#that's my 80 year old baby boy!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neos127 · 9 months ago

Text

enhypen x gn!reader | vulnerable moments

enhypen showing vulnerability in your relationship genre. fluff, some angst, hcs + established relationship cw. none!

heeseung

your boyfriend nearly laughed in your face when you suggested to give him a bath. ‘i’m not 80’ he drawled, causing you to roll your eyes. heeseung had been complaining about his body being a bit sore so you wanted to help him feel a bit better.

“let me take care of you…you never do.” you pouted, pushing heeseung in the direction of the bathroom.

“is this just a plot to get me to take my clothes o-” you shut the door in his face, telling him to get undressed. you had already prepared the bath tub for him, knowing that even though he would probably protest at first, you would get him in there somehow.

once heeseung called you back in, you giggled at the sight of him surrounded by bubbles. he looked relaxed, despite fighting the idea before.

when you knelt down next to the tub, you began to run soap over his body. you stopped to massage his shoulders a bit and heeseung hummed with content.

“didn’t know i was at a spa today.” heeseung joked, causing you to pinch his side. he yelped and turned his body to face you, a shocked expression on his face.

“shush, hee.” you giggled, turning him back around to continue washing him. after you were done, you handed heeseung a towel and walked out of the bathroom to give him privacy. for the rest of the night, you decided to pamper him. even doing his skincare which heeseung appreciated very much. he relaxed into your touch, smiling up at you as you applied lotion to his face.

“i love you alot, you know?” heeseung spoke up before placing a light kiss on your hand. you smiled back at him.

“i love you too.”

jay

“why do you always act that way around him?” you sighed, facing your boyfriend who looked just as upset as you were. the two of you had come back to jay’s apartment after meeting up with some friends, one of them being a guy that jay didn’t like. he claimed that your friend actually had a crush on you, he may have been right but at the moment you were too upset to care.

“it doesn’t matter if he likes me or not, im dating you!” you exclaimed, tired of the argument that wasn’t going anywhere. jay was fuming, pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor.

“it does matter! what if you see how great he is after hanging out with him so much? what if you see how much better he could be for you than i am.” he replied, his voice cracking a bit. all anger you once had suddenly vanished and instead you felt sad. jay was jealous, sure, but only because he hadn’t felt secure in your relationship.

you wordlessly walk over to jay before wrapping your arms around him into a hug. he immediately reciprocates, not being able to stay mad at you for very long.

“sometimes i feel like i’m not good enough for you.” he mumbles, his grip still firm around your waist. you pull away slightly to look at his handsome face, smiling at him reassuringly.

“you’re more than enough. you’re everything to me, jay, please don’t ever forget that.”

jake

jake was sure he was in heaven, his head resting on your stomach as your fingers ran through his hair. jake let out a few low hums, his eye closed as he basked in the feeling of having you with him. the boy was fully relaxed and completely at your mercy, but he was comfortable. jake always felt comfortable around you, enough to even let you baby him a bit.

“you’re so tired, huh? had a long day?” you asked softly, your voice nearly a whisper but your tone was as if you were speaking to a small animal. jake knew his friends would have a a laugh if they saw him like that, responding to your words as if he weren’t a fully grown 21 year old.

“mhm.” he hummed in response, snuggling his head impossibly deeper into your hoodie, the one that smelled like your sweet perfume that he adored so much.

sunghoon

you walked into your boyfriend’s room, expecting him to be sleeping or playing a game on his computer. you didn’t expect to see him simply staring out his window, playing with his hands idly.

“sunghoon?” you broke the silence, causing your boyfriend to look at you with a sad expression. you immediately rushed over to him, sitting next to the boy on his bed.

“what happened?” you ask, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his eye. sunghoon takes a deep breath before explaining everything to you— how drained he was, how at times he felt as if he wasn’t good at what he did. he poured out his heart to you, telling you exactly how he felt. he suddenly became choked up, his eyes watering with unshed tears. and then, sunghoon began to cry.

you froze, not knowing how to react considering that you had never seen your boyfriend cry before. he tried to cover his face, but the way his shoulders shook and the sounds of soft cries filling the room showed that he was truly upset. the sight broke your heart and you immediately pulled sunghoon into your chest. he wrapped his arms around your waist, crying into your shirt.

“it’s okay, it’ll be okay.” you mumbled softly as you ran your hands through sunghoon’s hair to comfort him.

sunoo

towards the beginning of your relationship, sunoo had been very hesitant with affection. you two would hold hands and exchange soft kisses, but he hadn’t been one for cuddling and long hugs.

one day, to your surprise, sunoo decided that he wanted to be extra close to you. the two of you were resting on the couch watching a movie and you had decided to lay down. sunoo laid down behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist burying his face into your neck. you tensed at the sudden action, not expecting your boyfriend to cuddle you. sunoo thought you were uncomfortable and went to pull away.

“no! you can stay like that- i was just shocked that’s all.” you spoke up, placing his arms back around your waist.

“im sorry that i haven’t been as affectionate.” sunoo sighed, tightening his hold around your waist. you smiled and pushed yourself further into him, feeling warm and comforted in his embrace.

“don’t apologize, sun. i love you regardless.”

jungwon

jungwon appearing at the doorframe of your dark room did scare you a bit. he had just stood there quietly, similar to horror movie characters before they attack their victim.

“you okay?” you asked your boyfriend before sitting up from your bed and turning on the small bedside lamp. a frown was evident on jungwon’s face, his eyes glossy.

“not really.” he tried to crack a smile, which looked like more of a grimace. you extended your arms, a silent invitation for jungwon to join you. the boy slowly trudged over to your bed, plopping himself down on the mattress, half of his body ontop of yours.

jungwon explained everything to you, how he felt and how his mental health had been affected recently due to his stress. you listened attentively, letting him rant to you, even if some of his words became a jumbled mess. as soon as he was finished speaking, he slumped into your body, the weight of his bottled up feelings had finally been released.

you ran your hand across his back and held him close, feeling happy that he decided to open up to you. during your relationship so far you had never had such talks with jungwon. but it seemed as if you were turning over a new leaf.

riki

he just couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so gorgeous, adorable, pretty— any similar word riki could think of. you looked up at your boyfriend, dropping the lego piece that you were holding in your hand. usually riki looked away when he caught you staring, but this time he met your gaze.

“what?” you asked sharply, not meaning for it to come out that way but you suddenly felt self conscious due to his eye contact. riki didn’t take your tone to heart, simply shrugging his shoulders.

“i love you.” he mumbled, still looking at you from across the set of legos you were both building. you paused, your stomach exploding with butterflies.

“i love you a lot and you mean everything to me. i know i probably don’t say it often, but i just wanted you to know. i hope to be by your side for a long time.” riki added on, suddenly becoming shy and looking away. you smiled before crawling over to riki and pulling him into a hug. the boy had never been so open with you before but you appreciated it greatly.

“i love you too, ki. i promise to be by your side for a very long time.” you replied, pulling back slightly and holding your pinky out. riki looked down at your hand and chuckled before linking his pinky with yours.

taglist — @boyfhee @junityy @aenify @iilwji @catzisb1og @greentulip @starantulas @jakesangel @heeblurs @pshbites

2K notes · View notes

captain-huggy-bear · 5 months ago

Text

Priorities

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Illness/comfort

Summary: When Quinn gets a text from you 2 hours before his game, he shows where his priorities lie when he drops it all for you.

Series: Teacher Reader series

Notes: I am not very well atm and I had to drive home dizzy from work the other day, the idea of Quinn being there to help has been stuck in my head so have some self indulgence from me.

A kind of sequel to In Sickness and in Health but you don't need to read that to read this.

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

Writing Masterlist

He's already at the rink getting ready for the game in the locker room when his phone goes off. You don't actually ring him, clearly doing that thing you always do where you're trying to not bother him on a game day, instead you send a quick text message. He expects the usual:

'Good luck on the game today, baby!'

Instead, the text he gets has him picking his phone up and calling you back in an instant, worry clouding his judgement and making his hands shake slightly.

'Hey, so guess who's being sent home because she's dizzy and can't breathe? I had my head between my legs for 20 minutes, definitely can't stand and teach. Have a good game x'.

You drop the good luck at the end like he's not supposed to be worried, like you've just casually told him about the weather and not that you we're struggling to breathe.

It doesn't really matter that Tocc is giving him the look, the one he reserves for when he's annoyed at the boys, or that half the locker room have stopped their own pre-game, pre-warm up routines to watch their captain frantically call you. He's pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to pick up the phone.

"Quinn?" You sound so incredibly breathless its like listening to an asthmatic 80 year old who's smoked for half their life. Except you don't smoke and you're not asthmatic or 80 which makes the whole situation about 10 times worse because you shouldn't be struggling to breathe. You should be doing better today.

You've been ill, he knows this, a chest infection he forced you to get meds for on the weekend. Meds which should have started working by now, a heavy dose of antibiotics and steroids which were supposed to have helped. You'd felt well enough this morning to go in and give work another go, but he regrets letting you do that now. Clearly trying to stand up in front of teenagers and talk was not something you should have been doing, not when the school day had only started half an hour ago and you were already being sent home.

"Baby, are okay?" You're sitting on the front steps of the school with all your things when you answer the phone to Quinn's worried voice. You keep telling yourself you just need a minute, just a minute and then you won't feel so dizzy, won't feel so breathless. Just a minute and the tingles in your fingers will go and your hands will stop shaking so much. Just a minute and then you can drive home and get into bed.

"Y-yeah, I'm...I'm just breathless. I'll be okay...they're...they're covering my...my lessons and..." You stop for a minute, taking big deep breathes, you sound so laboured on the phone that Quinn can't help but clench his phone tighter in his hand, "and I'm going home now." Your breaths are wheezy, just like Saturday, in fact he's certain you sound worse.

"How are you getting home?" He knows the answer before you say it and he hates it before he even hears it. You're dizzy and breathless and there is no way you should be driving home at all, but he knows you. Self-reliant to a fault, a martyr, always pushing yourself past the point of no return because you think you're fine, because you convince yourself you're fine. Because you don't want to inconvenience anyone or cause more problems. You ask to little of people around you, expecting barely anything despite all you give.

"I'm...I'm going to...to drive."

"No. You're not. I'm going to come get you." You want to protest a lot more than you do if you're being honest. But, you're so tired and it's so hard to breathe and students wandering in late to school are staring at you like you're having a break down. So your protests are relatively lacklustre by your usual standard. That actually worries him more.

"It's...there's like 2 hours before the game...you've...you've got warm ups soon." You hate the idea of him missing warm ups or god forbid the game, all because you were too stupid to realise you shouldn't have gone into work in the first place.

"So, I'll get you, take you home and come back to the rink and play. I'll walk to the school tomorrow and collect your car so you don't have to worry about it. But, you aren't driving, baby. If you even try to get in that car I will being fucking pissed. I love you, you do not get in that car." You know he's serious in that moment, not just because he's very rarely angry at you or anyone but himself, outside of the rink, but because he's got that clipped tone he only uses when he's serious. This isn't a request, it's a direct order and you have no intention of disobeying it, not when you know he's right...not when it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside that he's so insistent about your wellbeing.

"But, what...what if you miss warm ups?" He loves how much you support him and his hockey, he always will, but he hates that your first thought is that hockey should come first. His girlfriend can barely breathe right now and he quite honestly doesn't give a flying fuck if he misses warm ups. The team had to pull themselves together at some point and you came first. Always. If they couldn't manage warm ups without him then what was the point of paying them so much money?

"Warm ups aren't my priority, baby. You are. Do not get in the car. Do not drive. Do not move. I'm leaving right now, okay? Just sit on the steps of the school and take deep breaths." He's already grabbing his keys, not even bothering to change out of his gear other than putting some proper shoes on so that he can actually drive. He knows it'll spark some speculation and rumours, Captain of the Canucks storming out of the arena 2 hours before puck drop in full gear except his skates, but he doesn't fucking care about that right now.

"...Okay...thank you, Quinny. I love you." You say it because in that moment you have never felt so loved, to have someone drop everything, something so important, to come get you...Maybe its the meds, maybe its the breathlessness, the infection, but you feel like crying a little because of how sweet he is even when he's bossing you about.

"I'll see you soon, baby. I love you too."

He doesn't waste time once he hangs up, just turns straight to Tocc and tells him, "I'll be back."

The look he gets is a mixture of disbelief, frustration and confusion and he really can't blame Tocc for it. Not when Quinn is the captain, the player that seems to make a massive difference on the ice, and he's about to run out the doors 2 hours before the game? Yeah, he knows Tocc doesn't want to hear it.

"Quinn, where you going? We have a game in 2 hours?!" He knows he's going to be cutting it fine with Vancouver traffic and getting to your school, the apartment and back to the arena, but he's not letting you drive. He could live with missing a game, losing a game, but he couldn't live with himself if he let you drive home and something happened. His job was to look after you, if he failed at that? What was the fucking point?

"Tocc, I'll be back. I promise. But, right now my girlfriend is unable to breathe and dizzy and I'm not letting her drive home, okay? Sooner I leave, sooner I come back."

Maybe it's the insistence on Quinn's face, the reality that if he was forced to stay he wouldn't play well anyway. Maybe it's that you and Tocc get along and he can see a hint of concern in the other man's eyes or maybe Tocc just trusts him that much. But, he actually agrees to let him go. Not that Quinn could really be forced to stay. They'd have to tie him to the bench.

"Okay, I'm trusting you."

"Thanks."

Quinn ignores every single person he storms past, every employee, every fan outside, every person with a camera that starts asking him where he's going as he starts his car with one destination in mind. Maybe he seems rude, maybe he seems standoffish, but he doesn't really care because right now you are sat on the steps of a school struggling to breathe and he just wants to see you and get you home and into bed.

He doesn't even care that he knows Tocc is going to be questioned about his absence or that he can already hear his phone pinging with notifications from social media, most likely people asking where he was going and speculating.

'Just saw Quinn Hughes storm out of Rogers Arena in full gear, finally got fed up of his team?'

'Um, is anyone else panicking that Hughes just left the arena like 2 hours before puck drop?'

'Captain Lexapro has officially lost it with this team, just stormed out of the arena!!'

He tries his best not to break any traffic laws getting to you, despite the fact he has a lead foot that wants to press harder on the accelerator. But, he knows you'd hate it and you'd worry more about him getting a ticket, so he just grips the steering wheel tighter until he's turning into the school car park.

He doesn't try to park in a proper space, just pulls up as close to you as possible before hopping out. Your head is between your legs, shoulders rising and falling in laboured breaths and he feels like he's been punched in the stomach at how bad you sound.

"Oh, baby..." He's kneeling on the dirty ground within seconds and you try, through broken gasps to tell him he'll get his hockey socks dirty, but he doesn't listen to you, just reaches to pull you into a hug.

"Let's get you home, okay? Tomorrow we're going back to the doctors, okay?" You're leaning your head into his shoulder so heavily that he's worried you might actually pass out. It's like the moment his arms wrap around you, you just give up on holding yourself up. In truth, that's kind of what happens. You just want to lean into him, soak up the comfort of your boyfriend lighting petting your hair and whispering into your ear.

"Don't y-you have...practice?"

"I think I can fit the doctors in around practice, baby..." He doesn't tell you, but he'd forgo practice for you. He doesn't care about anything but how you're doing and you're not okay. Quinn can see that better than anyone.

"Alright, up you get..." He stands first, hands reaching for yours to help pull you to your feet. You sway before him like you're on a 16th century galleon in a thunderstorm, forehead plonking on his chest heavily, "Atta, girl. There we go." He just strokes your hair and back while you wait for the dizziness to pass, he knows each second will make him later to the arena but he's not going to rush you when you're struggling just to stand without fainting.

"Alright, let me get your stuff and then we'll take it one step at a time, baby, okay?"

"O..okay...one step...at a time." He tries his best not to let go of you completely as he bundles your work bag onto his shoulder. Quinn is as quick as he can be with it, before pulling you under his arm and helping you inch step by step towards the car.

It's slow going, every few steps you get a little dizzy and he waits for you to nod before he pushes you forward again. You're drained, dark circles under your eyes and skin losing some of its usual colour by the time you reach the car.

Quinn had purposefully pulled up the car with the passenger side facing you and you're thankful not to have to walk around the car as you brace yourself against the door for a moment. Quinn helps ease you into the seat, reaching over to put your seatbelt on for you and adjust the headrest so you can lean back. It eases some of the weight in your chest.

"Nearly home, okay, baby?"

You just nod, exhausted as his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, spreading a soft sort of affection through your already aching chest. He's so gentle as he looks down at you, fingers rubbing circles in your cheeks, but he looks so worried and you feel so guilty because he shouldn't have to be that worried.

"You've been so brave, baby, you're so brave...soon you'll be in bed and you can watch the game and sleep, okay?" He knows you'll want to watch the game if you're sat at home, mostly because you watch every game he plays even if its on catch up, but also because he knows it'll reassure you that he made it back in time.

You nod again, blinking up at him so tired that he can't help but frown.

"Atta, girl. My brave girl." The kiss Quinn presses to your forehead is short and sweet, not lingering but filling you with warmth and lightness even as he closes the door on you and gets into the driver's side.

You miss his comforting touch and as if he knows this, his hand reaches for your thigh at any given opportunity when it isn't in use to drive. The stability of it, the comfort of just having him there is so welcome and helps you to relax back into the seat as he drives.

It's just as hard work getting you into the apartment, thankful as ever that the elevator actually works, but once you're in, Quinn feels ten times lighter.

"Right, lets get you comfy, baby...you want one of my jerseys or a hoodie?"

"Jersey...the....the black one, please."

"Okay, sit down, there ya go, good girl.." He watches you the entire time from the corner of his eye, scared you'll lean too far forward from how you're hunched over on the edge of the bed. He tries to make the entire thing quick, reaching for his black jersey, the extra big one that he bought home because you liked how it dwarfed you and even dwarfed him.

"Arms up, baby..." He helps you out of your work blouse and your bra, slipping the jersey over the top quickly to avoid the shivers you start shaking with.

The worst part is getting you to your feet to get your bottoms off. Quinn helps you rise to your feet before kneeling in front of you, dragging your hands to his shoulders for support as he helps you inch out of the remainder of your work clothes. Your fingers grip his shoulders so tight that he's certain you might leave bruises but he doesn't really care, just happy to get you comfy and help you into bed.

You're bundled under as many blankets as he can find, plus the heated blanket you got at Christmas. A big jug of water beside the bed, snacks piled high because he is not having you try to go all the way to kitchen without supervision right now.

"You want the game set to go on?"

"Y...yes, please...wanna watch you play." He turns the television on, setting it to the NHL game set to go live in less than an hour now and he knows he's going to miss warm ups at this point. Tocc's probably blowing up his phone and he knows he's cutting it fine...but you look so small bundled up in bed and he actually hates the idea of leaving you alone. He hates not having his family near all the time as a general rule, but in that moment he hates it so much more. If his mum or dad had been near he could have asked Ellen or Jim to check in on you, instead you were going to be all alone and he hated it.

"I'll score for you, yeah? You can watch me score and maybe we'll win and then I'll come and make us dinner. That sound good, baby?"

"Perfect..." Quinn smooths your hair back from your face, tucking a strand behind your ear even as he uses it as an excuse to feel your temperature. Not unreasonably warm which reassures him a little that you're at least not feverish.

He just keeps sitting there next to you, stroking your hair and caressing your cheek to the point that as much as you're loathe to get him to stop and to leave, you have to remind him he can't stay here. He has a game he's already running late to.

"You...you have to go, Quinn...I'll be okay..."

"If you're not, you'll phone 911, right?" He smooths your hair back again, in truth he really doesn't want to leave you there like that. Even as you seem to be breathing a little better now you're lying down. He considers just not going, if they lose they lose...but he knows he can't. He's captain, he promised he'd be back...and you'd be unhappy with him. He might be your boyfriend but the Canucks were your team and you'd likely make him sleep on the couch for a week.

"I promise...just go win for me?"

"Okay, sweet girl." He presses a last lingering kiss to your forehead, before getting up to leave. But, he still lingers in the doorway for a moment until you push him to go.

Once he's out of the apartment he's rushing. Barely any time and honestly when he finally gets back to the arena and gets his skates on he's surprised he's just in time to go out on the ice for the anthem...cold, not warmed up in the slightest, not ready at all to play a game, but willing to.

Tocc stops him as he's passing the bench to get to the ice, "Cutting it fine, Hughes!" despite the gruff tone, Quinn can tell that Tocc is just relieved that Quinn's back in time. As are the guys who all look at him with varying shades of relief as if they'd been freaking out the entire time. Which they probably had.

"Told you I'd be back." Quinn says it with such confidence, even though inside he knows he nearly missed the entire game. To be honest if you hadn't forced him out the apartment then he'd probably have been late at best.

"How is she?" Tocc's voice is soft, concerned and Quinn appreciates it. He appreciates that as a coach Tocc doesn't just care about how much they cost or how well they play, he cares about them and their families too...and you're included in that, ring or not.

"Not good...but safe at home."

"You need practice off tomorrow?"

"Please, I need to get her to the doctors..."

"Done. Now go help us win the game." Tocc gives him a clap on the shoulder before pushing him out onto the ice and just like that Quinn slips into captain mode.

Locked in like he always is even if his legs don't feel as loose and his stick feels a little less familiar in his hands. Knowing you're home safe helps, he can put the thought of you to the back of his mind, knowing you're safe in the apartment, comfortable and surrounded by everything you need.

You find it hard to focus on the game, but force yourself to, determined to watch Quinn play and to see the goal he intends to score for you. Maybe it's silly, there's no guarantee he'll actually score, but you can tell from the moment he's on the ice that it's one of the few things on his mind. Shot after shot after shot, a determined series of attempts that remind you how important you are to him even as you lie wheezing in bed, eating as much chocolate as Quinn put out for you.

It's part way through the first period with one goal already to Vancouver thanks to Petey that the issue of Quinn's disappearance pre-game is raised.

"Quinn Hughes was nearly late to the game today, the captain missed warm ups but that's certainly not stopping him now!" Shortie's voice rings through the room, a familiar cadence that makes you feel comforted.

"No, it's not, Shortie, do we know why Hughes was late?" Dave responds and for a moment you can't quite comprehend that you've managed to cause this much of a ruckus.

"It hasn't been confirmed and you know I'm not much of a gossip..." You have a little giggle a Shortie even as you are the topic of conversation because it's not really much in the way of gossip and it's so silly.

"But?"

"Apparently he had a family emergency, his girlfriend is very unwell and he dropped everything to go get her."

"Well, that's just.."

"Romantic? Sweet?"

"I was going to say so unlike the Quinn Hughes we used to know, the one who only thought about hockey." You think back to Quinn when you first met, how everything had been hockey, hockey, hockey. You hadn't minded, your own love of the sport meant that you could handle it. But, it's true...Quinn had been rethinking his priorities ever since you started dating, where he might have prioritised hockey once, he'd started to prioritise you. You're not entirely sure at what point you became that important in his life, but it made you feel warm and fuzzy all over.

"I think it's a good thing, that's a sign of growth, just like Hughes' shot!" Shortie cuts himself off as you watch the camera pan to Quinn, following his agile movements across the ice as he skips past the other team's players as if it's as easy as breathing, "He's in past the defence, he lines up the shot and an unassisted goal for Quinn Hughes! Vancouver goal!"

You smile wide as you watch Quinn grin, celebrating with his team in a series of hugs before he finds a camera. There's a moment where you know he's grinning at you, for you, a cheeky little wink sent through the screen as if to say 'told you I'd score for you'.

"I suspect that one was for the girlfriend, Shortie."

You watch the entire game, trying not to nod off to sleep between periods. While you can't cheer and you certainly don't have the energy to celebrate too hard, every Canuck goal makes you feel lighter and brings a smile to your face.

The end result of a 5-2 win to the Canucks makes it easy for you to drift off as the game ends and the waiting for Quinn begins.

He's running off a high when the game ends, even more so when Boeser offers to take over press duties so Quinn can get back to you quickly.

The apartment is quiet when he comes in, "Baby?" not a sound comes back in response and he's careful to move quietly through the apartment to the bedroom doorway.

You're fast asleep, breathing heavy but nowhere near as bad as earlier in the day, you're surrounded by chocolate wrappers and he's quiet as he picks them all up and puts them in a bin, replacing them with the puck he scored with on your bedside table.

He tiptoes back to the kitchen quietly pottering around to make some dinner for you while you're still asleep, nothing fancy but protein, carbs and veg. The sort of thing that's definitely boring but also definitely what your body needs right now.

"Baby, time to wake up...I've made you dinner." He's gentle when he wakes you, soft fingers down your cheek as you stir awake, blinking up at him bleary eyed. Quinn helps you sit upright, the tray of food settling neatly in your lap.

"Where's...where's yours?"

"On the table, you want me to eat in here with you, sweetheart?"

He's moving before you finish nodding, grabbing another tray and his plate before joining you on the bed. He spends most of his dinner watching you eat, making sure you're not leaving large amounts and that you're okay.

He's happy about the win, happy about the score, but he's mostly just happy to be back with you and knowing that you're eating and you're okay, if not well.

Quinn's quick to tidy up your trays and even quicker to get back to you and get into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, sliding under the covers with you and pulling you into his arms.

Your cheek rests against his chest, the steady thump of his heart a soothing sound that helps some of the anxiety about being off work ease off. Quinn's fingers caress circles and weird shapes across your arm and shoulder as he tucks you tight against him, legs twined together. Every so often he presses a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, the top of your hair, as if reassuring himself that you're okay and he's got you.

"You scored..." You mumble into his t-shirt, a small smile working it's way to your lips as his hand moves up to run through your hair, stopping at your scalp every now and then to scratch lightly until you feel like purring even if that purr is more of a wheezy rumble.

"Mmm, for you, baby." Quinn smiles down at you, another kiss pressed to your cheek.

"T...the wink?" His smile weakens slightly at your still stumbling breathlessness and the wheeze and crackle that accompany it.

"Just for you, sweet girl."

"I'm...I'm proud of you, y'know?" You smile up at him so sweetly that he can't help but feel certain in his choices today. Yeah, nearly missing a game was rough, and maybe the press are going to be dicks about it and maybe he would have felt guilty if he'd missed the game or they'd lost...but he knows he'd skip a million games if it meant you were being looked after, were safe.

"I know...and tomorrow you're going to show me how proud you are by letting me take you to the doctors again."

"Ugh..." You groan, hiding your face into his chest like that will stop him from dragging you to the doctors. Your stubbornness normally cute but in this moment less so.

Quinn cups the back of your head until your looking up at him, green eyes meeting yours with a pleading stare that makes your resolve tremble and shudder. "Please? I'm worried about you, baby...I was really scared when I got that text from you."

"Yeah?" You hate that you worried him...it's that worry that makes you concede that maybe you need to go back to the doctors and maybe as much as you hate it, you'll do it, for Quinn.

"Yeah. I can replace hockey, I can play another game if I miss one. But, I can't replace you. Let me take you to the doctors."

There's a beat of silence as he pleads with you, eyes soft, worried, gentle, thumb stroking soothingly across the base of your neck and you can't really deny him this. Not when you know you'd feel exactly the same if the roles were reversed, not when he nearly missed a game for you today and went in completely cold turkey to win it.

"Okay...as...as long as you keep cuddling me."

"I think I can do that, baby." You curl back into his arms like the spot was carved just for you and in that moment Quinn Hughes knows that you have fully hit the top of his priority list, no ands, ifs, buts or maybes. You could ask him to quit hockey tomorrow and he'd do it. He'd do anything for you and that should be terrifying, but it's not because he knows you'd never ask too much of him. If anything you ask too little.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #teacher reader x quinn

597 notes · View notes

yyokkki · 1 year ago

Text

Asking to Sketch Them

---

*cough* I forgot this series was a thing I was doing uwu

---

DIASOMNIA

Malleus Draconia

"Oh? How bold of you to think you could capture my visage in a mere canvas."

He says with the goofiest smile imaginable（⌒▽⌒）

He's already summoning a chair to sit on

Very experienced with posing so it's a breeze

You have a nice chat about philosophy, gargoyles and culture while you draw him

When you're done he's fangirling internally

Asks if he can commission you to draw a portrait of the both of you tgt

Hangs it up in his room <3

Becomes a regular commissioner

Mostly gargoyles

10/10 honestly nothing bad to say he's lovely

Lilia Vanrouge

"Fufufu, I've been in thousands of portraits over the years, you'll have to try your hardest to really impress me~ No pressure though!"

100% pressure once again

The old bat man will probably be hanging from the ceiling no negotiating

So it's either you draw him upside down or get upside down too

If you choose the second option you best hope no one walks in on you cuz damn wtf

How are you doing that you aren't even using magic???

When you're finished he jumps down and looks and goes

"How nice! Art has truly evolved so much since the last time I had one done~"

Starts showing you some of the portraits he had before like he's showing you baby pics

One of them has him looking like those medieval babies TT

4/10 I can't explain why I'm not giving him a lower score he's just funky

Silver

"No problem. If I fall asleep you can just wake me up, I won't mind."

He doesn't have much experience in posing but he's a natural

He's lookin like a disney princess fr, animals have started gathering

You're having a pleasant chat abou-

Oop he fell asleep

You think about waking him up but like

He looks so peaceful and like he's not even really moving so-

By the time you're done he's probably up and he starts apologizing

Tbh it's Silver so it would've been beautiful whether he was awake or asleep

Bonus points if you include the woodland critters snuggling into him

Human anatomy AND animal anatomy practice!!

9/10 he tried his best and it did turn out well

Sebek Zigvolt

"I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS HUMAN! MY VALUABLE TIME IS SPENT GUARDING AND PROTECTING THE HONOUR OF THE GLORIOUS YOUN-"

once again someone kiss him and shut him up omg

Or actually just show him the Malleus portrait he'll shut up

Yeah you have to do Malleus first if you wanna draw him

Stiff like a ramrod his face looks constipated

Ask him a question about his young master and he forgets he's being drawn in exactly 3 seconds

His face really lights up as he talks about him it's kinda cute

By the time you're done he's probably still talking so interrupt in a speech break

Thinks you did a good job and asks for some advice with art

Then starts trying to buy the malleus portrait off of you

I should've tried harder to not make 80% of his just him talking about the dragon boi but it's really hard cuz he's just him TT

7/10 he's not that bad but your ears are bleeding

-----

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #twst x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst diasomnia

1K notes · View notes

talekinesis · 8 months ago

Text

I need Stan and Ford to see their mom again

Like let's say she's still alive and in her 80s, she's in a wheelchair (ambulatory, she has customized canes) she still lives in their old home because a part of her hoped Stanford would come back, and she didn't want to leave their home, so he'd know where to go back to.

She wanted to stay put in case Ford came back.

So imagine her shock when both her boys come back home to her

Obviously Stan immediately starts apologizing for faking his death, putting her through grief, her arranging and attending his funeral, but she stops him like "I'd much rather it be fake than real." That's her baby boy, back from the dead, something most people don't get, so to her it's a miracle.

Her Jersey accent is thick, and it actually brings out the twins' accents that had faded over time (Stan's sounds natural to him since he always retained it a little, but everyone finds it funny when Ford's accent comes back because he just doesn't seem like the type to speak like that)

THEY MOVE HER INTO THE SHACK

The boys wanna take care of their mama and keep her around since it's been so long, and Caryn is delighted to be moved out of a loud city with rough memories and into a quiet little town where the people are odd but nice. Ford and Stan both work together to make the Shack accessible for her. Ford actually sat in her wheelchair to test everything and make sure she could get around on her own.

They catch her up on everything, and at first they don't think she'll fully believe them but she's like "Stanford built an international portal and got lost for 30 years? Stanley took his place and turned his home into tourist trap? Yeah, that seems like something my boys would do."

When she learns Stan taught himself engineering to re-build the portal, she's obviously very proud of him. "You were never dumb, Stanley, ya just learned different. Honestly, I always thought ya had A-D-H-D but Pa never wanted ya tested. But look how smart and creative ya turned out, son! I think ya did good." And Stan is definitely not crying.

Personal headcanon: Caryn was also really smart and picked up on things quick. The boys had to have gotten it from somewhere, and it wasn't Filbrick. He just took the credit because 1) he was the worst, and 2) times were different back then and no one would have really taken her seriously. But she's the one who would fix things around the house since she taught herself how to keep the place together and running since Filbrick wouldn't pay anyone to come and repair anything.

Imagine little Stan standing behind her with a flashlight while she fixes the wiring in the wall because an outlet stopped working. Both of the boys helping her while she fixes the car for the third time that week because it keeps breaking down. Mama Pines taught herself how to keep things up and running because no one else would or could.

Caryn meets Mabel and Dipper when they come back in the summer, and Mabel is THRILLED

She's technically met them before but they were still newborns at the time so they don't remember her, and she hadn't gotten a chance to see who they'd become

Mabel makes her a sweater and she wears it with pride. And I really think it would go like that scene from Elemental

Caryn: You made this?

Mabel: Oh, yeah, it's nothing-

Caryn: Nothin? Babygirl, my designer dresses were made by 'nothin.' Oh sweetie, you have got to do somethin' with this skill. And to think, I have an original 'Mabel Pines.'

And don't think I'm leaving Dipper out of this, he gets his great-grandma's attention too. She loves talking to him and listening to him tell stories about the monsters they've encountered in the past. She sees a lot of Ford in him, but she also sees a lot of Stan in him in other ways.

I think Dipper's love for "girly" music is something Stan used to share before Filbrick "disciplined" him for it. Child Stan used to sit in the kitchen with his Ma and sing along to the radio, usually listening to whatever she had put on.

Now all three of them sit in the kitchen and listen to the radio while Stan cooks.

Ford feeling like a failure for putting everyone in danger, and Caryn just goes, "Come talk to your mama." And he does. He goes and talks to his mama, like he always has in the past. She's in her 80s and they're grown men in their late 50s, but she's still their mom, and you never really quit being a mom.

I might actually write a short fic about this, I love it so much.

#taltalks #gravity falls headcanons #gravity falls dipper #gravity falls mabel #gravity falls #gravity falls stan pines #gravity falls stanley #stan pines #gravity falls stanford #stanford pines #stanley pines #caryn pines #Gravity Falls Caryn Pines

783 notes · View notes

starfxkrinc · 3 months ago

Text

ode to eaters - devoured

for those who don't know, ode to eaters is my bones and all au set in the 80s following eater!reader and human!jj as they traverse the south to escape rafe cameron. i haven't touched her in a while despite this au being very dear to me. dedicated to it's #1 fan @nemesyaaa

no matter how far you got, rafe was close behind. you could smell him--that tinny metallic smell of sweat and cocaine. you could scrub your skin raw, bury your face in jj's clothes, huff gasoline until you were dizzy. it was still there, drifting in the wind.

he was close, of course he was. rafe would stop at nothing to bring you back and reduce you to that half feral animal you were when jj found you. so you had to keep moving, the carolinas were far behind you, now you were somewhere in shreveport finding your way deeper in the bayous until you were alone.

somewhat. the old shack you and jj found was too alive. despite it's abandoned appearance the food was fresh, cabinets dusted. someone was living here.

"what other choice we got? need a few days for me to work on the truck, ain't no point in jacking a new one, not right now. it's too hot." that's how jj justified himself, and you couldn't argue. plus you were exhausted, so was he. the craters under his eyes were so black they were purple, and it gave his blue eyes a haunted look.

you wonder if that's how you look to him.

so you stayed, even though you were starving. and you began to pace over jj's sleeping form like a wild animal. too often he woke up to you on top of him, nosing at his pulse as you drooled. whoever said humans don't crave flesh was a liar. because the only way you could sate yourself these days was by sucking on his pulse point until it throbbed.

pretty soon you'd start gnawing at your own arm.

it'd never been this bad before, you used to be able to just be a person, but so many years alone has made you insatiable. being able to eat whenever, wherever spoiled you.

the worst of it came after two weeks of stagnation. jj can only work so fast by stealing parts, and deep in your gut you knew rafe was close.

and there was somebody else.

not an eater, like you and rafe. a veg.....only not. a veg who eats.

like jj.

and he stunk to high heavens. something rich and fatty, coated in damp soil. rafe has someone with him. and he's even closer.

when you told jj you could tell it freaked him out, he got antsy, started leaving for longer stretches of time even though you told him not to.

"you want us to get the fuck outta here? well i need to work, do somethin'. you just gotta trust i won't leave you."

every day you watched him walk out that door, and you tried not to let the smell of him get muddled up with everyone else. salt, weed, something warm and spicy tangled underneath.

as long as you could smell him you calmed, well enough to sleep through the day until he came back.

then you woke up and it was gone. your nose clogged up with that fatty-oily smell. someone was in the house.

someone was in the room.

you couldn't so much as scream before he was on you, drenched in sweat so bad his wifebeater clung to his tan skin, greasy dark hair curtaining his face. all you could see was the glint of a gold tooth.

"shit, i see why rafe's drug me across the mason-dixon lookin for you. you're a pretty thing aintcha?"

clawing and kicking you did your best to fight him off but he was too big. he dug his nails into your throat as he tied you up with one hand, and leaned in close "lucky i don't feel like steppin on no toes, baby boy's been real strict about finding his favorite toy."

his voice was muffled from the adrenaline coursing through you, but you knew that accent. it was the same one you heard from rooms away when rafe kept you barricaded in his sister's old room. it was similar to the one jj had--thick, sitting just in the back of his throat.

he was too close, your hands were tied. and you were so. fucking. hungry.

you latched onto his nose, feeling the cartilage crumble between your teeth as hot, tangy blood filled your mouth.

he screamed, "fuckin' bitch! fuck rafe, i'm getting my share now."

this was how you were gonna die. hogtied chewing on his nose like a pig's ear. you laughed, high and maniacal as he cut your shorts off. his blood poured into your open mouth as he choked your harder. jj was gonna find you, a bloody, fucked open mess. you laughed harder.

then it was back, that sea salty smell. and you saw him out the corner of your eye, jaw set and eyes crazed.

yeah, whoever said humans don't crave flesh was a massive liar.

because it only took a second, and the man on top of you didn't even see it coming when jj slammed the hunting knife into his neck. you were drenched in even more blood when he yanked it out, grabbing him by his ponytail onto the floor.

you sat up gasping, watching as the jj slammed the knife into him over and over until his head was barely hanging onto the rest of his body. he was so covered in blood his blonde hair was tinted red, and all you could see of his face were his eyes.

finally he stopped, panting and shaking as he turned to you and nodded towards the mutilated corpse under him.

"y'hungry?"

#🌙.txt #jj maybank prompt #ode to eaters

150 notes · View notes

toysrguts · 9 months ago

Text

smiling friends headcanons!! :D

i have smiling friends brainrot

allan:

•wine is his de-stresser. after a long shift he likes to go home and sip on a glass of wine while watching shit TV like some kind of cool guy

•doesn't smoke cigarettes often but will bum one off of charlie sometimes during their breaks

•bites people he loves :)

•perhaps his dr. monsters appointment with dr. monster was an appointment to assess him for OCD

•very very particular about the way he likes things and hates unexpected change in his routine

•also a math god he's like a walking calculator

•always helping other people reach things that they cant

•he has to be like 6’3 or something probably

•autism be damned my boy can work a grill (he can cook really well)

•in fact hes often the one cooking meals for the other smiling friends

•he also lovessss to garden its one of his favorite hobbies

•he grows his own vegetables to cook with and flowers to decorate his home :)

•i feel like this man would get down to some queen or duran duran

•he’ll listen to pretty much anything but i feel like he would gravitate towards 80s classics

•used to own a car that he loved but it broke down and he never bought another one

•went to school for engineering and started volunteering at smiling friends after graduating as kind of a placeholder job, but loved it so much it became his full time job

•cheese is his safe food

•had to wear glasses when he was younger but felt like they deterred the ladies so he switched to wearing contacts

•probably drinks black coffee like a fucking freak

•either that or he adds oat milk

•hes pretty anxious and freaks out a lot and will also snap if he has sensory overload

•wears noise canceling headphones a lot cause too much noise drives him insane

•HATES fabric touching his skin but will still wear a tie cause “it’s classy” and will wear clothes if hes out in public

•once took a trip to france and almost didnt come back cuz it was like cheese heaven

•goes clubbing during some of his nights off and is a karaoke GOD

•also goated at chess and gets heated during a game of scrabble

charlie:

•definitely sneaks a cart into work every day

•if allan didn’t cook this dude would go into debt from ordering takeout every day

•was raised mostly by his uncle cause his parents werent always around, and they're more like really good friends now that hes older

•grew up poor and had a pretty hard childhood overall but he doesn't dwell on it too much

•relieves his stress and frustration by terrorizing people in fortnite lobbies

•the smiling friends hq is air conditioned 24/7 per his request, he's heat sensitive and sweats EXCESSIVELY

•uses axe body spray to mask the stench

•his living conditions are depressing to look at, the only furniture in his apartment is a mattress and an old camping chair he borrowed from his uncle years ago

•also probably owns a shelf dedicated to lego builds

•he spends like 90% of his time in his bed if not working

•his morning routine consists of waking up disoriented asf, throwing on some clothes laying on the floor, forgetting to brush his teeth and walking out the door

•was exposed to shock sites wayyy too young

•acted out and got in trouble a lot in his adolescence but now just likes to keep to himself for the most part

•believe it or not he was baptized as a baby

•started caring about life a little more ever since experiencing hell

•feel like he likes music his uncle showed him as a kid, maybe judas priest and whitesnake type shit

•doesn’t even have to say anything when he goes to salty’s cause hes a regular and they know his exact order

•thats a bisexual man if ive ever seen one

•the hat hides his receding hairline lul

•has a fat ass surgical scar on his nose from when james ripped it off

•wears the same beat up white adidas shoes and got in highschool

•owns one of those “dubstep, weed and jacking off” shirts

•hes an only child but pim is like a brother to him

•had a family dog growing up and is a dog person overall

pim:

•begs to play roblox when anyone else is playing video games in the office

•curls up into a ball when he sleeps

•also will freak out without a night light

•his room is definitely littered with stuffed animals

•grew up watching mlp (g1) and probably still owns some pony figures

•and says “hello everypony!!” when entering a room

•played a LOT of browser and flash games as a youngster like club penguin and moviestar planet

•genuinely finds beauty in everything i wish i was on his level of joy and whimsey

•would totally listen to vocaloid and would totally go on a super long tangent about how its so cool and holograms are so cool

•also has a collection of light sticks and miku plushies and definitely kisses his miku poster goodnight

•i feel like he ate paint chips as a child

•craves social interaction cuz his parents had a rocky marriage and were neglectful and his sister treated him like shit when they were kids

•his sister would tug on his nerve ending when she got annoyed

•having a rough upbringing and dysfunctional family is what pushed him to start working for smiling friends, hes genuinely passionate about making people smile and just wants to help people who are in bad situations like he was

•prone to panic attacks :(

•sings little songs to calm himself down

•flails his arms or jumps around when hes excited

•still uses pool floaties when swimming lmao

•also still loves to dress up and play pretend as an adult

•mmmmm loves sweets what is a nutritious meal?????

•wore glasses growing up but just kind of stopped for some reason probably cuz his eyes are fucking massive

glep:

•chronic cyberbully-er

•tells people to kts in his gibberish language when they annoy him

•has most likely caused several wars across the globe

•puts whatever he wants on the tv and then hides the remote and watches everyone fight over who took it

•small but lets out the most diabolical burps imaginable

•is fluent in every single language on earth and probably space too

•absolutely brainrotted from that ipad he wont stop watching skibidi toilet

•unties peoples shoes when theyre not paying attention

•little guy has never known sobriety in his life

•has so many random ass pictures and videos saved on his tablet

•hes like a little vlogger

•if someone says or does something he doesnt like he’ll probably hire a hitman on them

•definitely has access to the deep web

•hates gardening but will help allan out with it once in a while for something in return (like a grilled cheese or some weed or something)

•also will sit next to allan while hes cooking so he can eat all the scraps

#i love queer ppl #smiling friends #frowning friends #charlie dompler #pim pimling #allan red #alan red #glep simpson #glep smiling friends #headcanons #smiling friends headcanons #smiling friends hcs #smiling friends fanfic #smiling friends x reader #charpim #kyle is cooking...

175 notes · View notes

metallicames · 17 days ago

Note

okay, hear me out 80's james X older reader

Hi! Since you didn’t make a detailed request, I followed my instincts a bit—hope you like it! :)

Freaky Baby

Warnings: age gap (James is 22y/o, reader 35) oral sex (f receiving /m receiving), unprotexted sex, slightly (very slightly) sub James.

The Troubadour in the '80s was a haze of red lights and swirling smoke, a gritty underground haven pulsing with raw energy. That night in 1986, the air was thick with anticipation as the staff hurriedly prepared the stage for a band that was riding the wave.

Y/N, 35 years old, was the owner of that pub. She had seen dozens of bands come and go, yet that night something felt different.

She realized it the moment Metallica walked in.

Or rather, she realized it when James Hetfield stepped through the door.

He was 22. Arrogant smile, wild blond hair, and clear eyes that burned under the neon lights.

Despite his young age, James wasn’t like the other boys she had seen perform at her pub. He had something that made him magnetic, and a kind of fire in his eyes that distracted from the fact he was little more than a kid.

She watched him during rehearsals, mesmerized by that aura of confidence and leadership surrounding him.

After the soundcheck, Y/N leaned against the bar with a Manhattan, giving instructions to the staff, and realized that James hadn’t stopped looking at her.

Every time she turned, those eyes were there.

Direct. Cocky. But not childish. There was hunger in that gaze.

“I swear, he’s trying to undress her with his eyes” Cliff whispered to Lars, who’d already been laughing for a minute.

“Twenty bucks says he gets her into bed before midnight.” The bassist added with an amused tone.

“I say she kicks his ass out. She’s way out of his league” Lars said, still laughing.

“You wanna bet?”

“You’re on.”

James walked over to the bar, asking for a beer, barely acknowledging Y/N.

“You got something to say, or are you just gonna keep staring at me?” She asked, brushing past him with a teasing glance and a slight smile.

“Actually, you started it the moment I got on stage… and I’m just trying to figure out if you’re real” James’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk.

She laughed, “Save the poetry for the stage, kid.” James gave her a slight smile before taking a sip of beer.

The tension among them started to build with every line exchanged between rehearsals and drinks. And as the alcohol kept flowing, they both became increasingly aware of how the night was going to end.

Later, when the place began to fill up and the music dipped for a moment, Y/N got up and headed toward her office. Heels confident, back straight. But she turned slightly, as if to check.

And yes, James was there. Just a few feet away. Not speaking. Just those eyes fixed on her, still.

There was no need to invite him.

Five minutes later, the office door closed behind James.

Y/N was already seated at her desk, as if she had been expecting him. She threw him a sly look.

James didn’t speak. He stood in front of the desk, arms crossed, chest rising slowly with steady breaths. The look in his eyes—unchanged. Challenge. Hunger.

“You know how many boys like you I’ve seen walk in this pub?” She said, crossing her legs slowly.

“I’m guessing none of them gave you what you really wanted.”

Y/N didn’t answer. She studied him. Up and down. But didn’t move.

James slowly circled the desk. Then he knelt in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice softer, lower.

“What no one else has the guts to do.”

When his big hands lifted her skirt and his mouth grazed the skin above her stockings, Y/N let herself sink back into the chair. A long sigh.

“You’re a damn freaky one.”

James paused for a moment, eyes burning beneath hers. “You have no idea.”

Far away, amid laughter and guitars rumbling back to life in the main room, someone was starting to wonder if they’d already lost the bet.

Y/N's POV

I was staring at him as I slid the fishnet stockings down my thighs, my fingers slow, teasing. James didn’t look away — not for a second. His eyes devoured me, I could feel the heat of his breath ghosting over my skin, and his gaze — ravenous, unyielding, dripping with the kind of need that makes your core clench.

I let the stockings drop, followed by my tiny black thong, I was exposed and I loved every second of the way his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with lust.

He stepped toward me slowly, his hands landed on my thighs, spreading them apart without hesitation. Then his mouth dipped between them, and I gasped, my head falling back as his lips wrapped around my swollen clit, sucking with deep, greedy pressure.

His tongue — fuck — it moved like he had something to prove. He licked me like he needed to drown in my taste, like he was starving for it. Long strokes, firm circles, flicks that made my thighs twitch. My fingers tangled in his golden hair, first to guide him, then just to keep him there, anchored to my dripping cunt.

I rolled my hips against his face, grinding down on his mouth, needing more. The wet sounds of his tongue lapping me up filled the room. “Fuck… just like that, baby. Lower—mmmh yes, right there. Don’t stop.”

He obeyed— but it wasn’t mindless obedience. He knew how to take me apart, piece by piece, and he was enjoying every second of it. I could feel his confidence in the way he sucked, in the way he teased my entrance with the flat of his tongue before plunging in, deep and eager, like he wanted to taste me from the inside out.

My legs trembled as my core clenching with every stroke of his mouth. I leaned back against the chair, thighs spread wide, my body completely at his mercy — but I was still in control. I was riding his face, chasing that climax, and he was letting me use him for it.

The pleasure came in slow, relentless waves, curling up my spine and exploding in my lower abdome. My moans got rawer, until I was gasping. My pussy pulsing against his tongue. I couldn’t stop shaking — he had me coming so hard my vision blurred. I melted into the chair, my nails scraping through his hair, breath stuttering in short, broken cries I couldn’t hold back even if I tried.

When I opened my eyes, dazed and flushed, he was standing, lips wet with me, a smug damn grin on his face. He knew what he’d done. Knew I was wrecked. And he looked so fucking proud of it.

“Get on the couch.” I ordered between gasps.

He obeyed without question, and as he walked toward the couch, I saw it. The obvious bulge under those too-tight jeans. It was impossible to ignore.

He sat down with his legs spread wide, dominating the space with a natural ease I hadn’t seen in many. He unbuttoned his jeans, never breaking eye contact. When he slid them down, along with his boxers and his t shirt, he was there, completely naked. Breathtakingly handsome, tan, imposing — with a boyish face and a needy gaze.

I stood, still dazed but determined. I walked over to him, kissed him slowly and sensually, my hands gliding down his torso as our tongues met and explored each other eagerly. I felt the power shift, alive between us like a current.

I sank to my knees in front of him, my eyes locked on his as I let my tongue flick over the swollen, glistening head of his cock. I teased the tip, savoring the salty taste of him, before sliding my lips slowly over the length, inch by inch, until he filled my mouth completely. I moved with deliberate precision, hollowing my cheeks, my tongue pressed firmly along the underside as I bobbed up and down, each motion slower and deeper than the last. His hands clenched the cushion behind him, then found their way into my hair, gripping tightly as a low, desperate groan escaped his lips—his body trembling, barely able to hold back.

“You’re gonna make me explode if you keep that up,” he said in a low, almost pleading tone.

I looked up at him, never breaking eye contact. His eyes were like liquid shadows, full of desire and need. Seeing him like that, under my control, turned me on like hell. I continued, slowly, using my tongue to stimulate the sensitive skin of his tip with circular movements, letting every breath, every shudder pull another moan from his lips.

James let his head fall back against the couch, his chest rising in slow, deep waves. He was trying to control himself — barely. And I knew exactly how to keep him there, in that suspended limbo of pleasure.

“Can you hold it back for me? I need to feel you,” I whispered just inches from his pelvis, my voice low and vibrating.

He nodded, unable to speak, panting softly.

I stood up, letting my clothes fall to the floor. His eyes followed me, hypnotized, as if every movement was a spell.

I positioned myself above him, guiding his thick, pulsing cock to my entrance, feeling it throb beneath my fingers. When I welcomed him inside me, his breath caught for a moment — until I began to move slowly. I let him feel every tight, slick inch as I sank down, his eyes rolling back slightly as I took him all the way.

“You’re a fucking vision,” he choked out, voice rough and breathless. “So hot…”. His strong fingers gripped the flesh of my hips, then my ass, as if he wanted to memorize every curve, like he couldn’t believe he was buried inside me.

“Then keep looking at me, baby. I want you to remember this every time you jerk off alone—how I rode you until you couldn’t think straight.” I said between soft moans.

I placed my hands on his knees, lifted my feet, and rested them beside his hips, opening myself to him, letting him see everything. His eyes widened, full of desire and disbelief.

“Do you like what you see?” I asked sweetly, slowly lowering my hips so he could enjoy the view in front of him and savor the way I took him in.

“Fuck yes…” he whispered.

He was mine, completely.

James clenched his teeth, his neck tense, veins pulsing. “I’m gonna come, ffffuck…” he growled low.

Those words, that voice broken with tension, shook me to the core. The pleasure surged in me like an unstoppable wave. I leaned into him, placing my hands on his broad shoulders for support, my forehead resting against his. I increased the rhythm, my movements faster, hungrier, and every breathless plea of mine merged with his hoarse moans.

The sound of skin against skin, our intertwined breaths, filled the room. I knew someone outside the studio might hear us. The walls weren’t thick enough to hide the echo of our moans. But I didn’t care. In that moment, it was just us. Just our breath, our bodies, our desire exploding like a fire.

I felt another orgasm overtake my body — trembling, uncontrollable. “God… James… your dick is so good,” I whispered against his mouth, trembling.

James’s hands gripped my buttocks tightly, his fingers sinking into the flesh as if trying to anchor himself to the last shred of lucidity he had left. His eyes, locked on mine, were full of primal need — burning, untamable.

With a low growl, he began to move beneath me, guiding my body, lifting his hips with every thrust to penetrate me even deeper.

His intensity overwhelmed me, and I surrendered completely, letting him take control. His muscles were taut, his jaw clenched, and when I felt his breath grow more frantic, more ragged against my neck, I knew he was about to lose it.

With one final powerful thrust James came inside me. His body stiffened, then trembled as he bit gently into my shoulder, muffling a long, guttural moan twisted with pleasure.

That contact, that sensation of being full, of being joined with him so completely, sent me over the edge into my own orgasm. A hot, uncontrollable wave surged through me in a deep jolt that stole my breath. My movements slowed, turned erratic, until the rhythm disappeared entirely, leaving us suspended in a silence broken only by our shattered breaths.

I stayed there, breathless, my forehead resting on his chest, my body still trembling with soft aftershocks, as if every fiber of me were slowly awakening from the haze of pleasure.

“You think they heard us?” I asked, amused, still catching my breath.

“I hope so,” James replied with a wide, mischievous grin.

“Bad boy.” I breathed out, with a satisfied smile.

#james hetfield #metallica #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield x reader #metallica smut #metallica fanfiction

66 notes · View notes

novahreign · 3 months ago

Text

Happy Birthday Terry Richmond

Terry Richmond xCharlie Richmond

"I want to say Happy Birthday to you, to you, OOoooh." Charlie hit a little dougie as she danced her way to Terry with a plate of chocolate chip pancakes top with powdered sugar, strawberries, a single candle. "Now, close your eyes, make a wish, think about it and blow out your candles." she continued to sing out. Terry closed his eyes and blew the flame out.

"Happy Birthday old man." Charlie wrapped her arms around her man and kissed her way up his neck, ending it with a deep longing kiss. Charlie eyes were closed long after he released her mouth, she ran her tongue across her lips.

"Whew" she needed to take a minute or two or five, after that kiss. She opened her eyes "Dang baby, you got my thoughts all jumbled, you know what kissing me like that, does to me." She chuckled "Babe. I have an amazing weekend planned for you, so, eat your breakfast and get dressed." Charlie knew that he was suspicious, but she walked out before he could speak on it.

**********************************************************************

"Mama and Daddy are picking the kids up from school, I'm leaving the expedition."

Terry slowed his steps down as he watched Charlie go to the driver's seat. "You want me to drive?"

"No, I got it, thank you though." She winked at him.

"Alright, Cool." They got into his truck, "You gave the kids the rundown?"

"Ha! you know it, but my mama and daddy are not about to play with them like that. They know what it is." She answered confidently in her parents' ability to handle their five little rascals.

"I'm surprised the boys didn't tell me anything." He put his seatbelt on as Charlie started driving. "Where we going Charlie?"

She ignored his question "No one knew until this morning, that's why." Leaning over the console, she ran her manicured hand down his chest. "This weekend is all for you, you get whatever you want."

He cocked a bro, "Whatever I want huh?" He stroked his goatee "Can we do Anal?"

Charlie's jaw dropped before she busted out laughing. "Terry."

"You said, Whatever I want."

He was so serious. Charlie shook her head, "We'll See, she turned the volume up," Since I'm driving. It's my choice." She serenaded him the whole way there ""Let's make a love scene, steamy and blue. Erotic memories for an audience of two." Terry joined in caressing her bare thigh" and we'll make a love scene, let the foreplay begin and replay each moment again...." He rested his hand, where he always did whenever they were together-between her legs, and it stayed there. The ride was full of 2000's R&B, 80/90's hip-hop to present day. Charlie turned the music down as they pulled into the Marina.

"Come on." They walked up to the boathouse, outside waiting for them was the Boathouse owner Jerry. He was a tall white man, looked to be in his late 40's wearing a long sleeve Bamboo shirt with a green hat with sunglasses sitting on top. He extended his hand to Charlie

"Charlie?"

"Yes, Nice to meet you. This is my husband Terrence."

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Jerry, the owner of Murray's boathouse."

They listened as he gave them a little information about the company. "We've been renting out boats for about 15 years now. I'm glad that you chose to partner up with us today, man. Either of you have experience with driving a boat?" Charlie pointed to Terry.

He nodded his head "Maybe we can get you driving today." Charlie shook her head laughing "Oh, I don't know about that. Jerry, I think that you want your boat back intact, so I'm gonna let my man handle that." she rubbed Terry's back.

"So, you have boating experience. Navy?" Jerry asked eyeing Terry's stance.

"Marines."

"I figured it was something. Thank you for your service. I really mean that. If y'all want to follow me, we can get paperwork started and then we'll get you started on a boat." That took thirty minutes, as they ran copies of their IDS and liability and insurance papers.

Jerry handed Terry the keys but looked at Charlie "You sure you don't want to drive."

"I'm good, thank you though." Charlie eyed Terry and took everything in her to keep a straight face."

"You two enjoy yourselves, if you need anything, you know how to contact me. Happy Birthday Man." He patted Terry on the back before walking away.

"He was flirting hard with you, how much off did you get from this experience."

She hit him while laughing "Shut up Terry."

Terry was like a giddy kid as he maneuvered the boat out of the Marina. Charlie relaxed against the comfy leather seat. It was a perfect day to be on the water. It was a bright sunny day, not a single cloud in the sky. The wind blew, giving them a whiff of the salt water. Charlie studied his shirtless body, the muscles in his back and the veins in his arms popped out as he whipped the boat this way and that. Charlie took tons of photos and videos. She leaned her head on Terry's arm as she held the phone out. "Out on the water with my husbanddd. "Terry threw up an awkward peace sign "Happy Birthday baby."

"Thank you, baby." He lifted his hat to kiss her. "Babe, look it's a dolphin." Chalrie eyes lit up "man, the kids would've loved this!" Forever the family man. She was over the moon that he was enjoying himself. He had been talking about getting back on the water for some time now and she was glad that she could this for him. They spent six hours on the water, before Terry was bringing that baby in."

"How was it?" Jerry asked smiling just as hard as her husband. Terry shook his head. "Man, that was amazing experience. Thank you."

"Hope to see y'all back again, one day."

"Oh, definitely." They thanked Jerry again before hopping back in the truck. Fifteen minutes later they were pulling up to their Air bnb, it was a beach house with private access to the beach. The house was decorated with cream and browns. The living room had floor to ceiling windows with a cream colored sectional with a round brown coffee table. Paintings of the ocean hung on the wall adjacent to the built in bookshelf that carried books about Marine life. They did a small house tour before moving to the Master bedroom. Charlie let Terry go in first. Blue ballons were all over the room with a banner that read "Happy Birthday Terry!" Terry took it all in, before moving to open the gifts laid on the bed for him, it was an even bouquet of flowers. He looked back at Charlie before busting out laughing. "You play too much," One day he joked about how nice it would be to come home to flowers, and she didn't let it go.

"Enjoy your flowers babe." she teased swatting his hands away "Open your gifts," It was funny seeing Terry not knowing what gift to open first. He got clothes, shoes, an expensive watch and a brand new gun. He whistled out ,looking at the weapon.

"Charlie, this is nice as fuck, how you got this without me knowing?”

"Trey. "She said plainly. He was one of her husband's best friends out here.

***********************************************************************

Later that evening, Terry stood in front of the mirror edging up his goatee. He went through with a comb until it was to his satisfaction. Charlie leaned against the doorjamb watching him. He looked so good. He caught her eye in the mirror, leaving her with a wink that she shyly returned. Charlie was about to say to hell with these reservations, but they had all weekend for that. "You look so good, I could hump you, but we got to hurry." After a quick little photoshoot, they were out of the door. They went to a popular steakhouse. The restaurant had a nice ambience, and the food was definitely up to par. Terry looked at Charlie as she signed the receipt. She always kept him in mind. She's been with him for 13 years and whether together or apart, she always made his birthdays special. Terry was never the one to get emotional, but man, this was hitting him in the chest. Charlie glanced up and smiled brightly at him. "Did you enjoy everything baby?"

"Come here, Charlie."

She immediately moved closer to him. He enveloped her in his arms. she looked up at him "Thank you for making my birthday special. This means everything to me baby. You mean everything to me. I love you baby."

"I'm glad that you could enjoy yourself baby and I love you too boo." They Kissed.

"Let's get out of here."

Back in the truck they facetimed the kids, so they could wish their daddy a Happy Birthday.

"When are y'all coming back?" TJ asked

"We're never coming home. Y'all living with your grandparents forever.” Charlie told the kids

"NOOOO" Callie started crying "I want my daddy."

"Babe, why you made her cry."

Charlie was cracking up "Callie stop, you're gonna see your daddy tomorrow. He'll be there to tuck y'all in. In the meantime, y'all better be good."

"Aye Mom, can we get Cane's tomorrow?"

"No. Love you, bye."

"Me and mommy will see y'all tomorrow. Love y'all."

" Love you, Daddy."

"Happy Birthday Terry." Charlie's parents said, "Don't come back pregnant." her mama added.

"No promises. Bye mama." he hung the phone up.

"You're a mess." he slipped his hand under her dress and into her panties. She gasped "Terrence Richmond, we are in public." He slipped his fingers into his mouth, Charlie's jaw dropped. "Ummm, taste so good."

Her body shudder as he sucked his fingers. She turned in her seat, buckling up. Terry didn't say anything, he reversed smoothly out of the parking lot. The music filled the space as Terry drove them back to the air bnb. He opened the door, Charlie swung her legs around, as he helped her down. Terry licked a trail up her neck before sucking gently as she opened the door. He kicked the door behind him, as he picked Charlie up, carrying her to the room. he knocked everything off the bed before placing her in the middle.

Thirteen years later, and she still made him feel a certain way.

"Can I get it?" He licked his lips, as he caressed her spread legs.

"It's your birthday. You can whatever you want."

thanks @megamindsecretlair for the birthday idea!

@notapradagurl7 @saraiscollection @theglamclosetsl @venusincleo

@theereinawrites

#aaron pierre #terry richmond x black reader #rebel ridge #Terry'sbirthdaybash

122 notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Text

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen.

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy.

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you.

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze.

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer.

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare.

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself.

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love.

You accepted understanding from him, though.

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage.

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein.

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before.

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.”

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down.

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled.

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?”

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over.

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess.

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?”

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.”

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly.

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did.

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end.

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left.

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages.

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there.

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag.

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours.

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-”

“What?”

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first.

“I live down the hall.”

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall.

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had.

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing.

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day.

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying.

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.”

“I have three PhD's-”

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?”

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition.

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work.

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways.

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe.

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you.

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back.

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other.

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered.

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again.

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway.

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper.

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause.

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind.

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another.

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be.

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips.

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights.

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon.

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world.

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest.

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you.

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours.

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right.

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again.

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair.

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch.

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort

664 notes · View notes

writerjuliannaf · 9 months ago

Text

Wolverine Headcanons

after a VERY long hiatus from Tumblr… I’m happy to say that I’m officially back!!

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨ ⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙ ୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Has a chunky pet squirrel named Bruce

He likes to eat Logan’s sandwiches, runs around the mansion and knows to stay indoors, and he has a black cowl/stripe shape on his face —which instantly reminded Logan of Batman, sparking his pet’s name

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Frequently visits a local diner and orders the same thing every time: waffles drenched in maple syrup, with a large plate of bacon on the side

The waitress who always serves him is a sweet, older, southern lady —either named Althea or Ida— and she knows his order by heart, often calling him “sugar” or “baby” in her thick accent

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Is secretly VERY clingy when he gets attached and loves to cuddle

When I tell you this man loves physical touch of any kind (I’m talking in a non-spicy way) HE REALLY loves it… cuddling, spooning, holding hands, having you sit in his lap while you both eat… it’s non stop with Logan (but I’m not complaining, lol)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ He also loves when his hair and beard are softly scratched

Logan may seem like a no-nonsense baddie… but at the end of the day, he is a huge softie, loving his hair, beard, and back scratched. Who doesn’t? But Logan… he craves it

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Loves texting his girl, and often sends her too many gifs and emojis

I think when Logan finds the girl of his dreams (NOT JEAN) he surprises everyone at the mansion when they see him texting and smirking at his phone. Gifs, emojis, encouraging quotes from Pinterest, you name it… and he’ll send it to her. Because it not only makes her smile… but man, it makes him smile too

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Collects either shot glasses or pins every time he travels, especially when he’s on missions

I like to think this started when Logan officially moved into the X-Mansion, sooooo many years ago. He finally had a place to stay and somewhere to store his new belongings that he’d eventually buy/collect. And at first, he probably saw a pin/shot glass with a funny quote on it and decided to swipe it. But then, on each mission, it just became a habit

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Enjoys the musical 7 Brides for 7 Brothers because it’s very nostalgic for Logan and reminds him of the traditional lifestyle in the 1800’s

So this is not really that surprising, since he was born in the 1800’s (In 1832, right?) and I believe the movie was just randomly playing on the tv one day, and he instantly fell in love. It warmed something inside him to see, once again, how his life in the frontiere looked —since he probably lived in a Canadian small town that resembled the town in the movie

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Loves when you wear his shirts

Wanna make Logan extremely happy? Wear something of his. His shirts, sweat pants, jackets. And OMG… his cowboy hats!! This man is FERAL and he just LOVES when his scent mixes with yours. You could even wear his SOCKS, and I can bet you, you’ll immediately see hearts in his eyes

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ REALLY loves when you read to him, especially before bed

Okay… this gives beauty and the beast vibes. And I’m telling you, every time I see that movie (one of my favorite Disney movies, btw) I just imagine Logan just adoringly gazing at you like the Beast looked at Belle as she read. And Logan WILL beg you to read to him (in a casual way though, cause he still has that gruff reputation to maintain) more so before bed. Maybe his mom, or even Victor, read to him when he was sick? Who knows… but just know, it soothes him

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ Most definitely hums and sings in the shower

He has a great singing voice, but no one knows that except you. And when you’re chilling in his room while he showers, just be prepared for him to belt out some 80’s rock songs or even some old country tunes. He also likes a lot of songs from the 50’s too, which would definitely give him that bad boy, biker/greaser vibe

⋆˙⟡ Comment, like, reblog & follow for more ⟡⋆˙

Thank you for reading!! And if you have any requests, lemme know ♡

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨ ⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙ ୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

#aesthetic #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine edit #xmen wolverine #xmen #wolverine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman icons #headcanon #head canons #wolverine headcanons #wolverine imagine #logan howlett #logan howlett headcanon

108 notes · View notes

chargohello · 2 years ago

Text

MUTANT MAYHEM TURTLE AGES CONFIRMED

this is a product of insanity on my behalf (no spoilers)

so to start things off the official TMNT Twitter posted this birth month chart for funzies, but I as someone who will never not take things as the factual truth, had to dive deeper.

WHAT DO WE KNOW

1. The movie and trailer both state that the turtles and splinter were mutated "15 years ago". So they are AT LEAST 15

2. The turtles have a confirmed age order being Leo>Raph>Donnie>Mikey (Don's description didn't mention his age but we can assume)

3. Splinter mentioned that when they were mutated they became the age equivalent of when they were animals (grown rat to grown rat man, baby turtles to turtle toddlers).

4. We now know what months they were born in.

WHAT DO WE DO WITH ALL THIS??

Well first we use rationality, if Leo's birthday is first but he's the oldest he must be at least a year older than Mikey and Donnie. We also know that 2008 was 15 years ago (... insane.....). With both of these we can assume that Leo's birthday is sometime January 2007, Raph is April 2007, Don is February 2008 and Mikey is March 2008. Thus making Leo and Raph 16 and Donnie and Mikey 15.

but why stop here...

See knowing the years they were born is the easy part, I want to know the age equivalent of when they were MUTATED. So for those who are curious please stick around

So, it is widely accepted that these four are musk turtles, musk turtles have a lifespan of about 30-50 years, roughly half the average person. We can also assume that the turtles were mutated in August 2008, given that is the same month that Superfly was born.

So let's say the human equivalent age is half of a turtles age (80-100 is roughly double the average 30-50 year turtle life span). Given that 1 year of turtle time is = .5 of human age we divide the turtles technical age PRE MUTATION by two (as before they were mutated they were developing like normal turtles). Leo would be 1 year 7 months in August 2008 assuming he was born in January 2007, so when he was mutated he was the equivalent to a 9.5 month old infant, For Raph he would have been 16 months pre mutation giving him the developmental age of about 8 months. Donnie would be at 3 months and Mikey at 2.5 months old in human development.

So with all that we could probably assume that the boys mental age is slightly less than their actual physical age. To calculate this we would take their developmental age post mutation and add 15 years (since August 2008) making them all 15 with a couple months difference.

To be fair none of this makes sense and I'm totally just running off a whim and got bored and wanted to do some math. But hey if you guys enjoy it

CONCLUSION :

the turtles are 15

TLDR: I did a shit ton of math to prove what we already know and was blatantly stated but with a little more nuance.

504 notes · View notes

her-power · 11 months ago

Text

So Called Chaos (Part Two: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Strong Language. Fluff. Lots of kissing, some petting, nothing explicit.

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 3.2k

(Reader POV)

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair dripping wet from your shower. You stare at the scar that sat below your left breast and wraps around to your back was slowly starting to fade, which made you happy, it was a constant reminder of that horrible night five years ago. You sigh, opening the bathroom mirror, taking out your morning pills. 80 mg of Prozac, 1000mg of gabapentin for nerve pain, Excedrin twice a day for migraines, 800mg ibuprofen for muscle pain. You didn’t even bother to go over the nighttime list; you were tired of taking pills, but it had become your daily routine for the last three years since you left the hospital. Moving back to your parents’ house was a decision you and your psychologist made together, but you were set on starting over, leaving the place where your entire life ended. Your mother’s death after the accident was the tipping point, you weren’t sure if you could handle anymore loss, and there was speculation that your mother took her own life. Your father was diagnosed with early onset dementia, you tried to visit him at least twice a week. He still had his sense of humor, but there were times he would ask you about her…about him, and you had to smile, tell him that they were okay, and change the subject.

Moving back to Indiana was a fresh start, and it almost felt like fate to you when you ran into Eddie Munson. The boy you grew to love in a short amount of time, the boy you thought about even when you said your ‘I dos’ to your late husband. Your stomach churns when you think about Sam, your sweet, kind, beautiful husband, he held on until the very end, talking to you while you were pinned beneath the dashboard, the air freezing, the sound of sirens swarming around you. You didn’t know at the time he was impaled in the stomach by a piece of metal, that once they removed him and the piece of metal, he would bleed out and die. He knew he was dying, but he made sure to keep you talking. “Remember when we went to Aruba?”

“I can’t feel my legs…why is it so cold…”

“Keep talking to me, baby.”

“I can’t see you…where is Lily?”

“They got her out…”

“Sam…are we dying?”

“No…stay with me…”

“Do you think there’s waterfalls?”

You were delirious at that point, you were falling in and out of consciousness, your lungs were heavy, they rattled when you breathed in.

You grip the sink in front of you, a panic attack settling in, you didn’t want to take your anti-anxiety, you need to do the deep breathing. You need this anxiety to go away before you saw Eddie, you weren’t ready to show him this side of you yet, you weren’t ready to tell him what happened to you, your husband, and your daughter.

“We can keep her comfortable, but there is no brain activity…”

“I don’t understand…she was fine…” You whisper, the pain in your bones becoming unbearable, you felt your heart turning to stone.

“You have been the reason why she has been hanging on for these last six months, I know you probably don’t believe it, but she can hear you. It’s your choice what you want to do next.”

You inhale a sharp breath. “Let her be hooked up to machines or let her die? How does a mother make that decision?”

Tears fill your eyes, and you wheel yourself over to your three-year-old daughters' bedside. You take her little hand in yours. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” You cry, kissing her palm and stroking her blonde curls. “You’re our little fighter. Daddy is waiting for you, okay? Don’t be afraid. I’ll find you.”

You sit on the floor of your bathroom, hyperventilating and you groan, holding your stomach. You let out a loud wail, full of anger and sadness. Your family never got justice; the drunk driver was released after only being in prison for a year. And you couldn’t bear the thought of staying in the same town where he resided.

You lean your head back, breathing in slowly through your nose and out your mouth. Deep breaths, baby. They’re coming I promise. Your heart rate slows, and your tremors disappear.

After giving yourself a few moments to calm down more, you step into your bedroom and get dressed. You toss an oversize knitted sweater over your head, black leggings, and your doc martens. You toss your hair up into a messy bun, dab your face in subtle make up and lip balm. You stretch your back, feeling your spine pop back into place and you grab your car keys.

You had texted him that you were on the way to the café, and he had asked you for your coffee order. When you pull into the lot, you are amazed at how quaint this place was. It must’ve been new; it was on the same strip of road where Miss Byer’s store was.

You spot Eddie’s hair as soon as you walk in, he’s making silly faces at Hunter who is sitting in his highchair, eating a cake pop. Eddie meets your eyes, and he smiles, standing up as you walk over to him. He hugs you tightly, and you look down at Hunter who gives you a large toothy grin.

“Oh hello, handsome, you look just like your Daddy.” You smile, gently tickling his cheek and he giggles. You sit down across from Eddie who hands you your coffee and Hunter goes back to eating his cake pop, while watching a toddler educational video on Eddie’s phone. Eddie leans his chin on his palm as he stares at you and you blush, sipping your coffee.

“You’re staring.” You giggle, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He laughs, leaning back in his seat. “It’s just wild that after all this time…”

“Yeah.” You smile, looking into his eyes. The same ones you fell in love with all those years ago; the eyes that held a story, even now.

“What have you been doing all these years?” He asks you, and you should’ve known that would’ve been a question he’d ask you. You swallow a lump in your throat, your leg bopping under the table.

“I graduated from college with a degree in English and teaching. I was an English teacher in the town I was living in for about ten years. Met my…husband at the school I was teaching at.” You smile at him, and he smiles sweetly at you.

“Where’s your husband now?” He asks.

Just tell him this part. Just tell him the first part of your tragic story. The rest will come later.

“He…he died, about five years ago.” Your eyes are welling up, but you don’t bother to push them back.

Eddie’s breath hitches and he lets out a huff. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.” He reaches over to grasp your hand and you take it willingly. You meet his eyes; they were sad for you.

“I’m okay.” You tell him with a grin. “I promise. I’m okay.”

You feel a damp, sticky hand pat the top of your hand and you look to see Hunter’s hand on top of yours, smiling at you. Your heart does a back flip as his blue eyes stare into yours, you take his little

“He likes you.” Eddie says with a chuckle. “He’s a lady’s man.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” You glance over at him, and he almost chokes on his drink.

“I barely had any ladies.” He laughs. “A lot of them just used me because I was in a band.”

You grin, Hunter grips onto your finger and you feel a certain love creep up on you that you have missed for so long. You make a silly face at Hunter who giggles, and then yawns. Eddie smiles, “He got up way too early this morning.” He brushes his curls from his little head. “He’s probably ready for a nap.”

You stare at Eddie, wondering if you should say what you’re about to say. “I’m sorry about Olivia.” You say gently. “I didn’t hear much about it, just that she passed, but…I’m really sorry.” You had known Olivia as an acquaintance, seeing her at parties when you were younger, or when you would sneak into the Hideout, from what you remember she was really nice.

Eddie stares at you and swallows hard, nodding his thanks. “I didn’t know you kept up with the trials and tribulations of Eddie Munson.” He jokes.

“Social media has it’s perks.” You laugh. “Robin posts a lot of pictures of this little guy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs. “Yeah, she’s obsessed with him. She keeps telling Vicky she wants a baby.”

“That’s amazing.” You smile. “She should do it.”

Hunter makes a little squeal and giggles; you take that as a cue that he was getting tired, and it was time to go. Eddie stands up, pulling him out of the highchair and you all walk out of the café. A sudden pain jolts down your leg, causing you to lose your balance but you catch yourself.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Eddie asks, gripping your forearm while Hunter rests his head on his chest.

You try to laugh it off, but the pain was getting worse. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just some muscle spasms. The luxuries of getting older.”

Eddie could tell you were in more pain than you were letting on, and you knew you couldn’t drive. You clench your teeth, the pain radiating to your other leg as you lean awkwardly against the wall of the café. You wanted to scream at your body, for taking this moment and ruining it because of your shit damaged nerves and muscles.

“Sweetheart…you’re shaking.” He tells you gently. “Why don’t I drive you back to my place? I don’t know if I feel alright with you driving home like this. You can sit, relax, put your feet up and we can come back for your car later.”

“Eddie, I’m fine.” You sigh.

“You’re so not convincing.” He laughs and you stifle a giggle. He switches Hunter to the other side of his hip and gently takes his other arm and reaches out to you. “Come on, can you walk?”

“I can manage.” You say softly, and his arm wraps around your waist as he easily lifts you from the wall and you slowly walk together towards his truck. You lean against the passenger side door while he buckles Hunter in his car seat. You rummage through your purse to find your gabapentin, and quickly take the tablet, dry swallowing it. The medication would take affect soon, so you had to suffer with the pulsating pain for the next few moments, but you’d been through worse. Eddie shuts the door to the backseat and walks over to you, you smile at him, still gritting your teeth.

“You’re gonna tell me what this is when we’re back at my house, right?” He says, gently running his thumb over your cheek and you tremble.

“I’m fine, Eddie.” You whisper and he dips his head down to look into your eyes, giving you a sly smirk and you laugh. “It’s nothing serious. I’m just old.”

“Liar.” He smirks, opening the door for you and he slowly helps you step up into the truck. You roll your eyes, and he winks at you, shutting the door and you sigh.

“Da…Da…Da…Da…hee…hee…” Hunter says behind you, and you laugh.

“Yeah, your dad thinks he’s funny.”

“Fun…ee…” Eddie is stepping into the driver’s side and whips his head to look at Hunter.

“Did he just say funny?” Eddie looks at you, pure pride and excitement on his face. “He just said funny! Good job, buddy!”

You smile at his boyish face, and Hunter continues to say funny over and over again on the drive back to the house. Eddie is laughing, but also feeling extremely overstimulated with the repetition of the word. “He’s gonna keep saying it, isn’t he?”

You laugh. “Yup. Welcome to parenthood.”

By the time Eddie had pulled into his garage, Hunter was sound asleep. The medication you took was easing the pain, you were able to gently lower yourself out of his truck and follow him and a sleeping Hunter into the house. His drum set, guitar and musical equipment catches your eye as you walk up to two steps into the house and you smile, glad that he still kept his music talents going after all these years.

He quietly shuts the door to the garage, and you stand awkwardly in the kitchen. You feel his hand on your lower back. “Go sit down, I’ll be down in a minute.” He whispers and you nod, carefully making your way towards the couch. You flinch as you sit down, you stretch out your legs, wincing as another shooting pain radiates down your leg. You try to focus on something else besides the pain and look at the framed photographs on the wall. There was a nice one of Eddie and Hunter what looks like to be his first birthday and Hunter is holding a toy guitar. You see one of Olivia holding Hunter when he was just born, you had forgotten how pretty she was, and you could see where Hunter got his eyes from. There was a framed autograph picture and gold record of Master of Puppets. That makes you smile, and seeing all the Lord of the Rings merchandise that graced his walls. The pain subsides and you perch your feet up on the ottoman, staring up at the ceiling when you hear Eddie come walking down the hallway. He places the video monitor on the coffee table next to him, sitting down across from you.

“How long have you been in pain like this?”

You smirk, he gets right to it.

“Five years.” You whisper, pulling your left leg under you and stretching out your other leg.

His eyes widen. “Five years? What happened?”

You sigh. “Eddie, it was a long time ago. I just got some nerve damage and crappy muscles in my legs. It’s just something I have to live with.”

“What happened?” He asks you again and you sigh, pulling your hair out of your bun and letting it fall, rubbing your scalp to soothe the tightness.

“Car accident. We were hit by a drunk driver.” You whisper.

Eddie is quiet. “Is that how your husband died?”

You nod, stretching out your leg again, you wanted to leave out what happened to Lily for as long as you could. “That is how my husband kicked the bucket.” You lean forward to massage your calf and chuckle. “Sorry, my trauma response is dark humor.”

Eddie stares at you, pointing to your shoes. “May I?” You stare at him and then your shoes.

“What do you want with my shoes?”

He laughs. “I don’t want your shoes, dummy. Take them off.”

You stare at him and lean forward, untying your boots and kicking them off your feet. You stretch your toes and Eddie takes your foot, resting it against his knee.

“Where does it hurt the most?” He asks you, gently massaging the top of your foot.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this.” You say, blushing at the softness of his fingers as they glide over the exposed skin of your ankle.

“You’re in pain, and I’m not a fan of people I care about being in pain.” He smiles at you. “Where does it hurt?”

You sigh, pointing to your middle calf area. “Here.”

He gently rubs his palm against your calf, and you groan, he stops and meets your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” You sigh, adjusting your position. “Why are you doing this?”

Eddie isn’t sure how to answer that, he isn’t sure why he’s doing it. He just knows he wants to; he wants to make you feel better. His hands continue to massage your calf, and he gently lifts your pant leg. The first thing he sees is the end of a stem of a tattoo, covering a large scar. The tattoo is three red roses, wrapped around a thin sword. Eddie glances up at you and sees that your eyes are filling with tears, and you have to look away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Eddie leans towards you, cupping your cheek and you shake your head, tears spilling over your cheeks. You inhale, gasping as a sob escapes your lungs and he moves next to you on the couch, pulling you to him. He holds the back of your head and cradles you to his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You…you didn’t…” You gasp and you have to pull back from him. “Eddie…I’m not…I’m not the girl you remember…there’s things that happened that completely changed the person I was.”

Eddie stares at your face. “I’m not the same boy you remember.”

You meet his eyes. “This was a mistake, coming here. Seeing you…there’s so many things that are coming back and so many feelings that I can’t even process right now. I can’t let you see this side of me, you’ve already seen too much.”

He whispers your name, reaching up to hold your face and you try to flinch away, but his hands are soft, and he instantly relaxes you. “What I see is a woman who is trying her damn best to keep her head above water, who experienced too much loss. What I see is a beautiful, strong, resilient woman who I can’t believe walked back into my life.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Eddie…”

“If you want to leave, you can leave, but I’m telling you right now…there’s a reason we met at the bookstore. There’s a reason you’re here right now…after all this time.” His face is so close to yours and you can’t help but stare directly into his eyes.

“I can’t bring you into this…with everything you have going on.”

Tell him what happened to Lily, baby.

No. No. I can’t. I can’t. It’s too damaging. I don’t even like saying it.

The two of you can help each other.

No, no, Sam, please. I can’t. It’s not fair to him.

I think he loves you.

I loved you! And you died.

Tell him, baby.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head, tears continuing to spill on your cheeks. This was too much; all of this was too much.

You take his hands away from your face, pressing your forehead against his. You couldn’t tell him.

Not yet.

You couldn’t tell him about your baby girl.

Your forever three-year-old.

Not yet.

So instead, you kiss him.

(Taglist - thank you for all your support my beauties, it means the world - @mysticpeachobject @kellsck @eddiesguitarskills @fearless-wretch-insanity @darknesseddiem @amberolivia666

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fluff #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson series

84 notes · View notes