#I assume they like carpeted bathrooms

[heavencasteel420]

Everyone can like or dislike whatever characters they please, but the moment I find out that a fic writer doesn’t like Jonathan, I lose all interest in their work. It doesn’t matter if he never appears in their stories; I know from that moment on that they are inherently not stories of quality.

[mcumorningstar]

Prove It, Cowboy

pairing: dodge mason x reader

summary: after the player's ball, you find yourself without a bed for the night until dodge offers for you to stay at his, but when his mom and sister catch you sneaking in they get the wrong impression.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, protected sex (p in v), dodge’s mom and sister being kinda invasive about his sex life (?)

a/n: dodge and his mom being so open about her sex life was so funny to me. this is kinda the reverse of a canon conversation... kinda! also i had a dream i went to one of dodge’s rodeos but he was flirting with all the girls so he was my enemy for a few days <3

A midnight sky hung over Carp, Texas when you arrived at Dodge’s house. Dodge put a finger to his lips fruitlessly as the front gate creaked loudly. The curtains of the front room twitched.

A female voice came from inside the house, “Dodge’s brought a girl home!”

Shit.

“That’s Dana,” Dodge sighed, fiddling with his keys and rubbing his forehead with a tight smile. Before he turned the keys in the lock, he turned to you, “Sorry, in advance.”

Your brows screwed together as he guided you inside.

After the player’s ball, Heather disappeared and so you were left without a bed for the night. God forbid you sneak into your own house and face the wrath of your parents.

Dodge came to the rescue.

A sigh fell from his lips at the sight of his mom and sister waiting in the living room doorway with excited smiles and hooded eyes. They behaved more like sisters than mother and daughter. It was sweet.

A dim lamp on the entrance table and the bright colours of the TV cast shadows across the room.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You smiled politely despite two pairs of unfamiliar eyes trained on you.

God they must think you’re here to sleep with him or something.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. You want something to drink?” Dodge’s mom raised her glass of red wine, “We’re watching Jeopardy.“

She was a very beautiful woman, cherub cheeks and bright green eyes. Dodge was all hard angles, he must take after his dad.

Dodge ducked into the sea-foam coloured kitchen to grab two waters from the refrigerator.

“I’m Dana!” His sister beamed. She shared an unspoken look with Dodge, who rolled his eyes. Before you could thank her, Dodge rejoined your side.

“She’s locked out and just wants somewhere to sleep,” He quelled their unspoken barrage of questions.

His mom nodded along, as if he was lying, “Okay well there’s spare blankets in the laundry room, condoms in the bathroom...”

“Oh my god,” Dodge cursed under his breath, “We’re going now.”

Jessica and Dana giggled behind their glasses of wine, the right side of drunk, “The book, Dodge.”

She winked with exaggeration, her filter totally gone with the amount she’d drank but she was clearly having a fun night in.

Dodge shook his head with a flustered laugh.

With a hand on your back, Dodge guided you to his bedroom. Your face flushed at the unexpected attention and the suggestive situation.

The two laughed rather loudly, saying how pretty you are and how Dodge will fair with a girl spending the night, for the first time you assumed.

The sound of the women stifling laughter echoed around the house. Dodge closed his bedroom door with a sheepish and apologetic smile.

His room was pretty plain; grey bedsheets, grey walls, rodeo trophies and medals, a bookshelf with framed photos on. It smelt like laundry soap and his cologne.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” He offered, tossing his backpack onto the carpet.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite,” You teased, as you looked at his collection of trophies and books, “Plus they already think we’re fucking.”

Dodge gave a quick laugh, watching you read the spines on the shelf.

“What book was your mom talking about?” You turned to him and his face flushed.

“You heard that, huh?” He mumbled, “It was a joke really. She thinks she’s funny.”

Even more intrigued by his avoidance, you sized him up with squinted eyes.

Dodge cleared his throat, tidying away a pile of laundry sitting on his bed, “They uh… god this is… They used to worry about me with- with girls. They thought I was a virgin because I never brought girls home to meet them or anything… and so for Secret Santa one year I got a book about… women… My mom insists it wasn’t her and that whoever it was was trying to be funny…”

There was a long pause. Dodge shied away from your eyes, his body turned away from you, despite the little air of embarrassed laughter.

Dodge cleared his throat again, “Super weird, I know. She had kids super young and didn’t want us to make the same mistake. Not that me and Dana are mistakes but it was hard for her. She’s cool about that sorta thing though. Dana’s ex-boyfriend used to stay over all the time and she didn’t care. So if you’re worried, she won’t say anything about you being here or anything.”

Another bout of silence fell between you as Dodge assessed your features, his lips pursed and shoulders tight.

“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me,” You laughed and Dodge visibly relaxed.

“No, it’s cool. Not cool but, you know, I wish my family were cooler about sex. My dad saw your name in my phone and reached for his shotgun,” You laughed, “Anyway, a book is probably better than drunk hook ups at the lake.”

“Yeah probably,” Dodge nodded, leaning against the bookshelf, and there was a lull in the conversation.

“Oh… did you read it?” You giggled, a flush of red creeping up his neck and ears, “You did!”

“You can’t prove anything,” Dodge shook his head with a half-cocked smile.

“But you could,” You raised your eyebrows and he furrowed his. It was a joke, he knew that, but Dodge steeled his expression and licked his lips.

“Yeah?”

You kept your eyes on his for a long moment before smiling, “Yeah. Prove it.”

You reached out and rested a hand on his stomach. His abs were tight and lean under his button-up shirt.

One by one, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, running your hands along the sturdy plane of his stomach and chest.

Conflicting thoughts ran through your head. Heather was like your sister and Natalie had been planning to win Panic for years.

Would fucking Dodge Mason, their competition, be a good idea?

Your judgement was clouded by the heat radiating from his skin and the smattering of hair on his chest. His dual coloured eyes watched your face as you stood before him, admiring him.

“I saw you like this at the jump but not up close,” You rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip, “Thank you, saddle bronc.”

Dodge couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his cheeks, as a sputtered laugh escaped his lips.

In one movement, Dodge threw you over his shoulder and deposited you on his bed, kneeling over you.

A soft line of kisses traced along your arm to your shoulder. With every press of his lips, you itched to feel them against yours, whining at the wait.

Pink and plump, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back to look down at you, stilling hovering over you.

Taking his head in your hands, you craned your neck to kiss him. Each press of his lips had you sighing contently and the swipe of his tongue had you moaning.

Dodge licked into your mouth with fervour, tongue and lips colliding with no precision, only desire.

You hooked your leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back beneath you, straddling his hips.

Dodge instinctively gripped your hips and watched with kiss-bitten lips and doe eyes as you discarded your dress onto his bedroom floor.

“You gonna give me some tips, cowboy?”

Dodge groaned, your hands pressing against his chest, as he slowly guided the rocking of your hips against his.

With every roll of your hips, your tits bounced in the lacy cups of your bra. His eyes flickered between your chest and your pink panties, rubbing against his bulge.

Dodge groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, “Lean forward.”

Following his instructions, a loud moan escaped you at the change in pressure against your clit.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good,” He rumbled, rutting his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. Warmth bloomed in your chest at his praise.

Thank you, saddle bronc.

His muscles rippled and bulged underneath your hands as the slick between your legs dampened the skin of your inner thighs.

Cupping a hand at the nape of your neck, Dodge guided your mouth to his, kissing you with pinched brows and deep groans. Pulling away from the heated make out and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you sat up and unbuttoned his jeans.

Dodge lay back, stroking your thighs and watching you with bated breath. Pulling him from his trance, you hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of his boxers, twanging the material against his alabaster skin.

A smile twitched at his lips as he slowly sat up and kissed you softly, rolling you onto your back. Dodge pushed his jeans off and lay between your legs, the hard length of his cock pressing into your inner thigh.

Settling your hands on each other's heated skin, Dodge kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip playfully. His strong arms wrapped around you, his hand palming at the globe of your ass.

Warm and plump lips mouthed at your neck, teeth tugging the strap of your bra from your shoulder and kissing at the newly bare skin. He unhooked your bra, tossing it onto the floor and laving his tongue at your pebbled nipples.

"Please, need you," You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Dodge pressed a final kiss to your chest before sitting on his haunches and pulling your panties down your legs.

With firm hands on your inner thighs, Dodge parted your legs and bit his lip, staring at your dripping sex. You squirmed under his undivided attention, hooking your calf around his waist and pulling him on top of you.

Kissing him deeply, you pushed his boxer briefs down his hips, dragging your nails across his back once his erection sprung free. The wet tip smacked against your heated skin.

Dodge kicked his boxers off and reached into his nightstand, tearing the foil of a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

Caressing his biceps, you watched as he hovered over you and lined himself against your entrance. You hooked a leg around his hip, gasping into his open mouth as he slowly thrust into you.

Dodge's eyes fluttered shut as his hips pressed flush against yours. A ragged breath escaped his lips, tickling the skin of your neck. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Dodge sighed shakily.

"C'mon cowboy," You rolled your hips, "Buck."

Dodge let out a mix of a soft groan and a laugh into your neck, "You feel really good."

A small giggle fell from you, scratching your fingers through his hair. You bucked your hips again and Dodge clamped a hand on your hip, pulling back and rolling his hips against you.

Picking up the pace, Dodge fucked his thick cock against the sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Sloppy wet sounds echoed around the room with each buck of his hips.

Sweat beaded on your skin as the coil within the pit of your stomach tightened. Your nails clawed at the rippling muscles of Dodge's back, his skin slapping against yours.

Groans tumbled from his lips, pressing heated kisses to your skin, silencing your loud moans with his tongue in your mouth.

Digging your heels into his ass, you tightened your legs around his hips, letting him push one against your chest and his cock sinked deeper into you.

A broken gasp escaped you before his hand clamped over your mouth and his hips stopped, pressing his weight onto you.

The sound of footsteps outside his door and the subsequent flicking of light switches and closing doors alerted Dodge to the presence of his mom going to bed.

Dodge met your eyes, willing you to be quiet, as he continued to fuck you. Your brows pinched together as your interrupted pleasure began to build again, noises muffled by his strong hand.

Pressing his forehead to yours, Dodge slowed his pace and you took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, keeping his cock nestled in your cunt.

A surprised grunt tumbled from his chest and his hands groped at your body, holding you against him. You wasted no time before raising your hips and bouncing on his cock.

Dodge moaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his own mouth. A sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the limited light. Leaning forward, your clit caught against his pubes, igniting a hotter flame within you.

"Good," Dodge praised, brushing your hair out of your face and watching your tits bounce in his face, "Such a good cowgirl."

He tipped his head back further into his plush pillow and his knees bent off the bed, fucking into you, his body pulling taut at the impending release.

"Gonna cum," Dodge rasped, panting and licking his dry lips.

You couldn't form words, only nodding, meeting his eyes and rocking your hips with the uncoordinated buck of his. The band within you was one thread away from snapping before Dodge gripped your jaw and pulled you into a heated kiss.

White hot bliss coursed through your body as you moaned into his mouth. Dodge mouthed at your unresponsive mouth, too preoccupied with moans of pleasure to reciprocate his kisses.

Dodge pulled back to watch your orgasm wash over you before he hit his peak, white ropes of cum filling the condom as he groaned deeply.

Sinking into the mattress, you lay on his sweaty chest, both trying to catch your breath. Dodge discarded the condom in the trash by his bed and pulled you into his side.

His cheeks and neck were rosy with exertion and he ran a hand up and down your back, "You should try saddle bronc."

Fucked out, you laughed into his sweaty chest, "You should keep that book."

Slowly you drifted into a blissful sleep, bodies entwined and satiated.

[starkasaaa]

omg I liked your last capitano fic so much🥹🥹 maybe you can do nsfw alphabet with him? thank you:3

Capitano smut alphabet:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At first, Capitano leans back against the pillow with a soft groan, trying to catch his ragged breath. His arms are tightly clasped around you, holding you close as he kisses the top of your head. He prefers to just lie quietly with you for a while, and then he’ll carry you to the shower. His favorite thing to do is sit with you in the warm water and gently lather your back with some sweet-smelling gel. He also loves it when you help him wash his hair, the feeling of your soft fingers sliding through his strands is so comfortable that he practically falls asleep every time you do it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The Captain is the type of man who loves absolutely everything about his woman, but if he had to choose one thing, it would be your tummy. He loves to put his head on your lap and bury his nose in your tummy after long missions. He also likes to run his big and cold fingers over your tummy, teasing you on purpose and not going lower, where you crave his touch the most. He loves when you impatiently grab his hand and put it between your legs, squeezing him tightly there.

In himself, Capitano loves his hands. They are big, strong, and can easily make your legs tremble in 2 minutes, and oh, there is nothing more pleasant for him than to first make you weak from his hands, and then carry you to the bathroom on those same hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Capitano is a very responsible man, he will not cum anywhere without your consent. If you want him to be in protection, he will definitely be, but to be honest, doing it inside satisfies him more, but don't worry, Captain is a man who will not run away from responsibility, so if you get pregnant from him, he will only be happy to become a father.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

He is not the type of man who will use girls for one night. He didn't have time to think about relationships before, so I dare to assume that he has no experience. Of course he had little intrigues with women, but it never came to sex.

He does not really know what he is doing, he just does what he thinks is right, closely watching your reaction to know whether things are going well or badly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Capitano is a pretty simple man, he prefers traditional positions like missionary. He likes to be in control, so being on top suits his nature. He likes to throw your leg over his shoulder to make the angle of penetration even deeper, or to gently hold your hands above your head so that you can't cover your embarrassed face or your mouth.

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

At first, he will be very serious. His main goal is to satisfy you. The first few times, he will be serious because of his own inexperience and fear of hurting you, but even as his experience increases, he will not become more relaxed. He is simply not used to showing much emotion, and you will have to talk to him about it, and then he will try to be less serious during this.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Capitano doesn’t see much need for daily shaving, and he doesn’t bother much about it. The hair on his partner's body is also not a problem for him, and if one day you suddenly tell him how tiring it is to shave every day, he will simply raise an eyebrow and look at you blankly.

"-…Then why are you doing it? I mean... Doesn't everyone have hair there..."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is not the most gentle person, but he tries very hard. Long years of training and battles made him a very closed person who is not used to taking off his tight facade in front of everyone, but he will try to learn to be more romantic. His care and love is more likely to be shown in actions than in words. For example, changing dirty bed linen after you make love, or helping you wash up+ changing you into clean clothes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He didn’t really do this before, since then any physical intimacy even with himself seemed to him to be something not particularly necessary. But then, as the relationship with you progressed, he realized that this is a pretty good way to relieve tension and it is generally pleasant. So, like any other man, he does it. He just never devotes you to the details of this. It happens that the longing for you during long missions becomes so aching that he has to touch himself, imagining that you are here with him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As I said. Capitano is a simple man, and he prefers to do it traditionally on the bed. He doesn’t really want to risk his status, and just the possibility of being caught in such a position doesn’t really pleasant to him, so doing it at home for him is the best solution.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You don't really have to do anything to get you going. Capitano is always hungry, but he won't admit it. He likes it better when you pull him into bed, because sometimes he finds himself getting turned on too often. It's not that it embarrasses him, it's more that it makes him think he's forcing you, but when you drag him into the bedroom yourself, it turns him on even more.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Something that involves pain. The Captain knows he's big and strong, and the thought of accidentally overdoing it and hurting you while doing it drives him crazy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

There's nothing more beautiful in the world than the nervous nibbling of your lip and the trembling of your thighs as his tongue deftly circles your sensitive bundle of nerves. The way your thighs squeeze his head between them makes his cock press hard against the fabric of his pants. He throws your leg over his shoulder as his fingers slide from your entrance between your labia, feeling like he could cum just from the look of you needing him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He'll go slow at first, giving you time to get used to the pace. Once you've more or less spread out around him, he'll go harder, but not faster. Capitano prefers sensual sex, trying to enjoy every moment with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers more full-on sex, with foreplay, a relaxed atmosphere, and the likelihood that he won't be disturbed. But if you're really needy, he won't mind doing it. If he wants it, the Captain will rather wait until you get home.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The Captain can go as long as he wants. He just never wants to burden you with it too much, so don't try to find out where his limit is. He'll be hungry for you forever.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's not really into this, but if you bring a toy into the house, he might be willing to try it. He'll probably like handcuffs to finally prevent you from covering your face and mouth during this.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Depends on the situation. Normally, he might be willing to stretch out your pleasure a bit, not letting you cum until he thinks you've asked him nicely enough. But if he's coming home from a long mission, there's no teasing. He's been waiting too long and he needs you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The Captain is quite reserved during this, and the only thing that comes out of his mouth is quiet groans. This is rather because he is not used to being emotional, so he needs time to stop holding it in.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It is quite big and thick. With a bright pink tip. (sorry, I don’t know what else to write here😭)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before, he didn’t feel any desire for sex at all, and probably the amount of excitement and desire that he feels now is all accumulated over those years when he didn’t experience it, well, or rather didn’t notice it. But now… He feels like a wild animal, especially after a long separation from you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

For Capitano, the most important thing is to make sure that you fall asleep first. He tries to make up for his taciturnity with actions. He will put a glass of water on your nightstand, fluff your pillow so that it is softer, and wrap you in a blanket. He will stroke your back and kiss your forehead until you fall asleep, and only then will he fall asleep himself.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Morning Sickness

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex in the past, pregnancy, etc.

Summary: Quinn is getting increasingly worried about you as you're sick every morning and every evening, you're adamant that you're fine. Turns out you're right in a way.

Notes: Thanks to the person who sent this idea in :)

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It starts around a month after your honeymoon. Every single morning Quinn wakes to the sound of you throwing up and every single night he holds your hair back as you're sick over the toilet.

You pass it off as a bad stomach bug or anxiety, something different every time but Quinn doesn't believe you nor does he like what's happening. He's had many health scares with you; the chest infection that led to you being hospitalised after you nearly passed out at work being a prime example. As a result, he knows better than to assume that when you say you're fine, you're actually fine. Instead he sits with a heavy buzz of anxiety in his chest, a fear that something is seriously wrong but not knowing what and not knowing how best to convince you to get a check up and see the doctor about it. You’re stubborn to a fault. 

It's another one of those evenings where he's happily curled around in bed, blankets tucked in around both of you. You're in his arms, back to his chest, legs twisted together so that any movement jars the other, but you're so used to it at this point that sleeping apart is more difficult and less restful than navigating the tangled mass of limbs that the two of you become each night.

When you try to slip out of his arms he's awake like a shot, blinking through bleary eyes while you push his arms off you so that you can get up. Quinn lets you go, an instant release but he's quick to follow, footsteps padding on the carpet after you towards the bright light of the bathroom. Never once considering rolling over and going back to sleep.

"You okay, baby?" You're leaning over the sink, taking deep breaths, cheeks puffing out as you try your very best to not be sick again, nausea roiling through you. You’re so fed up of being sick, it’s become a routine that’s led to you being careful about what foods you eat in the morning and evening, learning what is the worst to throw up and what’s the least offensive thing to throw up.

All you can do is shake your head frantically before you're rushing to the toilet, knees hitting the floor with a loud thud as you lean over the toilet bowl to be sick. Quinn winces at the sound of your knees impacting tile and he's beside you in an instant, hands reaching for your hair to pull it back and out of your face so you don't have to worry about throwing up in your own hair.

"Oh, baby...just let it out..." A warm, free hand landing on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he feels the way your body jerks with each bout of sickness, your muscles contracting and relaxing each time. 

You’re crying, he can hear it, the way you whimper and whine because this is the worst and you’re fed up with being so violently sick…It only increases his worry because this has been going on for too long and it just doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

He stays beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back until you’re no longer vomiting. When you stop, cheek resting against the toilet seat in exhaustion he’s up and reaching for a glass to fill with water for you.

“Here, baby, have some water…” You take a mouthful only to spit it out in the toilet in an attempt to get the taste of vomit from your mouth, before downing the whole glass. It doesn’t really help much.

“I hate this…” You groan out, feeling silly because it’s not even like you feel ill most of the time, you just keep getting these random bouts of sickness in the mornings and evenings. Quinn shouldn’t be as worried as you know he is…it’s probably all in your head, maybe you’ve created a Pavolvian response to the morning and night time where your body expects to be sick, so you are?

“I know, baby…” Quinn runs a hand over your hair, pushing a few strands out of your face and behind your ear, he’s gentle about it, long fingers gingerly caressing your skin like he’s worried you’ll break, “You need to visit a doctor, baby.”

“It’s probably nothing, Quinn…I’ve just eaten something or have some sort of bug or something…” You don’t want to go to the doctors, you’re certain this will blow over soon, that it’s nothing serious and you hate the idea of taking more time off for it even as your husband looks at you like you might be the most stubborn human being on earth. 

“For weeks?”

“Quinn…” You sigh out his name because you don’t want to argue, because you’re tired. All you want is to go back to bed, curl up in his arms and get what little sleep you can before you have to go to work in the morning.

He must see how tired you are because whatever fight he had seems to leave his body, shoulders slumping, head nodding to himself like he’s made a decision in his mind to put this down for the moment even if he wants to keep going, repeat himself until you give in.

“Okay…okay, let’s get you to bed at least…” He gives up arguing because you’re so tired and have to be up at 6am for work. It’s bad enough you're not feeling well, let alone that you have to still teach like this, adding exhaustion to the mix is just a bad idea. He’ll keep pushing until you go to the doctors, but right now? Right now he can see you're tired and sleep is probably better for you than arguing at 1am. 

Quinn helps you to your feet, your hands resting in his much larger ones while he pulls you up. He keeps both hands on your hips the whole time as the two of you waddle your way back to bed, there’s part of him that worries you might fall or faint on the way back to bed, hands firmly gripping you just in case. 

He curls around you once you're both back under the covers, almost protective like he’s trying to shield you from some unseen threat and you nestle back into him, resting your head on the arm underneath you. 

The early morning throw up session had you completely wiped hours later, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that you felt dizzy as the day went on. Even more so because food was just not enticing you and you had skipped lunch when your sandwich made you feel queasy just looking at it. Each lesson felt harder and harder to teach and your last lesson of the day had your head reeling. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise with how dizzy you felt, how lightheaded you were, that you fainted completely in front of your students. Thankfully, you had felt it coming on, having lowered yourself to the ground mere seconds before it happened.

To give them their dues, your students who could have used that as an opportunity to cause a mess, do whatever they wanted and generally cause chaos, actually tried to help. They were so concerned for you that they got another member of staff to come help, David, your favourite trouble making hockey fan, put his rolled up Canucks hoodie underneath your head and Stacy checked you were still breathing. The fainting spell didn’t last long, within a minute or so you were back to consciousness and trying to sit up, staff and students trying to force you to lay back down. 

It’s Laura, the English teacher next door, who grabs your phone and calls your emergency contact, Quinn…even as you protest and tell her not to bother him, that you’re fine. All your protests go ignored by the forty year old, who had become something of a mentor and parental figure during your time at the school.

“Hi Quinn, sorry, it’s Laura from Y/N’s school?” You can’t quite tell what Quinn says on the other line, but you’re sure it’s along the lines of ‘what’s wrong?’ in a panicked tone because no one ever used your phone. You hate worrying him, he has so much on his shoulders already, so much weight there from the team, the season, his brothers…

“She’s fainted, do you think you could come get her? It’s the end of the school day anyway but I don’t think she should be driving home…thanks, Quinn.” 

You groan at her, tempted to tell her off for calling him against your wishes but you know she means well…you also know there’s absolutely no chance you’re getting away with avoiding the doctors now. In fact you wouldn’t be surprised if he drove you straight to the doctor's office after coming to get you…still, maybe you should see a doctor, what with throwing up all the time…and now fainting? 

Laura won’t even let you get up from your spot on the floor, packing your things away for you, getting your students to chill for the last 10 minutes of the day and waiting until Quinn arrives. You know she’s worried you’ll faint again, but it feels ridiculous, sitting on a cold, dirty classroom floor waiting for your husband to come get you.

“Hey, baby…” The way he stands in the doorway to your classroom when he finally arrives makes you want to cry. It’s like he’s scared you’re going to faint again, a sense of hesitancy and caution in his body language that you hate because Quinn is never like that around you. 

“Please don’t…don’t be scared of me, right now…” You feel like crying, wetness starting to fill your eyes and your voice coming out choked. You’re not even sure why you’re so emotional about him looking like that when Quinn’s always worried about you, it’s not a new development. He cares so he worries. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not scared of you…I’m worried, baby.” He’s crossing the space between you as quickly as possible, crouching down next to you with care, hands reaching for your face gently to rub his fingers across your cheeks to try and calm you down.

“I’m sorry…I don’t mean to be a bother…” Your eyes are so watery that Quinn’s face is a blurry mess, but even then you wouldn’t be able to mistake the serious set of his brow, the way his jaw clenches, how he always takes your concerns and worries seriously.

“Sweet girl, hey…you’re not a bother. You’re never a chore, okay? But I'm going to need you to accept that we need to go to the doctor's now, okay? I’ve already phoned them, they can see us in forty minutes.” You can’t really deny him, he’s been so patient with you, worried, but not pushing you to go to the doctors too much and you know he’s right…something’s not normal right now and you need to get checked out.

“Okay…” The smile he gives you is radiant, relief filled and bright like your answer is enough to make his day. It makes it worth it.

“Atta girl, right, let’s get you up off this floor, okay?” 

You nod at him, reaching for his outstretched hands and letting him grip yours tightly, your wedding rings gleaming and new under the fluorescence of the classroom lights. As Quinn stands he pulls you with him, helping you to your feet and holding you steady when you get a bit of a headrush from the sudden upright position.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, i’m good,” He doesn’t quite look like he believes you, “I promise, i’ll let you know if i’m not.”

He’s got an eye on you the entire way to his car, always watching in case you suddenly faint or trip or take a dive to the ground. You don’t, your dizzy spell has passed and now you just feel emotional and embarrassed about the whole thing. 

As is routine by now Quinn opens the car door for you and buckles your seatbelt, making sure it rests comfortably against you and isn’t digging into you at all. He goes a step further than normal though, reaching into the backseat to grab a blanket he keeps there for when you get cold, laying it over your lap and tucking it under your thighs like he’s worried you’ll get cold on the drive to the doctors. 

Quinn leans forward into the car, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently causing you to close your eyes, letting out a happy sigh. He lingers slightly, hand smoothing down some of your fly away hairs before he shuts the passenger side door and gets into the driver's seat. 

There’s a heavy silence that settles over the two of you while Quinn starts the drive to the doctor’s office. It’s a silence that screams that Quinn has things he wants to say, words he’s holding inside him right now and you wait patiently for him to break. 

It doesn’t take long, a few minutes pass before he’s watching you from the corner of his eye, “You need to start trusting me to handle knowing when something is wrong…” He sighs out at you, and you try not to cut him off, biting on your lip to force yourself to listen until he’s said what he needs to say. “I know you’re scared of being a burden and putting more stress on me, but, baby…I’m your husband. I need to know. I want to know. My job is to support you. I can’t do that if you’re not letting me in…” He reaches a hand across to squeeze your leg, an attempt to reassure you that he’s not mad, but that he wants you to trust him more and you get it…you do. You’ve been so reluctant to put any more stress on him, but here’s Quinn demanding that you do, telling you he wants to know when things aren’t quite right.

“I just…you have all this pressure on you and I don’t want to add to that.”

“Baby, the only stress you’re giving me is when you don’t let me help you…I need you to promise me you’re going to start relying on me more, please?” He can’t take it anymore. The way you try to hide how you’re doing, try to take all that onto yourself so that he doesn't get any of the pressure. You’re the only pressure he wants, fuck hockey, fuck the season, but he needs to know what’s wrong with you so he can fix it, so he can help you.

You reach for his hand on your leg, twisting your fingers in his and holding his hand tight, watching him glance at you out of the corner of his eye, focusing on the road for the most part. 

“I promise.” 

Quinn’s shoulders drop in relief, his need to support and protect you, to look after you already feeling better now that you’ve promised you’ll actually communicate with him properly. He loves you, but your fear of being a burden is his least favourite thing about you. He hates that people have made you feel like you have to minimise yourself, your problems. Hates that you’ve been trained to be so hyper independent and self reliant. 

“Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

You blink at the doctor like she’s insane because the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind that that was a possibility, that maybe you were pregnant.

“Uh, no…”

“Have you been using protection? Is it possible you’re pregnant?” You try to think back to your last period, late, try to think back to the last time Quinn and yourself had unprotected sex…your honeymoon. So over the moon, so giddy the two of you hadn’t really thought about it, forgoing the usual precautions because you were married now so it didn’t seem like such a big deal. 

You look at Quinn, the two of you sharing a look that says you’re both thinking back to your honeymoon, the two weeks of being absolutely feral for each other that you really didn’t think much about the consequences…well, you did, in a sense. Quinn had had a great time considering what you’d look like pregnant with his child, dirty talk filled with comments about getting you pregnant, but it had all been fantasies, silly in the moment dirty talk, neither of you had really considered (rather stupidly perhaps) that it might become a reality. You hadn’t thought…normally it wasn’t that easy for people and you’d always had concerns about fertility in your family in the past so why would it be that easy for you? 

“It’s…it’s possible.”

“Okay, I want you to go take this test and come back when you’re done. I think you might just be experiencing some really bad first trimester morning sickness.” You take the test offered to you, the little pee cup and pipette too, glad that she wasn’t expecting you to pee directly onto the stick…

“Do you want me to wait outside the door?” Quinn asks as you hesitantly get up, not really wanting to go alone, as silly as it was because all you were about to do was pee into a little cup and put some drops onto a pregnancy test, it wasn’t like you were going to do anything crazy. But, you’d never had to take a pregnancy test before, you’d never had to deal with the reality that you might be pregnant and even if it's with your literal husband it’s still kind of scary...

“Yes, please…” He’s reaching for your hand without any hesitation, guiding you out of the examination room and towards the toilets. 

You hesitate before entering, scared to find out the answer, unsure which you want to be true; that you’re pregnant or that there’s something else causing you to be sick and faint. You want kids, both of you have discussed it time and time again, but you always thought it would be planned, that the two of you would be actively trying when you got pregnant. 

“It’ll be okay, y’know? No matter what. If you’re not pregnant we’ll figure out what’s wrong and if you are? That’s a good thing, we wanted kids, baby.” Quinn can see you’re scared, the way you grip the test tighter, how you seem to stop breathing as you stare at the bathroom door. He’s trying to not get his hopes up, to temper some of the excitement he can feel because he really…fuck, he really hopes you’re pregnant, he’s so ready to be a dad, and it would be an added bonus to know you weren’t seriously ill, just dealing with the first trimester. 

“Yeah, just…wasn’t expecting it to potentially be this soon.”

“I know, baby, but it’ll be okay and mom’ll be over the moon.” You smile at the mention of Ellen, how excited she’ll be…heck Jack and Luke would be ecstatic to be uncles, suddenly things didn’t seem quite so scary when you considered the people around you, how supportive they would be.

“Yeah, she’ll probably scream down the phone…” If you’re pregnant goes unsaid but it’s there, the reality that maybe you’re both starting to get your hopes up for something that isn’t going to happen. 

“Okay…I can do this.”

“You’ve got this, baby…it’ll be okay,” He smiles at you one last time before you disappear into the bathroom.

Your hands shake the entire time you’re in there, completing the test and putting it on the side to wait. You pacing a hole into the floor, back and forth, back and forth as the time ticks down on your phone. In that time you start to get excited, nervous, but excited. The initial shock of potentially being pregnant disappearing in favour of thoughts about what it would be like to finally have your first child with Quinn…how he’d teach them to skate, how Luke and Jack would play with them at the lake house in the summer, how Ellen and Jim would be devoted grandparents, how you’d read them books every night and make your own Christmas traditions… Your nerves now centred on that possibility that you weren’t pregnant, that your hopes might be crushed.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look when the time was up, reaching for the door handle to Quinn pacing outside the door. His head shoots up the moment you open it.

“So?” Quinn looks so expectant, lips bitten and red from all his worrying, waiting for an answer. 

“I…I can’t look, can you check it for me?”

“Uh, yeah, course, baby.” You can tell he’s nervous too, but he steps inside the bathroom, locking it behind the two of you for privacy. You point to where the little, but no less life altering, test rests by the sink. 

You watch him walk over, watch the tension in his shoulders, how he looks at the little test, seems to read the marks, and then again, and again like he’s struggling to process it. You know the answer the moment his shoulders relax, the moment he turns to you with tears in his eyes and a wide smile, so wide across his face. He’s practically grinning, vibrant in the way he is after a won game or how he was at your wedding. The sort of vibrant that changes Quinn, his usually understated calmness wiped out in favour of pure unfiltered joy. 

“We’re…we’re having a baby…” Saying it feels unreal at first, that those two little lines can mean so much, that right now, in your tummy is your baby. The perfect mix of the two of you slowly growing into someone amazing, someone he’s so excited to meet. 

“Yeah?” You can feel your own excitement starting, hearing it is making it real, so fucking real. 

“Yeah, baby!” You’re crying, he’s crying, it’s a mess when you come together in a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you and lifting you off the floor to spin you around. You’re both crying into each other when his mouth slants over yours for a kiss, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, the other resting gently over your throat.

It’s a kiss that feels monumental, deep and filled with love, so much love that the taste of the salt from your tears does nothing to deter either of you as you cling to each other. The scratch of Quinn’s beard, the silky smoothness of his hair in your fingers, the way you cling to each other, you’ve not felt that happy since your wedding day, since you both finally said I do. It feels like the world has shifted on its axis in the most spectacular of ways and all that worry, all that fear is gone, just like that. 

He’s so fucking relieved, that’s part of it. God, is he excited that you’re pregnant, that he’s going to be a dad, but part of the excitement is relief, that you’re okay, that you’re not seriously ill. You’re just pregnant, just dealing with morning sickness and all the changes associated with growing a baby. 

When you pull apart neither of you go very far, foreheads pressed together, noses nuzzling against each other. His hands still cradle you close to him, his breath warm against your lips.

“We’re going to be parents…you’re going to be a mom…” There’s something about him saying it that makes it feel more real because it feels almost out of body of an experience, to find out you're pregnant when you had no plans to be. 

“Yeah…you’re going to be a dad…”

“Fuck, I love you…” Quinn kisses you again, soft but lingering as a hand comes down to rest against your belly, no sign yet of the bundle of cells that’s growing into a baby, “and I love this little bean too,”

“I love you too, you’re going to be so great, they’re going to love you.”

“They’re going to love us.”

[babypudge]

🍼🪞Mirror on the Ceiling🪞🍼

The house was impressive, despite still being under construction. Exactly why it was suggested as the venue for your second date was unclear, but you assumed it was just a power play - she was older, wealthy and probably trying to compensate for the age gap by flaunting a little. She needn't have, you'd been smitten from the first glance across the bar.

Entering a half-finished bedroom on the first floor, you couldn't help but notice something unusual - there was a giant mirror installed on the ceiling.

"Wait... is that so you can watch yourself in bed?" you smirked and pointed an accusing finger in her direction, feeling confident that this being the first stop on the tour was an extremely unsubtle way of flirting.

"Its so YOU can watch yourself in bed." came the winking reply, along with a playful one-finger bop on the nose on that seemed to emphasize her seniority over you, "I guess you could call this a "playroom" of sorts. Maybe you'd like to be my little boy-toy, hmmm?"

You couldn't believe it - the walls were unpainted, the floor was unfinished and the en suite bathroom lacked any hint of where the toilet would go - but there was already a mirror on the ceiling. Sure, it was a little weird, but at least you knew she wasn't uptight about sex.

All the same, with no furniture or carpet in the house, the night ended with nothing more than a peck on the cheek. Days become weeks, weeks became months, the relationship was getting serious, but somehow the house was nearly finished without you having gotten past second base.

"Don't worry, baby, you'll be seeing a lot of yourself in that mirror once the furniture gets delivered." was enough to keep you going. It became a little game between the two of you - so much so that you didn't think twice about being "forbidden" from entering the house during the final weeks of construction.

When the day of the house warming party eventually came, you were so excited that the mythic playroom was finally within reach.

"There's my little darling!" seemed like an unusual greeting to receive as you met your new love at the front door, but you didn't really think much of it. Nor did you think much about the glass of red wine you were handed being so bitter, despite otherwise tasting exactly like plain grape juice - you never really drank wine anyhow, so you marked it down to inexperience. A little alcohol always helped you mingle at parties, so you drank greedily as you stepped into the foyer.

The house was full of people you didn't know, but you recognized a couple you'd been on a few double dates with over in the living room. They were in a small group looking through a pile of something, but you couldn't get a good look at exactly what. Whatever it was, it seemed to be getting an odd mixture of reactions that ranged from "Aww, so adorable!" to "Uh oh!" - almost all of them followed by an smattering of laughter from everyone.

You assumed they must be going through material samples for something in the house that wasn't finished yet, it certainly looked like cloth of some sort, but it was too far away to be sure.

"Come over here, there's somebody special you need to meet!" she said, grabbing your hand and leading you into the kitchen.

"Heeey! There he is!" came an unexpectedly warm greeting from a man you'd never seen before. He was the "silver fox" type, and in many ways he reminded you of your new girlfriend. You assumed he must be her brother and did your best to act casual, despite a sudden feeling of light headedness.

"You know, honey, I wasn't so sure about this at first - but you were right, this house already feels more like a home with our little guy in it. He really is adorable..." the man reached out and gently stroked your face. You tried to recoil from his hand, but your reaction time was so delayed that he'd already finished before you could move a muscle. Everything felt strange and your brain was swimming in confused thoughts.

The man gently removed the nearly empty wine glass from your hand and put on an exaggerated look on concern. "Uh-oh, who gave the baby glass? C'mon tiger, give that to papa, its not safe for a munchkin like you. Let's get that into a baba - then you can make the rest of your nummy grape juice go all-gone for Mommy and Daddy, okay?"

You tried to ask what was going on, but the words just wouldn't come out - whatever was in that wine was working fast. Your eyes darted over to your "girlfriend" who seemed to be glowing with joy over the situation in front of her.

"You see, I told you that you'd be a natural at this, sweetheart. He isn't even settled into the nursery yet and you're already acting like an adoring father" she said, giving the man a peck on the cheek.

"Just remember, I'm only changing the wet diapers." he smirked.

"We'll see about that..." she chided "but speaking of which, we really should get our lil' lamb into his Huggies - the guy I got this stuff from warned me that people tend to lose control once they're knocked out. It's a little sad that baby will miss out on his first dirty diaper, but I'm sure everyone will take plenty of pictures for him to see later - besides, there'll be a LOT more where that came from!"

You gathered up all your remaining strength to try and run, but you didn't get more than a few steps out of the kitchen before collapsing onto the carpet. Crawling on all fours, you could see the front door and tried to move towards it.

"Ooooh, look, he's crawling! Where're ya' goin' tiger? Is my rugrat exploring his new home?" the man called after you with a surprisingly genuine parental tone. "Okay, everyone, we're ready to start the baby shower!"

Guests from all over the house converged in the front room, blocking your path to the door. They didn't seem to pay much attention to your plight - a few took pictures, a few cooed and pinched your cheeks, but nobody seemed to share your confusion.

Shortly before losing consciousness, you felt yourself being rolled onto a soft pad on the floor and your pants being unbuckled. Somebody placed something in your mouth and you couldn't seem to spit it out - you felt something cold and damp against your skin, then something soft being pulled between your legs, then another, and another. The sound of tape and the crinkle of plastic seemed to be coming from miles away as you finally succumbed to sleep.

When you awoke, all you could see was yourself strapped down in a giant crib, wearing a thick diaper, plastic pants and a onesie. It took a moment for it all to sink in, but you eventually accepted that this was no dream. Just as promised - you'd be getting a lot of time in the playroom, you were nothing more than her little boy-toy, and you'd be spending countless hours watching yourself in the mirror on the ceiling.

[wandaslittleweirdo]

WE NEED A PART TWO PRETTY PLEASE

https://www.tumblr.com/wandaslittleweirdo/757441289957638144/many-many-stepmommywanda-thoughts-tw-stepcest

A/N: turned out a little longer than expected…..heh..|| Part 1 , masterlist

tw: mentions of murder and blood, stepcest, dating a man, possessiveness, jealousy, pet names, this writer needs to stop skipping therapy, toxic relationships/attachments, manipulation, dom/sub dynamics, fucked up fluffy ending, age gap > reader is 22 wanda is 35

stepmommy!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader

ೀ Wanda had picked up the phone to call her friend from church, but paused when she heard your voice on the other line. She leaned over the counter, nibbling at the nail on her thumb as she curiously eavesdrops on your conversation. Your flirtatious tone directed to the disgustingly sweet boy made her jaw tighten, slamming the phone back down and gritting her teeth.

When you ended the call you walked into the kitchen and explained to Wanda that you’d be going out with a friend and will be back at a reasonable hour. She waited for you to tell her that it was a boy who obviously likes you and that it was actually a date, but you didn’t. You happily skip out of the kitchen with your sandwich and then off into your room. How dare you do this to her after she’d spent months and months perfecting you to how she wanted? Clearly, she needed to do something that you’d take seriously.

Matthew had picked out the most beautiful but quiet restaurant in town, knowing how anxious you get when it comes to new and busy places because of how strict your step mother is. He was refreshing and new, a breath of fresh air. He loved cracking jokes, but he could also be a little shy and got flustered easily. For example when you were both finished with dinner he scratched the back of his neck wondering if he could kiss you goodnight. You saw the nervousness in his eyes and you adored it, confidently taking his hand in yours before leaning up to kiss him.

But when he had visited the bathroom and didn’t come out, you assumed he got nervous and alerted him that you’d be leaving. You knew Wanda would be fuming if you stayed any longer. There was no response from his end, but you didn’t let yourself think about it too much. He’s just busy, you kept telling yourself.

You put the keys in the hole of your front door and twist it, listening to the faint click followed by the creak of the door handle as you pushed it down.

You gently push open the door and peek inside, a lamp from the living room casting its warm glow through your home. You creak the door open more and think Wanda must’ve left the light on before she went to bed.

Glancing into the lounge, the first thing you spot is Wanda’s back and her staring at something on the floor. It’s completely silent. No radio, no television, and the only movement you could hear is your own. You take one more step and freeze, paralysed by the sight in front of you.

Matthew’s body laying in a pool of blood, the thick liquid staining the carpet. His eyes are shut and his hands are painted in red, fatally attempting to cover the wounds on his stomach. Wanda towers over him, a kitchen knife coated in red gripped tightly in her hand. A tear of blood drips from the blade, and you watch it hit the ground to then it sinking into the carpet.

“W-Wh..” You lip quivered, voice cracking as you took a step back. “You’re home late.” She kicked the boy onto his back with her boot. You grabbed hold of the wall next to you, feeling dizzy watching his body flop lifelessly and how she showed no emotion to the deceased boy in front of her.

“I-Is that?..” She finally turns around to look at you and you felt chills run down your spine. You thought you had seen Wanda to her fullest potential, how sick and twisted she could be. But the blood sprinkled on her face and how it soaked several areas of her clothing made it clear that you never knew her as well as you thought you did.

A relieved smile hiked up her cheeks. She missed you so much. She also saw the terror in your eyes, not just for yourself but because you knew that simply pecking someone on the lips could put them in the same position as the poor gentleman who lays dead on the floor. This bought her a great sense of peace. You finally learnt your lesson, it’s a shame she had to go this far.

“There’s my girl.” Her voice softens as she stepped towards you, dropping the knife on the floor. You flinch hearing it clang, the sound ringing in your ears. You don’t catch her words, the only audible sound for you was your loud heartbeat and your ragged breathing. You couldn’t take your eyes away from him. A tear trickles down your cheek, causing her smile to fall and her demeanour to become hostile.

“Why are you crying Y/N? He was never going to love you like I do.”

“I told you I’d kill anyone who touches you. I warned you. You made me do this.”

“I’d do anything for you, sweet girl.” She calmly takes your chin between her fingers and places her other hand onto your shoulder. Her touch is delicate and familiar. So comforting and soft, you couldn’t help but lean into her. “You see now that I’d actually kill for you. And I’d do it again because I love so much, darling.” She leans down, tilting her head and brushing her lips against yours.

“Do you love me?” Your breathing quickens, reaching up and curling your fingers around the back of her neck to pull her closer. You eagerly tangle your hands in her hair as she moans, boldly pushing her tongue between your lips.

The kiss deepens and the world fades away. The heat of the moment, the rush of desire. It all felt so good, you could feel it in your chest and your stomach. You pull away and she whimpers, chasing your lips until you place a hand on her chest. Your faces now smeared with blood, you both smile. To others, this moment would be disturbing and inhumane. But for you and Wanda, it feels like the two of you against the world.

“I love you too, Wanda.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[d0youc0py]

heyy - 🍄

Can you write something with 141 reacting to the reader going to sleep alone in another room? like just the reader wanting to be alone or they fought. the way you prefer

Hurt/comfort ♥️ your writing is my favorite

Hi! 🍄Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this prompt!

He thought you were being dramatic. Too sensitive. And he made sure to let you know.

“It was just a joke, sweetheart. Nothing more. I’m a light sleeper, you know that.” His voice was careful, yet firm.

Even though he had assured you he hadn’t meant anything by it, here you were, staring at the ceiling as pm turned into am. He had his arm snug around you, tucking you under his chin. Normally this position had you out like a light, but now you were just focusing on trying not to breath too hard.

Earlier that day the two of you were relaxing on the couch when you commented on his yawn.

“You’ve been yawning a lot, Si. Should put you to bed early.” You snickered.

“Your fault.” He yawned again. “Movin around every five second.” His tone was teasing. His fingers even brushed up and down your foot that was resting in his lap. Despite this, your heart dropped. Were you really that uncomfortable to share a bed with?

Laying in bed was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Your side ached from you spending too much time on it. Your nose hadn’t stopped itching and it took everything in your power not to scratch it every five seconds. Even your quieted breathing felt like it was shaking the bed. The guest room was sounding more and more inviting. You’d be able to flip over whenever you wanted. Scratch that nose of yours, all without having to worry about stirring the sleeping giant behind you.

You carefully gripped his arm and squirmed your way out from under it. He woke up halfway, holding his arm up for you.

“Sorry, Si.” You whispered, guilt already tugging at you.

“Don’t even think about it.” He assured in a groan. He watched with curious eyes as you disappeared down the hall, instead of going to the bathroom like he assumed you were. You must be getting water.

One minuted turned into three, then three turned into five. He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face, your side of the bed already growing uncomfortably cold. His socked feet sunk into the plush carpet as he made his way down the hall. The kitchen light wasn’t on, but the guest bedroom that was normally shut was wide open. Even in the darkness he could make out the lump of your body- already asleep.

The realization was instant. And it hurt.

“Sweetheart.” He knocked at the open door. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. He needed to. You gasped awake, your head springing up from the pillows. It seemed even your absence kept him awake. “What do I have to say for you to get out of that head of yours?” He hummed, plopping down next to you. He leaned over you, pressing a slow kiss against your forehead.

“I just feel bad knowing I’m constantly waking you up.” You murmured, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sweetheart, waking up to you isn’t something to feel bad about. It’s nice, being woken up just because someone wants to be closer to you. Now we are going to knock it off with all this ‘afraid to wake me up shit’ and go back to our bed, you hear me?”

You did hear him.

“John, enough! I’m tired of arguing with you, I’m ready to go to bed.” You growled. He followed closely behind you towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Yeah, let’s just go to bed and forget all of this happened.” He mumbled from behind you. You began tugging off your clothes, throwing a glare his way.

“Don’t do that.” You chided, throwing you clothes on top of his in the hamper.

“Do what?” He gruffed back.

“Mumble things under your breath.” You explained. He tsked and rolled his eyes at you. The action caused another flare to ignite in your stomach. He reached into his dresser and pulled out a nightshirt, tugging it over his head. He reached back in and grabbed one for you, holding it out to you expectantly. It was your favorite shirt of his to wear.

“I’m not wearing that.” You spat, turning away from him. You marched to your shared bed and grabbed your pillow, beginning to make your way down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” He stopped you. His large frame taking up the whole doorway.

“John”-

“Love.” His voice was calm and you hated it. He should be more upset. Upset that you were upset with him. “Don’t go”-

“Why should I liste”-

“You need to stay in bed with me. That’s where you belong.” He said it as though it was a fact. “I know you’re not too happy with me right now, but you aren’t sleepin away from me tonight, honey. Now let’s go brush our teeth.”

*this is so dramatic*

Johnny had fucked up. He admitted it too. Yet it seemed no matter how many apologies flowed from him- you were determined to put a rift between the two of you. At least that’s how he saw it.

You yawned next to him on the couch, your hand brushing some hair out of your eyes.

“Gettin sleepy?” He hummed. You smiled softly, nodding your head.

“Should probably head to bed.” You yawned, stretching as you stood.

“You remember where it is?” It was a snotty comment. Distasteful. You had been sleeping in the guest bedroom for the past week. He was able to choke down his hatred for it the first few days, but after you referred to it as “your room” all grace had been lost.

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” You growled, not bothering to wait for an answer.

“Just don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on punishing me.” He shouted after you. You stopped, turning on your heels.

“Punishing you?” You snarled. “The only one getting punished in this situation is me John. I know to you I’m being dramatic but I really don’t know how I can trust you after all those shitty things you said to me.”

His chest twisted and his hand scratched at his shirt.

“I don’t know what else to do, sweetheart.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and it made you feel worse than you already did. “I’ve apologized in more ways than one and I’m still not getting through to you. I’m not saying I’m giving up, I just miss you. I know lashing out at you isn’t the answer.” He sighed rubbing at his face. He was exhausted- that was evident just by looking at him. You were his safe place- his favorite person in the whole world and he hurt you. “I made a mistake saying nasty shite to you, but I hope you remember everything before that. We’ve been together for years and I hoped I’ve showed you just how much I love you in that time.”

By the end of his speech tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“Dammit, Mac.” You huffed. You moved forward quickly, practically flinging yourself at him. He reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms tight around you with no intention to let you go. He wouldn’t let go till you forgave him.

You woke up to two arms wrapping around you.

“Ky.” You grumbled sleepily.

“You took so much medicine, I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He whispered back. You were sick and the last thing you wanted to do was get Kyle sick. He rubbed his hands over your stomach, the action already lulling you back to sleep.

“I just don’t want to make you sick.” You murmured. He ‘tsked’ at you, pulling you even closer to his warm body. You wished it was easier to stay away from him. He was the perfect temperature for your chilled body and he smelled like vanilla and coffee.

“I’d wear it like a badge of honor.” He smiled against you. You rolled your eyes.

“You just always find a way to make everything romantic don’t you.”

“Well I had to get you to fall for me one way.”

“Are you going to be this cheeky when you get sick?” You hummed.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but challenge accepted.”

[unfinishedslurs]

aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)

“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“

Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 

“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”

“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”

Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—

He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”

Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 

“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”

“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 

“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”

“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”

“What,” Steve says. 

“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 

“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”

His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”

“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”

“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”

He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 

Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.

“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”

“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”

“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”

“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”

“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 

“Dyke,” he shoots back. 

“Cocksucker.”

“Carpet—“

“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 

“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 

“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”

Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 

“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 

“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”

“You thought I—how would I know?”

The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!

“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”

“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.

“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”

“You know what flagging is?”

“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”

“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”

“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”

“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”

He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”

“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”

Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 

They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.

“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”

“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“

“That’s—I like topping!”

“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 

“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”

Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I told you he’s shy!”

“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”

“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”

“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”

“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”

“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”

“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 

“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“

“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”

“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”

Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”

“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”

“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”

Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”

Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”

He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”

“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”

It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”

Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 

“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”

“I figured that was a common occurrence.”

“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You were telling me how awesome I am?”

“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”

“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”

He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”

[wileys-russo]

hot and cold II a.russo

hot and cold || a.russo

it didn't take long after you woke up to see that alessia wasn’t herself.

for starters the girl wasn’t wrapped tightly around you as normal like a second skin, as she always was no matter the weather which caused much the broken sleep for you in summers when her taller form would insist she'd have to sleep practically on top of you.

the blonde instead today had chosen to sleep curled into herself on the very edge of the bed, seemingly as far away from you as she could get.

you'd reached out and absentmindedly began to trace shapes against the soft tanned skin of her back where her shirt had ridden up, but she mumbled something incoherent and shuffled further away from your touch.

assuming she’d just had a bad dream or wanted some space you’d not thought much of it at first still half asleep you'd drifted back off.

but awaking a couple of hours later you rolled over again and tugged softly on the back of your girlfriends top to let her know you were wanting her attention and affection.

but all alessia could do was murmur a quiet no and push your hands away, tucking her knees into her chest curling into a ball of sorts as your eyebrows knit into a concerned frown, pulling yourself to sit up.

alarm bells had gone off the moment you glanced down to see the sweat beading on her forehead and the obvious grimace of discomfort plastered across the blondes face, even whilst still half asleep.

you carefully leaned over and pressed the back of your hand to her forehead, gently knocking away her own as they tried to push you off with an annoyed grumble, frown deepening as you felt the obvious temperature she was running.

"baby you're burning up." you whispered softy, alessia staying quiet but pushing your hand away and shrugging it off as you tried to get her to roll onto her back and she refused.

instead your feet hit the carpet and you were out of the bedroom and downstairs in a flash, hastily darting around the kitchen and bathroom cabinet to grab what you needed.

in your brief absence the striker had now shuffled over into the middle of the bed, arms tightly hugging a pillow to her chest, duvet kicked off and precariously hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“less, baby.” you squatted down beside her, softly poking at her side as the older girl sighed deeply and turned over, cracking open one eye tiredly.

"what?" she muttered as you used a tissue to gently dab away the sweat on her forehead much to the noises of displeasure she let out at the gesture, but rapidly losing her energy to continue to push you off she let you do it.

“I think you’re sick, can I please take your temperature? your forehead is really warm.” you’d requested quietly with a small smile, moving to tenderly brush away the loose strands of blonde hair which were stuck stubbornly to her clammy sweat dampened skin.

“m’not sick, im fine.” alessia had grumbled sleepily, huffing again and rolling back over away from you and it was now your turn to sigh, having feared this would be her response.

there wasn’t anyone more stubborn or in denial when accused of being unwell than your blonde lovergirl, you were almost certain of it.

this behaviour though not new to you, never became any less worrying or frustrating when all your heart ached to do was take care of the girl who everyday would go above and beyond to do the same for you, but who you knew would fight you at nearly every turn convinced you were wrong.

you jumped suddenly and fell backwards, startled by the glaringly loud and shrill tone of your girlfriend’s 8am alarm, hurrying to your feet and the other side of the bed, tapping it off.

alessia groaned and pushed her head under the pillow at the noise, one final kick sending the duvet flying off the bed and hitting the floor with a thump.

a thin sheen of sweat covered her bare legs too, though the goosebumps on her arms as she hugged herself tightly with a slight shiver only further solidified your theory.

luckily for both you and her today was her rest day so she didn’t need to train, and the pair of you had no other commitments lined up.

but the paralysing fear of sleeping through or missing her alarms and being late for training meant alessia never ever turned them off, even on rest days.

“go away!” alessia pushed away your hands with a soft whine as you attempted to stick the thermometer in her mouth, your own frustration levels spiked a little but you were far from ill prepared for her response.

“lessi please just let me check your temperature and then you can go back to sleep. you’re burning up and i need to make sure it isn't too high or else we need to go see a doctor, aren’t you hot?” you asked, biting down on your bottom lip with concern as she shook her head stubbornly, half heartedly kicking your body away from hers as you tried to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

"no i'm cold." she mumbled as you stood and grabbed the duvet, shaking it out and placing it on top of her again, wincing as no sooner did you was it kicked back to the ground. "not that cold." your girlfriend huffed as you paused to take a breath.

“alessia. baby i love you very much and i know how you get when you’re sick better than anyone else. i know you don’t feel good and i know you’re grumpy and i know you're uncomfortable and you don't know why. but i just want to take care of you and try to make it better in anyway i can. please?” you tried again, squatting down to her eye level and pleading with her as unimpressed ocean blue eyes bore back into yours.

“for god sakes i am not sick im tired! we stayed up late watching that movie and i wanna sleep in. just get away from me then if you’re so fucking concerned that i'm sick, which i'm not!” the blonde growled, lashing out and moodily throwing her body to face the other way again, shoulders hunched and body language closed off as you dropped your head in defeat.

“fine, i’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath knowing she didn’t mean to snap at you, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when she did.

knowing the more you pushed right now the more she would push back you left her on her own as you closed the bedroom door behind you with a soft thud, padding downstairs with a shake of your head at alessia's stubbornness.

despite her insistence that she was fine you knew that she wasn’t, and you were still determined to take care of her even if that had to be from a distance for now.

so leaving her upstairs to rest you called your mum, having her talk you through the soup she’d always made for you as a child when you were unwell, hastily scribbling down notes and rushing around to see what you were missing.

dismissing her offers to come over and help knowing that would only worsen your girlfriends mood with her smothering, you left a quick note for alessia explaining your absence and stuck it on the fridge before ducking out to the shops.

meanwhile back up in bed in the solitude of her own company, alessia was now near boiling.

she’d tried everything to cool herself down not long after you'd left her.

the fan made her nose run, the hum of the air con made her head thump for and forcing herself into a cold shower which only made her nose run even more and her ears feel blocked and sore which then sprinted on into an absolutely pounding migraine as she nearly fell to the tiled floor of the shower.

so tired, miserable, achey and at her limit, the blonde was craving nothing but the comfort of your arms wrapped around her, now feeling even worse for how she’d treated you this morning.

this was always the routine though, alessia hated being sick, hated doctors, hated medicines and hated when there was aspects of her bodys behavior out of her control. so when someone tried to tell her that was the case her instinct was always to lash out and argue the diagnoses.

stripping down into only a singlet she sought out your company with an apology on the tip of her tongue, almost falling downstairs as she did, tripping over her own feet and letting out a cry of surprise as she just caught herself on the railing, stopping from tumbling head first with a shaky exhale.

squeezing her eyes shut with a wince a searing strike of pain shot through her head and suddenly the striker could feel her heartbeat in her ears. though when there wasn't any sign of you, no forever loving girlfriend rushing to her side with a teasing smile and a mocking joke about her two left feet, alessia's heart rate accelerated.

a sudden wave of nausea rocked the strikers body as she sniffled, wiping away at her nose which was running like a tap with the collar of her top, gripping so tightly to the railing her knuckles had now turned white as the dizzy spell eventually faded.

she called out hopefully for you. once, twice, and then a third time, each more desperate than the next as her chest tightened and she stumbled downstairs. did she go too far? did she finally push you away? had you left her? she couldn't blame you for any of those much as she was praying she was wrong.

the blonde let out a sigh of relief as she pressed her blisteringly hot forehead to the cool marble of the kitchen bench, taking a moment to try and collect herself a little as her head continued to pound.

a coughing fit suddenly wracked her body as she doubled over and grabbed at her stomach, throat red raw and throbbing as she staggered her way to the fridge, throwing it open and grabbing a bottle of water.

taking a few cautious sips amongst attempted deep breathes her body seemed to settle, and it was then she noticed the note you’d left for her on the fridge and had you been there you’d have seen her practically deflate as her eyes scanned the page, though she was also grateful you hadn't left because of her behavior this morning.

though her anguish was short lived as she threw herself down on the sofa, arms draped across her face to block out the light as she busied herself counting to 100 and back down again, something she’d done with you countless amounts of time when you’d been anxious on long plane rides, never having been a confident flyer.

but the girl barely made it to thirty before she heard your car pull in with a crunch of gravel and then a door slam shut. but before she could even force herself to sit up your keys jingled in the lock and the front door popped open.

you were so much so in a rush to return and get things prepped that you didn’t even notice the messy blonde head of hair staring at you from the sofa.

though once you did you let out a loud yelp of surprise, dropping a carrot to the ground and clutching at your chest as your heart rate sky rocketed and alessia finally forced herself up and to her feet.

"alessia! jesus christ." you exhaled catching your breath as it was only your girlfriend and not an intruder, rosy red nose and lily white pale complexion frowning at you a few feet away.

“you left.” was all the striker could manage to get out before another coughing fit wracked her body and your eyes widened, hurrying over to her aid and helping her slowly sit back down.

“here baby, small sips.” you encouraged gently, tilting the bottle of water to her lips and crouching down in between her legs as her chest heaved but the coughing fit passed.

“better?” you asked worriedly and your girlfriend let out a deep exhale, nodding tiredly as your heart ached to see the deep bags under her eyes and the broken look of pain behind them.

your legs beginning to cramp you stood to your feet, unable to even fully stand before arms wrapped around your torso and the italian latched onto you, burying her face in your chest as she remained sat on the sofa.

“i’m so sorry.” the girl managed to mumble out as her hands clung desperately to the back of your top, yours rubbing soothing circles into her back and promising her it was okay before gently pulling her off.

though that was to no use as the striker once more grabbed onto you, arms wrapping around the back of your thighs now as she bent forward, the blonde looking uncomfortable as she did, easily the taller one of the two of you.

“don’t go. please i didn't mean what i said earlier i want you, i need you.” she croaked out, chin resting against your stomach as she looked up to you, tears beginning to well in the corner of her eyes as your face softened.

“hey hey hey, love i just need you lay down here for a few minutes, i'm not going anywhere but to the kitchen. i’m gonna make some of my mums soup so we can try to get something good into your stomach, and i know you hate it but i need you to take some medicine. then i’m all yours lessi, i promise.” you once again tenderly brushed away a few matted strands of hair which clung to her forehead, taking the opportunity to check her temperature with the back of your hand, sighing in relief that it seemed to have lessened slightly from before.

“i’m not hungry or sick. i don't need soup or medicine, i need you.” the girl managed to get out, her voice incredibly raspy and fading fast with the ongoing coughing fits as she stared up at you, absolutely exhausted.

“i know baby but you are sick. so i need you to eat something and take some medicine to try and fight this so you aren't sick for very long, i just want you to feel better. then like i said i promise i’m all yours, i won't leave your side.” you reassured, nails gently scratching at her scalp as her eyes fluttered close in pleasure and she nodded, unwinding from you and laying back down on the sofa.

"thank you lessi, i'll be right back." you promised as she nodded, eyes slowly closing as exhaustion took over.

you darted away for a moment to grab the cough medicine and cold and flu tablets from the shopping bags, eventually encouraging your girlfriend to begrudgingly take both much to her disagreement.

“i’ll be as quick as i can, do you need anything for now?” you knelt down to press a loving kiss to her forehead, lips lingering there for a moment as you felt her shake her head, feebly mumbling for you to hurry making you smile.

within twenty minutes you had the soup going and had been making frequented checks on the blonde sprawled out on the sofa, sleep seeming to have caught up with her as she dozed on the couch, once more curled into a ball and coughing every now and then.

“you’re taking too long.” but a few moments after checking her temperature again it would seem you spoke too soon.

you felt the taller girl hunch over and press her face into your back, arms tightly wound around your mid section and you felt her overwhelming body heat suffocate you.

“i’m almost done baby, just go lay back down and i’ll be with you soon.” you tried to unwrap her from around you but were only met with a quiet grunt no and her refusal to let you go.

"i told you to hurry. i'm not leaving, i need you." she croaked as you melted, feeling her straighten up a little as her chin hooked onto your shoulder. "okay. i love you." you whispered, kissing her cheek as the blonde nodded, eyes closed again making you smile and tuck her hair behind her ear.

at least grateful she was back to her normal clingy self you gave into her demand to stay latched firmly onto you, softly murmuring for her to move with you every now and then as she clung on from behind and you stepped around the kitchen, finally finishing the soup and dishing up a bowl for the blonde attached firmly to your back.

you had her sit down again on the sofa, taking a seat beside her as the italians head slumped tiredly to your shoulder and she instantly melted into your side when you declined sitting on her lap like she tiredly tried to pull you to.

you flicked on the tv and threw on something light and funny, knowing the girl curled into you had always appreciated background or white noise but lowering the volume as to not further aggravate the headache she'd been complaining about the last half an hour.

with soft encouragement and coo’s of praise you managed to feed the blonde at least half the bowl of soup before she pushed it away with a shake of her head, mumbling she was full as you nodded in understanding and set it aside on the coffee table.

“cuddles?” the older girl croaked out, tilting her head back from where it rested on your shoulder and opening her arms, and you swooned at the girls soft nature. "i told you i need you." she added on with a grumpy scowl when you didn't answer her fast enough

“yeah baby, cuddles.” you promised, assisting her to switch positions with you as the two of you now lay down on the couch, alessia sprawled out half on top of you as her head thumped down tiredly on your chest, her arms locked around around you.

switching the movie over to something you knew she was more likely to settle down and watch you threaded one hand through her hair and snaked the other up the back of the thin singlet covering her, rubbing soothing circles into the slightly damp skin of her back, her temperature lowering but still very much not back to normal yet.

“kiss.” the blonde moved her head to look up at you expectantly and you smiled, pressing one to her forehead as she frowned. “proper kiss.” your girlfriend croaked out, puckering her lips expectantly as you again smiled but softly shook your head.

“you’re sick baby, not today. i can't look after you if i get sick too.” you tried to explain gently as her frown only deepened and you felt her pinch at your sides, adjusting on top of you so she could somewhat push herself up a little more.

“if you get sick i’ll just take care of you. so give me a kiss!” the grumpy blonde ordered as you sighed, knowing there was no way you could possibly win this with how cute and how stubborn she was.

"better take good care of me, germy." you teased pressing a quick kiss to her awaiting lips, following up with several more pecks before she could protest as her face slowly melted into a satisfied smile and she settled herself back down on top of you.

“you’re such a big baby when you’re sick alessia, honestly.” you teased quietly, sighing as once more the striker moved herself to sit up slightly and glare down at you.

though before she could argue her body convulsed as she coughed and darted to be out of your way, you rubbing at her back and pressing gentle kisses to her exposed shoulder before helping her to take a few sips of water.

"don't call me alessia." she grumbled out once she'd calmed, sending you an unimpressed look and you lay back down. “sorry lessi baby, i love you.” you corrected softly as she nodded, grumbling that was better and settling herself on top of you again.

“do you want me to put your hair up?” you offered a few minutes later, feeling the back of her neck start to rise in temperature where you’d been massaging it gently at it as the taller girl nodded.

slipping the hair tie off of your wrist you scraped her hair up into a messy bun, the blonde pressing a grateful kiss to your jaw as she scooted up your body, settling down again.

"thank you babe, i love you." the blonde mumbled as you echoed the words back. pushing up the back of her singlet your nails scratched absent minded patterns into her bare back, feeling the blonde sigh contentedly and tighten her grip on your top, material balled in between her fists as she pressed herself impossibly close into you.

mumbling sweet nothings to the italian your lips lingered on the crown of her forehead, feeling her eventually doze back off, grip onto you never loosening even as she did.

throughout the afternoon anytime you tried to move she would awaken, grumpily ordering you to stay and shifting on top of you, pressing a kiss to any inch of your skin she could find in the moment as you promised you weren’t going anywhere and she would once more doze off.

and stubborn, grumpy and soft as she was when unwell, you wouldn’t change her for anything in the whole entire world.

[salem-witch-slut]

He Doesn't Know (18+)

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You said you loved him all the time... But you couldn't care less about him. He wasn't her. No man could compare to Abby Anderson.

WARNINGS: Modern AU!, Semi-public sex (car sex), strap-on use (r!receiving), pussy eating, hair-pulling, choking, cheating, improper use of church parking lot, age gap (14 years), dom!Abby, sub!reader, no use of y/n, slight knife/blood kink, very aggressive sex (im warning you, it's intense)

WORD COUNT: 4K

A/N: You guys heard "Scotty Doesn't Know"? Yeah, well I heard the song and ran with it. Fight me. Also, I have very deep and disrespectful vendettas against men named Dylan. 95% of them suck.

Sunday morning was bathed in the golden light of the sun rising, basking the old church building in the most prolific illumination with the golden accent to the stain glass windows. Rainbows were cast across the carpet and over the walls, beating down on the patrons inside of the church pews. It was the epitome of holiness… and yet, you were nowhere to be found.

Not that they would look for you. You usually only showed up for the morning Sunday classes and then you would leave before service started… well, leave was a strong word. You were still around, but no one could ever find you, so they assumed you were gone. If only someone was hanging around the back parking lot where nobody ever looks, they would see a beat-up old van covered in decal stickers, and the entire vehicle was shaking against the concrete.

Your fingers moved quickly over the screen on your cell phone as you replied to your boyfriend on the other end of the text, biting down on the pillow underneath your chest and trying to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Yeah, tell him how much you love him,” The cruel, sexy voice behind you growled down in your ear. Your heart pounded in your chest as you sobbed into the pillow, strong veiny hands gripping at your ass and leaving clear bruise marks behind on your skin. “Can’t let him know… you’re creaming on my fucking dick, princess…”

“Ahhhh… Abby…” You whined, your back arching a bit more in order to look at the person who belonged to the voice. Hands released your ass before they dropped down on the floor of the van underneath you. Massive, muscular arms caged you down as you felt the tickle of her long blonde braid caress your cheek, her boots digging into the floorboards as she hammers that thick fake cock into your cunt.

It was the same every single Sunday… Abby would show up, you two would sit in class together, and then as soon as it was over, she was dragging you into her van and pushing your skirt up before fucking you senseless. Your boyfriend never came to church with you, so your absence was always excusable. He never even bothered to look to see if you were telling the truth. He trusted you, and that was his mistake.

Dylan was pathetic. He didn’t know how to make you feel wanted like Abby did. He didn’t know what you liked, nor did he take an active interest in the things you loved to do. Abby, on the other hand… Abby was your literal dream. Blonde, tall, built like a work horse, sweet and caring, rough… She was perfect. There was only one problem… Both of your parents were extremely homophobic. Not to mention you were 14 years younger than her.

At 20 years old, Abby was 34 and that was enough for your parents to freak out. You were in your second year of college, and you had been convinced you were straight… right until Abby walked into your life. At first, it was harmless flirting. And then, it quickly went to not flirting. Abby had been the one to make a move first. She pressed you against the bathroom door when she caught you going back to service.

And since that day, your life has never been the same. Your parents loved Dylan, and thought he was a proper gentleman. He went to church with his own family across town, and you went with your parents every single Sunday. Of course, you made up the lie that you would need to work after morning classes on Sunday, which they didn’t like at first but let slide.

It was the perfect guise to get you away from everyone and everything, and to sneak inside of Abby’s van… It was where the sin first began, and now it was where it would never stop.

You never got tired of this. You would always and forever love the feeling of Abby’s strap stretching your velvety walls as she bottomed out inside of you, holding you down like some filthy sex toy that she abused to her heart’s desire. You loved hearing her groan and growl out your name, calling you her little whore, saying how well you are taking her cock like she was made for you… watching you text your boyfriend and mocking you whenever you said you loved him.

“You love him, huh?” Abby breathed down against the back of your neck, moving your hair away from your shoulder and kissing along your skin. “Then why… is he not inside of your fucking pussy, right now?”

You didn’t love him, at all. He became annoying and desperate after 2 weeks and you wanted nothing more than to cut Dylan loose. But your parents adored him, and you kept up the charade just to pretend like you still had a straight bone in your body. When it all came down to it, whenever Abby texted you… you were at her every beckon call. You were hers, through and through. Dylan doesn’t ever come close to Abigail Anderson.

Your soft little cries filled the back of the van as Abby grabbed your wrists, the veins popping in her hands as she held your arms back and began to fuck with more vigor than before, probably fucking the van’s suspension and creating the most vulgar sounds imaginable. How you two were never, ever caught, you would never know.

“Fuck, take it baby,” Abby snarled, watching your ass bounce and jiggle with each snap of her hips against your own. Your moans carried in the small space, feeling like a fucking sauna with how hard you were breathing. Sweat dripped from her brow as she yanked on your arms, making your back arch even more, forcing you to look up at her from behind. “Nnngg, you look so fucking perfect… so fucking pretty, baby…”

“Abby,” You cried out, panting and drooling with each passing second. “Fuckfuckfuuuuck, d-don’t stop… don’t fucking stop—”

“You gonna cum for me, princess?” Abby smirked, reaching down and wrapping both of her massive hands around your neck and pulling you up until your back was pressed against her chest, the fabric of her jeans digging into your thighs and without a doubt going to leave a burn in its wake. “Go on, princess… be a good girl, yeah? Be my good little slut and cream all over my cock.”

You were so fucking close that it hurt! Right on the edge of your climax, so desperate to feel that sweet release and give Abby exactly what she wanted. Very slowly, Abby wrapped her huge forearm around your neck and with one hand, she slid it across the front of your dress, pausing to grip your breast before sliding her hand down the rest of the way and gently rubbing at your throbbing clit. You made a noise that was a cross between a cry and whimper and Abby groaned, deep in her throat.

“Fuck, that’s a pretty noise princess… like it when I rub your clit like that? Huh? Come on, come on! Fucking cum for me!” Her words sent shockwaves all over your body as you began to twitch and jerk in her hold. Abby kept her pace and basked in the sounds you made, watching as your legs wobbled and threatened to give out, forcing her to hold on even tighter and fuck you through your earth-shattering orgasm. “Good girl, good fucking girl, that’s it baby… just like that, yeah just like that…”

You were completely beyond forming coherent sentences, or even making comprehensible sounds as you collapsed against her body, drool dripping down your chin from your lips as a fresh set of tears tracked your face. Abby chuckled sweetly and slowly laid you down on the mass of blankets and pillows she started keeping in the back of her van just for you after events like this take place.

Abby took her time as she pulled her hips back, watching the thick silicone cock slide out of your stretched cunt, chuckling at the white ring around the base from your juices. You wanted to cry, feeling so empty now without her strap taking up your entire being. Abby let the toy flop down against your ass, and then gave your cheeks a rough smack, making your entire body jerk forward at the contact.

“Little slut,” Abby barked, pulling the harness off her hips and reaching down to grab at your hair. You don’t know why you thought she was done… Abby was never done. Of course, you didn’t want to be done. That would mean you two leave your little bubble that you created with her… In here, you were able to pretend that Abby was it. Abby was your everything and you could give up on this stupid ass mistake.

Before you could ask Abby what was next, she was forcing you on your back and unzipping her jeans. You watched her shimmy out of the fabric and made quick work of her boxers before she crouched over your face. If this wasn’t the sight of heaven, church hadn’t done shit for you. You started salivating almost instantly, grabbing at her hips and attempting to pull her down so you could enjoy the feast, but Abby was far too strong for you to control. She chuckled and ran a hand through your hair.

“Easy, princess… I know, you wanna taste this pussy so fucking bad, don’t you?” Abby grabbed your chin with one hand, sliding her thumb across your bottom lip and you sucked the digit into her mouth. Your tongue stroked over her flesh, and you slurped on her thumb, closing your eyes for a brief second and watching her grin before she pulled her hand away from your face, delivering a hard slap across your cheek. “Yeah baby, I know you fuckin’ love that, don’t you?”

Why you enjoyed it when she hit you, you would never truly understand. The stinging sensation left behind after she delivered a soft blow to your face, or your ass, even your cunt, you would be almost purring with desire and arousal. You loved how strong she was and loved it when she showed it without even trying. Abby always held back, never wanting to actually hurt you, but wanting to make you whine.

Without another hit, Abby lowered herself down and grabbed you by your hair once again, clutching your locks and making you gasp. “Open. Tongue out… all the way, princess…”

You opened your mouth up immediately at her command and stuck out your tongue as far as it could humanly go, drooling on your face and watching as she lowered herself down onto your mouth. You were quick to nuzzle your face into her cunt and you began to lick at her almost immediately, holding her by the hips and making the obscenest slurping sounds ever. Abby groaned, her head going back and her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Nnnnn… that’s my good little whore… fuck, no one eats my pussy like you do, sweet thing…” Your heart soared at her praise, paying attention to her clit and using the flat top of your tongue to lap at her like a dog drinking up water. The very thought of someone else having their mouth on her cunt had you moving with desperation. Abby was well aware of your stupid boyfriend, but you didn’t know how many girls she had doing this exact same thing… It turned you fucking feral.

A low moan rumbled out of you, sending vibrations through her clit as you wrapped your lips around the swollen nub and began sucking, hard. Abby bucked her hips against your face, her ass flexing in your hands before she shoved her whole fist against the side of the van. The movement of her body had your teeth scraping against her and she groaned with pleasure.

“Fuck, keep that up baby,” Abby praised, looking down and watching your eyes squinted shut and your brows knitted with what she could only assume was concentration. The noises your mouth created as you slurped, sucked, and drooled on her pussy were beyond vulgar, and if anybody from church could see you now, they would perform an exorcism, assuming you had been possessed by some filthy whore.

Your nails bit into Abby’s skin, creating crescent moon shaped indents in her ass as you released her clit with a wet slurp and scooted down a bit further. Abby rolled her hips forward, watching your eyes as they opened up and then rolled back in your head, almost drowning in her slick cunt. You took your time, mapping her out with your mouth before you gripped her strong, muscly thighs and began to push your tongue inside of her hot cavern. The noise Abby made was the start of a whimper, and then immediately faded into a snarl of aggressive pleasure.

“Fuck, princess… fuck, you dirty little slut… God you feel so fucking good on my pussy, sweet girl…” You practically cry with her praise, leaning into her hand as you thrust your tongue in and out of her, licking her spongey inner walls and feeling her practically bounce on your face as she humped your face.

You didn’t give a shit about anything else, and all that was on your mind was feeling Abby cum on your mouth. Your phone was lighting up, and Abby could see the countless texts from Dylan, and she had to resist everything inside of her to not pick up your phone to record you eating her out.

“You love the taste of my cunt, don’t you baby?” Abby moaned out, nails scratching across your scalp and making you whimper on her pussy. She rolled her hips slowly, grinding her clit against your nose and biting down on her bottom lip to try and keep her composure… But fuck, did you make it difficult…

Abby could feel her orgasm creeping up on her as she rode your face, tugging on your hair and shivering with pleasure that simply coursed over her entire body. And even though you were the one drinking her cunt, she was the one that felt like she was drowning. Her eyes rolled back, swear words tumbling from her mouth and filling the van that was one good thrust away from losing a damn wheel.

“Fuck, ngh, fuck… Fuck, go back, baby… Lick my clit just like before—” You immediately did as she told you, and Abby huffed with pleasure. “Just like that… shit, just like that babygirl… just… fucking leave him, baby… leave his stupid ass and be mine.”

You heard what she said, but it didn’t register… You kept licking at her clit and sucked on it every few seconds before flicking it hard with the tip of your tongue, sending her crashing into the most vulgar climax of her entire life. She chanted countless swear words over and over again as she chased her high against your face, coming closer and closer to falling apart on top of you.

Abby tossed her body forward and squeezed your face with her inner thighs, smushing your cheeks together before she bit her lip and tried to hold in her sounds but it became fucking impossible with you. “Fuck! Fuck! Don’t you fucking dare stop! Don’t. Fucking. Stop! C-Cumming… fuuuuck, m’cumming baby!”

Abby sounded so fucking wild whenever she would climax, and it made you horny all over again. Her hips twitched and pushed down into your face and you opened your mouth wide, lapping at her liquids that drooled out of her and onto your tongue. Her taste was fucking addictive, and she had to literally pry your hands off her legs in order to pull her pussy away from your mouth.

Your face was soaked from the bridge of your nose down to your chin, glistening with her arousal. You licked your lips and reached up to grab her by the front of her shirt and yanked her down, pressing your lips against hers. Abby groaned on your mouth and pushed her tongue in, drinking in her taste on your mouth and basking in everything that was you.

Another thing she had that Dylan sure fucking didn’t… her lips were so fucking soft and she tasted so, so good…

Both of you never addressed what she said, and when you stumbled out of her van and through the backdoor of the church to clean yourself up in the bathroom, you could hardly keep your knees from wobbling. Bruises were forming on your ass in the shape of her hands, and you rubbed your fingers across the marks, blushing at just remembering who gave them to you…

Abby found your panties in her front pocket when she got home, and she couldn’t stop from smelling them. Fuck, you smelled so fucking pretty; she’s never wanted someone more in her entire life than she wants you all of the damn time.

Even during the week, she was on your mind. You couldn’t shake her off. Abby was like a leech that you grew attached to and now its simply just apart of you. She fed off you, and you liked it that way. Abby liked playing your secret lover, but she would much rather be your one and only.

Fear of disownment had you paralyzed. You wanted nothing more than to tell your parents that you were happy, but with a woman. Abby was everything you could ever need…

“Fuck… Abby… Abby, ohmygod, Abby…” Your whimper echoed through the empty house, your parents gone for the afternoon. You were quick to invite Abby over, and she had you laying down on your bed in literal seconds, legs spread and tongue lapping at your pussy faster than you expected a human being to be able to lick.

The sounds of her eating your pussy echoed off the walls of your bedroom, your hands fisted in her long blonde hair that fell down her shoulders in soft waves due to always being in a braid. You loved her hair, and Abby loved it when you pulled on it, her eyes rolling back as she slobbered all over your cunt in the most explicit, wet, messy display ever.

Abby ate pussy like a woman starved! All tongue and lips, slurping and drooling, creating the biggest wet spot on your sheets and squeezing your thighs with her huge hands. You loved how messy she got, watching as she pulled back with her tongue hanging down, a thick string of saliva connecting her mouth to your pussy. She smirks, reaching down with one hand to slap your clit before she dives back down and immediately starts licking you without a care in the world.

You chanted her name, each time growing louder and louder. You always got so close so fast when Abby was eating you out… You were so close…

The sound of your phone ringing had you tensing up and Abby simply glanced up from your cunt, not stopping her movements even a little. Your hands shakingly grabbed at the phone, seeing Dylan’s picture appear on the screen. Your heart began to beat faster, gently swatting at Abby’s head.

“F-fuck, fuck, stop, wait,” You begged, watching her roll her eyes before she pulled back, rubbing her face against the inside of your thigh and watching how shaky your hands were when you answered the phone with a forced neutral expression. Of course, your flushed face was a dead giveaway to anyone else.

“H-Hey, baby, what’s up?” You said breathlessly. Abby rolled her eyes, kissing up and down your thighs as your boyfriend spoke on the other end of the phone. A hearty giggle erupted from your throat, and you responded. “N-No, I’m fine! Just uh… went for a run! Yeah, that’s all, don’t worry…”

Your face immediately brightened, and you looked down to see Abby slowly rubbing at your entire pussy with her hand, biting your inner thigh and basking in the expression you had on your face. You fell back on the bed and huffed, trying not to moan into the receiver as you listened to Dylan.

“To…Tonight? I-I-I’m not… not sure about that baby… I have a… fuck, assignment due… t-tomorrow,” You struggled to keep your noises neutral, biting down on your knuckle as Abby began to slowly ease her middle and ring finger inside of you. You bit down so hard that you left a bruise behind on your finger. “N-No! Y-You don’t h…have to come over… m’fine… t-totally fine…”

Abby was having none of your shit, and before you could prepare yourself, she grabbed your hip and slammed herself knuckle deep into your pussy. The sound you made was so loud that she was sure EUROPE heard you! Your eyes crossed in your head, and you yanked on the bed sheets above your head, completely abandoning your phone call for a second. Dylan asked you what happened, and you were quick to cover it up. “I’m okay! I’m o-okay, baby… j..just hit my arm, t-that’s all… fuck me…”

With a smirk, Abby immediately complied, spreading your legs a bit wider before she began to fuck you on her fingers like it was her damn birthright. Her digits were so thick and strong, hitting every single sweet spot inside of you and making you purr like a kitten for her. Pleasure raced down your spine and you whimpered into your hand, masking your noises as Dylan continued to say whatever the fuck he was saying, you weren’t listening.

“Fucking give me that,” Abby snapped, reaching for the phone and hanging up on him. Your eyes widened and you reached for the phone, but Abby tossed it to the far side of the bed before wrapping a hand around your neck and shoving you into the bed. Her pace picked up to brutal levels and you gasped against her movements. “I’m done, princess… Fucking done sharing you with him.”

“A-Abby, you… fuck…” The look in her eyes was wild as she pushed in a third finger and you reached out to grab the muscle on her shoulders, her hair creating a curtain around your face as she destroyed you.

“Say it,” Abby snarled. “Fucking leave him. You’re mine. You’re mine… you’re fucking mine!”

“Yours!” You cried out, rolling your whole body up against hers and digging your nails into her back. Abby bent down and began to kiss your face, trailing them down to your neck and latching her lips against the flesh of your throat. You groaned as she stretched out your pussy and left an absurd amount of hickies on your neck.

“No one… can fuck you like I do,” Abby rubbed your clit with her thumb as her fingers stroked your inner walls, making you see stars behind your eyes. “No one can kiss you like I do… no one can love you like I do…”

“Yours, Abby,” You whimpered, pushing your face into her neck, grinding down against her hand as you chased your orgasm on her thick digits, desperate to cum for her, and for her alone. “I’m yours… Only you… please, don’t stop! Please, so close…”

“Come on princess… my pretty girl, fucking cum for me…”

And you did exactly that. Your whole body shook with euphoria, and you raked your nails down her back, nearly drawing blood as you reached your high and squeezed around her fingers, liquid slowly gushing from your cunt and drenching her hands. Abby kissed your neck, and then your lips, tears tracking her face.

Finally… she finally had you…

It was made official with one text.

Dylan almost had a fucking heart attack at the photo an unknown number sent him. It was you, sprawled out on the bed, covered in hickies from your neck down to your chest, drool dripping from your lips with one very veiny hand and massive forearm holding you by the throat. You had a stupidly happy grin on your face and your cheeks were tinted with a deep pink blush from either overexertion or embarrassment. And on your stomach, there was something literally carved into your flesh, blood dripping from the fresh wound… it was an A.

There was only one block of text to accompany the picture.

She’s mine now, asshole.

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 13 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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Sam and I burst into the living room just as Quinn, covered in blood, stumbles out of her room and right into Anika who screams when she realizes the redhead is covered in blood.

“Run!” Chad shouts as Ghostface appears in the doorway of Quinn’s room. He grabs Tara’s hand and pulls her out of the apartment.

“Guys, come on!” Tara shouts over her shoulder, but before anyone can follow them, Ghostface lunges forward, blocking our path.

He swings his knife at Mindy and cuts her arm, making her cry out in pain.

“Mindy!” Anika sits up, shoving Quinn’s body off of her, only to be pinned down again by Ghostface the next second when he wraps his hand around her throat.

He pulls her to her feet and spins around, pressing her up against the wall before stabbing her in the stomach.

She screams and I see red, jumping into action before he can do anything else.

“Piece of shit!” I grunt and wrap my arms around him from behind, pulling him away from Anika and body slamming him into the ground before he even realizes what’s happening.

Yeah, take that, motherfucker.

Mindy instantly rushes to her girlfriend’s side and presses her hand against her stomach. The wound isn’t too bad, but something vital still could have been hit.

Ghostface coughs and reaches for his knife on the floor next to us, but I kick it out of reach and jump to my feet.

“Oh, no you don’t.”

He coughs again and I think, pathetic, but then it dawns on me that this is not the Ghostface form the bodega.

This one is weaker, and skinnier, too, but I don’t get the chance to dwell on it when Sam grabs my hand and pulls me into Quinn’s room after Mindy and Anika.

The front door is closed, so it’s safe to assume Tara and Chad won’t be able to come back in.

Good, at least they’re safe.

“Shit, are you hurt?” Sam asks frantically after locking the door. She runs her hands down my chest and over my stomach, looking for any injuries, but I just shake my head and grab her hands.

“No, I’m okay.” I press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “You?”

“I’m fine.” She exhales shakily.

It’s eerily quiet in the living room and so far Ghostface hasn’t tried to break down the door I’m leaning against.

Did I really do that big of a number on him?

“Guys. . .” Mindy’s alarmed whisper, as well as as the sound of something clattering somewhere in the apartment answers my question.

He’s going to come in through the Jack and Jill bathroom connecting Quinn’s and Tara’s room.

Shit. So he’s familiar with the apartment. . .

“The bathroom door!” Sam whisper-yells and we get to the door just in time to see Ghostface bursting into the bathroom through Tara’s room.

I try not to focus too much on the dead body of Quinn’s latest boytoy in the shower, and slam the door shut, pressing my back against it.

Not even a second later, Ghostface throws his body against it from the other side, but I dig my heels into the carpeted floor, preventing him from getting through.

He does it again, this time with more force and I grit my teeth when the force of it makes my neck hurt. I won’t be able to hold him back like this for long, but luckily Sam and Mindy have already jumped into action to help me.

They push a heavy dresser toward me while Ghostace repeatedly throws himself against the door, until, somehow, they manage to barricade the door with it.

Great, what now?

This won’t hold him off for long even though all three of us are now pushing against the dresser, keeping it in place while Ghostface tries to get to us.

Anika is backed into a far corner with wide eyes and her hand pressed against her stomach.

“Sam!”

A muffled shout makes all our heads snap to the window. Hanging out of his own window, waving frantically to get our attention is Danny.

Sam and I share a quick look before I nudge her in the direction of the window.

She opens it and I try to refocus on keeping Ghostface at bay with Mindy, but then she shouts, “Are you fucking kidding me?”, and I look back at her, my eyes widening when I see Danny pushing a ladder through his window, intent on bridging the gap between the two windows to give us a way out.

“You have a better idea?” he shouts and even though I don’t like that he and Sam used to be somewhat of a thing, I can’t help but be grateful that he’s helping us now.

Sam looks torn, but there’s no other way out. “Fuck. No. Okay, okay!”

She grabs the ladder as soon as it’s within reach and places it on the windowsill with shaking hands.

“Good. Now, come on!” Danny says, but instead of climbing through the window, Sam steps back and shakes her head.

“No, you go first, Anika,” she says, turning to the injured girl.

Ghostface lands a particular hard kick on the door, making Mindy and I wince. A stinging pain shoots down my spine, but I keep pushing against the dresser.

He’s not getting through until Sam, Mindy, and Anika are safe.

Anika whimpers, but hurries to Sam who helps her onto the ledge. She holds the ladder steady, Danny doing the same on the other side, and we all watch with bated breath as Anika makes her way across.

“I’ve got you,” Danny says as soon as she’s on the other side. He pulls her into his apartment and helps her settle against the wall before returning to the window. “Okay, next!”

“Mindy!” Sam shouts, and I have to nudge Mindy to get her to go.

“Go on, I’ll be—“ I groan when Ghosface kicks against the door again, “—fine!”

“Thank you.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of crying and rushes to the window.

She’s much faster than Anika and when she gets to the other side, I see her embrace Anika in a tight hug.

Good. They’re safe.

“Okay, now you, Sam!” I say through gritted teeth, my eyes widening slightly when I see that Ghosface somehow managed to stick his arm between the door and the doorframe.

“No,” Sam shakes her head adamantly and rushes over to help me push against the dresser. “I’m not leaving you behind again!”

For a moment, Ghostface stops and at first I think he might have given up, but then he slams into the door with such force, it makes both of us stumble forward.

“Fuck!” I cry out in pain, feeling like my spine just snapped in half with the force of the impact. “You’re not leaving me behind,” I say, quickly throwing myself back against the dresser. “I’m right behind you.”

“No.” Sam cries and tries to take my place against the dresser, but I shove her toward the window.

“Go, please! I promise, I’m right behind you!” I plead and when Sam sees the resolve in my eyes, she nods shakily and hurries to climb onto the ladder.

There’s no one on our side now to stabilize it, but Danny and Mindy have a good grip on it on the other side, so I’m not worried about anything happening to her as long as I can keep Ghostface at bay.

“Come on, Sam, you’ve got this,” Danny encourages her when she climbs onto the ladder.

She shakes and keeps looking down, but bit by bit she inches her way forward.

The ladder almost slips once, making my heart skip a beat, but in the end she makes it all the way across, unharmed.

She’s safe.

Relieved, I exhale, my body relaxing for a split second which is all it takes for Ghostface to knock me to my knees with one final shove against the door.

Sam screams. “Y/N!”

There’s no way I’m getting the dresser back in place to block the door, so it’s only a matter of seconds before Ghostface makes it into the room and I can either get on the ladder and hope to make it across before he gets to me, or fight him off until the police get here.

I debate the two options, and because my back hurts and I don’t see myself body slamming him again, I choose to go with the former of the two options.

I get to my feet and rush to the window, hearing Ghostface adamantly slamming the door against the dresser to create a big enough gap to slip into the room.

“Come on!” Mindy urges and I get onto the windowsill, ready to climb over the ladder.

Right before I can make my first move though, Ghostface bursts into the room behind me.

“Shit!” I hiss.

“Y/N, come on!” Sam cries, slapping the side of the ladder, but I ignore her, glancing over my shoulder to see Ghostface tilting his head menacingly.

He knows there’s no time for me to get over the ladder before he gets to it, so I do the only thing that will guarantee he doesn’t get to the others.

I take a hold of the ladder which makes Sam’s eyes light up with hope, but then I yank on it, making her lose her grip on it.

“Wha—No!” she screams when I shove the ladder over the ledge, watching it clatter against the dumpsters in the alley below us. “Y/N!”

Tears well in her eyes, and she looks at me with heartbreak all over her face, probably thinking I’m going to fight Ghostface again, but I have no intention of doing that.

All I do is kick him straight in the chest when he comes at me and climb back out onto the windowsill. I grit my teeth and shout, “Look out!” before pushing off the ledge and leaping toward the others without looking back.

I’m going to make it! I’m going to make it! Oh no. I’m not going to make it.

“Holy fuck! ” Mindy’s groan matches my own when I slam chest-first into the windowsill on the other side.

My ribs sting and my back throbs painfully, but there’s no time to focus on it since I’m a second away from plunging to my death.

I scramble for something to hold onto, my feet kicking against the brick wall in search for something to step on, but there’s nothing.

I can feel myself slipping, and my eyes widen in panic, but then Danny grabs onto my forearms and pulls me up and into the apartment.

I stumble forward, but Sam catches me and I wrap my arms around her trembling frame.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she whispers over and over again, curling her fingers into the fabric of my sweater.

“I’m okay,” I croak, feeling my knees shake from all the adrenaline cursing through me.

“You’re okay,” she repeats and I nod, dipping my head to give her a quick, reassuring kiss.

When I pull back, I catch Danny looking at us wistfully, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do Mindy and Anika who look surprised.

Ghostface is long gone in the other apartment, and I can just hope both Chad and Tara made it out safe.

“You saved my life,” Anika says quietly when I detach myself from Sam and guide her to lie on the floor. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I try my best to smile reassuringly and guide Mindy to press down on the wound on her stomach.

It’s not bleeding too much, but she’ll definitely need surgery and it’s best if she’s lying down until the paramedics get here in case she goes into shock.

“Police! Open up!” Someone bangs on Danny’s front door and he quickly excuses himself to go open it while I get back to my feet.

Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the pain in my ribs and my back hits me like a train and I wince, steadying myself with a hand on the wall.

“What’s wrong?” Sam is by my side almost instantly and I want to lie and tell her everything’s fine, but we just got our feelings for each other out in the open, so I decide to be honest.

“My back,” I say quietly, closing my eyes briefly when a wave of pain washes over me. “A-And my ribs.”

She touches my cheek with a worried frown. “Your back?”

It’s pretty obvious why my ribs hurt, but my back. . .

I don’t know why it hurts as much as it does, so when Sam tugs on my sweater, mumbling, “Can I see?” I nod.

I turn around and let her push the sweater up, shivering slightly when her fingers brush against my bare skin.

“I can’t see anything,” she says and I have to force myself not to flinch when she runs her fingers down the scar over my spine.

I sigh. “It’s probably nothing.”

Sam hums in thought, and moves her hands to my stinging ribs. Her touch is cool and I don’t mind it as long as she doesn’t apply too much pressure.

I look down and follow her fingers with my eyes, cringing inwardly when I see the already forming bruises on my skin.

“Shit,” she whispers, her concerned brown eyes meeting mine again. “Do you think they’re broken?”

I place my hand over hers and shrug. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. Whether they’re broken or not, there’s nothing I can do except rest and let them heal.”

Sam nods and sighs, pulling my sweater back in place before snaking her arms around my neck and hugging me.

“I hate this,” she mumbles against my neck. “I don’t want anyone else to die. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. . . I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too.”

A moment later, Police swarm the apartment and paramedics hurry to Anika’s side, assessing her injury while Mindy and Danny stand back and watch.

“Sam?! Y/N?!”

Tara.

Sam and I separate right as Tara comes rushing in, Chad right behind her.

“Sprout.” I pull her into a hug and let out a breath of relief. “You okay?”

She nods. “You?”

“Yeah,” I lie. There’s no need for her to worry about me. I’ve got Sam for that now.

“Good.” She squeezes me before moving on to Sam who hugs her sister with watery eyes and a quivering chin.

Chad watches with a sorrowful smile and I can’t help but pull him to the side and give him a quick hug, too.

“Thank you for getting Tara out of the apartment,” I say quietly.

“Of course,” he mumbles and when we pull apart, I can’t help but nudge him playfully.

“You better treat her right.”

He blinks in surprise, but not even a second later his ears turn red. “W-What?”

I just shoot him a knowing look and pull him with me to re-join the others.

I don’t know how we got here, but I couldn’t care less. Gale’s couch is extremely comfortable and if it wasn’t for Kirby, Tara, Chad, and Sam talking about what happened I would’ve fallen asleep a long time ago.

After giving our initial statements to the police back at Danny’s apartment, we came across Gale who offered us a place to stay until the police are done securing and cleaning the crime scene.

I wanted to protest and say no, so did Sam, but we were all so tired and when Gale promised she wouldn’t write about it, we finally agreed.

Quinn didn’t make it, a fact that puts a dampener on all our moods, but it’s no surprise, and we’re all so focused on what’s going to happen next that we’re not grieving her just yet.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” Kirby says, making me open my eyes. “You guys stay put for the time being. Get some rest and don’t talk to anyone about what happened.“

There goes my plan of checking in with Liam. I don’t know if he’s home, or actually went to stay with a friend.

Kirby shares a couple more encouraging words before getting shown out by Gale, leaving Chad, Tara, Sam, Danny, and I alone in the living room.

Mindy is at the hospital with Anika, and Ethan is God knows where, probably in his dorm room playing video games or something.

At first, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Danny coming with us, but he did save our lives and his apartment is also part of the crime scene the police are still securing.

“Hey guys, is anyone hungry?” Brooks, Gale’s boyfriend asks when he emerges from the kitchen with a phone in hand. “I was going to order some pizza.”

He’s surprisingly calm about this whole situation, but I guess that’s probably because he knew what he was getting into when he started dating Gale.

A murmur of yes’s makes him smile softly before excusing himself to order.

“I’m getting something to drink.” Tara declares, getting to her feet and dragging Chad to his feet as well. “Anyone else want anything?”

I shake my head, but Danny and Sam agree to a water.

Danny turns on the TV and skips through the channels until he finds the news. Surprisingly nothing is being reported about what happened yet, but instead of turning the TV back off, he settles back in his armchair and watches the news.

“How’s your back?” Sam asks quietly after closing the distance between us and resting her head on my shoulder. She takes my hand and plays with my fingers and I let her, relishing in the way her touch grounds me.

“Better,” I reply honestly, resting my cheek against the top of her head.

She sighs. “Good.”

The paramedics checked me out earlier, but just like Sam they couldn’t find anything amiss with my back. They simply wrapped some bandages around my chest to cushion my ribs and told me to go see a doctor if my back continues hurting.

The news anchor on the TV is the only thing breaking the silence for the next couple of moments until Tara and Chad return from the kitchen.

They’re talking quietly, carrying various drinks and bottles, but then Tara’s eyes land on Sam and me and her jaw drops.

Sam doesn’t notice, but I do, and when Tara shoots me an incredulous, questioning look, I simply nod and smile softly.

It makes Tara’s eyes wide for a moment before a smirk takes over her face and I groan inwardly, knowing that a whole bunch of teasing is coming my way.

Not just yet though because we’re all too tired and shaken by what went down tonight.

I really need some sleep.

_______________________________________________

Danny just sitting there in his armchair like 🧍‍♂️ hahahahha

Anyway, I hope you guys liked this part.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[ylangelegy]

omg "what? me? jealous? never." with junhui please! 🫶🫶

ⵌ actor!jun x actress!reader. ⵌ word count: 988 ⵌ notes: co-stars, secret relationship, pet names ('pretty girl'), suggestive joke, all my favorite tropes in a drabble. i miss this man sooo bad.

Jun loves award shows.

He loves having an excuse to dress up, loves getting to interact with other groups a little more openly, loves the special stages they get to put on. And if his gorgeous girlfriend happens to be a special emcee, well— that only makes it a much better night.

He's not allowed to be too excited, of course. He's always careful not to blow his cover. At most, the boys just seem to assume that you're his favorite co-star.

If only they knew that Jun's had the privilege of your heart for the past couple of years.

There's a bit of a thrill in sneaking around, in having to pull out his acting chops. Tonight, Jun lies about having to go to the bathroom, fields Minghao's invites for accompaniment, and navigates through all the other tables. Your text had been the only prompting he needed. It's like a waltz; his eyes on your back, the distance he keeps.

You side step in to a corner, behind a curtain, and he follows. The entire venue of idols, of actors, of Korea's biggest stars are none the wiser.

Jun's hands find immediate purchase at your waist. "Hey, pretty girl," he greets smoothly, that bright smile of his already lighting up his face.

You'll probably only have three minutes, but three minutes is all that Jun needs. He doesn't waste time. "Saw you on the red carpet earlier. You were stunning," he hums, his face going to nuzzle the underside of your ear.

"I think you're a little bit biased," you shoot back, unable to resist a jab. Your facade of annoyance is betrayed by the smile that's threatening to fill your own face. "But I think I can let it pass for tonight, 'specially since that suits of yours looks so good on you."

"I'd look even better out of it," he says unrepentantly. His arms tighten around your waist, holding you close when you try to pull back and away.

You let out a groan. Jun laughs softly.

Jun's lips brush against your jaw, then down the line of your throat. His nose skims your skin as he takes a breath. "You smell nice," he mumbles.

Cinnamon, sugar, vanilla. The same scent as his own cologne.

"You got me this at your Japan stop," you answer, your hands resting at his hips. It's not much, but it'll have to do for now.

"I should get you a perfume every time we have a stop abroad," he says.

"Yah, don't do that. You have expensive tastes. And you already get me too many things whenever you're on tour."

"What's the point of being an established artist at my big age if I can't spoil my pretty girl a little?" he grumbles petulantly. He tilts his head to press a kiss over your pulse. "Besides," he adds after a moment, "I like that you smell like me."

Smelling like Jun was just another one of those things. His subtle reminders in the form of innocuous couple items that only the two of you knew about. Cologne and perfume with similar notes, matching silk pajamas, rubber shoes from the same line. A quiet litany of mine, mine, mine in your every day lives.

You give a bright, warm laugh as you mumble into his hair, "I'll wear it more often, then."

You are so bad for him. A walking, talking dopamine rush. Everything about you makes Jun feel a little lightheaded, a little dizzy. Like he's had one too many to drink.

But you're also the one who sobers him up, the one who always says, "We should probably get going."

"Do we have to?" he whines. His arms around you tighten. He knows the answer to his question— yes, yes, you have to go. But he can't help wishing otherwise. "Five more minutes?"

Your nth sigh of the night. Even then— "Five more minutes," you concede.

His hands flatten out against your back, holding you more snugly against him. He could stay like this forever. Just your warmth against him, the scent of you in his nose, the sound of your steady breaths in his ear.

But you say five more minutes. And so he counts down from ten in his head. Ten, nine, eight…

Jun pulls back after the countdown and steals a long, deep kiss from your lips.

This was what it felt like to be alive. The way his blood pumped faster, his heart thumped harder. The way that your very presence made everything else seem dull in comparison.

The feeling only intensifies when you move closer. When you arch against him in that way you know he loves. When your fingers run through his hair.

Jun is all but breathless. He pulls away after long enough, leaning his forehead against yours. "I'm a terrible influence on you," he pants against your lips.

Your hand slides down to his face, your thumb ghosting over his mouth. "You got some on you," you grumble, and it takes him a moment to realize that you're fretting over lip gloss.

"Leave it," he says. "I like smelling like perfume and looking like I got kissed."

You shoot him a glare. He gives you cheeky grin.

When the two of you part, Jun is relegated to watch you from his table. You're radiant up on stage, perfectly composed and charming. You have stellar manufactured chemistry with your more recent co-star, and some of the boys decide to tease Jun about it.

"Looks like you've gotten replaced, Junpi," Jeonghan sing-songs.

Soonyoung nudges Jun in the side. "Jealous that you've lost your favorite co-star to Kim Soohyun?"

Jun barely stops himself from bursting into laughter. Replaced? Co-star? His members don't know the half of it. Jun absentmindedly runs a thumb over his bottom lip, where traces of you still linger.

"What? Me, jealous?" He breaks out into an innocent smile. "Never."

୨ৎ * GAME, SET, PLAY ! ( JEALOUSY ) DRABBLE GAME.

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP │01

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

➪ WC; 2.2k

✎ series masterlist

1. SHOCK AND DENIAL

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

▍31 MAY 2022

Jungkook returned home from work an hour earlier than he usually does, and his heart was racing as he fumbled with his keys. As he stepped into the house, he felt a knot of tension in his stomach that tightened with each passing second. His hands were slightly shaking as he placed his briefcase on the dining table with a soft thud.

He nervously nibbled on his lips, a habit he thought he had outgrown from his early childhood. He tiredly removed his suit jacket and draped it carefully over the back of a chair, leaving him in his plain white long-sleeved shirt and red tie.

You were supposed to be home two hours ago, but the house was oddly quiet. “Y/n?” he called out for you, his voice wavering slightly. He took a few tentative steps towards the kitchen, his shoes clicking softly on the hardwood floor. But you weren’t there.

He then decided to check upstairs. “Y/n?” he called out once again. The creak of the wooden steps under his feet was the only noise that accompanied him, until he reached the top where he could hear the shower running.

“I’m in the bathroom!” he heard a faint reply from you.

Heaving out a sigh, Jungkook plopped down on the neatly made bed. He rested his elbows on his knees while he hung his head low. He felt a dull ache in his heart that he couldn’t shake, and his mind was clouded with thoughts that had him restless for months.

He didn’t know how he was going to do this, but he knew he had to.

┄┄┄┄┄

Fifteen minutes later, you stepped out of the bathroom. Your damp hair clung to your shoulders, and droplets of water traced gentle paths down your skin. Wrapped in a plush, white towel, you felt recharged and a sense of serenity.

It had been a long tiring day at work, and you hoped that a nice hot shower would help wash away the day’s stress. You couldn’t bother having dinner, all you needed now was to snuggle up with your man and fall asleep at the sound of his steady heartbeat.

“You’re home early today” you grinned as you entered the bedroom.

But your grin quickly faltered when you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed with his fingers tugging on his once gelled locks as he hung his head low.

“Baby?” your voice was gentle, tinged with concern. You took a cautious step forward, your wet feet making faint impressions on the carpet.

Jungkook didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with unsaid words. You saw him rub his face with his hands before finally looking up at you. There was something written on his face. Something foreign that you couldn’t read.

“I need to talk to you” he said, “can you dress up and meet me downstairs?” he said. He tried to sound steady, yet the shakiness and tiredness in his voice betrayed him. And the way he looked at you with his dim hooded eyes, your heartbeat unknowingly began to pick up.

Having said that, Jungkook stood up and walked out of the room without sparing you another glance. You quietly watched him walk away, your brows slightly furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

You stood there thinking about what he might want to talk to you about.

For the past few months, you noticed subtle but unmistakable changes in Jungkook’s behavior. It started innocently enough — missed calls, delayed texts, and a general sense of distraction whenever you were together.

Most of the time, you could sense that he was forcing himself to smile. To do certain things that he used to do out of affection, like gifting you a bouquet of roses every Sunday evening when he comes home from work, which became a custom in your relationship.

And sometimes, what was once an unbroken routine began to slowly disrupt. Like making sure he booked every Friday off just to spend time with you, but now would spend time at his office.

Initially, you brushed it off, assuming it had to do with the pressures of Jungkook’s new role as CEO of his father’s company. After all, it was a significant responsibility, one that had been thrust upon him rather suddenly after his father decided to retire due to his health.

Jungkook had always been driven, he loved his job and what he was doing. But the promotion to CEO had brought about a new level of stress upon him. You knew he wasn’t ready just yet.

He was now responsible for the livelihoods of hundreds of employees, the strategic direction of the company, and maintaining the legacy his father had built over decades. However, his father promised him that he would do an amazing job, and that he’d make him proud no matter what.

You could see the weight of these demands and expectations in the lines of his face, and the exhaustion in his eyes. You understood that he was under immense pressure and tried to be as supportive as you could, giving him space to adjust to his new role.

However, as weeks turned into months, your initial understanding began to waver. Jungkook’s behavior became increasingly erratic. He started coming home late, often with no explanation. There were secretive phone calls that he would take in another room, and an air of detachment that seemed to grow by the day.

You found yourself in a state of constant worry as your mind raced with all the unanswered questions you had. And you made the effort to confront him, but he would often brush you away, saying he was just stressed. You knew it was more than that, but you didn’t press on the matter too much.

Jungkook was never the one to hide anything from you. He was always open to how he felt and all the things that were happening with and around him. The same went for you.

Now, the more you put your thoughts into this whole thing, the more anxious you felt.

┄┄┄┄┄

After drying your hair and changing into your favourite pink pyjamas, you went downstairs, feeling slightly uneasy.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you saw him. He was sitting on the couch with his hands clasped together and resting on his bouncing knees. His usual confident posture was replaced with one of tension and anxiousness.

You walked over to him, your presence breaking the silence that had settled in the room. He looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. But what stood out to you the most was the loss of spark in his eyes.

The sight tugged at your heart.

You sat down beside him, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Hey, what's going on?” you asked softly, your voice carrying both concern and love.

He took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to speak. “Y/n” he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I…I’ve been thinking about something lately. Something I’ve been feeling for a while, and it’s ” he continued, turning his gaze down to his fidgeting fingers.

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest at his tone. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as you braced yourself for whatever he was about to tell you.

You saw him pause, shutting his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, before opening them again.

“We need to break up”

His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, it’s blazing lightning striking you right in the heart.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. All the four walls around you felt like it was caving in, constraining you completely.

“What?” your voice was barely audible as your face dropped.

You were confused. So confused.

“Break up? What the hell are you talking about Jungkook?” you then questioned as your brows furrowed, defining the lines on your forehead.

Jungkook saw the way your lips trembled in panic, and it crushed him. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident.

“I can’t do this Y/n. It’s not fair to you. With everything going on at work, I've changed. You know that. I'm not the same person anymore, and it's not right to drag you through this with me. You deserve someone who can be there for you, completely” he said.

“No,” you shook your head, feeling your eyes water with tears which you fought to keep in.

“Where is all this really coming from Jungkook? I know it’s more than just work, and you know that too” your voice quivered.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he continued staring at you with his weary and empty eyes. He looked at you as if he had been caught, and he had no choice but to be completely honest with you, like he always had been.

But at the same time, the storm of emotion that was brewing inside him was starting to wreck his sanity, sending him to the edge.

“You really want to know?” he snapped.

You flinched at the sudden change in his tone and his hardened expression. You could sense the irritation in him growing with the way his jaw clenched and unclenched.

Nevertheless, you remained silent, until he spoke up.

“I’ve fallen out of love with you Y/n”

Each word he uttered felt like a physical blow to each corner of your sensitive body. Your eyes widened in disbelief, and your mind struggled to process what you had just heard.

“W-What?” you weakly croaked, feeling lumps of fat tears rolling down your pale cheeks.

“What do you m-mean?” you asked.

Jungkook slowly felt his anger dissipate, and he hung his head down in shame.

“Me overworking and spending less time with you like how we used to, I’ve been feeling so disconnected lately. I just…I just don’t feel the spark between us anymore Y/n” he tried to explain but fumbled with his words.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“I never meant for this to happen, I really didn’t Y/n. And I feel so fucking awful that I couldn’t be honest with you about it from the start and led you on thinking everything was okay” his voice cracked.

It felt surreal, like a nightmare from which you couldn't wake up. Your mind immediately went blank, struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

After ten years of sharing dreams, laughter, and countless memories, the foundation of your world was suddenly crumbling. You blinked rapidly, hoping to dispel the illusion, but his serious expression only confirmed your worst fears.

For ten years, you had been each other's rocks, from the naive excitement of your college years to the more settled, mature love of your late twenties. You both dreamed of getting married and having your own little family, but all that was now left was the shattered fragments of your heart.

A choked sob escaped your mouth but you quickly smacked your hand to cover your cries. Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes, he lost the courage to.

“Y-You’re lying” you shook your head in denial.

Your mind raced as you tried grasping for any logical explanation, but all you found was a tangled mess of confusion and hurt. You replayed his words in your head, hoping to find some hidden meaning, a clue that this was all a misunderstanding.

Jungkook’s heart ached at your denial, and he hated himself for dragging you deep into the ocean, and now you had no way of reaching back to the surface.

“You know I would never lie to you about something like this Y/n” he quietly answered, finally looking up at you.

There was a long silence. An uncomfortable one. The more you replayed his words altogether, the clearer everything became: he was serious.

“B-But everything was fine” you said, gasping for air as you spoke.

“I thought too, but things can change Y/n, and I’m sorry it had to be this way” he tried to explain.

You jumped up to your feet and stood in front of him, your chest rapidly rising and falling as you felt your body go into a hyperventilating mode.

“How can you just fall out of love Jungkook? We’ve been together for ten fucking years!” you spoke through your sobs.

Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, nose red and cheeks damp from the continuous tears. Your whole body was trembling as your mind fought between denial and acceptance of the given situation.

Jungkook stood up and took your hands in his, looking at you desperately like he wanted you to understand him. But your mind was blank, and all you could think was that you couldn’t let him go. Not the man who promised a future with you.

“Even the longest and strongest ships sailing in the sea fall apart Y/n. I never thought this would happen between us, but it did, and I’m so fucking sorry” he said, lightly squeezing your hands.

All you could do was stare at him in silence as you broke down completely in his arms. No matter how many times Jungkook mumbled sincere apologies to you, you knew it wasn’t going to fix the gaping hole in your heart.

‘This can’t be happening. No, it can’t.’

NEXT ➜

[seattlesellie]

could you make bff!ellie catching you masturbating and says something like ”i can help you if youd like” bc you couldnt climax when you do it yourself

caught ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

an: pretty self explanatory. nsfw, mdni please. part one of two!

yet another droplet of salty—sweet sweat fell on your top lip. you couldn’t get there, couldn’t you? no matter how hard you tried, no matter how hard you rutted against the fabric, the position your pillow was in— folded, to the side, with the tip; you just couldn’t do it. you couldn’t cum.

a pitiful whine fell from your lips. should an unfamiliar passerby chance upon the scene, they might have assumed that you were tormented, in agony.

the bittersweet twist in your stomach was truly just a tease. almost there, almost, in a fleeting moment— vanished into thin air.

would it be wrong to say that you looked absolutely pathetic? it probably wouldn’t be, it would be nothing but the truth. with your panties hung loose around your ankles, your toes curling inside of your soft white socks, your body feverishly oscillating back and forth, then sideways, tracing circles— and then just straight up humping, it was sad.

“oh— please, please!” you mewled, better yet, cried out.

perchance, you could get there if you pulled your erect nipples, if you pinched them just right, that tormenting tension would finally dissipate. you hastily took your pajama tank top off and threw it on the floor. you pulled on the swollen buds, twisted them slightly, only to elicit a shrill cry that escaped your lips.

“mmph— god!”

you were supposed to meet ellie at 4:30pm. or was it 4:15? 4:20? you wouldn’t know. the clock was ticking, and there you were, grinding yourself helplessly against your soft pillow. tick—tock.

it’s 4:13.

4:14:

ellie knocked on your apartment door. once, then twice, and finally she pressed the buzzer. she was starving, her mouth salivating, and the scent coming from the pizza box wasn’t helping in the slightest.

she buzzed it again, and to her dismay, no answer.

“ugh, cmon” she huffed, knocking forcefully again.

what were you doing? in the bathroom? showering? you must be busy somehow, with your earphones in, maybe?

you said 4:15pm. she wasn’t very forgetful, especially when it came to you.

biting down on her bottom lip, ellie remembered there’s a spare key conveniently tucked beneath the brown “welcome!” carpet. she knows this because you told her, when she walked you home, tipsy and giggling after a night out.

“right” she mumbled, balancing the large pizza box on her left hand. she bent down, and she was right. she remembered correctly— a spare key. as ellie swung open the door, she was greeted by an empty living room.

“hello?”

she paced around. maybe you were hiding underneath the kitchen table? pulling a prank on her? you goof.

“pizzas here…” she melodically chimed.

“and i'm… here too”

she pondered the possibility of someone having broken into your apartment and kidnapping you. could that be?

ugh, ellie. quit being so dramatic.

ellie placed the pizza box right on the kitchen counter, and began walking towards your room. maybe you were napping, that sounds like a much nicer thought. when the image of you cuddled up inside a fuzzy blanket popped into her mind, she chuckled. cute.

oh how terribly wrong she was.

you pressed against your pillow, causing the bed to emit two distinct squeaks.

ellie's head swiftly turned to the side, her steps growing closer and closer to your room. so you didn’t get kidnapped... you’re in there. jumping on the bed, perhaps?

as a high-pitched whimper escaped your lips, reaching her ears as if tethered by an invisible string, her heart sank. she was dangerously close to the wooden door now.

her breath caught in her throat. you were fucking somebody.

it was muffled, but the bed creaking and the whiney sob? her head was spinning in circles, palms itching and sweaty. not only did you completely forget about your plans, you were in there— letting someone fuck you. she didn’t even know you were seeing somebody. she didn’t even know you were doing that shit and that sweet, blissful moan? she dug crescent marks onto her palms as she clenched them tightly.

it was wrong. it was painfully wrong and creepy and perverted, but ellie had to see. she had to know who you were letting inside your bed, but she wasn’t about to interrupt. all she did, was twist the doorknob carefully, the door opening far enough for her to see, but still not enough for you to notice.

oh.

oh.

with your bare back on display, and your ass squished against the pillow— ellie felt like she was going to faint. your sweet, frustrated moans filled the room and ellie blinked so many times she was having a sensory overload.

this has to be a dream, she thought. one of her crazy ones, the only ones she doesn’t tell you about. her throat felt dry, and she had to swallow hard. ellie took a shaky breath in, and she nearly groaned. you were desperate, she swore she could see a sweet droplet of sweat flowing down your back.

ellie’s first instinct was shutting the door and leaving.

for the first time in her life, ellie didn’t listen to her instincts. she stood there, mouth agape, toes curling inside of her chucks.

“pleasepleaseplease, unggh—“ that little moan was so high pitched and sweet and ellie felt dizzy, faint, awestruck. she dug her trimmed fingernails right into her jeans covered thigh and pinched. this is a dream, ellie— wake up.

“oh god!”

wake up, ellie.

you got down on your elbows, and you dragged your aching clit all over the pillow. the bed squeaked again. she could see everything, the swollen button, your tight hole and your ass—

wake up, ellie.

“fuck” she huffed, and you still couldn’t hear a thing, too busy and too in trance, poorly trying to get yourself off.

when you humped the pillow again— ellie’s own clit pumped. like a faint heartbeat, she felt a dull ache growing and growing.

she stood there; dizzy, disgusting, turned on, like a peeping tom.

she should leave. she has to leave. why can’t she leave? her feet are glued to the floor and she can’t walk, paralyzed.

she could walk out of here and pretend it never happened. she could go home, rub one out, rub it again till it hurts and then see you the next day. this could be normal, she could be normal about this, can’t she?

“fuck!” you gave up. you weren’t getting there, this wasn’t happening today. you weren’t going to cum and you had to deal with it. slowly, you steadied your breath and grabbed your phone. it was 16:24, where is she? you decided to text her.

“when are u coming over? i’m starving”

ellie’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she nearly choked. there she was, frozen, staring.

thankfully, you didn’t hear it. in fact, you couldn’t hear anything— your ears were still pumping.

ellie swiftly took her phone out of her pocket and noticed her hands were shaking, it nearly slipped out of her grip. she shouldn’t answer. she should pretend that she had forgotten, she was napping, at the gym, working on something, god knows what. she shouldn’t answer.

but she did.

“give me 20 minutes, was at the gym”

you chuckled, and when you went to scratch your chin with your shoulder, ellie thought you were turning around and she nearly collapsed.

“lol u renewed your membership?”

oh shit. she cancelled it last month. her jeans felt too tight and her face was on fire and now she had to lie, again.

“yeah”

even as she typed— she couldn’t look away. your ass was on full display and it was something she had to burn into her memory. she would never see you like this ever again.

“i don’t believe you”

oh fuck.

“send proof ellie… need to know ur not just lying and hanging out with toxic stacy again”

is it possible that she completely forgot who you were talking about? was she that delirious?

“omg wrong name lol 🩷 i meant samantha”

oh, her.

is samantha’s pussy this pretty?

oh, she’s sick.

you giggled and adjusted yourself on the pillow again. when you laid completely down, ellie’s eyes rolled back.

“i’m at the gym… not lying, weirdo”

you sighed, and ellie heard it. the fact that she could hear every single one of your reactions to her texts made her cringe but it also made her feel something she’s never felt before.

“send a gym selfie then”

you weren’t intentionally flirting. it was purely innocent on your part, just that. you needed to know she wasn’t lying. why did her stomach flip?

she knew she had to have one. she knew she had to have at least one picture of her at the gym. she must have sent something back then, maybe to cat. cat loved her blurry gym pictures, the ones she sent her with the bottom of her tank-top in between her teeth and her toned abs on full display. she found it— after two whole minutes of aimless searching and scrolling. just what she thought, her abs, slightly sweaty and glistening, her thin happy trail, and her boxers peaking out from her sweats. she sent it so fast and she didn’t even think—

you stared at your screen. fully stared. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, why did she… that picture was… suggestive. your best friend is a weirdo and she’s also making your tummy feel like it’s being swarmed by angry bees.

“i believe u now :) see you in 20!”

ellie felt like punching herself in the face, but before she did, before she closed the door and got the hell out of there— you did something that was so unfathomable, she nearly went cross eyed. with ellie’s picture flashing on your phone, you began grinding again. the moan that fell from your lips was guttural, ravenous.

this wouldn’t even be the first time, wouldn’t it? getting off to the thought of your best friend?

this time, when the pillow met your clit again, you were wet and slimy and you seamlessly glided onto the plush fabric. you knew, deep down, that you could get there this time. if you were looking at her, at her sculpted abs with her shirt in her mouth you could actually cum. you didn't even bother thinking about it, about how wrong it is. she would never know, so what's the big deal?

this time— ellie has to wake herself up somehow. this was the sign, the only one that helped her make sure she knew that she was absolutely dreaming.

if this was, in fact, a dream— ellie would coo at you. she would walk over, ever so slowly, lift you up, help you get off of the pillow, and hold your hand. "poor thing, need my help?" when you'd nod, shed guide your body up and down and teach you just the right moves. shed take you by the waist and help you slide, suck on your nipples and look at you. occasionally— she would stop on her nibbling to mutter "all you needed to do was ask me, pretty girl"

but this isn't a dream. ellie knows this isn't a dream because she checked the time on her phone and a minute had passed and she knows it doesn't work like that in the dream realm.

would it be wrong if she slipped her hands right into her pants?

"please, ellie"

you moaned her name like you were ashamed. like you knew she was right there and she could hear you. what would you do if she was?

when ellie heard the whine of her name slip out of your mouth, her phone dropped down to the floor and hit it with a thud. for ellie, it sounded louder than a brick.

you turned around fast, you thought a vase had fallen. when you caught her gaze, because ellie couldn't. fucking. move— you weren't embarrassed. you were too mortified to be embarrassed, you screeched and you didn't speak. neither did ellie.

your lips were trembling and her hands were sweating profusely. you've never seen her look like this, she's never seen you look like this. she opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but she didn't. she stood, frozen.

you don't know when you managed to grab the blanket and wrap it around your body but you did.

she opened up her mouth again, but only a soft "ah" noise escaped from it.

"when d—did you..."

"just now" she lied.

"and you stood there f—for..." you stuttered. now, the embarrassment finally hit.

"i saw" ellie managed to speak, somehow.

she saw?

"w—what?

"i saw"

what did she see? your heart was beating fast. you’ve never felt this vulnerable, this exposed. what did she see?

you couldn’t speak. you wouldn’t dare. embarrassed, not able to make any eye contact with the green eyed girl, you stared at the floor.

“i think…” she stepped closer to you, and she kept her gaze on the floor as well.

“i can…”

another step. closer now, dangerously so.

your entire body trembled.

she looked up at you, finally.

“help”

[martiniblues]

weave your little webs of opacity ; 이민형

pairing spiderman!mark x female!reader

synopsis dating your friendly neighborhood spiderman was never an easy task. having to hide his identity from your family and friends was tough, but his life being put in constant danger was even worse. one night, he shows up at your window for reasons you feared most.

genre mutual comfort, so so so much fluff, slight angst, mark has cuts and bruises, reader uses she!her pronouns, established relationship, slightly suggestive towards the end.

wc 1.5k

tap tap tap

that’s what you heard as you lay in bed, attempting to fall asleep. you sat up, looking around your pitch-black room to navigate where the strange noise sprouted from. assuming it was nothing, you laid back down, pulling your comforter back up your body.

a few seconds passed before another sound was heard. "baby… it’s me." you could recognize that voice from anywhere.

mark.

quickly throwing yourself out of bed, you rushed to your window. after pushing up the glass, you were able to take in his appearance. he was wearing his spidey suit without the mask, revealing many cuts scattered across his beautiful cheekbones.

"mark what happened?" you quickly pulled him to your carpeted floor and examined the rest of his body. his suit was ripped in various places to expose more cuts that were littered across his abdomen and chest.

"it’s not too bad." he joked as his head fell back against the edge of your bed. you ignored his comment and held his face in your hands, inspecting it once more before running to your bathroom and grabbing your first aid kit.

crouching in front of him again, you began getting out the disinfectants and gauze you needed. "mmmm~" mark groaned, reaching for your waist and attempting to pull you to sit in his lap.

"dude, you have cuts all over you; i’m gonna hurt you!" you protested, trying to free yourself from his grip. "i think you being closer to me will help more than some stupid medicine." his head rolled to the side as he looked at you with a stupid smirk.

you fought back the urge to slap his chest but retorted to sitting in his lap after all. "you cheesy loser." you commented before working on moving his hair back from his face.

"hey, that’s not very nice. i’m injured here!" he whined, laying his head back once more. "baby, seriously, sit still." you held his head firmly as you picked up one of the soaked disinfectant cloths. "this might sting a little." you said before dabbing one of his cuts and quickly blowing on it softly to ease the stinging sensation he clearly felt due to the hiss that fell from his lips.

"i’m sorry." you cooed as you continued to work your way across his face. with every dab on his cuts, his grip got tighter on your waist.

after finishing his face, your fingers looped under the collar of his suit. "can i… um." you stuttered, knowing what was underneath. you and mark had been together for over a year, but still, the sight of him shirtless left you blushing like a little girl.

he laughed at your nervousness and kissed your flushed cheek. "you act like you’ve never seen me shirtless before." he teased you as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, making you grow even more red.

"whatever, i’m just making sure i won’t hurt you or anything." you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that you were burning from the inside out. "that’s not how you were last night-" he was quickly cut off by a hand to his mouth. "shut up!" you shrieked, causing him to laugh as your palm left his lips.

you began to slowly pull down his suit to rest at his waist. if this were any other scenario, you would have begun kissing him right then and there, but the sight of many cuts and bruises left your heart to pang with worry.

"oh mark…" your fingers lightly grazed over a large pink spot on his side that was slowly blooming into a dark bruise.

"yeah those guys weren’t playing around." he laughed, but you could see the pain stitched between his brows. "baby, you have to be careful. i don’t know what i’d do if-" mark cut you off instantly by pulling your lips to his.

suddenly, all worry melted away, and all you could feel was him. forgetting about the cuts and bruises between you two and just feeling him on you.

"i know. i don’t mean for things to end up this way." he sighs, slowly pulling away from you. the little light from your lamp next to you two left a beautiful glow on his breathtaking features.

"how could someone be so senseless as to mess up such a pretty face?" you said before you even had time to think about your words. mark’s cheeks instantly flushed at your words, biting his lip to hold back a toothy smile.

"i think it’s kinda hot, don’t you think?" he moved his face to show off his battle scars. "whatever…" you will admit that it is insanely hot when you ignore how they got there. but he doesn’t need to know that.

you continued your doctor-esc duties before realizing you never got an answer to how he ended up like this in the first place.

leaning back slightly, you softly held his face to look into his eyes. "what happened, mark?"

he sighed and stretched his body slightly before his hands came to rest on your hips once again. "these idiots were trying to rob the bank a couple blocks away, and i tried to stop it on my own, but it turns out they had some bats and plenty of rings on their fingers to nearly take me down. but…" he reached under himself to get his phone to show you the news headline that he (spiderman) had in fact beaten the criminals and gotten them arrested. "i got ‘em anyway." he smirked cockily while you tried not to slap him for his stupid actions.

"i’m proud of you and everything, " you averted your gaze from his phone to lock eyes with him, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "but you shouldn’t be doing these things on your own. i know you’re strong and amazing at what you do, but i worry about you all the time. these guys could have done so much worse to you if one thing went wrong!" you expressed your distaste for his actions.

mark did take you seriously because he knew what happened when he didn’t, but you just looked so pretty above him that he couldn’t find it to control himself.

"so you think i’m strong and amazing?" he teased, turning his face slightly to kiss your wrist that he now held. he then stretched his torso to accentuate his sculpted body and defined arms.

"that’s all you got from my speech?" you tilted your head in disappointment but still couldn’t fight your eyes from taking all of him in.

he just made it so hard.

"dude, you don’t even try to act like you don’t love it." he titled his head to catch your eyes but winced slightly when he irritated a specific cut on his jaw.

"okay pretty boy, just sit still for a minute; i’ll be back." kissing his cheek where he wasn’t hurt, you made your way to your closet, where you kept the clothes mark left at your house, which was quite a lot.

picking up a shirt and shorts, you made your way back to the boy, who began to take off his suit. your cheeks still flushed at his bare skin, even if you had seen it countless times. "it’s not polite to stare." he commented as he stole the clothes from your hands, beginning to pull his shorts up his legs.

you just rolled your eyes and sat on the edge of your bed, relishing in his appearance for the hundredth time that night. you helped him pull his shirt over his tender skin and guided him to sit against your headboard with you.

"aren’t you forgetting something?" he asked as you reached over to turn off your lamp, leaving only the moonlight to illuminate your bodies. "hmm?" you hummed, unsure of what you could have possibly forgotten. silently, mark tapped his cheek, his forehead, his lips, and finally his nose.

you laughed at the childish pout pulled on his lips and rolled over to be flush against him, making sure to avoid hurting him.

"oh how could i forget?" you could feel the smile on his lips as you kissed all over his face. it was lazy and slow due to your tiredness, but you also took your time, wanting to absorb as much of this moment as you could. even though mark always came back to you in one piece, the thought of that not always being true hung in your mind like a curse.

"i love you so much, mark. more than anything." you pulled away before kissing his lips softly. he pulled you closer to him, squeezing your hips and raking his fingers in your hair. "i love you (y/n). i promise that i will always come back to you." it was as if he could read your mind, and maybe he could with his spidey senses, but you would never know.

you two stayed like that all night, slowly and deeply expressing your love for each other. it wasn’t until the sun began to outline your figure from the window behind your body that you finally decided to sleep.

you two were both tangled endlessly in each other’s webs of love and wanted no way to escape.

© martiniblues | do not copy or translate my work!

notes | this is completely inspired by that one andrew garfield spiderman scene (ifykyk). there are not enough spidermark fics on here it’s truly tragic!!! hope you enjoyed <33

[bagopucks]

J. Drysdale - Orange, Orange, Orange

✄————————————

Jamie Drysdale x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): cuss words, reader wanting to strangle Trevor✨

—————————————

Everybody has their own playoff traditions. For most teams, it’s the beards. And every stadium also has a different approach. For the Anaheim Ducks and Honda Center, it’s ‘Paint It Orange.’

Jamie and Trevor go all out. Their apartment gets decorated completely. Orange throw pillows, orange plates and cups, orange shower curtain. Anything that can be replaced for cheap during the playoffs. It’s atrocious. I love seeing my boyfriend and his clingy bestie, but god I hate seeing that orange. It’s too much.

Do I tell them that? Absolutely not.

The boys love it. They love getting into the playoff spirit, and I’d even venture to say it’s a ritual now. A superstition that they add to every year. This year I was anticipating orange drapes or maybe even an orange carpet.. but I couldn’t have been farther from the right idea.

Trevor and Jamie had been radio silent all day. Both in our group chat and in individual texts. It was unlike them. Especially Jamie, who always texted me in the morning. I was suspicious, but I didn’t think too much into it. We were coming up on the first playoff game. Two days away. It was likely that they were only anxious. Antsy.

I thought maybe a quick box of donuts might be nice. I swung by a local donut shop and picked up two dozen before making the drive to their place. Jamie always enjoyed the jelly filled and chocolate covered ones, but Trevor had so many things he enjoyed that it was hard to remember all the flavors. And knowing these boys and their appetites, it was safer to get two dozen.

When I got to their place, I gently kicked their door with my foot a few times, seeing as my hands were full. I heard a faint, ‘coming’ from Trevor. I eyed the orange wreath on their door while I waited. It was new. That must have been the addition for this year’s playoff run. They hadn’t had one in a while. I would have expected something more drastic to celebrate.

When the door opened, I was met with a shirtless Trevor. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail -no doubt one I left behind at some point- and his shorts were covered in orange. His arms had a bit of the orange substance on them as well. My brow furrowed.

“Hey! You brought us donuts. That’s awesome.” Trevor smiled, “can you bring ‘em inside? Just toss them on the counter.” He stepped aside, letting me in before he shut the door and locked it.

“Trevor, what’s going on?” I asked as I walked through the house, greeted by the ugly oranges of their decorations. I set the boxes of donuts on the counter, opening one to pull out one of the jelly filled treats. I took a bite out of it as I turned to look at Trevor.

“Stuff.” He answered, nodding a little too dramatically for me to believe him.

“Where’s Jamie?”

“Out.” I didn’t like or believe that answer either.

“Doing what?” I pressed on.

“Hey! Who’s that?” I heard Jamie shout, his voice echoing from a room I could only assume was the bathroom. Trevor’s face fell the moment he knew he’d been caught in his own lie.

“It’s your girlfriend! She brought us donuts!” Trevor called, the volume of his voice irritating my ears. I winced.

“You’re such a liar, Trevor.” I scoffed out, shaking my head at him.

“Tell her to come here! She can help!” Even yelling, Jamie’s voice sounded soft.

Trevor looked at me with a cautious gaze, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Why don’t you want me here?” I immediately asked, accusation in my tone. Trevor refused to answer right out.

“Oh boy…” he mumbled. Clearly, he knew whatever I was about to see, I was not going to like. “Come on.”

I followed incredibly close behind Trevor, contemplating a few times, simply pushing him out of the way. But once we got to the bathroom, I was glad we’d taken our time getting there. It gave me time to brace myself.

The gasp I drew in was second to none, horrified and surprised in the worst ways.

I stood there in shock for maybe a total of ten seconds. A ticking time bomb.

“So… you like it?” The optimism in Trevor’s voice set me off.

“What the fuck?” I shouted, staring down at my shirtless boyfriend and his lathered orange hair. “Jamie! What the fuck?”

Trevor was standing behind me, and I could tell the boys were looking at each other when my boyfriend’s eyes drifted past me.

“This is why I told you not to invite her.” Trevor mumbled. I spun on my heels.

“Because I don’t want my boyfriend looking like..” I paused, looking back at Jamie. He flashed me a nervous smile. “Like the Lorax?” I wasn’t necessarily angry.. just.. caught off guard. Nobody informed me of this. Nobody told me I was going to have to look at Jamie like this for possibly months.

“So you don’t like it?” Jamie’s smooth voice piped up, causing my tense gaze to move from Trevor back to the once dark haired man. I pursed my lips, trying to calm myself as I noticed the concern in Jamie’s features.

“I’ll be honest with you J.. I don’t. No.” His face fell. I shook my head as I kicked my shoes off and stepped onto the dirty towels on the floor. I glanced at him in the mirror, then back down to his figure sitting on a foldable chair. I immediately reached for a silky lock of wet orange hair, still covered in fresh dye. “Oh my god…” I mumbled, feeling like a mother with her child.

“That bad, huh?” Jamie inquired, eyeing my reflection in the mirror.

“I love you.. just.. not your orange hair.” He was slow to nod. Jamie never liked knowing I didn’t like something. I always tried to tell him that it didn’t matter. Just because I didn’t like something, didn’t mean he needed to change it or throw it away. But he always wanted to make me happy. I could tell though, that this stressed him out. Because he couldn’t easily fix this.

“It’s not that bad.” Jamie tried to reason.

“No it’s pretty bad.” I wanted to card my hands through his hair, but I couldn’t. These idiots. God knows what this would turn out like. “Jame- your hair is so dark.. what if this turns out looking like shit? Like actual shit? Did you guys even bleach it enough?” Jamie, nor Trevor had a good response. So instead, my boyfriend opted to change the topic.

“Trevor‘s gonna do it too.” I looked back at Trevor while Jamie’s eyes were fixed on himself in the mirror.

Trevor shook his head with a snicker. My brow furrowed at his amusement, and the lines connected when I noticed Trevor was not worried about his own perfect hair.

I realized quickly that this was not a playoff ritual. This was Trevor tricking his best friend into something embarrassing. I would have considered it a prank if I didn’t know how humiliated Jamie would be once he found out.

I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to grab Trevor by the hair and throw him off the roof. Instead, I came up with a much less hostile approach.

“Thats really sweet of you Trev. At least if it ends badly Jamie won’t look… orange all alone.” I cooed. Trevor looked confused, but I let him off the hook for a moment.

“I don’t like this look.. I really don’t, but if it’s for playoffs, I understand. How much longer does this have to sit, J?” I asked, watching him reach for his phone on the stained counter.

“Thirty more minutes.” I nodded gestured for him to move and sit on the edge of the bath tub. He did so with ease.

“You want this?” I presented the donut I took a bite of to him, and Jamie quickly reached for it. He mumbled a sheepish, ‘thanks,” in return.

“Trevor,” I immediately turned to him. “I’ll help you with your hair.”

It was Trevor’s turn to be concerned, shaking his head and laughing anxiously.

“No.. no.. J’s got it.” He took a step back to escape the bathroom.

“No, I insist. I’d rather it not get anywhere else on Jamie anyway. His arm hair doesn’t need to be orange too. Come on.” I grabbed his arm, pulling him a bit forcefully back into the bathroom.

“I think it’ll look so good on you, Trev.” I taunted as I pushed him down into the chair. “J, can you go get me a drink from the fridge?” Jamie looked up from his phone and nodded, slipping out of the bathroom.

“Fuck you Trevor,” I hissed quietly, “you know how embarrassed he would have been? He probably would’ve chopped all his hair off.” Trevor’s eyes quickly found the floor. I wondered if he even thought this idea through entirely.

“I wish you wouldn’t be so rough on him sometimes. He’s not you, Trev.” My tone softened -though the annoyance remained- as I glanced down at all of the items on the counter. I reached for the bleach and prepped it before grabbing a spare pair of gloves, slipping them on.

“This one was pretty bad, huh?” Trevor muttered, right before Jamie returned with the water. I flashed him a smile as he set it on top of the toilet.

“Getzlaf‘s gonna love this look on you guys.” I was quick to change the subject, beginning to lather the bleach in Trevor’s hair. He may not have even needed it, but I decided to go with it for safe measure. I peeked over at Jamie, who was watching with curious eyes. I realized he already had another donut in hand. I also realized, that the poor kid’s eyebrows were still as dark as can be.

“He’ll support us.” Trevor reasoned.

“I’m sure he will.” Sarcasm laced my tone.

“I think we’ll look pretty cool.” Jamie’s excitement made me feel bad for knowing what I did about Trevor’s plans. And it made me feel bad for disagreeing in my head.

“The coolest, J.” I responded, trying to sound genuine.

It took me around ten minutes to get Trevor’s hair covered well. At that point, it was a waiting game for Jamie. Another fifteen minutes went by where I sat by my boyfriend on the lip of the bath tub, leaning on him as he scrolled through his phone, occasionally moving an orange lock from his eyes that kept falling astray. His mother didn’t like it when his hair got too long, I could only imagine what she’d say when she saw it was a whole new color.

When Jamie’s hair timer had gone off, I made Trevor go and grab me a cup. I helped Jamie sit on the floor and lean his head back into the bath tub, sighing to myself as I turned the bath tub on and found a comfortable temperature for the water.

When Trevor returned with the cup, I took it from him and filled it, resting my hand over Jamie’s eyes as I poured the first round of water through his hair, pushing my fingers through after. This was gonna take a while.

“I’ve seen you blonde.. but this is something else..” I mumbled. I did find momentary joy in the way Jamie’s eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling of having someone wash his hair. His orange hair.

“If this comes out bad, I’m taking you both to the local salon.” I added, getting to a point where the orange didn’t completely stain the water as it went down the drain. I turned off the tub faucet and asked Trevor to get me a towel, which he came back with faster than the cup.

“It’s not Carla,” Trevor shook his head. I glared at him.

“I don’t really care who it is. You’ll go unless you want to look like an off brand red head.” Jamie’s eyes opened, worriedly looking between me and his best friend.

I grabbed the towel from Trevor and turned back to my boyfriend, wrapping the towel around his hair and squeezing it a few times before I helped him sit up, and draped the towel over his shoulders.

“Move.” Trevor didn’t look very pleased that I was kicking him out of his seat, but he did nonetheless. Jamie slipped back into the foldable chair, and I bent over to search the cabinet beneath the sink for my spare hair dryer. When I spotted it, I was quick to pull it out.

I eyed the cord for a moment. “I don’t wrap my hairdryer cords like this.” I glanced between both boys, curious as to who had used my dryer while I was away.

“Sometimes my hair doesn’t dry fast enough before I go out.” Jamie’s gentle confession made my gaze soften.

I plugged the cord into the outlet and opened the medicine cabinet to grab one of the combs inside.

“Wait that’s mine!” I glared over at Trevor before putting the comb back and grabbing the other. Part of me wanted to snap his in half. Torturing Jamie and he still thought he could sit there and make requests.

I turned the hair dryer on, pointing it down at my lover as I slowly ran his comb through his hair. He looked pleased with all the attention. I didn’t mind it.. I just wished I could have given it to him under other circumstances that didn’t involve orange hair.

As his hair dried, the orange took on a much lighter look. Still hideous, but it looked like it would match the jerseys. Jamie took a few pictures of it.

When I had his hair mostly dry, I turned the dryer off and set it on the counter with the comb. I ran my fingers through his hair a few times, ruffling and fixing the part, before I leaned forward to press a kiss to his head.

“Do you like it now?” Jamie spoke softly, his eyes searched my expression in the mirror.

“It’ll grow on my eventually.” I tapped his shoulder. “You wanna help me finish Trev?”

“Oh! Yeah!”

“Trevor sit on the floor and lean your head over the bath.”

I repeated the process of washing hair with Trevor, this time with the help of Jamie, who really just handed me shampoo when I needed it.

When I had his hair washed and towel dried, I had him and Jamie switch places again, and I began to dry Trevor’s hair- with his own comb. After I was sure every strand was no longer damp, I put my dryer away and set Trevor’s comb aside.

“I think when we’re done, you guys should send some photos to your mothers.” I advised, smiling to myself at the thought of either woman’s reaction.

Jamie’s head shot up from his phone. Had he not considered his mother as a factor before agreeing to this?

“She’s gonna flip…”

He hadn’t.

“Oh my god, Jamie-“ I hid my face in my hands to mask my frustration.

“Can you call her with me?” His request was met with a reluctant no from myself.

“You made your bed, lover. And this one you have to lay in alone.” I chuckled. “Good luck.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾