes. 

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm. 

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist. 

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming. 

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher. 

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping. 

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out. 

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter. 

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you. 

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation. 

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you. 

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one. 

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly,  and he never wants to stop hearing your voice. 

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?” 

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body. 

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you. 

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed. 

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame. 

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. 

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins. 

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud. 

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face. 

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub. 

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could. 

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths. 

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason. 

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him. 

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you. 

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard. 

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him. 

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you. 

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break. 

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue. 

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins. 

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia. 

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew. 

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in. 

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole. 

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore. 

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small. 

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his. 

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips. 

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh. 

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again. 

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt. 

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms. 

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over. 

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat. 

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask. 

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”  

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers. 

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. 

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language. 

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting. 

He’s…. big. 

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance. 

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists. 

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter. 

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again. 

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother. 

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside. 

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos. 

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him. 

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.” 

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble. 

“Isn’t it?” He grins. 

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock. 

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come. 

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body. 

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust. 

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins. 

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat. 

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls. 

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once. 

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp. 

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder. 

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”  

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.” 

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred. 

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him. 

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly. 

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

[ghostykapi]

need to take this stress off (this stress off)

hirai momo & fem!reader // oopz i made it spicy ehe! // mentions of a lil jealous momo n like also a background jealous sana over dubu ehe!

momo swears she must have won the lottery to have you as her girlfriend

ever since meeting you, momo has been nothing but spoiled. may it be gifts, affection, time and love it doesn’t matter, a simple smile and you’re already doing anything and everything for her

it’s cute, the way you’re wrapped around her finger and the way you don’t bother denying it. why would you? you don’t even blink when they say you are a simp

it’s because they don’t know how much you’ve wrapped momo around your fingers and how much willing she is to worship you

nayeon can, unfortunately, attest to that

“y/n” the eldest is stressed at the way you are giggling, because she knows that you will cause trouble with that outfit you are wearing “we have work today”

“i also have work today” you pout, but nayeon smacks your arm out of stress “wha-hey! i can’t be the only one wearing cute outfits”

“yes but you have control” nayeon stresses her words, making sure it gets stuck in your head “momo has no self control when it comes to you”

“she’s going to be fine i swear!” you huff, though she knows deep down your intentions are different “she’s a big girl, she can handle herself”

“noooooo she literally can’t unless she’s on stage”

“she will have to make do, i have to look cute while working y’know. i may work as a day bartender but i will always be a cute day bartender”

nayeon is still groaning in protest, knowing how much momo will be distracted when you walk in the practice room, because you always drop food from the restaurant you work at on the dot every practice day

“don’t you have a uniform to wear?” nayeon asks, watching you dust down your skirt. it’s not short but because it’s paired with a cropped shirt that showcases your stomach and that new shiny belly piercing you have, she thinks that you’re looking too good for momo to handle

“yeah well today is the one day i’m free from the uniform rule. won a bet at work and now i’m cashing in” you giggle, and she thinks you are up to no good “anyway please step aside unnie i want to give you guys lunch and give my girlfriend a kiss”

“ffuuuuckking hell fine” nayeon gives up, letting you in and promptly causing all of twice to look over who just walked in the door.

you simply blink at the members who resume ‘fighting’ on the ground as you bring over bags full of lunch, to the couches, where momo gawks at you and your outfit. her words dying as she stares at you, too stunned at your outfit to even say anything

nayeon is right beside you getting lunch out of the boxes, eye rolling at how her roommate is acting.

you better not, nayeon’s mouths at momo over your back, we still have to practice the formation so you better not do what ever you think you want to do

“y/n!” dahyun appears right beside you, whistling at the boxes of food “thank you for bringing over food again”

“no problem dubu” you smile, ignoring momo’s staring, and the fact that dahyun’s seemingly a bit closer than usual. does she have the same intentions as you? “oh! i got you that drink you wanted too, you know the chocolate milk mixed with berries drink. i think i got the recipe dialed down so—”

you stop your rambling when you feel dahyun hug you, which is much appreciated, but you just got (1) caught off guard and (2) dahyun is wearing a short skirt and a tight top that she is using as a magnet for sana

“thank you unnie!” you’re blushing as you realize what she’s trying to do, especially with how (1) close she is, (2) how her lips are dangerously close to yours and (3) she has her hands on your exposed tummy oh god why does twice have such pointy nails–

“dahyunnie” “sweetheart”

whatever is happening though is immediately stopped, as momo and sana approach the both of you. where momo picks you up bridal style once sana manages to pull dahyun away. you swear you saw sana and momo have the same expression before it was wiped out with either a faux smile and a more sinister one

“emergency” momo says as you are carried out by her. her very strong arms carrying you away from twice, whom half are amused and the other half either stressed or confused on what just happened

sana hums at her best friend’s behavior before wrapping her arms around dahyun, whispering to her what kind of treatment she will get when she drags dahyun to her apartment.

the rest of twice watches as dahyun turns extremely red before requesting to finally eat lunch

you on the other hand are just so happy, because momo flags down a taxi, brings you inside and tells the driver to book it towards your apartment.

despite the earlier display, you were the one who puts her hand on your thigh, you’re the one who whispers to her all the things she can do when she gets home, she’s the one who takes in shaky breaths and smiles because goodness momo just looks so cute

despite the multiple texts of nayeon of i told you momo is unhinged when it comes to you, you laugh as you get dragged by momo towards inside your apartment and into your room.

momo is nothing but spoiled by you, so when you pull away from her advances, she starts whining and pouting

“no. you had practice today darling” you push her against the bed, making momo gulp at how sexy you look right now. “and i had work today. the manager only lets me out for 1 hour and you decide that i clock in out early? tsk tsk”

“you know better baby” you continue, but the smirk you wear and the way momo’s teeth are aching you both know whatever ‘scolding’ you have is pointless “so impulsive”

“please” momo lets you open her mouth, your thumb pressing down on her teeth, that brings out a whimper from her “please”

you coo, removing your thumb from her mouth before she can even try to suck on it

“awh baby you must be aching” her eyes are begging for any signal for her to go ahead, to do anything you both want and more

momo is desperate. you love her like this, proves to show how much you both need each other

“what are the magic words?”

“please” she gently grabs one of your hands that rests on her cheek and gives it a kiss “pretty girl please let me”

you kiss her, basically letting her loose. letting her fulfill whatever you promised her in that taxi

“you’re getting eager” you are delighted by the way she’s all over you, her hands sliding under your pathetic excuse of a shirt and bra, playing with the piercings you got just weeks ago “my pretty eager girl”

momo doesn’t bother replying, her mouth too preoccupied biting, nipping and sucking on the skin of your neck. your nails digging in the skin of her back, your eyes struggling to focus on the ceiling as she manhandles you like a toy

teeth aching and ready to do more, you feel her rip out whatever you are wearing. that actually shocks you, because you realize how flimsy cloth can be in your girlfriend’s strong hands, especially knowing she works out when she can

so by the time you’re just basically in your panties, you gently pull her by her hair

“ah ah ah” you gently push her away and standing up, the whine that escapes her mouth makes you even more wet “get rid of your clothes. wear a strap, pick which one you like baby, i wanna make sure you know who i belong to”

it takes her a few seconds to scramble to get rid of her clothes and to grab the pink glittery strap that’s just conveniently there, her mind only thinking of you

“cute” momo is so obedient, back to sitting, the only difference is that she has that glittery pink thick strap on her and you know that thing is going to break you

so you grant whatever she has been pleading. letting her get rid the last of what you are wearing, gently combing your hair as you lube up the strap and gently sink down on it. both of you gently moaning out the moment you fully take it all in, one in awe and one out of bliss

you control the pace by taking it slow. grabbing momo’s hands and letting them wherever you want them to stay on. whispering sweet words of praise at how good she is for letting you control her, how good she is for saying please, how much she deserves your mouth on her cunt after you are satisfied

it drives momo crazy, so much so that she gently thrusts her hips up at every praise, making you bit by bit up your own pace. suddenly you’re full on bouncing on her strap, panting and moaning at how it feels so amazing

“that’s it” momo is drooling over this view, the way you’re bouncing on her with your eyes hazy and the shiny piercings on your tits hypnotizing her “fucking bounce on me jus’ like that sweet girl”

you can feel the strap starting to break your mind, and it gets worse with the way momo is smirking, hips snapping up to meet yours. the slick already covering her hips and spreading to her abs making you absolutely more feral than you need to be

there’s a shift in the air, and all of the sudden momo has the control now

“look at you” she’s taunting you and yet she’s using one of her hands to draw slow tight circles on your clit, forcing you to start moaning louder and lose a bit of your rhythm “such a pretty fucking girl on top of me making a mess”

you can’t even comprehend that it’s coming to you like a truck, so when you snap, your back bends, eyes rolling too far back, thighs shake and you let out a choked up moan. momo’s quick to get a hold of you, pulling you against her, chest to chest, and continue to fuck you with animalistic speed

“oh no no no you don’t get to relax” she’s too feral for your own good, because now she’s got your back on the bed, you’re clinging and scratching unto her shoulders, her hips drilling deliciously more and more “my good girl doesn’t get to relax, oh no, she has to get fucked-mmph!-into oblivion!”

“please!” you wail, begging for something you don’t even know, your mind barely clinging on “baby–fuuuckkk–please let me–mph!–let me take a quick breather please please please”

“i can’t stop baby, you just look so good for me” she’s not stopping, only kissing you to silence your moans “sound so delicious for me, i think i need to eat you out after this hmm? would you let me pretty girl? you don’t want me to starve do you hm?”

“n-no i” you are so close again, the pleasure doubling up as you keep on going higher and higher “i’m so close please just let me cum again please”

she grants you what you want, that leads you to scream out, her lips messily locking against yours to muffle the moans, her hips rocking out the orgasm and her hands rubbing your sides to help you calm down when she pulls back

“my woman” you hear her whisper “my amazing sexy woman”

when you finally have the energy to properly take a look at her, you notice that she’s still slowly rocking that strap that’s inside of you. the slow movements and the hands that are placed on your hips only tell one thing

“my stunning girl”

her turn to be mean and ruin you

[filmbyjy]

ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

EIGHTEEN – the first petal

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WC: 0.9K words

a/n: please note there is a written part after these 6 pictures!! don't forget to read it because it is part of something important.

“breathe.” yvette says as she pats your back. it was suffocating. the sink was bloodied up, splatters of blood that you had coughed up in a span of 5 minutes. mae runs in with a bottle in her hands.

“here, drink up.” she quickly opens the bottle up and hands it over to you. you took the bottle and quickly drank it.

“why didn’t you tell us it was this bad. we obviously knew that jake was your soulmate but we didn’t think that your body would react this way.” yvette looks at you.

“you’d honestly think that this disease would be a mythical thing but it is very much true.” mae says. you felt the tears fall down your face. yvette wipes them for you. she looks at you with such pity and such care.

“man, fuck that bitch.” she declares. “making such a sexy girl cry? not very girl’s girl coded of her.”

“she doesn’t know. i don’t think jake would tell her. besides, he doesn’t even know i’m his soulmate.”

“well, i think she would find out either ways. she’s such a weirdo.” mae huffs. yvette nods.

“what are you going to do?” yvette asks.

“live with it.”

“but you’re going to cough out blood if you keep seeing them so loving and disgusting.”

“it’s okay. once it gets worse, i’ll just get the surgery.”

“to remove your feelings? (name), you can’t seriously be thinking of doing this.” mae sighs. “i’ve seen people decide to go through with the surgery, they aren’t like themselves. once you do it, there will also be complications in the end. you won’t live for long.”

“there is no other way. if end up dead then so be it. i can’t let jake know. he’s very much in love with aria. he would never love me.” you sobbed. yvette pulls you closer and keeps you in her arms.

“hey hey, let’s not talk about death. you’re alive and well right now. let’s live your life to the fullest and make the best out of it. you aren’t dying.” she mutters. mae grabs your hand and lightly squeezes it.

“yeah, who cares about jake and aria. you have sunghoon, your friends, your brother and us. we are there for you.”

you were thankful for the people who were close to you. you had wiped your tears and nodded. “you’re right.”

there were a series of knocks at the bathroom door. yvette rolls her eyes and opens the door. “we’re having a sentimental moment here.”

“sorry, girls. just checking in to see if (name) is okay.” jay says.

“that or are you already missing mae?” yvette folds her arms. jay awkwardly laughs a little.

“maybe but i’m more concerned for my best friend of course.” you laughed a little and sniffled. you pushed mae forward towards jay.

“take her oh my god. you find out she’s your soulmate and you can’t stop being away from her.”

jay shrugs. sunghoon steps forward and hugs you.

"I'm not dying, hoon."

"just let me hug you. you need it." he says. your smile falters a little. "you can cry, you know?"

"i already cried just now."

"and? you can cry again and I wouldn't judge."

"I know you won't, hoon."

your brother comes up to you. "okay, break it up. can I hug my sister?"

sunghoon lets you go, and leehan easily replaces him. "when did you get so big?"

"I've always been big." he says. you laughed.

"okay, but you're my baby brother."

"yes, i am." you ruffled his hair and he pulls back from the hug.

"let's go back. those two are probably wondering where we are." taesan says.

"the last i saw them they were making out-" *whack* ni-ki winces when sun whacks him.

"don't even mention that." sunoo warns.

"right, sorry noona." ni-ki pouts. you sighed a little.

"it's fine, ni-ki."

you could see jake and aria coming closer to the group. jake was mainly concerned about everyone but aria...she's just kinda following jake.

"hey, why is everyone gathering around here?" jake asks.

"oh, there was a slight mishap so (name) called the girls over. we were worried so we waited outside for them." heeseung explains.

"you could've told us."

"yeah, but you were busy making out with aria so we didn't want to bother the both of you." sunghoon says. there was a petty tone underlying as he tells jake.

"what the fuck is your problem?" jake comes up to sunghoon. sunghoon scoffs.

"nothing."

"nothing? you said that the other time and then you went on a tangent hating on my girlfriend." jake folds his arms.

sunghoon rolls his eyes. "well, I'm right either ways. you were sooooo oblivious and busy with aria that even when (name) got hurt or had an issue you didn't care."

"she's fine now, isn't she? you guys took good care of her. she's in good hands, so i trust you guys to care for her. after all, I'm just her best friend and I am busy with my girlfriend. You don't understand me because you don't have a girlfriend!" jake yells at sunghoon.

you start to cough up again. this time when you look down at your hand, not only was there blood but there was a petal. the first petal to have ever appeared. you had looked up to see everyone staring at you. jake's jaw dropped when he saw the blood in your palms.

you didn't know what else to do other than run away. sunghoon glared at jake once more before he runs after you.

this was moving too fast...

were you dying?

taglist[open]: @sumzysworld @mitmit01 @moon3verland @baribaaari @byty2k @alex-is-sleeping @viagumi @txtlyn @belovedsthings @woninluv @dreamiestay @niniissus @kyutiepeachy @yoongisbaguetteshoes @squiishymeow @jjaammm @enhaz1 @illvding @woniejjang @bee-the-loser @laurradoesloveu @ckline35 @ningx2stan @hoonlvly @clampclover @xyzyx01 @victoriasimm @eneiyri @nshmrarki @woorcve @bubblytaetae @i03jae @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @l1wv00n @onlyhyunjin @kyanmeai @isa942572 @lisaswifey @alisonyus @firstclassjaylee @szkstay @enhamysunshines @milanco @hsbae @zyvlxqht @lixiebokie @wth121 @enahasblog @gongiz @anuisamazing @heestrawberries @gyehyeonist @nshmurarki @heelovesmeknot @silquids

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[ithebookhoarder]

Do you have any criminal minds fics in progress? I’d love to see more of your work for them :)

A Sweet Surprise (Aaron Hotchner x AFAB!Reader)

A/N: Oh do I? Haha. Well, whilst my inbox of requests is bursting this randomly fell out of my brain, so great timing with this I guess? I promise I will get to the other stories soon people - in the meantime, enjoy xxx

Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then visit my Ko-fi here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, Aaron being a protective partner

Masterlist

“Aaron, honey, stop," you giggled, trying and failing to wriggle free from your husband’s wandering hands. "I swear, I am fine. Don’t make me banish you back into the living room. You know Garcia has been dying to get you to play Monopoly and, so help me God, I will tell her you’re dying to be the shoe.“

Aaron’s laugh was infectious and if you weren’t so stressed you’d have melted into him. Instead, your eyes narrowed into a warning glare as he reached for you again. 

“I just think you should let me help you, honey-” he pleaded, falling silent as soon as you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen doorway. You glanced up, watching as your host for the evening, Rossi, appeared, an empty glass of wine in hand. He had clearly come in need of a refill of whatever expensive vintage he had cracked open for your monthly team dinner. 

“Help with what?” he teased, watching as Aaron sheepishly stepped back, as if he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Aaron, you may be the boss in the office but in the kitchen? We both know Y/N is the only one I trust to help me cook, so leave her be and come relax in the other room, ok? She clearly has dessert handled.” 

“Thank you, Rossi.” You smirked, pushing Aaron back with a floured covered hand. “I told him I could handle a pie, but you know what he’s like.”

“I’m just offering to help.”

“Which I thank you for, but I got this,” you assured, even if he clearly disagreed. 

“I know, but it’s been a long day, why don’t you let me finish this-”

“Aaron Hotchner, go and sit down. Now.”

Rossi’s eyes widened as he let the bickering continue, waiting until he had finished filling his glass before he decided to weigh in again. He knew the pair of you better than you knew yourselves sometimes and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what was going on here. 

Aaron was protective of those he loved at the best of times, but something was different - and considering you hadn’t touched any of the drinks that had been put in front of you tonight, he had a pretty good idea what.  

“Aaron,” he sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, come have a drink with me and the team. We both know Y/N is going to be ok. She’ll join us in a minute, or she’ll ask if she needs help.” 

"But-"

"Leave the poor girl alone," Rossi teased, shooting you both a knowing look. “Otherwise, you'll give yourselves away before we even get to dinner.”

Aaron coughed but failed to hide the shock on his face. It was no use either of you trying to deny it, not when your closest friends were also profilers. If anything, you were surprised you two had been able to hide it this long - and it had only been a mere week since you’d first told him the good news. 

“Ah,” he choked, turning slightly red. However, he relaxed as soon as you turned and pressed a kiss against his cheek. He could see you were relieved by the discovery, rather than upset, and that was enough to make him remember who it was he was sharing the news with. 

"Ha! I told youuuuu,” you sang smugly. “And now you owe me $50. I knew you’d be the one to give it away.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I will.” 

“Well, congratulations to you both,” Rossi said simply, lifting his glass in a silent toast. He then shook Aaron’s hand and reached to pull you into a hug of his own. However, it was he went to let you go that he paused. “And Y/N? If you do need a break, or want me to finish dessert, I can-“

"Oh my god, Rossi! Not you too,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Are you going to tell anyone?”  

“Oh, hell no,” he chuckled. “Given your performance tonight, I want to see if you can manage to keep it a secret from the team until dinner, let alone until work on Monday."

"So much for the being the best profilers in the US," you snorted, remembering how it had been Jack who had first worked it out rather than his usually observant father. He'd been the one to spot the pregnancy pamphlets hidden in your purse, after digging to find the candy he knew you always kept in there.

Of course, he'd only reacted with excitement upon learning he was going to be a big brother - leading to him bursting into the house, asking when he'd get to play with his new sibling... yeah, you'd thought Aaron was about to pass out he went so white.

“Hey, now. In my defence,” Aaron protested, “you're not showing yet."

"So my weird ass craving requests didn't tip you off?"

"Honey, you eat so much weird shit normally... Like, so much. Even Jack wouldn't eat half the stuff you do."

Well, he had you there. "... You still owe me $50."

[fallow-hollow]

Hiii I am Dying of nervousness sending in a request for the first time but could I get Mithrun and a gn!reader? Nothing else needs to be specific, just that (sorry if I am making it difficult for you ^^')

body heat

…ft! mithrun x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon, spoilers for manga and ending, established relationship, cuddling

…word count! 955

…notes! don’t see a lotta mithrun content out there, so i’m happy to write for him! i hope this meets your expectations anon!!

“Mithruuuun,” you whined, unable to see your lover even when looking over your shoulder. “C’mere with me and light the fire already, it’s so cold in here.”

Mithrun shot you a glance from where he stood a distance away, despite the fact that you couldn’t return it. “Is it? I can’t tell.”

His flat tone of voice made it even more obvious that the elf truly knew nothing of the agony you were experiencing, imbuing you with a sense of lighthearted frustration. Tossing your head back, you would groan,

“Of course you can’t tell, you’d wear a flowy tunic even if it was a blizzard outside! Now come help me!”

Without as much of a sound to warn you, the man suddenly appeared at your side, causing you to both jump and squeak from the spontaneous nature of his movement. Scratch that, knowing him, it was probably teleportation. Hardly necessary, considering how close you were, but you wouldn’t put it past your lover to do such a thing just to scare you. What a tease…..

“I don’t mind helping you, but sometimes I do wonder if you choose not to do it on your own just to spend time with me.”

Now, it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for Mithrun to say something like this completely genuinely, but the ghost of a smirk gracing those gorgeous features of his let you know that he was most certainly poking fun at you right now. He could be so arrogant sometimes… not that you truly minded.

Ever since Mithrun had recently retired to live with you in the still fledgling Golden Country, you’d noticed him start to become ever so slightly livelier at times. In the past, he’d always said he was grateful that you didn’t meet him when he was so pompous and flippant, but to you, a few snarky remarks here and there didn’t bother you at all. If anything, it meant that he could reclaim his old self while also embracing the new, which made a hopeful prospect for your shared future.

While you were in the process of pondering these feelings, the man beside you went right ahead with his magic. Though he mainly specialized in teleportation magic, any self-respecting member of the Canaries, former or otherwise, knew how to do something as simple as create some flame. The firewood you’d piled up caught almost instantly, creating a blaze that was perfect in both size and temperature.

“Thank you.” You acknowledged him with a nod, figuring that was all he would do. It seemed that Mithrun had other plans, however, judging by his choice to lift up one end of your blanket and wedge himself into the space next to you. A bit confused, you shot him a glance. “I thought you said you weren’t cold?”

He hummed. “But I want to be with you.”

Want. It was such a strange word to hear from Mithrun. For the longest time, he insisted he was unable to want anything at all, aside from the burning need for vengeance. Even now, he struggled with things like eating or sleeping. So to hear that he wants you, of all things…

You did nothing to hide the smile on your face. “You always can, you big goof.”

Whenever the two of you snuggled, your lover never really knew where to put his hands. This rang just as true now, with his arms awkwardly hovering on either side of you, unsure where to grasp or hold. With an almost practiced sense of effortlessness, you guided him to wrap both arms around your waist, positioning one at a time.

For a man so strong, he was quite pliant under your touch. One could easily say that it was his own apathy causing such behavior, but on the other hand, it was nice to believe that he chose to do so of his own free will.

He certainly had no trouble plopping his head down on your shoulder, completely unbothered by the way his cheek was squished from the proximity. How could someone be so battle hardened yet so…..cute?

“You comfy?”

The elf hummed affirmatively, the sound slightly muffled by the close contact. You allowed one hand to snake behind his back and rest comfortably on his hip, meanwhile the other grasped the edge of the blanket to keep it snugly wrapped around you. Honestly, Mithrun could probably be in the strangest position imaginable and still consider himself perfectly comfortable, so you weren’t entirely sure why you asked. It just felt… nice to check in on him. Like the right thing to do, no matter how obvious his answer may be to you.

Soft crackling sounds served as the backdrop for these thoughts, all while your lover remained still and relaxed by your side, having some ponderings of his own. Without you, Mithrun often found it difficult to settle down. He was getting a little better at knowing when to rest and eat in recent days, but even at times where he was well aware of the tiredness weighing him down, it was difficult to want to rest. Especially when what he wanted even more was to wait for you.

With you, he was able to feel at ease in a way that he still struggled with for the most part. Just like that dwarf had told him, even vegetable scraps could grow anew when placed in the soil and cared for. Maybe you were the earth, and he wanted nothing more than to relax while surrounded by you. He really wasn’t great at metaphors, so he couldn’t quite tell.

Of one thing, though, he could certainly be sure.

“I think that it should get cold more often.”

[cruel-hiraeth]

꒰ AS YOU WISH ꒱ DILUC RAGNVINDR X READER

warnings ⟢ minors do not interact—i will block you! bondage. slight dubcon (but not really...trust). cunnilingus. reader has a vagina, wears panties, is shorter than diluc, and is referred to as “dearest” once.

word count ⟢ 952

notes ⟢ this fic is part of @ficsforgaza’s kinktober event! my prompt was diluc + bondage. i want to give a HUGE thank you to my beloved zebra (@tartagliove) for the beautiful redraw of darknight hero diluc in the banner. ze—i’m in awe of your talent, and i feel honored to have your artwork at the top of my fic!

The sounds of gore cease suddenly.

You hold your breath and listen, straining to hear signs of who won the battle. Tendrils of smoke drift into the air and the ripe stench of death coats your tongue; gooseflesh skitters across your limbs. When the blindfold is ripped from your head, you let out a shriek, chest heaving as you regain composure. A mere pace from you is a masked figure who is renowned in Mondstadt, more legend than man: the Darknight Hero.

His entire body is obscured by an inky cloak, a birdlike mask covering all but the lower half of his face. A shock of crimson hair is gathered high into a ponytail at his crown, his tresses a cascade of flames that lick down his neck and back. His irises are the same color: the glowing embers of a dying fire, sparking hot then fizzling out.

Before you can so much as thank him, he gestures to your arms. They are bound with rope that looks like it was dipped in the cosmos—indigo charmeuse pinpricked with wandering stars—intricately woven with Abyssal magic to suspend your wrists above your head.

“It’s going to be a while until that magic wears off.”

His voice is rich and flinty; it reminds you of charcoal. When his gaze flickers to your flimsy nightwear, you squirm against your restraints, acutely aware of your vulnerability.

“What would an Abyss Herald want to do with you, I wonder?” The hero slowly circles you, appraising, an umbertail falcon stalking his prey. “You have no vision. And you certainly aren’t prepared to fight.” A gloved fingertip, sooty with ash and ichor, grazes the hem of your shorts—much too close to your inner thigh.

“Is this an interrogation?” you snap. “Because I’d also love to know why I’m here.”

An amused smile tugs at the man’s lips. He’s so near that you can see the puckered flesh of a scar that cuts across his cheek; he grasps your chin with surprising gentleness. While his words are terse, they drip with honey. “You’re a mouthy one, hm? So tell me, then,” he pulls your shorts down and they fall to your ankles, a digit moving to stroke the waistband of your panties, “were you touched here?”

“S-stop,” you stutter, swallowing thickly. “This hardly seems appropriate for the hero of Mondstadt.”

One strong hand steadies your waist while the other pets the pubic hair that curls out from beneath your lacy briefs. He chuckles and leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear in a whisper, “Are you claiming you don’t want this?”

From the moment you first spied the tall, broad figure of your savior, a simmering warmth ignited in your belly, kindling into a roaring fire. Lust seeps through the thin garment that barely preserves your modesty, clinging to your labia. Even in the dim, flickering light of the room, your need is apparent in your smoldering stare and spit-slick pout.

Swiftly, he withdraws. “I will not stoop so low as to force myself on—”

“Don’t play the proper gentleman all of a sudden. Touch me.”

Without another word, the Darknight Hero drops to his knees. His eyes are a dusky glass of dandelion wine, drinking you in as he mouths at your clit through sopping fabric, his tongue pressed flat, savoring your arousal. But he doesn’t tease you for long; he tears off your final layer and discards it like an afterthought, humming at the sight of your exposed cunt. The stubble on his cheek scrapes the plush of your thighs as he spreads your legs. You wobble with the movement, the rope burning your wrists as your arms stretch uncomfortably.

A sweet peck to your clit is your only warning before he slips between your folds. He starts with tender licks and caresses, occasionally dipping down to lave at your hole, then returning to where you need him most, sloppily sucking until your head grows fuzzy with pleasure. You try to focus on and decipher the patterns that his slippery muscle weaves. His mouth melds perfectly with your heat, and his deep, rumbling groans heighten your bliss.

But your shoulders ache, and you’re worried that your ankles are going to give out on you.

“Diluc,” you whimper.

In an instant, your husband stands up—chin dewy with your desire. He rips off a glove and singes the rope; your body floods with relief as your arms fall slack. He removes his mask to reveal his drawn expression: brow furrowed and jaw firmly set. “I pushed you too far,” he states, examining the bands of raw flesh that encircle your wrists.

You shake your head vehemently. “No—not at all. I agreed to this, you know.”

His visage softens with your reassurance, though his eyes still shine with concern. He presses a featherlight kiss to each of your injuries. “Shall we return home? I’d like to get some salve on your wounds as soon as possible. In fact, I may visit Sucrose for a fresh jar. Of course I won’t detail what happened or why we need the salve...”

Diluc’s anxious rambling trails off, and he soaks in your palpable irritation as you frown.

“What is it, dearest?”

“Well, I was hoping the Darknight Hero would finish what he started,” you huff, ignoring the heat that blooms in your face at the admission.

“Oh,” he smirks, stepping closer, “is that right?”

“Don’t make fun of me—I’ll make you regret it.”

“I would never dream of such a thing.”

“So…” You press your palms to his chest, rising to your toes. “You’ll take me up to Mr. Ragnvindr’s study, hero?”

His lips ghost yours, sticky, heady with you. “As you wish.”

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I really love your homicipher content!! Could I ask you for Mr Machete headcanons in a relationship?

This man needs love please, I can't find any of it anywhere!!! 😩 And by the way, you write very beautifully! Never stop :D!

If your requests are already closed you can ignore this. Thank you and have a nice day!

⊱ Being in a Relationship with Him ⊰ || Mr. Machete Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Machete (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Mr. Machete’s Route), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and horror-elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Machete Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions/Expresses Them Differently Than a Human Would – He Also Will Fight You™ Which Is Obviously Not Healhy IRL), Brief Mention of Blood Consumption. Genre: Headcanons, Fluff(?), Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~1,100 words. Request: “Hi!! I really love your homicipher content!! Could I ask you for Mr Machete headcanons in a relationship?” Author’s Note: Of course, and thank you for your kind words! While Mr. Machete isn’t one of my top picks, I can certainly see his appeal. Plus, if I’m being 100% honest with everyone, he’s actually really fun to write for (which I was not expecting at all when I started writing for this fandom). This type of character usually isn’t my favorite, but I’m starting to understand the Mr. Machete fans the more I write for him… 😳 I kind of focused on the traits that Mr. Machete would look for in a partner, and what being in a relationship with him would be like. Of course, I do my best to stay as canon-compliant as possible, which means that this is not a cute list of sweet/fluffy headcanons, so just be warned (there’s nothing too horrible or crazy, just… don’t date anyone who would spear you with a huge sword irl haha). Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I had a really fun time thinking about/writing this one. 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

🔪: Honestly, being in a relationship with Mr. Machete can be challenging sometimes or simply impossible, especially if you’re expecting him to be a perfect gentleman who treats you like a delicate flower (spoiler alert: he won’t and he never will). He’s a rough and rugged resident of the other world, someone who is constantly on the search for exhilaration – he’s looking for someone who will give him a challenge in battle and someone who will bring stimulation into his existence that he has increasingly grown bored with. If you cannot do either, then he wants nothing to do with you. He has no problem driving his sword into your back if you do not bring him any sense of excitement and overstay your welcome. 

🔪: To first catch the attention of someone like Mr. Machete, you need to be strong. Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean physical strength (even though that certainly is a bonus and he would prefer someone who is bigger or someone who is physically the same size as he is), but being strong can also be mental fortitude – someone who doesn’t let their mind and emotions take control of their life. He’s not an emotionally available type of person, not seeing the point in discussing emotions or lingering on past mistakes or sorrows, instead choosing to express himself in the only way he knows how to – violence. If there’s any stirring within him, feelings he cannot put a label on, he gets his frustrations and confusion out by slaughtering others or dueling with someone who he feels can stand toe-to-toe with him. So, if you’re in a relationship with him, you have to be okay with battling him and accepting the possibility of being injured (or even dying) as a result. It's kind of his go-to way of communicating things he cannot find the words for.

🔪: He also wants a partner he doesn’t need to babysit or look after, someone who can take care of and protect themselves if danger were to arise. He wants an equal, not someone who is fully dependent on him for physical security or emotional support. He wants someone who he can rely on and who he knows will watch his back. Mr. Machete doesn’t mind someone simply following him around (even if he’ll constantly ask you why you’re doing that despite the fact he does find it somewhat annoying) but, if you’re planning on staying with him for the long term, he prefers someone who can pull their own weight, especially so in a fight. 

🔪: If you manage to meet his standards and earn his respect in either physical or verbal battles, congratulations! You now have yourself an emotionally unavailable partner who loves violence and is constantly looking for excitement to fill the aching void inside his chest! He’ll frequently do things in your relationship that go against what you tell him (the primary example being when he just threw the MC across the chasm despite her yelling for him to stop), and he doesn’t understand why it makes you upset, especially since everything usually works out in the end. He doesn’t pick up on context clues either so if you need him to do something specific, you’ll need to tell him that since he doesn’t read between the lines. If you try and explain it to him, though, there’s about a 50/50 chance he’s actually listening to what you’re saying – it depends on his mood. 

🔪: However, after the two of you spend more time together, he does find himself (albeit begrudgingly) enjoying your company. He’s always traveled alone, looking for a home he cannot remember yet a deep part of him longs for. He’s never been one to have companions or appreciate another's company… yet here you were – still following him around despite everything, and he actually found himself liking it (maybe, just maybe, you could find a home in one another).

🔪: He would need a partner who was quick-witted and not afraid to bite back at his complaints with snide or snippy remarks. Mr. Machete finds bantering with you surprisingly enjoyable, and he often tries to guess what you’ll say to him before you even have the chance to think of a good comeback. You can tell when his feelings start shifting a bit, too, finding that he criticizes your weapon and stature less frequently and instead praises you on things you do well, such as your improvements in battle (even though he’ll still remark that you move too slow). That’s fine, though – he doesn’t mind training with you more to give you an opportunity to enhance your skills. 

🔪: Mr. Machete will never really be soft with you no matter how much time passes, and that’s just something you’ll have to accept if you want to be in a relationship with him. Once you have won him over, though, he will stick by your side through thick and thin, and he finds himself fleeing from battles less often, almost as if he’s trying to impress you (however, if both of you do need to flee, he’ll fling you over his shoulder and leave while carrying you instead of leaving you behind in the dust, so that’s an improvement at least). He’ll also keep you healthy, willingly cutting open his palm without you asking him to do so, placing it above your mouth while his blood trickles down your throat – he’ll give you as much of his blood as you need if it means getting your body to work again. He doesn’t want you to be weak, so he’ll help you stay strong. 

🔪: Not big on most typical ways of displaying affection, instead finding the best way to show you his respect and endearment by challenging you to duels. It’s almost like a dance between the two of you, an opportunity to see how much the other has improved while the sound of your weapons clashing echoes through the concrete corridors of the other world in a haunting song of bloodlust and complicated feelings of love. After battle, though, sometimes he’ll just… hold you. It feels surprisingly normal – you sitting in his lap, head resting against his chest while you close your eyes and catch your breath, and his arm flung around your shoulder while he holds you close. The moments when you two aren’t searching for your home or fighting something (or each other) are rare and eerily calm, yet they’re also relaxing and bring you both a sense of peace in each other's presence. Mr. Machete doesn’t find these brief instances boring, either, even though he knows he should detest them... he doesn't mind sharing the occasional moment of quiet with you.

[xoxochb]

— hold me, console me ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: reader is v overdramatic n mean to percy, he’s also an idiot so it’s deserved, sex references, overall just a bunch of fluff though pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader a/n: currently experiencing the worst period of my life and desperately needed some fluff so here we are 🤗

“you comfy there?”

at the voice, you happily jump up from your disheveled position on your bed (in your defense— the only position where you hadn’t gotten a splitting pain shooting through your tummy) and discard your emotional support bunny stuffie and jump into the arms belonging to your boyfriend.

percy laughs at your enthusiasm for him being there. “I take it you missed me, sweet girl.”

“very much,” you murmur into his shirt clad shoulder. you strongly inhale his scent— heavily of the ocean but there’s always a hint of cologne. your arms tighten around his neck. “I’m pretty sure I’m dying. I want you to plan my funeral.”

“you’re not dying, angel. c’mon, let’s get you to bed.” he unwraps his arms from around your waist, ignoring your pouty expression as he takes your hand and drags you back to your bed.

“but I’ve been laying in bed all day!” you whine. prrcy ignores your words of protests and forcefully, yet diligently, pulls you onto the bed with him, tightly wrapping you back up in his arms so you’re unable to leave them again. your eyes prickle with tiny tears as your new position is allowing your odious cramps to provide you with the worst of pains.

percy frowns when he feels wetness soaking through his shirt. he runs a comforting hand over your back knowingly. “please don’t cry.”

your mood switches quickly. “you try dealing with period cramps then get back to me on that!”

“I’m sorry, continue crying.”

you don’t. you’re too angry to be sad now. then you get sad again because you yelled at your loving boyfriend. “I’m sorry, perce.”

“you’re fine, sweet girl.”

“I’m not fine, my tummy hurts,” you cry.

percy may be going out on a limb here. he may make you angry saying this, or he may make you happy because at least he’s trying. his hand finds its way underneath your shirt. “y’know, sweet girl, I know something that’ll help with your cramps.”

“do you?” you say naively. but realization hits you too hard when his hand begins traveling further places. “no.”

“what you don’t even—” he laughs. “you don’t even know what I’m about to say!”

“your hand says enough!” you take it out from underneath your shirt and place it over.

“okay, excuse me for living.”

you stay silent, a splitting pain shoots through you again. you sigh and nuzzle your face into his shoulder and return to your sadness. “‘m sorry again.”

“don’t apologize. do you need anything? water? medicine? sleep? me?”

“last two.”

“you’re in luck. I’m right here, you just gotta shut those pretty eyes of yours.”

“well shut the fuck up first. I can’t sleep when you’re talking.”

“my mouth is zipped shut.”

you mumble a quiet ‘thanks’ and close your eyes. though you don’t end up falling asleep until you ten minutes later because percy’s mouth was not zipped.

[bobbin-buckley]

Partners

Astrid Deetz x Masc!Fem!Reader

Summary: Astrid finds a partner to survive college and her classmates

Warnings: Some bullying, fluff, some mentions of almost dying, some spoilers from the movie, homophobia, horrible flirting, fluff at the end!

e/c: eye color

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She found herself wandering the darkened aisles of the college’s library, fingertips brushing against the spines of of each book that have been sitting there for so long some dust falls. She received an assignment regarding Shakespeare, it was basically a detention assignment due to her arguing with her teacher about some disagreements.

When reaching for the book she needed, her warm hand collided with a cold one. Turning her head to look up at the taller figure, she saw you. Now you weren’t popular or anything, but for it being a small college and town she could easily recognize you.

Astrid furred her eyebrows, politely asking you to let go. “I’ve found this book first,” she said in a stern tone.

You glanced down at her. She could notice your attractive state, you were very pretty. Astrid’s brown eyes stared into your e/c, and damn she felt like love at first sight really hit her.

Your voice cut off her trance, “It’s okay, I’m sure you need it more than me.” Your hand moved from the book and her hand, she pouted a bit at the absence of your hand against hers.

Grabbing the book still, she tilted her head slightly…examining you and your features. “Yeah, I do need it more than you. Thanks…” she paused, realizing how shitty that sounded. “Anyways, what’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you answered, “and you?” The more you looked at her the more familiar she became, I mean..yes of course she goes to the same college as you. But you don’t exactly observe the people around you, especially the quiet ones.

She bit her lip, your voice was sexy. Her grip tightened on the book, trying to stay focused. “Astrid,” she answered before asking. “Hm, you just look familiar, have we met?”

“Now that you mention your name, aren’t you the kid that keeps getting picked on by those goons right?” Well that was definitely out there, not that she took any offense to it. She was getting bullied by some of the other schoolgirls, they’d put a Halloween prop in her dorm to scare her, which never works.

“Yeah, I am. I also wish those idiots would stop it.” She sighed, not really wanting to think about them.

“I get that, well I can deal with them if you want,” you offered. She was shocked, never ever did she think anyone would be willing to protect her. Besides maybe her mom, if she was even here.

“It’s fine, really.” Astrid shook her head, she didn’t want to see your pretty face get hurt.

All you did was nod, putting your hands in the pockets of your school pants. “Well uh…just let me know. And if you need help school wise I’m happy to, Shakespeare isn’t easy.” You walked off through the aisle with a smile, disappearing when turning the corner.

Sigh

How was she going to get over you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was never going to get over you.

You were just too damn sweet and perfect! She couldn’t handle the way you smile, the way your eyes beamed into hers and your voice was incredibly attractive!

Astrid wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it, she said she wasn’t going to fall in love like her mom. She didn’t want to be anything like her mom. Even if she did, she might end up getting a divorce if she does ever get married..would that happen with you?

“Ugh, this is so frustrating.” Astrid said under her breath, she’s spent at least two hours now doing all this research and shit.

Normally she does okay when doing school work, but why couldn’t she think? It was because she was thinking of you, fuck.

She took a deep breath, and began to gather her stuff. Maybe if studying with you would help make her less distracted?

Wrong. Absolutely Wrong

Astrid left her dorm, locking it and making sure those pricks won’t get in like last time and prank her. Though when she turned around and headed for the stairs, a book came skimming across the wooden floor, ironically ending up right under her foot causing her to slip and trip down the stairs.

She gasped, her book bag flew down with her. She expected to hit the ground and be dead, but she felt warm arms around her, preventing her from dying.

“Hey you okay?” Astrid looked up, seeing how it was some guy who caught her. She wasn’t sure why, and she was disappointed for some reason.

“Uh..yeah I’m fine,” she backed up from the guy and brushed off her skirt. Then the uproarious sounds of laughter were heard from behind her up the stairs where she slipped. It was the girls that harassed her, they were laughing with tears in their eyes.

Astrid rolled her eyes, a flash of red flashing over her cheeks in embarrassment. She looked back up at the guy.

“How’s your leg? You slipped pretty hard,” he held her hips..for some reason trying to get closer to her.

Astrid backed up again, bending down to pick up all her stuff as he tried to help. “I said I’m fine, thanks.” She said a bit more aggressive, she wasn’t mad at him..just at those girls.

“Well uh..” he started again.

God can’t he shut the fuck up?

“Uhm…I’m Nick. I’m in your literature class.” He said, thinking she’d just know who he was. When really she didn’t. “I was your partner for the Shakespeare project.”

“Shit.” She said out loud, making the oblivious boy furrow his eyebrows. She forgot she had a partner, she just left class early to cool off from being stressed, she never heard who her partner was.

“Right…yeah sorry. Uhm..” “No it’s alright you forgot, I actually came to ask you if you wanted to go study in the library?”

Why did he have to ask that?!

“Oh sure, yeah I guess,” dumbass. Astrid thought, fuck she was screwed..she wanted to study with you!

“Great!” He exclaimed, “let’s get going cause I’ve got a club to meet with later.” He smiled, leading her to the library and she followed him anxiously. She totally forgot about the girls and their prank.

Astrid sat across from Nick, though after every few minutes he’d scoot his chair closer. It made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be rude and leave, she already said yes to studying with him. But you…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking through the library, your books in your arms. Now the head over heels girl you are, you studied Shakespeare for Astrid. Even if she didn’t agree to study with you yet…you still wanted to be nice.

When passing through the library, you could hear a familiar voice faint from across the library. You peaked around the corner of an aisle of books, seeing Astrid with a guy!?

“The fuck..?” You muttered to yourself, why was she studying with a guy? I mean sure..cool I guess, but you offered..and why did she decide to go with him instead? You’re definitely smarter than him. (Since you are in your favorite class with him and he has no idea what’s going on)

Jealously floods through your body, hands clenched in fists and clenching the books. You wanted to beat the guy with your books and take Astrid to your dorm.

But she didn’t say yes. So that’s her decision, not yours to make.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While deep in thought of studying, Astrid caught a glimpse of you staring at her and and Nick. You left quickly and she sat up.

“Whoa, you good pretty girl?” Nick asked in a flirty way, bothered the hell out of her.

“No..I’m not.” She huffed, unsure if she should chase after you or not.

Nick bit his lip, “well..maybe uh, taking this studying date behind closed doors might cheer you up?”

Astrid’s eyes went wide at his words, the forceful feeling of gagging escaped her. She turned to looks at him from the library doors.

“Excuse me what? No thank you, and this ain’t a fucking date weirdo.” Astrid stood up quickly, gathering her things. Nick shot up from his chair, damn he was desperate.

“W-wait no, hey I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. How about uh..flowers? Would that suffice?” His dumbass tried to convince, but none of his ‘charm’ was getting to Astrid.

“No. End of story, I’ve got a different study date to catch.” Literally

Astrid took off, speeding walking out of the library and left him behind dumbfounded in the library. She had no idea where you could have gone, she wandered the halls aimlessly.

“Oh is the dyke looking for her girlfriend? She ran off to her dorm with tears in her eyes, you know it’s hard to break Y/n.” Astrid heard the snitch say, she turned to face her and sighed.

“Just shut up Kayla. I don’t need you on my ass right now,” Astrid scoffed and walked off to find you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She spent about an hour looking for you, she eventually found you outside in the rain by the garden. A common place for those who are stressed or sad to hangout at.

“Y/n?” You turned your head when you heard her voice. She looked pretty as ever under the rain, and so did you. You turned away again, not sure what to say but still be upset. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She stepped closer to you, sitting down next to you.

“Sorry, I was just shocked when I saw you with…that guy,” you tried not to sound jealous. But regardless of what you say it sounded like it. “It’s..it’s not that I’m jealous. I just really wanted to be the person to study with you.”

Astrid blushed at your words, her heart feeling touched by your words. “Sounds like your jealous to me..but I won’t tease you.” She chuckled, smiling up at you. “Besides, it was cute of you to come find me and ask again.”

Your own cheeks flared up, it was the first time someone’s ever made you flustered. “Thanks Astrid, if you want to we can still study?” She smiled, meaning yes. “Oh! And uh..might be a little too much but I already did some studying for you..to see maybe what you could be struggling with.”

She watched you pull out some notes, which were kinda ruined from the rain. “Well…” “it’s okay..we can start over if you want.” Astrid stopped you, placing a hand on yours.

Your eyes shifted to hers, then her lips. “I’d love to start over.”

HAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAH CLIFFHANGER

actually nvm I won’t do that to y’all

Astrid pressed her lips against yours, not hesitating to do it. You were glad she did, you were too damn nervous to get any closer. Her hands grasped around your neck, while yours let go of the already damp papers onto her waist. The notes began to dampen even more from falling into a puddle.

From now on your promise to always study with her and keep her from dumbasses like Nick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Rushed bc I felt bad for not posting anything in awhile

My first time writing Astrid too

And idk who the jerks in the movies names were so Kayla was something that popped into my head

Also not all the way spelled checked bc my brain hurts from homework

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter four:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: angst, jealousy, insecurities

➴ word count: 3.9k

➴ author’s note: this is a mess, soph and jack are a mess, quinn’s a sweetheart, grace’s funny af and i’ve reached 100 followers today. can’t even describe how happy i am with the attention IYLM,LMK is getting. i adore u all so much and i hope u stick with me for a while. prepare your seatbelts because shit is about to hit the fan. :,)

SOMETHING changed between you and Jack that day at the Skims set, a week ago.

You finally realized that you are, very much, in love with Jack Hughes. Which was something that you never, in a million years, would’ve guessed. Because, what; you told yourself you’d never get your heart shattered again, yet here you were, walking straight (and worse: willingly) into a trap, falling in love with the man whore of the Devils team.

Despite all of the mean things your mind wanted to tell you, you just forced yourself to remember that not every man is like your cheater ex boyfriend and that not every man would completely crush your heart and tear it apart.

And even though you wouldn't put your hand on the fire and say that he felt the same way as you, if he didn’t, that man was good at pretending. Because no way in hell he’d take all of his fuck buddies to their family lake cabin to throw a Halloween party.

“This is crazy, Jack, you are in the middle of the season, and I’m in the middle of releasing something…” you started, watching as the car took a turn. “Also, how the fuck did you manage to organise a party in, like, thirty minutes?”

“Uh. I’m literally a NHL player. What did you expect?” He scoffed, so full of himself it was almost impossible to stand. You rolled your eyes. “And it’s just a night. I’m not screwing everything up for having fun for one night only, baby, and neither is you.���

“I guess you’re right.” You mumbled, answering some texts messages on your phone.

“I’m always right.” You rolled your eyes again, watching as he drove with ease. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“My fans have been dying for me to dress up as Rapunzel, so I might as well please them.” You shrugged, locking your phone and putting it on your pocket.

“I don’t know about them but I am definitely pleased with the idea.” He smirked.

“You’re just horny, Hughes. Happens to the best of us.”

“Or you’re just pretty. Happens to some of us.”

You laughed, cheeks warm and heart beating fast. “You’re a flirt, Jack Hughes. I missed that. Is it always this crazy during the season?”

“Like you can’t even imagine. My life is just games, working out, eating plain shit and practice for seven months straight.”

“And you love every second of it, don’t you?”

He smiled, white teeth making the view seem a whole lot brighter. “I do, yes. It’s like… the only thing that makes me feel truly alive.”

“Yeah, I know what it feels like,” you whispered. “I feel like that when I’m on the stage too. It’s just… I don’t know. Makes me feel good.”

“I like seeing you on stage,” he nodded and you raised your brow. “What? I do, really. That concert I went to with Nico was fun. Besides, watching you dance with those little dresses of yours is something else.”

“Boo, you’re just an idiot!” You laughed. “But thank you, Jackie bear.”

“Sophia, Jesus, do not call me that,” he whined, but the smile was still on his lips. “Gross.”

“Okay, Jackie bear, whatever you want, honeypot.”

“Sophia!”

— ♡

THE cabin was packed with people, and you were amazed with how fast people arrived, even with the short notice.

You were waiting for Grace to finish getting ready— she would be wearing a Tiana costume, matching your Rapunzel one— so you both could go downstairs and enjoy the party.

“Jack’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you with that little skirt,” Grace said, while applying lip gloss on her plump lips.

“Yeah, about that… I might need to talk to you about something.” You started, crossing your legs.

She stared at you through the mirror, raising her eyebrows. “Go on, Pinky Pie.”

“I thought we’d established that I’m Twilight and you’re my Mordecai?” You giggled, making Grace laugh too.

“I guess we can pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars…” she sighed. “Go on, then, baby. We don’t have all night.”

“So. I may or may have a thing for Jack. Actually, maybe more than just a thing. Think I’m in love, to be honest,” you waited to see her reaction, not expecting her to jump out of the vanity and start twirling around the room, making you laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Are you joking?” She looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “I just won two hundred bucks!”

Confusion took over your face. “What do you mean?”

“I told Nico that you’d be in love with Jack by the end of October and he said you’d be in love with him by the end of November, and since you confessed it now— perfect timing, by the way— I get my two hundred bucks!” She started dancing and jumping, like she wasn’t a nepo baby.

“Grace! What the hell, this is serious!” You raised your arms.

She sat back on the bed.

“Girl, no it isn’t. Just go to him and say: hey, buddy, here’s a secret not so secret: I’m in love with you.” She shrugged. “Just don’t sing the Airplanes song, please. That’s, like, our thing.”

“Grace, I— I can’t even— what the hell,” you wanted to run your hands through your hair, but you remembered that you were wearing extensions and a tiara. So you stick with biting your nails instead. “First of all, why the fuck would you and Nico bet on something like this? That doesn’t even make sense. Second, I can’t just go over there, call him and tell him I like him. That’s not how it works.”

“Well, Nico was the one who proposed the idea of betting so that’s on him!” She raised a finger. “And yes, that is literally how it works.”

“You’re forgetting that this is Jack Hughes. A guy who, apparently, can’t stay a week without a pussy and fucked every Jerseywoman who walked on God’s green earth.”

“Ew, don’t say that! You know my mom’s New Jersian…” she sighed, making a disgusted face. You smiled, apologetically. “Okay. I know that Jack’s past may not be the ideal background you want for your baby daddy but hear me out!”

“Baby daddy? What—”

“Jack hasn’t touched anyone else since you guys started… well. Fucking.” She blushes, like she wasn’t calling him your baby daddy not even a minute ago. “And he’s a great, great person. I’ve seen how he looks at you and if that man isn’t in love, then I’m white as a sheet of paper.”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated. “Harris also seemed like a great guy, and when we got together, everything changed. I don’t want to go through that ever again.”

“I know it hurt, and God knows I’d rather mop the entire ocean than to see you like that again,” she scooched closer, grabbed your hands and pressed her lips together, the REM Beauty lip gloss making her lips look magical. “But you have to give yourself that chance again. It’s been more than a year, and I’ve seen you and Jack together.”

“I know that, but—”

Grace clicked her tongue, a tsc reverberating on the bedroom walls.

“I’m telling you this as someone who isn’t inside that little head of yours,” she whispered, holding your hands tighter. “You and Jack together? Girl, that’s meant to be. That’s like Achilles and Patroclus, Romeo and Juliet, Hazel and Gus—”

“Girl, what the hell, can’t you find a couple who at least one of them is still alive?” You scoffed.

“Sorry, I just love depressing stories…” she apologized before starting talking again. “That’s not the point, anyway, Miss Girl and you know it! Fuck whatever your head is telling you, Soph: you deserve to be loved and you deserve to love.”

“I didn’t say I love h—” she put a hand over your mouth, interrupting you.

“You don’t have to. I know you, Soph, and the look you get on your face whenever you talk to him, or even better, talk about him, is enough for me,” she kissed your cheek, quickly wiping the lip gloss stain on your face. “And let me tell you a secret, honeybun, he has the same look on his face.”

You smiled, cheeks carmesim and heart full. Thanking Grace for saying all of this wasn’t enough, you needed to buy her a house on the beach with a very naked Nico Hischier inside of it. Maybe that’s what you were going to do.

If only you knew how to convince Nico to be naked at a beach house, you’d certainly—

Someone knocked on the door, and you both got up, surprisingly fast, remembering that you were not alone and that there was a whole party happening downstairs.

Opening the door, you faced Jack who looked way too hot with his own jersey. Of course he’d be wearing a Jack Hughes, NHL Player costume. Of fucking course.

“You were taking too long up here so I came to check on you but maybe we’ll be here for a bit longer.” He smirked, hands finding your corset-covered waist instantly.

“Hum—”

“Excuse me, Mr. I-can’t-keep-myself-in-my-pants, I’m still here.” Grace yelled behind you, and you watched as his entire face showed his annoyance.

“Yeah, I can see. Feel free to leave, though,” he rolled his eyes, holding your right hand and twirling you around. “You look so pretty, baby.”

Your entire face felt like a fireplace but you still smiled nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“You both are disgusting, excuse me,” Grace walked past the both of you, mumbling something about checking in with her husband.

“Let’s go.” He offered you his hands, which you promptly held.

Going downstairs, you were surprised with how full the house was. Like, there were at least fifty people there, which seemed insane for a cabin, no matter how large it was.

Jack dragged you around, saying “hi” to every person you walked by, true to his NHL playboy persona. To your amusement, some people also acknowledged you. Mostly some girls and a few guys. It was nice.

“Sophia!” You heard a shout and immediately knew who it was. Trevor Zegras, wearing a pirate costume, which was just an excuse for him to be shirtless, really. One of the most annoying people you’ve ever met. Truthfully. “Damn, I’d climb that tower for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d push you down that shit, Zegras, fuck off.”

Jack laughed softly beside you, moving until you were both sitting on the couch. Quinn, Luke, Nico, Grace and Zegras were all there, talking with a few people you didn't know the name of.

“You can't say you don’t like me without trying me first.” Trevor suggested, looking directly at your face. You showed him your middle finger.

“No one wants to try you, Zegras, now fuck off,” Jack stated before sipping on the beer he stole from Luke, who was dressed as a cooking chef. Or at least that’s what it looked like.

“See, this is why Quinn’s my favorite Hughes,” he mumbled, smiling at Quinn. “Anyway, Soph knows where the heat’s at.” Pointing at himself, Zegras moved on to the girl on his right, who seemed awfully pleased to be his second option.

“Asshole.” You heard Jack mutter under his breath and you giggled, amused.

“Be nice. He’s just… in heat, I guess,” you shrugged, already used to Zegras’ comments. Every time you saw him, he had something new to add to the list. Usually, you’d tell him to fuck off, and he would.

“He’s a pain in my ass, that’s what he is.” Jack bickered, pouting like a ten-year-old child. You found it cute.

“Poor Jackie, huh?”

“Shut up, Soph.” He smiled, blue eyes bright and kind.

Now that you knew what those backflips your heart did every time you saw him smile meant, it was much harder to control them.

Confessing to Jack would break the no-strings-attached arrangement that you both had silently made. It would meant either dating him and having your happily ever after (even if you hardly believed in those) or having your heart broken (again) by a really nice guy who just wanted to fuck you.

Besides that, you were both well-known people, especially you. You remember all too well when you were at home, chilling after a concert, and you got several texts from your friends and family, regarding a bunch of pictures of Harris kissing another girl at a bus stop station. A fucking bus stop station.

The situation dragged on for months, every time you’d post something, people would mention the fact that your ex was a cheater, you had been cheated on and that somehow you deserved to get cheated on; because of the things you sang, because of the clothes you were. Just a shit show with an even shittier audience.

“Hey,” you heard Jack’s voice beside you, and you turned your head around, looking at him. “Where'd you go?”

“Nowhere,” you smiled; it didn’t reach your eyes. Jack seemed to be ready to talk back when a girl— brunette with the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen— threw herself at his lap.

“Jackieeee.” She whined, kissing his cheek. “I missed you.”

You could tell she was a little tipsy, but even so, it made your stomach ache anyway. That ugly, shattering feeling of feeling like less than less came back, and it was as if you could feel the narrator of your story preparing himself to repeat the same shit again. Here’s Sophia again, the girl who likes to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrests.

“Hi…” Jack sounded unsure, something he rarely did. You looked at Grace, and she looked right back at you. Only then you realized that basically everyone was staring at you.

“You don’t remember me?” The girl sounded like she was pouting and you cringed. She was so close to you, sitting on his lap, that her left thigh was brushing against your arm. “That’s fine. I’ll make sure to be unforgettable this time, baby.”

“Wow, I think that’s it for me,” you muttered, getting up from the couch, moving to the kitchen without looking back. You knew that you’d throw up if you did; not because of Jack and Mrs. Unforgettable, but because of the pity stares you knew people were giving you. It sucked.

You also knew that if you stayed inside the house for too long, you’d end up drunk and pissed off. And you didn’t want that. So you did the only thing that you knew would put your mind in the right place again: going to the lake.

You walked outside, feeling the cold breeze hit your face and legs and arms and— everywhere, really. You should have worn a sweatshirt, but now it was too late to go back. You’d rather turn into a popsicle than to go back there and watch that again.

Sitting on the dock, you watched the lake in front of you, listening to the sounds of insects and trees moving. It was a nice view, but probably nicer in the summer. Right now it just looked like a Criminal Minds crime scene.

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t hear the steps coming from behind you. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Letting out a scream, you turned around, facing Quinn, who was wearing a pilot costume, with a scowl on your face.

“Sweet Jesus, Quinn, what the hell,” you put your hand on your barely covered chest, taking a deep breath. “Don’t you know how to, I don’t know, make noise while you walk?”

“I did that, actually, you just didn’t hear it,” he sat down beside you, handing you a Canucks sweatshirt. “Thought you’d get cold.”

You smiled, thanking him and putting it on, trying not to ruin your hair and makeup.

“Thank you, Quinn. That’s nice. Go Canucks!” You raised your hand, making a fist bump, hearing his soft chuckle beside you. You sighed. “I don’t know if you’re here to try to make me feel better or anything like that, but you don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

“I’m just here because you needed a sweater and because it’s kinda creepy to be here alone. Nothing else, I promise.”

You looked at him, once again surprised with the Hughes men. But then, they were raised by Ellen, so you shouldn’t really be surprised.

You nodded, choosing not to say anything, just feeling the breeze on your face, a million thoughts in your head.

Now what? What would you even say to Jack? Hey, yeah, I know that when we started this we said that we didn’t want to fall in love but guess what! I’m in love with you.

And what would he even say to you? It wasn’t his fault he didn’t like you back. He’d probably say something like yeah, you fucked up our arrangement now I’ll have to find someone else to fuck every week. You were fun, though! and move on with his life.

And you’d move on with yours, just like you did before. The thing is, you didn’t want to move on again. You spent five years into your twenties trying to move on from things and it was tiring as hell. Moving on from broken friendships? Tiring. Moving on from toxic people? Tiring. Moving on from your cheater boyfriend? Tiring and humiliating.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Quinn throwing rocks at the lake, laughing when he couldn’t make them float like he intended to. He looked at you with that tired expression of his, and smiled back.

“Great album, by the way,” he blurted out of nowhere.

You frowned. “Thank you, I guess. Did someone leak it?”

“No,” he laughed, shortly. “Jack talked about it in our family group chat a while ago. Ma asked about you and he went on rambling about it, which was really funny. He was like, putting on his uniform before practice and recording a voice note at the same time, which he never does. And then he went full rambling about all of the songs and how shitty your ex was. Sorry about that,”

You looked at Quinn like he had grown two more heads, four more arms and five more legs. You had no idea Jack talked about your songs with his family. At all.

You wanted to ask more about it to Quinn so bad but you were kinda scared about what you were going to hear in response. Does Jack talk about me?

About you? Yeah, and a lot of other girls too.

“Sure,” you mumbled. “Yeah, Harris was a dick,”

“I liked some of his movies but now he’s banned from my watchlist forever.” Quinn announced like the statement didn’t make your heart break and mend at the same time, his tone calm and distant. “It’s good that you found something to channel your pain though. I do that a lot during my games.”

“Singing for me is like breathing. I’ve done it since I was, like, eight or even younger,” you nodded to yourself, looking at the stars above you. “This album means a lot to me, in a lot of ways. So thank you for telling me this.” You smiled, not sure if he could see it. He was also looking at the stars.

“Don’t need to say ‘thank you’. You have a gift, Sophia. I hope you know that,” he stretched himself, yawning and wrapping his arms around his middle. “I wish I could write songs but I suck at that.”

“Why do you sound like you’ve tried that already?” You smirked, fucking with him.

Or at least you thought you were, because Quinn went quiet, which confirmed your suspicions.

“What!” You looked at him, throwing your arms up. “Have you written songs before?”

“I was thirteen, okay? I just thought that maybe if I didn’t make it to the NHL, I could at least be a rapper or something.” He shrugged, again, which only made you start laughing. “I know, it’s funny. Thankfully, I made it to the NHL.”

“I don’t know, it’d be great to make a song with you,” you said, playfully, before realising something. “Oh my God, Quinn. That’s what I need!”

“What?” He smirked. “Make a song with me? I don’t think that’s a great idea—”

“No, not a song with you. Just a song. I need to write,” You nodded to yourself, getting up and fixing your skirt with your hands. “Do you think I could get a cab here? I came with Jack and I think he’s…” you bit your lip. Focus. Write the song; it will all be better. “Busy. And Grace needs to have her fun, too. She’s been working nonstop.”

“A cab? Soph, it’s like midnight,” he got up, too, standing in front of you. “I can take you home. It’s no biggie.”

“What? No! Enjoy the party! I’ll just try to catch an Uber or something.” You went to grab your phone, just to remember that you left it at the cabin. “Ugh, fuck, I need to go inside again.”

“I will take you home, no need for Ubers or anything like that. Just tell me where your things are and I’ll pick them up for you. I’ll talk to Grace on my way there.” He affirmed, walking with you towards the cabin, the loud music slowly filling up your ears again.

“That’s… so nice,” you breathed, more grateful than you’d like to admit. “Thank you, Quinn, seriously. I owe you.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, hands in his pockets. “Wait a second here, please.”

You did, and it wasn’t long until he showed up with your backpack, your phone and a very worried Grace beside him.

“Girl, what the hell?” She yelled, probably not even realizing how loud she sounded. “I’ve been looking for you like crazy and out of nowhere Quinn shows up with your stuff, saying he will get you home.”

“I have to write a song.” You reasoned, raising your shoulders.

Grace stared at you for what felt like forever, until she pressed her lips on your forehead and sighed. “Alright. I’m not even going to ask. Be safe, please, and remember that I’m only a phone call away.”

“Thank you, I love you.” You kissed her back, following Quinn on the way to his car, not bothering to look back.

Jack was probably busy anyway.

— ♡

HANDS around the guitar, you replayed the same melody you’ve been playing for five hours straight now.

You arrived home at one thirty in the morning, and even though you were awfully tired, you had to get the lyrics, the feelings, the emotions out of you. Fuck sleeping.

You offered your guest room for Quinn but he just shook his head, saying that he’d crash at his parents’. You made him call you when he arrived there so you knew he was safe, which he promptly did.

After that, you made yourself tea and sat in your home studio, writing obsessively. It had been a long time since the last time you had a song practically written in your head, and honestly, you couldn’t tell if that was good or not.

What you knew, though, is that now, five hours later, seven a.m. in the morning, you had a song. Bad for Business. You sent it to your producer and Grace before laying on your bed and drifting away immediately, the exhaustion taking over you.