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#and this is in the season where they tried to make the game straight
yandere-daydreams · 4 months
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Title: Bared Fangs.
Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.
Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Modern/Serial Killer AU, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Blood/Gore, Reader Gets Hurt, Obsessive Behavior, Gun Violence, and Unhealthy Relationships. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as Childe asked you if you wanted to go outside.
Honestly, you should’ve known something was wrong as soon as he found you reading in front of his fireplace, as soon as that crooked, schoolboy grin found its way to his lips and he forewent his usual routine of draping himself on top of you like some muscled, zealously homicidal weighted blanket in favor of ruffling your hair and toying with the collar of the flannel you were wearing (his flannel, technically, but you tried not to let yourself acknowledge how accustomed you’d grown to wearing your captor’s clothes or, more troublingly, how long it’d been since the last time you’d felt disgusted by it). “Snow should be done for a couple hours,” he started, nodding towards the frost-coated windows. It might’ve been a more charming sight if not for the scratches carved into the surface of the glass – souvenirs from there the first time you got your hands on one of his axes. “I’m thinking of stepping out, doing a little hunting before the storm kicks up again. Wanna come with me?”
You narrowed your eyes at your book, trying to hide the way your heart beat a little faster at the suggestion of being able to leave his claustrophobic cabin. But, with Childe, you were usually better off staying safely tucked behind the bars of your rustic cage. “Is this going to be a normal hunting trip or a you hunting trip?”
He only hummed. “’fraid I don’t know what you mean by that, princess.”
“Are we going to be hunting animals, or…” You trailed off, swallowing down the bitter taste that came with remembering why you were here. “… or, you know. People, or whatever.”
“This time of year?” He let out an airy laugh, like you’d asked to go skiing in the middle of summer. “There’s nobody on the mountain ’cept me and you.”
Still, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to try and think beyond your near-overwhelming desire to be anywhere but here. Childe was a murderer, a sadist, a kidnapper, but he wasn’t the type to play mind games. He tended to divide his reality between the world outside – where people could be hunted like quarry, their bodies left to rot in tents and rivers with only the occasional token taken as a keepsake – and the world inside the walls of his cabin – where he sat you down in front of a low-burning fire and told you stories about ice-fishing with his siblings and pouted when you admit his (admittedly, not entirely inedible) cooking could use a little more seasoning. After that first night – the worst night of your fucking life – he seemed to want to keep you resigned to the latter, at least until he came home covered in blood and desperate for something warm and familiar to fuck until he passed out.
Eventually, you sighed, closing your book and sitting up. “Fine. When do we leave?”
His grin widened, head lulling forward as he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “The front door’s already unlocked. I’ll give you a head start, a full five minutes. Actually, make it ten – just to make it a little more fun for you.”
 There was a beat of silence, then another. “Childe, you’re making it sound like you’re—”
“Like I said, there’s nobody on the mountain but me and you.” He pulled away, turning on his heel. “I’ll be nice, too – won’t use anything with more than a twenty-foot range.”
“But, you— you can’t just—”
“Tick-tock.” He clicked his tongue, winking at you over his shoulder. “Unless you’d rather cut straight to the good part.”
You should’ve known something was wrong, and now, running through the frozen wilderness desperately lost and barely dressed, your ten minutes spent and a killer undoubtedly chasing you down, you were paying the price for it.
You didn’t have time to be tactical. The snow was fresh enough to make every interruption unbearable obvious, meaning that – even if you were willing to stop and spare the seconds it’d take to hide your tracks, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Your only option was to run, but even that was easier said than done. Childe preferred to keep you in a state of hand-crafted domestic bliss, meaning what few clothes you did have were either picked out by or borrowed from him. Currently, all that separated you from the cold was his flannel, an oversized shirt, and a pair of his boots that you’d snagged on your way out. The chill snapped at your cold legs like the teeth of some unseen predator, the frigid air burning holes in your lungs, but the thought of what Childe would do when he caught you was enough to keep your feet moving, to keep you sprinting blindly through the forest. He wouldn’t kill you. You had to believe that he wouldn’t kill you, but—
A high-pitched holler, the sound of branches snapping underfoot and foliage being pushed aside somewhere behind you. You hadn’t stopped running after your first trembling steps away from the cabin, and yet, he couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet behind you – half a mile, at your most generous guess. You started to curse under your breath, then thought better of it, biting down on your bottom lip with enough force to draw blood and pivoting to the left, where the forest seemed to be just a little thicker. If you couldn’t get away from him, you could at least try to hide before he got to you.
It was a haphazard, half-baked plan that was cruelly and immediately cut short as your foot caught on a root hidden by the snow, tearing away your right boot and leaving you sprawled over the frozen ground. Dampness sunk into your thin clothes, and you shut your eyes, trying to listen for Childe’s footsteps, but there was a reason none of his victims ever seemed to hear him coming. The forest’s minimal white noise was enough to swallow him entirely, the sound of birdsong and distant car engines disguising his presence despite your best attempts to—
Your realization was delayed, but intense.
Cars.
Cars meant roads. Cars meant civilization. Cars meant people, people who could take you away from here, away from Childe. You clambered to your feet, but failed to take so much as a step before a sudden, stabbing pain bit into your calf, your leg immediately buckling underneath you. You would’ve fallen entirely if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline running through your system, numbing the agony and choking the ragged scream that threatened to rise from the pit of your chest into a cracked whimper. It was one of Childe’s arrows – you would’ve been able to recognize that black steel from a mile away – but you didn’t let yourself linger on the implications. With grit teeth and balled fists, you limped forward, leaving a thin trail of crimson in your wake. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking, but it was there – a thin, wobbling, unpaved dirt road, only marked by two thin rows of tire tracks that sliced harshly through the otherwise unmarred blanket of snow. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see dirt.
There wasn’t time to think. You stumbled out of the woods and into the road, the arrow’s head sinking that much deeper with every stuttering movement. The car you’d heard was still there, too; a by-the-numbers sedan, only a few hundred feet down the road. You threw up your arms up, then thought better of it; cupping your shaking hands around your mouth. You moved to call out, but whatever you might’ve said was stolen away from you as something dark flashed across your peripheral and another arrow planted itself in your right shoulder. This time, you crumbled like a dead leaf – broken into pieces by a morning gale.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Childe emerge from the tree line, his crossbow still in-hand. As he came to stand in front of you, your gaze shifted back to the car. You watched, your mind buzzing with pain, as it disappeared around a sharp bend, never so much as slowing down.
You didn’t realize you were crying until you heard Childe coo, wiping away the tears flowing down your cheeks before they could freeze against your skin. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, his voice low with a painful edge. “I guess I cheated, huh? Couldn’t help it – just knew you’d look so cute all bruised up and bleeding.”
Dropping his crossbow carelessly, he fell to your height. He was dressed for one of his usual hunts; a cut-off shotgun slung over his back, a hunting knife sheathed at his hip. The leather casing of the latter pressed into your side as he dipped lower, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a long, open-mouthed kiss into the base of your throat. You felt his knee settle between your thighs, and weakly, your hands found their way to his chest. “Not here,” you mumbled, more afraid of the chill quickly seeping under your skin than being seen. “It hurts, Childe. I—I think you hit something imp—”
“I’ll be fast.” Another kiss, this one to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His calloused hands skirted over your sides, then your waist, hiking the thin fabric of your oversized shirt up to your midriff. You were already past the point of total numbness, and yet, the rough gravel beneath the snow cut harshly into your exposed skin. Rather than distracting you from the pain in your calf, your shoulder, it only seemed to draw more attention to your bleeding wounds, only seemed to make it harder to ignore the dull heat of Childe’s mouth against your chest. “Gotta take you out more often. You’re always beautiful, but I didn’t know you’d look this pretty.”
It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His arrow burnt into the tattered skin of your calf as his hands fell to your legs, groping at the plush of your thighs playfully before shifting his attention to the fly of his jeans. You knew what he wanted, he’d always been transparent, but the sound of shifting fabric, the sight of his rosy-tipped, stiff cock pressing flush against his stomach – that was enough for the loose coil of dread writhing in the pit of your chest to tighten into a tight, jagged knot of pure terror. You tried to sit up, to make your refusal that much more apparent, but Childe only caught you by your uninjured shoulder, shoving you into the ground with enough force to earn a pained scowl, a fractured whimper. His only response was a wordless, vaguely sympathetic noise, a softened lull to his wide smile. “No skipping out on this, babydoll. I can’t guarantee you’ll end up in one piece if I have to wait ‘till we get home.”
It was a fair warning, but anything he could have said would’ve been lost on you. Your heart was beating in your ears, blocking out any other sound. Pools of red blood and piles of limp bodies flashed across your vision and desperately, futilely, you clawed at the hand on your shoulder, kicked at his chest, thrashed underneath him like an animal unaware that resistance would only make the predator want to drive its teeth that much deeper. It was more Childe’s divided attention than your strength, but your heel found his side and, just for a moment, he slipped, letting out a soft grunt as the hand pinning you down fell away. You were scrambling onto your knees in a second, attempting to get your feet underneath you in another, but your little stunt was cut short as Childe lashed out, wrapping his arm around your neck and forcing your stomach against the ground. There was no whimpering, anymore – just a ragged, ear-piercing scream as his free hand found the arrow in your shoulder, tearing it out of you in one clean, unfaltering motion. His only response came in the form of a throaty moan; deep and terrible and followed immediately by the feeling of his cock against your dry cunt. You would’ve begged him to stop, offered to let him do anything he wanted to you if he just didn’t do this, but he didn’t give you time to bargain. Without hesitation, he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.
Trembling sobs tore at your throat and past your lips, tears now flowing unabashedly down your cheeks. Childe kept his full weight against your back as he fucked into you with short, sharp thrusts – never happy unless he was burying himself in the deepest pocket of your poor, freezing pussy. Rather than desensitizing you, letting you fall back into some distant state of nonexistence, the snow seemed to burn where it was pressed into your cheek, your chest. You wished he would’ve taken off the rest of your clothes. You wished he would’ve just shot his stupid arrows into your skull and put you out of your misery.
It shouldn’t have felt good, you didn’t want it to feel good, but your body didn’t know that. Your cunt clenched and drooled around him, trying in vain to turn his assault into something you could enjoy, but the way he grunted into your ear snuffed out any pleasure you might’ve been able to feel. “Tryin’ to pull me back in,” he muttered, his voice already airy, already strung out. You couldn’t help but wonder if, had you only been able to run from him for another minute, he would’ve found something else to shove his dick into and left you out here to freeze to death. “Is that your goal? Wanna – Fuck, wanna help me warm you up?”
His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass flush against his hips and letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much more brutally. Your injured leg grated against the dirt of the road and you cried out, your voice ragged and barely coherent. “St— Hurts, stop, stop, please, stop—”
“That’s it, always making such pretty sounds for me.” He buried his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Sometimes, it feels like all I wanna do it cut you open and crawl—”
He was interrupted by the dull roar of an approaching engine and something brightened inside of you, your eyes shifting towards the road, towards the well-beaten pick-up truck speeding in your direction. The breaks screeched as you and Childe came into the driver’s view, and for a second, you let yourself go slack underneath him, relief overwhelming your better judgement.
Childe wasn’t so sentimental.
His shotgun was in his hand before you could so much as process that he’d moved. Wordlessly, he fired off two shots; the first to the windshield on the driver’s side and the second to one of the front tires. You watched on helplessly as your last hope for salvation bucked, swerved, then veered off of the road entirely, catching on a snowbank and turning over once before crashing into the trunk of an oak that failed to so much as shake under the force of the collision. It was quieter than you’d expected it to be, the only sounds that of shattering glass and crunching metal. If there were survivors, no one screamed, or called for help, or came stumbling out of the wreckage. Childe’s breath hitched in his throat, his pace growing that much more erratic as he buckled into you – his pointed canines finding the tender junction at the base of your throat and burying themselves in your skin. It was less a love-bite and more an effort to eat you alive. What little blood he didn’t lap up washed over your chest, melting the frost and mixing into the snow beneath you. “Look—” He groaned, tried and failed to pull away from you. His voice reverberated against the curve of your neck as he went on. “Look what you turn me into, princess. Got me making all kinds of messes for you.”
Blood. Bodies. The taste of his cum on your tongue as your friends bled out under the same roof. You would’ve choked the air in your lungs if you’d been able to breathe, but there was no point lingering on pleasant hypotheticals. There were no distractions from the feeling of Childe’s hips grating against yours, the way his cock twitched as settled against you. A guttural moan tore past his lips as something thick and searing flooded into you, and you refused to let yourself acknowledge that this was the warmest you’d felt in days.
You stayed there, limp and frozen and miserable, as Childe pulled away from you, pulled out of you. Your eyes fell shut as he stumbled to his feet, your skin too numb to feel anything aside from the pressure of his arms around your motionless body. He pulled you against his chest, then let out a low whistle. “Might’ve gone a little overboard there. Sorry ‘bout that, princess.” A low chuckle, a gentle squeeze. “I just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. You’ll forgive me after a warm bath, right?”
You didn’t answer. The arrow in your calf must’ve fallen out, or maybe not – you couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your hands felt like dead weight too, utterly disconnected from anything you might’ve used to control them, but every drop of panic, every ounce of horror – that all paled in comparison to the never-ending pit of pitch-black loathing that formed in your chest as you stared up at Childe. You hated him, wanted to see him torn apart with his own stockpile of weapons, but you really couldn’t blame him. Not for this, at least.
You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as the monster bared its fangs.
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portraitofadyke · 4 months
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I think Our Flag Means Death is a very unique show in a way that they don't care to cater to mainstream media. And yes, by mainstream media I mean the general straight people.
I think it's very important that we have feel-good shows like Heartstopper. A few years back, a tv show about two queer boys in high school would be unthinkable. But its plot generally revolves around explaining queerness. Sure, it's nice. It's definitely the show I would watch with my family if I were a teenager and wanted to come out again (I had to watch glee with my mom to do that. not optimal). It's the show where teenagers find love and themselves, but sexuality is constantly discussed, explained, sanitized. It's the show straight people will watch. And that's good. We do need shows like that.
But Our Flag Means Death doesn't even bother trying. It's a show about mostly middle aged people, most of them not white, most of them queer in one way or the other. It's really a game of spot the hetero, like someone said. And the characters are not sublte about it. They have sex for fun, something most characters don't have in tv shows, definitely not queer characters. They make dick jokes. They are not all conventionally attractive and they know it, and the writing doesn't care. They are all people before they are queer representation.
Stede's storyline in s1 is in a part about discovering himself and his sexuality, but it's not obnoxiously repeated. Instead, it's played in a natural way. Stede's storyline is ALL about finding himself, yet it's not just about that. Just like Ed's storyline, it's about toxic masculinity and allowing himself to have fine things and self-hatred and finding his place in a world, something most of us can relate to. Hell, none of us were even sure the main characters were going to kiss and end up together, we were all so sure it's a queerbait. But this show doesn't bait its audience. It's not afraid of weirdness. It embraces it instead. There is a nonbinary character. No, they are not a mermaid. Call them jim. That's it. Yes, Lucius and Pete got engaged. Everyone there knows what mateolage is, congrats. Olu and Jim never break up and then Archie shows up, then Zheng, and we all know. We all know.
Two men nearing fifty have a deep, romantic moment where one of them appears as a mermaid, and it's treated as the profound scene it is without ridiculing it. This would never fly in a 'mainstream' media. It would have to be downplayed. Here, it saves Ed's life.
The show tells you racists suck, but it doesn't tell you in a condescending, finger-waving way catered to the white people. Instead, it sets your ship aflame and burns you alive, runs a knife through your hand, puts poison in your drink and kills you.
This is a show for adults, for queer people of all kinds, and it does not give a fuck if anyone else gets it. It's so rare to find a tv show that caters to us, yet alone a tv show that's genuinely good and caring and so well loved.
This is a show that basically straightbaited its audience in the first season, that's how much they don't care.
Idk, I just feel that it will take ages for another show like OFMD to exist in a world full of MCU and media that tries so hard to be liked by everyone it loses its personality and charm. Rant over
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wlwcatalogue · 3 months
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Some WLW (?) Jdrama & Kdrama recommendations!
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Jdramas and Kdramas have a (not-entirely-unearned) reputation for being very straight, but here are a few which are either canonically F/F or which prominently feature a female-female pair-- please enjoy! For those who enjoy following series in real time, Chaser Game W and She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat S2 are both airing this January 2024 :)
As with my post on anime with yuri subtext, since subtext is so subjective, this list only includes series which I’ve actually watched, and so is by no means intended to be comprehensive. Also, it doesn't include any webseries, since those probably deserve a post of their own.
At-a-glance list:
Miss Sherlock (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext)
Night Light (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext)
Tokusatsu Gagaga (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext)
Painter of the Wind (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?)
She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon)
Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta (5 episodes, 1992) (canon)
Chaser Game W (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon)
Doctor X (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext)
Bonus: SKY Castle (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext)
Summaries under the cut!
1. Miss Sherlock / ミス・シャーロック (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext) – MyDramaList | AsianWiki
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The elevator pitch for this show is simple: it’s Sherlock Holmes, but where Holmes and Watson – here named “Sherlock” and Tachibana Wato, and played by Takeuchi Yuko and Kanjiya Shihori, respectively – are both female, and the cases are all set in modern Tokyo. As with other adaptations, mystery-solving and the budding relationship between the two leads takes centre stage, but Miss Sherlock manages to carve out an identity all its own.
There’s a calm beauty to its visuals, which favour sunlight and urban greenery, and the show’s focus on former doctor Wato as she tries out new jobs and goes to therapy means that there’s a surprisingly high number of slice-of-life scenes. It’s also subtly more female-focused than the source material; Sherlock’s gossipy but good-natured landlady Ms. Hatano (Ito Ran) is as much a member of the household as Sherlock and Wato, and the cases often revolve around female characters. But more than anything, it’s just really fun to watch Sherlock and Wato’s relationship bloom as they snip and snipe and are utterly unable to stay out of each other’s space (literally – the body language and blocking is *chef’s kiss*). Their relationship is the heart of the show – watch this one until the end, you won’t regret it!
(CW: psychological abuse, manipulation, and genre-typical murder, violence, and gore)
2. Night Light / 불야성 (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki
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(Note: spoilers for the mid-season twist, but it’s impossible to allude to a good portion of the F/F subtext without doing so, and I think knowing the twist ahead of time doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.)
Night Light is a rather odd show. It’s simple enough on the face of it, a story about  successful but ruthless CEO Seo Yi-kyung (an icy Lee Yo-won) who tries to mold the younger Lee Se-jin (a puppy-eyed Uee) in her own ambitious image, only for her protege to develop the conscience she never had and move to stop her dastardly plans… but upon watching it’s a totally different creature,  thanks to the alchemic reactions of some delightfully contradictory acting choices (Uee’s performance convinces viewers less of Se-jin’s supposed latent desire for power and money, and more of a deep love and devotion for the CEO) and the unintentionally (?) inneundo-laden script (“If I like something once, I never forget it– whether it’s a dress… or a person,” declares the CEO less than ten minutes into the first episode while gazing intently at Se-jin).
Honestly, it’s a wonder this series ever got made, but you certainly won’t see me complaining! The first part is full of boss/subordinate goodness; Se-jin is unable to resist the CEO’s magnetic pull despite her hot-and-cold behaviour, while the CEO cannot bring herself to push Se-jin away completely. And then, when Se-jin makes her mind up to stop the CEO, it morphs into a corporate take on a (subtextual) lovers-on-opposite-sides situation, where it is precisely Se-jin’s feelings for the CEO that motivate her to stop her. In short, it’s a workplace GL fan’s dream.
Note: If you do watch it, skip the corporate politicking cutscenes with the old men, you’ll thank me later. Also, there’s a prominent male character who is the CEO’s ex and who works closely with Se-jin in the second half, but don’t worry, all the M/F romance is in the past (and doesn’t get much screentime)– he and Se-jin aren’t interested in each other at all.
3. Tokusatsu Gagaga / トクサツガガガ (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki
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Nakamura Kano (Koshiba Fuka) lives and breathes tokusatsu shows (think Power Rangers, if you’re not familiar), but keeps it a secret from her work colleagues to avoid being shunned or laughed at. And yet she yearns for connection, so when she sees a woman on the subway bearing a keychain from her favourite show (Yoshida Hisami, played by Kurashina Kana), she is determined to find her again.
Although ostensibly about being a tokusatsu fan as an adult, this show is rife with queer subtext, and not in the usual way. It deals with the difficulties of staying in the closet (regarding being an adult tokusatsu fan), the desire to connect with other queer people adult tokusatsu fans and how one might do so through hints and signals, parental disapproval arising from gendered and social expectations (that tokusatsu shows are for boys, and magical girl shows for girls), intersectionality and finding comradeship with other minorities people who are excluded due to their interests, and even generational gaps wherein younger queers fans may underestimate the obstacles that still exist. Although all that might sound a bit stressful, it isn’t actually! Difficult incidents are handled with sympathy and a dash of wry humour, and the show never loses sight of the fact that it – above all else – is a story about finding queer community in the face of a heteronormative hostile world, told with warmth and the nuance of lived experience.
4. Painter of the Wind / 바람의 화원 (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki
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Adapting the novel of the same name by Lee Jung-myung, Painter of the Wind takes as its protagonist a gender-bent version of real-life Joseon-era painter Shin Yun-bok (Moon Geun-young), whose paintings are used to weave a tale of artistry, political intrigue, and romance, and more than anything else to offer modern-day viewers a glimpse of everyday life in 18th-century Korea.
While it may sound like Dickinson’s boring cousin, apart from having a common preoccupation with reframing historical works, another similarity the two shows share is that Painter of the Wind is also very gay. Starting from the first episode, Yun-bok meets and becomes fascinated by the courtesan Jung-hyang (Moon Chae-won), who despite her initial aloofness is drawn to Yun-bok’s intellect and sensitive demeanour. It’s a real meeting of the minds, their witty repartee in early episodes reminiscent of Twelfth Night’s Viola and Olivia, and their relationship isn’t siloed off from the main plot either: Yun-bok’s infatuation quickly starts causing issues with her academic career, and the two eventually have to contend with Jung-hyang’s precarious position as a courtesan as well.
Unfortunately, all this is undermined in the back half of the show, which tries to gaslight viewers into thinking that Yun-bok’s feelings for Jung-hyang were purely platonic all along and that she totally has romantic feelings for her much older male mentor— but hey, at least it’s an open ending. Despite everything, though, I can’t think of another serious historical TV show which features such a prominent F/F narrative for its main character, even nearly two decades later. (Let me know if you have any others! And no, Gentleman Jack doesn’t count, it’s not exactly traditional in style!)
(CW: period-typical sexism)
5. She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat / 作りたい女と食べたい女 (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon) - MyDramaList
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Based on Yuzaki Sakaomi’s manga of the same name, this simple but sweet show follows home-cooking extraordinaire Nomoto Yuki (Higa Manami), who yearns to cook large-scale dishes but doesn’t eat enough to justify making them. Luckily for her, her neighbour Kasuga Totoko (Nishino Emi) has a massive appetite!
It’s always lovely to see more grounded stories about working women, especially when they’re as cute as this one. Though it touches upon some slightly more serious issues, such as with regard to gendered expectations surrounding food and cooking, it’s primarily a feel-good slice-of-life show about two women getting to know each other by cooking and eating delicious food together.
Side note: if you’ve started it and think the show doesn’t look cosy enough, stick it out for a few more episodes, the production values improve after the first part! Also, the series was renewed for a second season with double the episode count (for a total of 20 episodes) which will start airing on January 29th this year, so this is the perfect time to jump in!
6. Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta / その時、ハートは盗まれた (5 episodes, 1992) (canon) - MyDramaList
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Sono Heart, as it’s nicknamed, starts off as a typical heteronormative high school romance: bumbling protagonist Shiina Hiroko (Isshiki Sae) is desperate to get closer to her crush Katase Masato (Kimura Takuya), star of the school basketball team and all-round nice dude. However, a spanner in the works comes slouching along in the form of female classmate Aso Saki (Uchida Yuki, in her debut role), a mischievous, short-haired personification of trouble who Katase turns out to have feelings for. One day, Hiroko gets into a fight with Saki, and they end up having to stay together after school as punishment. But that afternoon gives them the opportunity to bond over a heart-to-heart conversation, and things seem to improve… until, just before leaving, Saki kisses Hiroko. And then everything changes.
Or rather, everything changes eventually. What’s great about this show is that it doesn’t take shortcuts: Hiroko doesn’t instantly fall in love with Saki. Instead, what you get is a surprisingly layered portrait of a high school girl whose coming to terms with queerness is merely a natural extension of reckoning with her burgeoning sexuality. And, because Saki is self-destructive in her depression and makes a game of belittling, worrying, and infuriating anyone who cares about her, it’s really a story about what it means to love another person rather than a romantic ideal. A word of warning, though: Katase is actually quite a large character, as he and Hiroko end up becoming friends. Also, the ending is very abrupt and inconclusive, though rest assured that it doesn’t try to roll back Hiroko’s feelings, or pair either girl off with a guy.
(CW: self-harm, attempted suicide, bullying, homophobia, underage drinking)
7. Chaser Game W: Power Harassment Boss Is My Ex-Girlfriend / チェイサーゲームW: パワハラ上司は私の元カノ (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki
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Probably jumping the gun here as only two episodes have aired as of writing, but I feel honour-bound to recommend this as it’d probably appeal to a lot of people, if only they knew about it! Chaser Game W is a standalone spin-off of Chaser Game, itself an adaptation of a manga of the same name by Matsuyama Hiroshi and Matsushima Yukitarou, but you don’t need to know anything going in.
Protagonist Harumoto Itsuki (former Keyakizaka46 captain Sugai Yuuka) has been assigned a new job: her company has been asked by a Chinese conglomerate to develop a game adaptation of a GL manhua, and she’s been tapped as the project leader. However, what appears to be an exciting prospect soon becomes a terrifying one, as the person sent by the client to supervise turns out to be her ex-girlfriend from university (Lin Dongyu, played by Japanese actress Nakamura Yurika), who is now married to a Chinese man (played by a Japanese actor) and has a child, but remains hell-bent on exacting revenge on Itsuki for their bad breakup. This is a romantic (melo)drama rather than a psychological thriller, though, so you won’t be watching Itsuki getting terrorised the entire time. While she is understandably upset by her ex’s current behaviour, Itsuki can’t forget about their happy days together, and Dongyu herself veers between being a sneering bully and craving Itsuki’s affection.
Do note that the show isn’t without its flaws: it’s very Japanese about the Chinese thing, which is to say it’s filled with comments which range from somewhat offensive to borderline racist, and the script will probably give you a headache if you know even the slightest thing about game development. Your mileage might vary on the ex too, as she can be really quite nasty to Itsuki and her teammates. But if you can overlook those issues, this is a rare prize indeed: a TV drama focusing on a canonical F/F pair, who are specifically exes, and in a workplace setting.
(CW: bullying)
8. Doctor X / ドクターX (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki
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To be very honest, I was in two minds about including Doctor X on this list. It is, with a few notable exceptions, misogynistic and reductive in its depictions of women (especially in the first two seasons), gives too much screentime to objectively awful and subjectively annoying men, doesn’t respect the work done by medical personnel apart from surgeons, and on the technical front is formulaic, repetitive, and often lazy in its writing and presentation. Unfortunately, the dynamic between the genius surgeon protagonist Daimon Michiko (Yonekura Ryoko) and her anaesthesiologist wife partner friend Jounouchi Hiromi (Uchida Yuki) is almost unparalleled in its excellence.
The premise of the series is basic indeed: Daimon Michiko is a freelance surgeon with a healthy disrespect of rules and authority and, unluckily for her detractors, a cast-iron guarantee that she will succeed in any surgery, no matter how difficult. She’s initially portrayed as a lone wolf who’s dismissive of the entire hospital system and anyone who’s part of it— but her interest is piqued by the anaesthesiologist Jounouchi, who is skilled beyond her peers and chafes against the idiocy of her colleagues. For all its flaws, the first season – which is more serious and edgy in tone compared to the others, and isn’t an ensemble cast like the post-S3 seasons – is a fantastic depiction of two people being perfectly matched in skill, intellect, and outlook, and how they come together despite one being standoffish (Jounouchi) and the other not being used to reaching out to or even respecting other people (Daimon).
The seasons after that sadly ditch the emphasis on Jounouchi being Daimon’s professional equal, but in exchange offer up another rare and unexpected gift: two women in their late thirties / early forties who are partners both at work and in private. Jounouchi is Daimon’s designated anaesthesiologist, assisting with nearly every surgery, and she spends so much time at Daimon’s agency-office-slash-house you’d think she’d moved in. Also, after a point they just start being wonderfully dorky and comfortable with each other, while still being consummate professionals in the operating theatre. Although the show is very much focused on Daimon Michiko as its sole protagonist, Jounouchi is undoubtedly the character most significant to her – even more than Daimon’s father figure, the head of the freelance agency – and this is highlighted in the story from time to time. They are very, very good. I just wish the series was better.
Note: If you’re curious, I would recommend watching the very first episode in full– by the end you should know if you’re invested enough to continue, otherwise drop it and live in the happy knowledge that you dodged a bullet. If you aren’t so lucky, I’d advise skipping the surgery segments when they start to bore, and in general to skip liberally. Also, season 4 is not worth watching as a whole, except for the last two episodes, which absolutely should not be missed. Sigh. I can’t speak to seasons 6 and 7, due to having paused mid-S6.
Side note: If you’ve watched Doctor X already and liked it (or at least like Daimon and Jounouchi), but haven’t tried Miss Sherlock yet, definitely give that a go because there seems to be a big overlap in the fandoms. Maybe it’s because they both feature a genius protagonist, have the two largest female characters being work partners, and domestic vibes…?
(CW: sexism, genre-typical gore)
Bonus: SKY Castle / SKY 캐슬 (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki
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(Note: slight spoilers for the early episodes, but it’s necessary in order to give a more accurate recommendation regarding the F/F subtext, especially as the show is not primarily focused on any one relationship.)
This one’s a bonus because unlike the others on this list, there’s no close relationship between two female characters which could be interpreted in a romantic light. That’s not too surprising as the show is all about the women of a several super-wealthy families trying to get their children into the top Korean universities (equivalent to the Ivy League) whilst supporting their husbands in the rat race: a decidedly heteronormative premise, albeit one that’s executed in an award-winning manner.
So why am I listing it? Well, it’s because somehow, in this series about heteronormative and highly gendered nuclear families, it features possibly the most erotically-charged dynamic I have seen, even taking season 1 of Killing Eve into account. (Though it takes some time to get there, so if you try it out, please watch at least the first four episodes before making a decision!)
That honour goes to the problematic gem that is the relationship between the main character Han Seo-jin (Yum Jung-ah), who is willing to do whatever it takes to get her daughter into Seoul’s top medical school, and star tutor Kim Joo-young (Kim Seo-hyung), who is known for her 100% success rate. It starts off with a mild push-and-pull, when Han Seo-jin wants Coach Kim to take on her daughter, but is wary of the shady rumours surrounding her; the tutor stands firm, and Han eventually has to swallow her pride and accept the risks. Where it really comes into its own, though, is when Coach Kim starts to pose a legitimate threat to everything Han cares for: her daughter, her marriage (or rather, what her husband can give her), her position in the world. It becomes increasingly clear that Han should just walk away, and indeed she tries to do so many a time, only to bend in the end because the coach is key to fulfilling her dearest wish– and so to Han, for all she rages and resents and fears, Coach Kim is nothing less than temptation itself. This is the beating core of the show, and even as the plotting disintegrates and falls into melodrama in the second half, their scenes together still crackle with delicious tension every time. Watch it.
(CW: suicide, psychological abuse, child abuse, bullying, murder)
477 notes · View notes
dear-bunnyboo · 5 months
Note
I am in love with your fics 💕
Can I please request a Joe Burrow one shot where it’s about his calf early in the season, the reader constantly worries about Joe and tells him to sit each game out but Joe is stubborn so he doesn’t listen and Joe snaps at one point and it hurts the reader. Then it moves to one day where the reader doesn’t even bother worrying about him because the reader knows Joe won’t listen. Can it be angsty but end on a good note.
first Joey B one-shot angst!!! Love this request so much and it kinda lowkey reminded me of my other Joe Burrow one-shot— IDGAF 🤍
I never intended this one-shot to be too perfect for our current situation but it is what it is. This is for all my loves who are all lowkey freaking out because of the game, hope this makes you feel better even more just a moment 🤍
𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You just want Joe to listen to you and say yes for once.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, cursing, mentions of injuries, shouting, frustrated!Joe, arguments, crying, fluff in the end
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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You thought that this season would start different for your boyfriend Joe but it seems like it’s simply rotten luck on his part— you could say that Joe is a lucky guy; from being gifted with insane talent, skill, looks, personality, and the likes. However, he seems to have a knack on starting his football season either injured or sick.
It started with his knee injury during his rookie year— tearing left ACL and MCL during one of his games. Then him rupturing his appendix the year after, earning him another trip to the surgery table.
You honestly thought that this year was gonna be different for the quarterback. He has always been vocal about his disappointment in missing the beginning of each season— one of Joe’s many goals every year to to start the season healthy and end it healthy.
You and Joe thought that this year would be finally be the year he starts off strong and healthy— you were both wrong.
After getting a call from the Bengals’ coach Zach Taylor about your boyfriend being carted off the practice field for straining his calf; you were pretty sure you were close to crying. Joe’s calf injury surprisingly is the least serious out of all the injuries he had sustained but seeing your boyfriend so depleted once he got home from that practice hurt you.
Joe loves football. He loves what he does and it hurts you to see him so defeated.
However, Joe is not one to give up that easily. Once he got the clearance to continue with practice, he went straight for it and he was adamant on playing their first game of the season. You, however, you didn’t think it was a good idea for him to do so. Most of the people around him want him to sit the first few weeks out— you especially; scared that he might aggravate his injury even further.
But Joe was a lot of things and stubborn was one of those things.
He simply brushed your concerns off with a smile, “I feel good to play, baby. I need to play.” Joe reassured you before slightly limping over to his office to do his film study.
“You really don’t need to. It’s the first week, Joe.” You tried again before he could even leave your sights.
Joe turns to face you, and gave you another reassuring smile, “I’m fine. Alright? I’ll be okay.”
He was proven very wrong when week 1 rolled in and they loss to Cleveland— a terrible start for the season, you love Joe and are pretty bias towards the Bengals but you’d be lying if you said they didn’t play like ass that day.
Joe clearly wasn’t playing like himself. Everyone with two working eyes could see that his injury was holding him back—every tackle, every run, every movement he made made you gnaw on your lips.
You knew that he was blaming himself, yet you also knew that this would only push Joe to try even harder when the one thing he should be doing is rest.
“Joe, seriously. I don’t think you should play next week.” You tried reasoning out to your hard-headed boyfriend who seemed like he had his mind already made.
“That was a terrible game we just had. Which why I need to play next week so we can start strong— get our footing back.” Joe sighed as he ran his hands over his face in frustration as he remembered his awful performance.
“You are injured— you’re calf isn’t fully healed yet, people understand.” You said standing in front of the quarterback, trying to console the inconsolable.
“That’s not an excuse.”
“It is—”
“I’m playing next week— that’s final. Now, can we please talk about something else?” Joe cuts you off.
You blinked a couple times at your boyfriend before sighing, succumbing to his request you turned to move to the kitchen.
“What do you want to eat?”
You succeeded in changing the subject to your surprise earning a appreciative smile from Joe. As you made your dinner, you conversed with your boyfriend while you thought about the next game against the Ravens.
0-2
Week 2, different team, same predicament.
The Bengals lost, again. Which honestly didn’t come as a surprise for you— it was a better game at least, compared to the shit show that was week 1.
Joe did however, re-tweak his calf. Seeing him limp off the field after the game broke your heart. You could practically feel the frustration come out of Joe from a mile away— hopefully, this time he says yes to you and rest.
However, when Joe got home, you knew right away that his injury wouldn’t him from playing.
When you opened the door to greet your boyfriend, you immediately noticed the way he was leaning all his weight on his good leg. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a tight line— you had an inkling that you were not going to like whatever he was about to say.
And you were right.
“Before you even say anything— I’m fine. I only re-tweaked it and yes, I will be playing next week.” Joe hobbled inside the house, heading towards the kitchen to fix himself a drink.
“Joe you’re not okay.” You said firmly finally putting your foot down causing Joe to turn to look at you.
“You just strained your calf, you only re-tweaked it, what the hell is next, Joe?” You said trying to keep you voice calm, however, your furious eyes staring into Joe’s was betraying what you truly felt.
Your boyfriend threw his head back with a deep sigh in frustration. You two have seem to have the same conversation over and over again every week— and Joe didn’t understand why you can’t grasp the fact that he will be present every game. While you didn’t understand that Joe can’t grasp the fact that he needed to sit his ass down before he hurts himself even more.
In all honesty, you were scared— terrified even. You knew what you signed up for the second you accepted to be Joe’s girlfriend. You understood how dangerous it’s gonna be, you understood how hard it’s going to be for the both of you. But after tearing his ACL and MCL you were just living on the edge; constantly in fear that something even terrible was going to happen.
Getting that call from Zach, shook you to your core. You remembered dreading that it was gonna be career ending, luckily it wasn’t— just a strained calf, but on the rate Joe is going, you’ll never know.
“How many times am I going to tell you that I’m fine?” Joe was finally angry… angry at you. Listening to his tone made your heart drop, yet you can’t blame him. You know how much pressure he’s in; the amount of times people called him names just because of his bad performances; especially after signing a $275 million deal.
“All I’m asking is one game, Joe. Just one. Just sit one out— if you listened to me and didn’t play week 1 we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” You said defeatedly.
“And if you listened to me you’d actually know that I’m fine.” The quarterback retaliated.
The two of you were now face to face in the kitchen, both trying not to let anger get the best of you two and scream.
“Stop saying that when you are clearly in pain, Joe!” You threw your hands up in frustration as you watched your boyfriend eye you up and down.
“I don’t understand why you’re so worked up about this— it’s my health, my job, my life!” Joe grunts moving to walk away to hole himself back into his office.
His health. His job. His life. While his girlfriend is losing her goddamn mind.
“I’m concerned, Joe. It’s my job to worry about yo–”
“Then fucking don’t!” Joe snaps at you making you step back in shock.
Joe has never yelled at you, not once.
“And again, I’m playing next week whether you like it or not.” Joe’s tone finally calmed down, his blue eyes eyeing your still figure as you stared at him as if you didn’t know who he was.
Just then did Joe realized what he said to you— and moreover, how he said it. His eyes soften under the realization, his tall figure walking towards you to gather you in his arms and apologize.
But before he could do so, something snapped inside of you.
“Baby, I’m so so–”
“No. You’re right. I’m sorry.” You shook your head as if snapping yourself out of a trance before looking up at your now concerned boyfriend who was watching you closely.
His health. His job. His life.
“What do you want for dinner?” You smiled at him, the fakest one you could muster— Joe noticed, he wasn’t stupid… maybe he was a little.
“Do you want pasta? I’ll make you pasta.”
Thankfully week 3 was successful.
The Bengals’ first win of the season. The game wasn’t up to par with their usual standards of playing but a win is a win— and you were grateful for that win, for your sake and Joe’s.
The days leading up to the game against the Titans were fast approaching and Joe was frustrated. During practice he took notice how he still wasn’t 100% healthy and that bothered the quarterback; it affected his mobility and his speed mostly which throws his game off.
They won their first game of the season and Joe knows not to be complacent. Yet, he can’t help but hear that nagging voice inside his head that was telling him that you were right— hell, everyone was right. You weren’t the only one who wants him to skip a few games. Ever since his calf injury, his teammates, his coach, his parents, and the fans were all adamant for him to rest.
Obviously, Joe didn’t listen which only caused his calf to take longer to heal which you warned him would happen. As he hobbled up inside his house after practice, he was greeted by the sound of the living room TV— there you were snuggled up on the couch fully immersed as you watched your favorite show.
“Hey.” Joe announced his arrival causing you to turn the TV off and turn to him with a reserved smile.
“Hey, how was practice?” You asked before walking up to the quarterback placing a kiss on his awaiting lips.
“It was tiring as usual.” Joe stated as he wrapped his arms around your waist before continuing, “My calf is sore too.” He confessed guilt filled his face as he awaited for your reaction.
“I’ll prepare an ice compress. Sit down and elevate your leg up the couch.” You pulled away from him before pushing him down the couch lightly. You placed a few pillows at the end of the couch and carefully helped Joe place his injured leg on it.
You quietly moved to get his ice compress not saying another word which was unusual for you— shocking Joe. He was so sure the you were gonna scold him again.
But you didn’t.
You placed the ice compress on his injured calf, placed a kiss on his lips, before turning to him and saying, “I need to shower. Just yell if you need anything.”
Then you left.
No scolding, no questions, no expressing of concern— nothing.
Clearly what Joe said the other day is still bothering you. You still cared and loved the man, obviously. You still took care of him. But your opinions— as much as you’re concerned are not needed, so you kept quiet and kept them to yourself.
Joe didn’t like it at all. He knew he messed up the second he said what he said. The look on your face pained him, he hated himself for talking to you in such way and making you feel like you were in the wrong.
And now you’ve shut down.
While Joe was thankful for the ice compress, he can only hope that the next one he gets from you would be accompanied by the same smile that always greets him whenever he gets home from a long day of practice.
2-2
It was the last week of September and the Bengals were still winning. However, Joe wasn't winning.
The quarterback knew that you were still angry with him. He knew that ever since the moment he got home. It's been weeks since he had a proper conversation with you— it was as if the both of you were living separate lives, and it killed him.
Every morning he would wake up with his breakfast and medicine ready and every night, dinner would be on the table with your plate untouched and the leftovers covered and put away inside the fridge.
Joe had never been in this position before. You have never been mad at him, never. Not once. Sure, the two of you have fought over trivial things here and there but never had the two of you had a fight as big as this one.
Joe knows how much he fucked up, yet he's not sure if you were ready to forgive him or if he even deserved it.
And it seems like, the universe is testing his patience.
Joe was frustrated, so damn frustrated. This season wasn't going as well as he wanted it to go and with his calf injury, his mobility was greatly affected and the pain was also hindering him from playing to his fullest capacity.
And it was getting harder and harder to hide it from his girlfriend.
You were starting to catch on, and you were starting to suspect that something was going on with him. But being the stubborn and proud man he was, he refused to let it affect his performance, or the relationship with his girlfriend.
After an excruciating practice, the quarterback was greeted by the sight of his beautiful girlfriend, who was already in the kitchen cooking for dinner.
"Hey." Joe greeted.
"Hi." You simply greeted back without even looking up from the vegetables you were cutting.
"Smells good." He tried, wanting to engage a conversation with you.
"Thank you." You smiled before throwing the vegetables in the pan, "Dinner will be ready in a bit. Can you wash up?"
Joe stared at your back for a few moments before nodding his head, "Alright."
You heard the bathroom door close and that's when you decided to let the tears fall from your eyes.
You missed your boyfriend. You wanted your boyfriend back.
This whole thing was draining you. You hated having to keep yourself together and act as if everything was alright. It was eating you inside.
You weren't the type to hold grudges, especially to Joe. You always understood his point of view, and even if he was wrong, you'd always forgive him. But the way he talked to you last time, the way he treated you, made your heart ache.
"Fuck." You muttered as you wiped the tears from your eyes and proceeded to cook dinner.
You can't remember how long it had been since you've properly talked to Joe. The both of you have been tiptoeing around each other, not wanting to push the other's buttons.
And you were sick of it.
"How was practice?" You asked once the two of you had sat down at the dining table to eat.
Joe looked up from his food and gave you a small smile, "It was good."
You nodded your head and proceeded to eat.
"How was your day?" Joe asked after a few minutes of silence.
"It was fine."
Joe sighed before looking up at you, "Please don't do that."
"What?" You feigned innocence.
"Pretend."
"What are you talking about?" You said defensively.
"Baby, come on. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Joe said.
You rolled your eyes before scoffing, "I'm not pretending."
"You've barely said a word to me in the past three weeks. Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"
"Oh, because you didn't say a word to me either. And you were the one who told me to not worry. So, I'm not worrying." You fired back.
"You're being stubborn."
"Oh, now I'm the stubborn one?" You chuckled sarcastically.
"Yeah. You are." Joe nodded his head.
"So, what? Are we just not going to talk until we die?"
"Well, clearly that's the option that you're leaning on."
"I can't talk to you when you're acting like a dick!" You exclaimed, clearly tired of him putting the blame on you.
"Because you're the picture perfect definition of maturity and rationality."
"You're such a fucking asshole." You muttered, pushing your plate away from you before standing up.
"Where are you going?"
“Away from you.” You moved to walk towards the bedroom.
Joe let out a frustrated groan before standing up to catch your hand in his.
“Can we please talk about this? Properly like adults?” Joe was practically begging at this point.
You stared at him, contemplating if you should actually have a civil conversation or just brush him off.
However, Joe didn't give you the time to think.
He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and sweet and everything you needed to finally snap. You pulled away and looked at him, his blue eyes gazing into yours.
"Joe..."
"I'm so sorry."
Joe didn't know where it came from. One moment he was pleading for you to listen to him, and then the next thing he knows is that his mouth was already moving, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for not listening to you, and I'm sorry for taking it all out on you. I'm sorry for hurting you, baby. I didn't mean what I said, and I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth. I'm so, so sorry."
He kissed your forehead before cupping your face in his hands.
"I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I'm not even gonna ask if I'm forgiven because I probably don't deserve it. But, I need you to know that I'm sorry."
You looked up at him before nodding your head, "I'm not mad at you anymore, Joe. I was, and I was hurt. But I wasn't mad."
"I was hurt sure but I knew how frustrated you were and how much pressure you are in— so i understand.” You sighed. “ I hate seeing you hurt and I know how much you love your job but what if it’s also the reason you lose it?” You finally confessed as your eyes filled with a light mist.
“I just want you to rest. For a day at least— cause that is never gonna get better if you didn’t and you know it.” You pointed at his injured calf as you explained.
“Yes, baby. I know and I will.” Joe promised.
And he kept that promise— leading on after their bye week, they have been winning games after games. Joe’s performance drastically changed from how he started. Everyone could see that their quarterback was back, which you couldn’t take credit for— cause Joe was a lot of things; stubborn, hard-headed, but he is also hard working.
And you couldn’t be more proud.
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dividers: @cafekitsune
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990 notes · View notes
nanamimizz · 1 year
Text
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝚬 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝚬.
tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, established relationship, pro soccer player kunigami, closet sex, fingering, making out, penetrative and oral sex hinted, jealousy and possessive themes, mention of unwanted flirting and physical touch - let me know if i missed something !
synopsis: what is kunigmai rensuke’s is kunigami rensuke’s, and nothing will change that even your stupid co-worker who can’t keep his hands to himself.
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If Kunigami had it his way, he'd make it so you would never have to lift a finger. He’s overpaid doing what he lives for - going pro was everything he wanted, and it soothes an ugly green part of himself that knows he can provide for you. But you are too kind for that kind of life, you still try to pay for things despite how he always pre-pays for dinners or straight up takes your cards out of your wallet when you go out shopping. You work a normal job, something usual and consistent. You like it that way and he tries to respect that very much. 
He thinks he’s done an excellent job of it until you bring him to a corporate party and all that goes out the window. It starts normally enough, you show him around your office and it makes him smile that you have a framed jersey with his number on it, a poster of his team, and a framed photo of him holding you at a championship game - the first one of his pro career. It’s sweet, it fills him with such pride to know you carry him with you each day you clock into the office. He meets your co-workers - most are older than you as you are one of the newer hires and they all gawk over him with wide eyes and gasping lips.
You had told your office your boyfriend was a pro athlete but didn’t explicitly say your boyfriend and Kunigami Rensuke were the same. It didn’t bother him in retrospect, you’ve always been the quieter one between the two of you - all attempts for privacy came from you, and you never wanted Kunigmai to feel as if you were with him for fame or money.
You love Kunigami Rensuke with all your soul and it is there in the most subtle of ways that exist only for the two of you to bear witness to. The polaroid of your blacked-out silhouettes from New years on the back of your phone case and the locket around his neck that holds the photos of your engagement shoot that he kisses before he’s out on the pitch. The way you have a homemade book filled with recipes for when he goes on his diet to help him bulk up or slim down when the soccer season rolls around. The way he has a list of which chocolate and jam spread brands you like for when you have your cravings. 
These things, these actions are eternal in an otherwise epithermal world and Kunigami knows damn well that he does not stand for on the international stage to play for something like his country’s pride. He plays for you and for you alone, for the beading of tears that shine in your eyes whenever he succeeds - his pride is yours and his joy is yours too. And for the most part, you two have had your relatively peaceful love lives, your e  waits for the two of you in the summer of next year and it’s blissful in a way that he doesn’t have the words to describe. Maybe that’s why you always nagged him to pay attention in his Classics class, then he would have the words to describe all that he feels for you the way you always know what to say to him whenever he needs it.
And he would have all the words to say what he feels when he hears what your co-worker, a relatively handsome man your age, calls you - “Hey work-wife”. Kunigmai already does not like him, he feels the way you tense from where your arm is tucked into his elbow - he was raised to be a gentleman by a strict mother and an even stricter older sister who has been handed too many douchey men so she made sure to raise him right (He hears her bragging to you about his manners too many times to count when he brings you over for family dinners). He can see why you tense up because the minute you're on your own - you wanted to get something to drink and when he offered to get it instead, you gave him that pout that speaks to your want to do things on your own. It never fails to be cute to him so he laughs softly and lets you go with a nod of his head and a final squeeze of your hand. Any joy evaporates and tastes of ash when he sees your younger co-worker come up to you and place his arm around your shoulders - tugging you close, too close in his opinion which sours further when he sees how you tense under his touch.
He knows you, and he knows how much you hate anyone’s touch other than his own.
Kunigami is on his feet faster than ever and your work best friend sputters after him as their polite but meaningless conversation goes to dust as he leaves with a barely-there excuse. He is at your side faster than you can blink, long legs and speed training make it so. His hand is warm and familiar - firm as he loops it around your waist, tugging you until you are flushed to him, free from your co-worker’s touch.
“Wow, easy tiger - is this the infamous famous boyfriend? I thought you were fibbin’ about him bein’ a pro soccer player?” The man grins at you in a way that was supposed to be charming but looks more like a grimace and his accent reminds Kunigami of Karasu so he concludes he is from Osaka. Auburn eyes light into a blaze as he tilts his head, sizing up his prey and he is glad when he sees the other swallow thickly at the sight of him. Kunigami has always been imposing - with each centimeter he grows and each kg he gains it only adds to how easily he can intimidate the people around him.
So he delights when he sees how the other man’s confidence withers and dies, turning to bone and ash before his very eyes - it worsens when Kunigami can see the familiar glint of jealousy that burns like acid when Kunigami tightens his hold on your waist; drawing you closer to his side until he feels your warmth through your clothes. Kunigami’s ego only soars on two occasions when he scores and when he has you in his arms in front of someone who so badly wants what is so rightfully his.
Kunigami doesn’t say anything - he doesn’t have to, the other man knows the battle is lost. He never had a chance to begin with, not when your man is Kunigami Rensuke himself. You let him take you to the lobby of the building, far from the party and there is a look of distress on your face that Kunigami can’t stand - he has half the mind to go back to the party and punch your shitty coworker himself. With a quick sweep around the lobby, he snorts when his gaze lands on the opened coat closet that would be the perfect place to take this to where he wants. Still leading the way he pushes you inside it, locking the door behind him and he finds that it isn’t as cramped as he thought. It still lets him push himself up against your smaller form - crowding you against the wall in a way that he knows makes you tongue-tied.
“Are you mad at me?” You ask and he says a quick no because he’s not - jealous and possessiveness dance along his spine but that can wait until you are comforted.
“Does he always talk to you like that - touches you like that? When you don’t want to be?” He asks and he tilts his head so you can see a single searing auburn eye among the shadow of how his hair falls. You nod, bringing a hand to your face, and rub at your temples in exhaustion.
“Y-yeah he does - I thought it would go away if I started talking about you but when that didn’t work I started bringing some of your merchandise from home to here, you know to show that I’m dedicated to you and stuff.” You pause to take a shuddering breath as you remember how the man’s touch felt on your skin - stinging like acid rain and rancid like sulfur, you only wanted Kunigami to be able to touch you like that. He hums, leaning back against the door so that he can hear it creak a little under his weight.
“I thought - I already wanted to bring you along but I thought if you came he’d finally give up his stupid delusion of always flirting with me, calling me stupid things like his work wife and stuff.” You finish and your shoulders are by your ears like they do when you are about to cry so he draws near, wrapping a bulky arm around your tense shoulders. You are brought in close to where you can almost taste the notes of his cologne and all it does is make you nuzzle into his skin in the way you know tickles him. He chuckles into your ear and his hand that rubs at your shoulders relaxes you into his body.
“Guys like that are assholes, they don’t give up - thought you would have known that from being around me all the time and the team,” Kunigami mutters, throwing a tease in there to make you laugh. It’s to his relief that it does and you snort into the color of his shirt, your voice muffled against his strong body.
“You aren’t an asshole,” you defend him and he huffs amusedly at your claim.
“The others are - and I’m not an asshole to you.” He remarks pulling away just to look at you with a barely there smile that was a little too proud of what he is saying. You look at him with a stern expression, though there is some amusement in your eyes and he’s glad he still can cheer you up.
“Your teammates aren’t that bad, and neither are you.” Kunigami smiles slightly and butts his head with you like the way dogs do when they want your attention and your affection.
“That’s why guys like that always think they’ve got a chance with you - always so sweet even to shitty losers who don’t deserve it.”  You pull away to look up at him, raising a finger to point in his face with something stubborn in your eyes.
“You better not be put in that category of a shitty loser Kunigami Rensuke, you hear me?” You warn, voice firm and he smiles a little wider - the sort of self-satisfied and dripping in ego that he most reserves for being out on the field but he gives it to you too sometimes. 
“Don’t worry sweetheart. I got you, there's no way I’m a shitty loser when I get to take you home every night.” His smug reply and the rolling of your eyes are cut off by the heated kiss he presses to your lips. It tastes of him - the snowy peaks of his hometown and the fire of his veins you can only latch onto the front of his shirt when you feel his tongue slip into your gasping mouth. It feels right, it feels true Kunigami is the only man who is allowed to touch you, to taste you and that is how it must be. His hands don’t keep to themselves, they slip under the skirt of your dress. A simple long-sleeved dress but it makes him hungry all the same, gluttony and greed paint his hands as you feel them come up to the curve of your ass - his fingers follow the lace trail of your panties, stockings, and garters with the same worshiping haze of a devoted acolyte.
Devotion can be tasted and love can be felt as your hands do not remain idle, they are in his hair and cradling his jaw. When he pulls away Kunigami hates that he can’t sustain himself on you alone but your lipstick is on his lips and your perfume coils around him like a fog and he thinks that’s good enough for now. You’re panting, his hands haven’t stopped just because the kiss has and you whine something startled when you feel his fingers trace the gusset of your panties with something wicked in his autumn eyes.
“I thought you said you weren’t mad -”
“I’m not,” He says with certainty but there’s evil in the way he half smiles at you, “just competitive.”
 What you wish to say never comes as you gasp when you feel the skirt of your dress being rucked up and the too-cool air of your office dancing around your heated lower half. The garters squeeze into the plush of your skin and Kunigami can’t stop the groan that tugs from his chest even if he wants to. Rough fingers pull back the soft satin material of your panties, and your cunt weaves its silk webs of wanting that follow the damp fabric until they snap and his fingers are tracing the petals of your pussy with newfound hunger. The curls of your pelvis part and cling to your slick, Kunigami fights the urge to drop to his knees to lick you clean but this isn’t the place for that - the closet is too narrow and the walls too thin, they can barely conceal what it is he is doing to you now. Strong fingers find your puffy clit and you hide your whine into his beck, your form crumpling and shaking under the sudden but all-encompassing pleasure that laps at your ankles up to your neck. 
“You’re mine, yeah? Doesn’t matter what any shithead calls you - you’re mine.” His words are like magma that course through the earth and you can only nod and whine and nod some more with each declaration he murmurs into your ear as you lose more of your sanity in the flow and ebb of having your cunt played with. Kunigami is nothing but demanding and now that he’s shed his polite outer layer all he is left with is the beast within. He ensures to ensnare you with his claws as if there is anywhere else you would rather be.
 You feel his hair tickle your temples as his head turns - Kunigami twisting his head until his mouth is level with your neck - tender is the flesh and ripe for his white teeth to dig into the skin. You gasp, a third finger has slipped it along with the burning sting of his teeth digging into your neck you can’t help but sigh his name in utter adoration - “Rensuke!”
The fingers inside you curl and Kunigami sucks at your neck, the flesh darkening and flushing the same color as the lust shared between the two of you. Your chest aches, from your heart to the peaks of your nipples that grow tight still confide in your dress because this isn’t enough despite the burning twine of pleasure in your stomach.
You want for more - his tongue, his cock, and then his fingers again, it all feels so good; this does not feel like enough. Your words are clipped and breath but they reach him, your prayers for your lover of a god.
“Please - please Rensuke! I want more, please give me more!” You whisper to him, nerves fried and everything feels like a blur except for how your thighs tremble as the pleasure becomes more and more unbearable. His fingers, thick and long and so very cruel, keep their pace, curl inside of you the final time and you cum with his tongue in your mouth. It feels dirty and indecent - it could be because the setting of where your cunt was finger fucked into a haze is finally setting in but you can’t even put two in two together until you feel Kunigami’s hard-on pressed up against you. Your stockings feel soaked through from sweat and slick, your heels make you feel unstable and you can only blink up at him barely as he pressed his mouth to your ear again.
“You’re gonna go out there - say your goodbyes like the sweet thing you are with your cute cunt fucked by my fingers and with my marks on your skin. Get your things, take longer than ten and I won’t let you come all night long.”  A promise whispered, made with the following action of his hands following the curve of your ass as Kunigami smoothes down your pretty dress to give some decency after the indecent things both said and done in this small space. The prospect of punishment weighs heavy on the tongue but a part of him is delighted in your choppy nod and starry eyes. He opens the door but not without pressing a final kiss to your bitten lips and with a final reach of his hand to sweep your hair to the side - where the mark of his teeth screams all the possession he carries in his heart.
As you walk out of the closet with unsteady steps he can’t help but let his palm meets your behind in a quick swipe - it makes him half grin, a cruel tease as you jump and rub at your ass. Kunigami holds up the car keys and tilts his head in the direction of the parking lot.
“I’ll be outside - don’t keep me waiting.”
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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◇ Now That I Found You, Stay ◇
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Chapter 11 of That's What You Get
Summary: A long, overdue conversation is finally had.
Warnings: smut, minors dni 18+, fingering, vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degradation, dirty talk, pet names, creampie, breeding kink, marking etc. Spoilers for Season 7 of Criminal Minds, episodes "Hit" and "Run."
A/N: And next week is the end of our journey! If anyone is interested, I can answer any questions you have about this series and its ending/ what I'm planning for after this, etc. in my inbox this weekend! I'm really thankful for everyone's support so far! 11 down, 1 to go!
As always, you can find my masterlist here, and my requests are currently open!! <3
You weren't expecting him to be so very prompt, but after hearing the panic in his voice on the phone call, you really shouldn't have expected any less. 
Taking in his appearance, you were almost sorry that you'd caused such an upset. His eyes were darker than usual, a look of no sleep crossing his features, but he still stood hypervigilant in the doorway. Almost as if he were scanning you for injuries or harm, he drank you in. 
"You're wearing it?" The words fell from his mouth before either of you could say hello. The second his eyes locked onto the ring on your hand, it was suddenly the only thing he could think of. 
You could see him biting back further questions as he waited for you to invite him in. 
"I'm wearing it. That's okay, isn't it?" You asked, glancing up into his panicked face as he tried to make sense of the situation. 
"Yeah, it's… it's okay, yeah. Why… why are you wearing it?" He asked hesitantly, blinking a lot as he waited for your answer. You pulled the door further open and waved him in with your arm. He stepped into the immediate space but didn't move in further, as if he were scared to go in too far for fear he'd be led straight back out again. 
"Listen, Y/N, I know I should've told you, and I'm so sorry, and-"
"I know." 
"No, you don't. You didn't remember anything when we woke up, and I was so scared that I'd forced you into it, that you were going to regret everything, and-"
"Spencer," you grabbed his attention, flattening your hand on his chest as you forced him to focus on your words. "I know." His rambling ceased as he tried to sus out your meaning, obviously coming up blank of the furrow in his brow was anything to go by. 
"Penelope was here. Thank you for that, by the way. Penelope was here, and she showed me this video she took." Your hand lazily stroked over his chest, settling into place over his heart, where you could feel the organ desperately thumping, trying to make its way to you. 
"I heard that being presented with photographic evidence of an event can spark memories of it. I guess that worked for me." You sighed and took a step towards him. 
"I know how much you love me because you told me." 
Since watching Spencer's Chapel confession, glimpses of the night had been falling into place, puzzling out the entire story. 
You remembered being in the casino with him. He'd taught you some special tricks for the card games, and you'd laughed in delight as you'd raked in the cash. You hadn't done as well as him, but you knew you never would. 
You remembered how you'd left hand in hand, him pulling you out of the casino, away from an angry security guard, who obviously had questions about his sudden luck. He'd pulled you into am alleyway, and you'd stood there, laughing, chests heaving as you grew closer, finally wrapping around each other in joy, your lips meeting as if it were something they always were meant to do. 
He had flushed beautifully as he'd pulled away, so concerned that he was taking advantage of you. He whispered his love to you into the small space between your skin, under the influence of alcohol or cupid or something that made him brave for that second.
You remembered the way he'd tried to take the words back, and you remembered just as vividly how you'd refused to let him, smile growing to the point where your cheeks had felt tired. 
He'd kept talking, though, and you remembered every word he said to you. 
"You know I have this recurring dream," he had started. "I used to have bad nightmares, but now it's a dream. I wake up in bed, and you're there. We eat together, we get ready together. We go to work together. We are together. Is it weird I have dreams about being married to you?" His eyes had flashed with panic for a second before you'd pulled him down for a kiss. 
"Okay." Your voice barely a whisper, your nose pressed against his.
"Okay, what?"
"Okay, I'll marry you. It seems like a lovely dream." And you had, and it was. 
You focused on him in the present again, looking up into his eyes as you connected your other hand with his. 
"Spencer, it was a lovely dream." His eyes soften as he breathes a sigh of relief. 
You pull back for a second, leading him out of the doorway, before turning on him. Plucking the ring from your finger, you drop it into his palm, closing his hand around it. 
"Oh. I understand, I… I get it, if you don't want this-" 
"Spencer, what I want is a question." You sink to the floor, pulling him down with you until both of you are on your knees. 
"Now that we're both sober, I want the question. I distinctly remember you not exactly asking last time." It took him a few seconds to understand, and you squirmed as you waited for him to finally give you what you needed.
"Oh." You laughed at his dumb-struck expression, still acting obviously for him to ask you to marry him. 
"Oh, right, okay. I'm sorry, I thought I'd be better at this." He fumbled the ring in his hand for a second before offering it out to you, clutched awkwardly in both of his hands. 
"Y/N, will you marry me?" The anticipation bubbling up in you spilt over as you threw your arms around him, tackling him to the floor as you shouted yes as many times as your breathless lungs would allow you. 
The ring is forgotten underneath the two of you somewhere as his lips attach themselves to yours, stealing even more of your oxygen while giving you life. His hands pulled you in by your waist until you were a mess of limbs on the floor, wrapped around one another. 
He pushed your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear when you finally broke apart, drinking in as much air as you could. 
"Great, because I don't think I could go back to the nightmares." 
"And I don't think the title divorcée suits me very well, Spencer. This is mutually beneficial." He laughs as his lips draw yours in again, using his body weight to flip your positions, quickly but carefully lowering you to the ground, kissing every inch of your face as you curiously roll your hips up into his. 
When you try to come up for air again  he doesn't let you, pushing your shoulders down as he sucks love bites into your collarbone. 
"Spencer, how…How should we tell everyone? It's going to be a shock, right?" You tried to keep your voice steady  but even you couldn't control the reactions you were having to this man's touch.
"I have some ideas," You feel him smile into your skin as his head slopes lower and lower. The top of your dress was low enough that his head could graze the tops of your breasts without having to disturb much, and you weren't sure if you wanted an answer to your question or his undivided attention more. 
"Care to enlighten me?" You asked as he planted a final kiss to your chest before pulling up and off you slightly. 
Picking up your hand, he delicately brought the inside of your wrist to his mouth, kissing it tenderly. 
"You could walk into work with this on your hand," he said, pushing the ring back onto your finger. The cool metal and his warm touch sent shivers down your spine as you dedicatedly watched him make his way across your body. 
Back at your neck, he spoke again, softly. "I could mark you up, nice and good, until everyone knows what an obedient little wife you are." His tongue flicks over a particularly sensitive spot, and you moan as you squeal into the touch. He spends some time there, making companions for his earlier love bites. 
Letting his hands trace lower, he finally ghosts a finger across your clothed pussy. With just a few mere touches, you're putty in his hand, whimpering his name helplessly, your arms wrapped about his neck. 
"We could do it that way, too. Those motel room walls are always pretty thin. I'm sure one scream of my name and the entire team would know." Your hips buck up violently into his own  and you're surprised at your sudden lack of self-control. 
You moaned for him, waiting for him to give up his teasing and give you what you really wanted. 
His hands remained ghostly, though, and you almost cursed in frustration. Pulling your dress up, he was swift and agile, hands falling to your bare hips once he'd made sure you were displayed to him. You moaned as you tried to buck your hips up into his hands again, but he caught you before you could. 
Instead of meeting you where you wanted, be pushed your dress even higher, head moving lower to begin pressing kisses over your stomach and lower. 
"Or I could knock you up  and we can for you to introduce the baby with my last name. Really let everyone know just what a horn little slut you are for me." you contemplate grabbing a fistful of his fair, but his lips are back on yours in a flash, and you gasp as you feel him finally push your panties to the side and let his fingers dive inside of you. 
"Or I could give you a real wedding. Claim you right there in front of everyone. 
"I could take thee, to be my wedded wife," his hands slipped deeper into you still as you moaned underneath him. 
"To have and to hold," his other hand dropped to rub your clit as he kept his eyes locked with your own, mouth wide with arousal, trying desperately to prologue this pleasure and not come undone so instantly on his hands. 
"From this day forward, for better or worse," your mind goes blank, filling with his voice and only his voice. 
"For richer, for poorer," he pulls his fingers away for a second, and you moan in protest. 
"In sickness and in health," he sits you up in his lap, ridding you of your remaining clothing as he drinks in the view of your entire body. 
"To love and to cherish," he kisses you again, so soft and passionate that you are almost surprised when his dick slips into you from under you. 
"Till death do us part." He rises to his knees, holding you up in his arms as he begins thrusting into you, hard and fast. 
With his attention so wholly on you and your pleasure, you come undone in a matter of moments, Spencer still finding his rhythm as you stutter around him. 
"Good girl, you're doing so good for me, milking my cock like that." He doesn't slow down as you give yourself over to him, just stroking your hair as you readjust to all the touches you're receiving. You claw your hands into his back as you start getting over stimulated, trying desperately to retain hold of your sanity. 
He's pounding into you too desperately to sustain your position, quickly pressing your back into the floor once again, spreading you once more, and continuing his ministrations. 
Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, desperately holding on for fear that letting go would mean losing him again. You feel your nails break the skin of his back as you scratch, claw, grip.
"How about we do all of that?" He grunts in your ear. "I'll give you whatever wedding you want  I'll give you the world. If you let me breed you like a nice little whore." You moan his name in response, your entire body growing rigid again as his words build another climax inside your stomach. 
"Let me mark you and show off who you belong to." You remember the feeling of his cum shooting into you, and suddenly you find it is everything you've ever wanted.
"Fuck, Spencer I'll do anything, please just don't stop." 
His mouth finds yours again as his hand finds its way to your clit again, and suddenly your hips are jerking up and down his cock as you cum. 
He isn't far behind you, not bothering to pause his movements at all as he spills his seed inside of you, pushing it in and letting it leak out of you, your collective fluids pooling under your ass as he gently calms his movements.
Holding himself like that on top of you, your breaths sync, and even as you're both gasping for air, looking into each others eyes is enough to spark more laughter. You're all tenderness and love, and and filled with him. 
He doesn't bother to pull out, simply making sure your legs are tight around his waist and your arms are tight around his neck as he hauls himself to his feet, warming his cock inside you as he hauls you to the bedroom. 
Finally pulling away, he lays you gently on the bed, taking notice of where the carpet has bitten into your back. He slips his cock out of you and retreats to the bathroom, no doubt seeking out cleaning materials. 
When he rejoins you on the bed, he rubs your cunt lazily until you're cleaned up, but you grab his hand and urge him to keep going, before pulling him back over you. 
The remainder of the night is restless as you make vows back and forth with every clash of your bodies, mouths hot with the need to prove your love for one another. 
You finally get to wake up in his arms the next morning. He hasn't left, and you certainly didn't kick him out. You watch him peacefully for as long as you can before he stirs, and the two of you have to ready yourself for a day's work.
"We should tell everyone as soon as possible, right?" You say as you both climb out of the shower. Sharing it saves time, he'd said, but it hadn't been quite as efficient as he'd made it out to be. 
Towelling off his hair, he replied. "Honestly, most of them already know." 
"Wait… the witnesses!" You gasp as you remember what it is that you still didn't quite remember. "I know Penelope is one of them. Who was the other?" You demanded, whirling around on him as you brushed your teeth. 
If you take everyone you'd talked to so far at face value, that left only three options. 
"We're going to work soon, right? Maybe you could figure it out. Profile your second witness, perhaps." You scowled at him and threw a towel half heartedly, resisting the urge to stomp childishly when his phone begins to ring. 
"Hotch," he answers, growing serious once more. "Yeah, we're awake, I…. Where? Okay, be there soon." He hangs up quickly and turns back to you. 
"Will's partner was just killed as they responded to a call about a bank robbery. They want us to consult apparently, it's still in prog-" His hurried words are cut off by the even more hurried shrill of your phone. 
"Hotch, yeah, I know, I'm… I'm with Spencer." 
Hotch's voice is silent on the other end of the line for a second before his familiar stern tone sounds into your ear. 
"We'll talk about that after we get everything settled for now, just get yourselves into the office." 
You, too, hang up, and, with your husband, you make your way to the crime scene. 
--X--
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sommerbueckers · 5 days
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My Brother's Best Friend Pt4
I immediately disregarded my homework at the sound of my phone ringing. I had been expecting a call from Paige ever since her game against Xavier went off, Uconn coming out with an unsurprising win.
Her smug face appeared on the screen, she had changed into her pajamas and the camera was propped up on what I assumed to be a desk or table.
"Summer Collymor."
"Paige Bueckers."
"Did you watch the game?" she asked.
"Nope," I said, "tv was unplugged as promised."
She leaned back in her chair and laughed, shaking her head. "Whatever you say."
I laughed as well, nervously toying around with the pen I had previously tossed aside with my notebook. This was the first time ever that Paige and I had facetimed, and despite our track record of never having a dry conversation, I couldn't help but worry that I'd run out of things to talk about.
"So..." she said with a smile.
"So...?" I repeated.
"How was your day?" she asked softly.
"Hmm it was okay. Practice was really great though, we got a few new girls who tried out for the second season and they're really good. I'm hoping they'll tryout again for the comp squad in the spring."
"That's good. You're pacing yourself right?"
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"With putting the routines together and studying for midterms and all, I just want to make sure you aren't stressing yourself out" she shrugged shyly.
"Aww, are you worried about me?" I smiled.
"Definitely not, who am I gonna make fun of if you're all busy and stressed?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Girl bye, look in the mirror and you'll find all the jokes you need" I laughed.
"Ohh you thought that was good huh? You weren't saying all that when I was all over you the other day" she replied cockily, crossing her arms and staring at the camera.
"So you admit that you were all over me?"
"We were all over each other."
"Mhm. If I remember correctly, it was you who made the first move," I reminded her, "so shut all that shit up."
She playfully rolled her eyes and grabbed the phone, moving to lay down on her bed. A moment of silence washed over us as I watched her watch me, both of our smiles slowly growing at the eye contact. I didn't want to be the first to back down but I could feel the tension becoming too much for me to bear. I pretended to read over a paragraph in my chem textbook, not wanting her to notice the blush that had crept onto my face. It'd go straight to her head.
"What're you wearing?" her voice was low and suggestive through the phone, but her face displayed an expression of innocence.
"A t-shirt" I said, tilting the camera up as I displayed my 2019 cheer championship shirt.
She smirked, "What else?"
"Just my underwear" I said innocently.
"Oh yeah?" she raised her eyebrows. When I nodded my head she continued, "Can I see?"
I thought about it for a moment, lifting up to make sure my door was closed before making my decision. I pulled my covers down and raised the camera, showing off the bright pink thong that I had on.
"Mm mm mm!" Paige exclaimed dramatically, shaking her head with her fist to her mouth.
"Oh God shut up!" I laughed, putting the camera back down.
"What? You look good" she complimented simply.
"Thanks, wish you were here to prove it though" I said lowly.
I didn't know where my sudden boldness came from, maybe it was because I knew Paige wasn't actually here and I had no reason to be nervous. Anything I said or did right now would surely be forgotten by the time she returned for Christmas break.
"Just touch yourself and pretend its me" she laughed, but her eyes carefully scanned my face for my reaction.
"You would say something like that" I shook my head.
"Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures" she defended with her hand up. She went quiet for a moment when I didn't say anything. "Are you doing it?" she asked with high eyebrows, surprise laced in her voice.
"No! You're so dirty," I laughed, "I was getting comfortable."
"Mhm" she nodded.
"...Did you really want me to?"
She shrugged her shoulders, not looking at the phone. She definitely wanted me to. I bit my lip as I considered it. Paige was staring at me quizzically through the phone with one of her eyebrows cocked. I was getting turned on at the thought of pleasing myself, the thought of Paige's voice in my ear as she told me what to do and how to do it.
"Okay" I said, letting out a breath.
"Huh?"
"I'll do it" I elaborated.
"You don't have to, I was just-"
"I want to" I interuppted, rubbing my legs together under the covers.
"Really?"
"Yes, what do I do?" I asked.
"Wait, have you never done it before?" she sounded surprised.
"No...is that bad?"
Paige laughed and sat up a little straighter in her bed, "No Summer it's not bad it's just...surprising?" she corrected.
"Why is it surprising?"
"I don't know, I don't know."
"Alright whatever," I smiled, "you ready to do this?"
"Are you ready?" she redirected the question.
"Yeah go, go" I encouraged.
Paige laughed lowly, shaking her head. I moved to switch off my lamp and then laid back down. Paige had gotten comfortable as well; her head rested back against her pillow and her wrist was draped over her forehead.
"Okay now...run your hands up and down your thighs" she instructed after thinking for a moment. "Just your fingertips, slow" she added quickly.
I did as I was told, softly trailing my fingertips up to the edge of my underwear and then trailing them back down to my knees. It felt like electricity coursing through my fingers and leaving burn marks on my skin where they touched. I imagined it was Paige's hands, touching me with utmost delicacy as she always did.
"You like the way that feels?" she asked.
"Yeah" I answered.
I couldn't help but feel embarrassed at what I was doing. Not only was I masturbating for the first time in my life, but I was doing it on the phone with Paige. She couldn't see me, my phone sat next to my head facing toward the ceiling, close enough to where she could hear any noise that I made.
"I want you to move your hands up and down your cunt...be gentle" she said.
I bit back a laugh at the bluntness of her words and moved my fingers over my clothed clit. I was gentle like she told me to be, hardly pressing into myself at all.
"Do it three more times, and then I want you to stop."
I could feel myself growing wetter, hotter, needier. I bit down hard on my lip, preventing shaky breaths from leaving my mouth. My clit was becoming swollen, my entire pussy throbbing with the desire to be touched by me...by Paige.
She had fucked me so good before she left and I was aching for her to do it again. I wanted to feel every inch of her, her sweaty body on mine as we went round after round.
"Take two fingers and rub in that circular motion that I know you like" she said, I could practically see the smile on her face as she spoke. "Think about me when you do it, think about my fingers touching and teasing you."
I was even more turned on at the thought of Paige hovering over me, her long blonde hair falling like a curtain over me and tickling my face.
"How wet are you Summer?" she asked lowly.
I could feel my wetness grow and begin to drip out of me, if I told her how wet I was right now she'd never let me hear the end of it. A small whimper slipped past my lips, a cry of desperation.
"So wet" I breathed out.
"Yeah...good."
"Let's get those pretty panties out the way then" she smirked.
I pushed my hand down into my underwear all too quickly, dying to feel a more intense friction.
"You're rushing, I can hear you. Slow down or I'm gonna stop" she warned, her voice serious.
I stilled my motions.
"That's a good girl" she cooed condescendingly.
I was going to come quick, I knew I was. Paige talking me through this had to be the hottest thing ever. After a good game tonight I knew she deserved to unravel me the way she was, to listen to me crumble to pieces from instructions she was giving me.
"Slowly...put your fingers in. I want it so slow it almost hurts to do, you hear me?" she said.
"Mhm..."
"Words."
"Yes, yes I hear you" I whined.
I didn't waste anymore time inserting my ring and middle fingers, a dragged out gasp filling the room. I tightly pressed my lips together, that gasp turning into a moan.
All I could think about was Paige's proud face smirking down at me as her finger repeatedly pushed in and out of me, hitting all the right spots. I imagined her lips as they connected with mine, and then they moved to my jaw, and then to my neck, and down my chest...
"Go faster for me."
I ignored the slight stinging pain I felt as I pumped my fingers faster, it was enough for me to clench my jaw, but not enough to stop.
"Fuck you sound so good" Paige grunted, running her hands through her hair. "God I miss you."
I didn't bother to stop the smile that pulled at my lips, there were so many feelings running through me that I didn't know what to do with myself.
I ran my hand up my side to my chest, using it to squeeze my tits. I could hear my fingers going in and out, my juices running down my hand.
"Do you wanna come?" she asked.
"Uh huh" I moaned out desperately.
"I want to see you" Paige said, staring at the phone.
I didn't make a move for my phone, I could feel my walls tightening around my fingers. I would come any second.
"Summer," she called out, "be a good girl and let me see you."
I snatched the phone off the bed and held it in my hand, sitting up to lean on my elbow so she could see my face.
Her eyes were dark when they met mine through the screen, she licked her lips and smiled. "Come for me pretty baby"
That'll do it.
My mouth fell open as I released all over my fingers. It was almost as if my entire existence was slipping away, like everything I had accomplished was becoming undone. My body shook for a moment, and it felt like I was lying on clouds taking shots of Pink Whitney with Jesus Christ. Nothing was real.
If that's what giving myself an orgasm felt like, I was upset that I hadn't done it sooner. I laid there for a moment, coming back to my sense as I came down from my high.
"You okay over there?" Paige asked, her voice laced with amusement.
I laughed and brought the phone closer to my face, playfully narrowing my eyes. I got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom, setting up the phone to wash my hands.
"I've actually never done that before...like, talked someone through it like that I mean" Paige confessed.
"Aw, I took your phone sex virginity" I teased, rubbing the soap into my hands.
She snorted, "You're a cornball."
"Yes, yes, so I've been told."
IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO FKN RUSHED LIKEEEEE
but at least i tried yk
i haven't been in the smut mood ??????🫨🫨🫨🫨🫨
but like I told yall I need a little more practice, I just can't tell what's too much and what isn't enough WHERES THE LINE ????
but okay like any suggestions like...what do yall want to see next🙄?
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yuujisuku · 2 months
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୨୧ ecstasy, a yandere!sukuna x yandere!reader fanfic
inspired by this song
tags: fem reader, unhealthy obsession, mentions of death/murder, creepy behavior, reader has a degrading kink pff, oral sex, blow jobs, eating p$ssy, not too dark tbh, highschool au, cheerleader!reader, football player!sukuna
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You're glad the rest of the football players have already left the locker rooms.
You sneak into the boy's locker rooms, holding your phone close to your chest. You head straight to Sukuna's locker, which is filled with a bunch of crap. It has deodorant, some cologne, and his jersey. His duffle bag is laying on the floor, but there isn't anything you wanted to take from it for now. You want his jersey. Oh God, it smells just like him. Just a hint of musky cologne and sweat. 
You grab the jersey and take a quick sniff. You bury your nose in Sukuna's jersey, feeling your arousal pool in between your thighs. You want to touch yourself, but you don't want anyone walking in on you and catching you in this act. Your dad is the team Football captain, so it's not like you would get in trouble for what you're doing. But still, you don't want to take your chances.
You quickly grab the jersey and stuff it into a plastic bag and head out the back of the locker room without being seen. 
Your Highschool's football team is having a game tonight and you are already in your cheerleader gear. You're excited to see Sukuna who will be playing on the team. ‘Excited’ would be an understatement, however. You only really tried out for the cheerleader squad to be closer to Sukuna. You just wanted to see him up close, and watch him while he plays his games. Your team usually wins if he's playing the games these seasons. 
He definitely doesn't even know you exist, but who cares? You're fine learning about him, about his interests and who he is as a person from afar. 
You knew he didn't like sweets, and that he doesn't have a girlfriend because women usually try to control him instead of just doing what he asks. You know he doesn't have a soft spot for most people, except his brother Yuuji. 
His brother is actually pretty fun to talk to, and you usually get information from his brother because Yuuji looooves to ramble. Yuuji will talk your ear off about him and other unimportant things and you'd listen intently. Even though your heart is devoted to Sukuna, you still think Yuuji is such a cutie. 
You quickly meet up with your cheer team and that's where you spot Sukuna, speaking to one of his teammates down the hallway. He's laughing at something he said and you can't help but just stare at him. He has such pretty laugh lines. You don't usually see him smile or laugh much. You wish you could take a picture but you're afraid one of the cheer girls will call you out. 
Suddenly, Sukuna catches you staring. It's actually terrifying. He never notices you! At least, he didn't before. Oh God, should you smile? Or wave? Is he going to give you a look of disgust? Your heart is pounding and you don't know what to do. 
His gaze is piercing into yours. Those red, amber filled eyes are even more beautiful when they're glaring up at you. You have taken so many pictures of Sukuna that are saved into your camera roll but it doesn't compare to when he's actually straight up looking at you with those eyes. 
It makes you want him even more.
He's making his way towards you. What does he even want from you? You were nobody compared to him. You didn't have many friends, except Yuuji. You wouldn't be surprised if Yuuji told him about you because he's such a cute rambler, but why would he stop his conversation with one of his teammates for you?
He couldn't have found out about you stealing his jersey? That wasn't even 10 minutes ago. You already stuffed the plastic bag in the girl's locker room when you were finished, so how could he have known? Oh please, now you feel like you're going to explode from anxiety. 
“Oi, princess!” Sukuna grabs your arm in such a tight grip that it makes you squeak. Sukuna laughs at the noise as if it's funny to him that he's causing you pain.
Sukuna gets real close to your ear and whispers, “Come with me.” 
Your cheer teammates look confused as hell, and you don't blame them because you are too. You are definitely not going to make a scene, because it would ruin everything for you. Your dad would be so disappointed if he found out. You might not get in trouble, but your teammates would despise you for being such a creep. 
You're walking with Sukuna and you have no idea where the two of you are going, and he still has the tightest grip on your arm. If he was going to find a secluded place to kill you this would actually be worth it, because at least you would feel his strong hands wrap around your neck to snap it for a single moment. 
When the both of you are far away from your teammates, he shoves you into an empty classroom that you swear was already locked. The classroom is dark with all the lights turned off. Sukuna shoves you way too hard because your back hits one of the desks in the classroom. 
“Well, here we are.” Sukuna's voice is deep and his tone sounds menacing. You're really afraid, but you're also extremely turned on. Sukuna looks even more handsome when he's mad. He's trying to scare you right now, you know that. 
You feel your hands grip the desk behind you as he stalks closer to you. 
You don't feel any remorse for what you've done. You don't care if he wants to hurt you right now. You probably look crazy, staring up at this tall, 6’4 scary looking man. You stare at him as if he's your God, and he's the only thing that will lead you to redemption from all the fucked up things you've done. 
“Since you're such a desperate whore, I'll give you what you want.” Sukuna says as his chest is basically touching yours. You look up at him trying to look innocent with those doe eyes, as if you've done nothing wrong. 
“And what is it that I want?” You ask him. Sukuna just shoves your head down until you're on your knees, eye level to his crotch area. You know where this is going already, and you whimper a bit as he shoves his pants and his boxer briefs down to free his cock out. 
The head is thick and girthy, leaking with precum that your tongue is begging to taste. It would barely fit inside your tight, virgin pussy. You certainly have never taken a cock inside your mouth before, except those dildos you bought for practice. 
“C'mon, princess. We don't have all day now.” Sukuna chuckles at the fact you're already worshiping his cock with your eyes. He's right, though. His game is going to start in an hour or two. This is the best he's going to give you for now. 
You reach your hand up to grip his shaft with your fingers. You pump your hand up and down, feeling the way his cock is already twitching beneath your fingers, you swirl your thumb around the precum at the head of his cock, using that to wet his dick so you can pump it with more friction.
You lick a stripe on the head of his dick, tasting the oozing precum as it coats your tongue. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, as you harshly suck onto it. You move your head lower onto his shaft so you can take him inside your mouth. 
“That's it, that's my good girl.” Sukuna says through harsh breaths. You're so lucky to be able to please him like this. You've wanted to worship his cock for ages, but you never thought you would get the chance. However, if he let any other girl do this to him from now on, it wouldn't end well for the both of them. 
You bob your head up and down upon his cock, taking him all the way inside your mouth as you swirl your tongue upon his shaft and suck his thick, girthy cock while you feel his cum ooze down your chin. Sukuna wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes. 
You start to moan as you feel your wetness pooling down your already soaked panties. Your breasts feel heavy through your top as it sticks to your skin. The room feels hot like there was barely any air even though the school is definitely ventilated. 
“Open wide, princess. I'm going to fuck this pretty little whore mouth.” 
And you do as you're told. You relax your jaw so you can take Sukuna all the way inside. Sukuna wraps his hand around your ponytail and shoves his cock deep down your throat. Sukuna fucks your mouth as he cums. You feel his cock hitting the back of your throat, and you try your best not to choke. 
His thrusts are powerful, slamming his hips down your throat as if he has no remorse for how sore it's going to be later. 
You want to be good for him, relaxing your jaw so that he can fuck your mouth like the good little whore you are. You just want him to promise that he'd only use you like this. You don't want any other girl sucking his cock like this, as if they were made for this, to worship Sukuna on her knees. You were the only one who could do this for him. 
A few more seconds later, Sukuna finishes down your throat. You feel his cum release all the way down your throat. You swallow Sukuna's cum down like it's your last drink. 
He pulls his cock out and immediately tucks his cock back inside his boxer briefs, pulling his pants back up. You feel used, like a cheap little toy.
You love it. 
“How did you know I did all of this? That I took pictures of you and used your stuff? That I'm a psycho bitch who would do anything just to be close to you?” 
You still sit on the floor as you look up at Sukuna with teary eyes. 
You want to just put all of that inside. You kind of don't even want to know how he found out, just so he can let you off easy and not let the whole school know how obsessed you are with him.
Sukuna grins deviously, “I watch you, princess.” He says, but he doesn't give more of an explanation other than that. Your eyes widen as you take in what he means. 
“Oh!” 
You giggle like a little school girl that was given candy by her crush. 
“Get up, princess. I've waited a while for this, you know. I didn't realize you shared the same feelings I did until I saw you steal my jersey from the locker rooms today.” 
You couldn't even do as you were told, because Sukuna picks you up and shoves you on the desk until you lay your back on it. He spreads your thighs apart, and licks his lips when he sees how wet you are through your panties. 
He lifts your skirt up and pulls your panties to the side. Sukuna takes two fingers and plays with your pussy lips, feeling the wetness coat his fingers as you whimper for him, silently begging for him to take your pussy then and there. 
“Tch. Patience, princess. I'm going to suck this pretty little pussy here and then I'll fuck you after I win the game.” 
So confident, so sure of himself that he'll win. That's why you began to fall for Sukuna. You love how he never loses really. He's never lost a game since he joined your highschool's football team. You can see your father's proud smile whenever Sukuna wins a match between the other schools. 
Your father is going to love it when you bring Sukuna as your boyfriend home.
“Mm, you smell good.” Sukuna whispers hungrily, rubbing his nose against your soaked panties. 
Sukuna dives in to take your pussy with his tongue, ripping your panties apart in the process. You want to curse Sukuna out so bad for that because you were going to need that later for cheer, but a moan comes out instead. Thank god you have spare ones in the girl's locker room. 
Sukuna flicks his tongue against your clit, feeling the wetness coating his tongue. He licks stripes down your pussy until he plays with your twitching hole, thrusting his tongue inside your hole and tasting the juices that envelope his tongue. 
Your moans are picking up. You make the cutest little whimpers Sukuna has ever heard and so he rewards you by flicking his tongue against your clit which earns him a scream. Sukuna is glad he's in an empty classroom or else anyone would've heard you at this moment. 
He keeps flicking your clit and the sensation is almost too much for you. Your thighs are gripping the sides of his head. Sukuna takes his fingers and runs it up and down your hole, he shoves two fingers inside, stretching out your tight pussy that he'll need to get ready for his cock later. 
Sukuna pumps his fingers in an upward motion, thrusting his fingers inside your tight pussy while he stimulates your clit with his tongue. He feels your hands pull at his hair and your thighs grip his head. Your head is thrown back and you're begging Sukuna to let you come with your screams. 
“‘Kuna!! ‘Kuna!! ‘Kuna! Fuck! ‘M cumming!” 
You're chanting his name as you ride his face, he has to hold your thighs down so he can keep you in place. His tongue licks big strides down your pussy as you ride out your orgasm. 
He doesn't pull his head away until he feels you cum, licking the creaminess that's leaking from your pussy hole. 
He rubs your thighs to comfort you as you heave from experiencing your first orgasm from his mouth. You lay on the desk, eyes tightly shut. You were already tired and fucked out. 
“Ah, Ah. Stay with me, my love. We're not done yet. The game, remember?” Sukuna grins as he teases you playfully. You hit his cheek and whine that he's being mean. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. 
Sukuna wants to pull away but you hold his head from the back of his neck so you can feel the kiss for a few more seconds. You release yourself from the kiss and pepper his jaw with hot kisses until you reach the spot on his neck where his pulse is. You lick the spot there, and begin to suck. 
Sukuna groans as he feels your lips suck his neck, shuddering from how sensitive he's feeling right now. He knows exactly what you're doing: giving him a hickey so that the rest of the girls watching him will know he's taken from one of the cheerleading girls.
You release his neck with a pop, admiring how purplish the hickey is already starting to look. 
“There! Now everyone will know you're mine.” 
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When Sukuna and his team wins the game, you rush up to give him a kiss in front of everyone, he picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist as you kiss, showing you off as a trophy. 
You're extremely sore the next morning from how hard he fucked you last night. You're glad it's the school weekend.
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letsgetrowdy43 · 3 months
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Would you want it in like individual little thoughts for each brother or like a specific brother and like a larger blurb??
individual thought for each brother please🙏🙏
Request: could you write a fic/blurb for the hughes brothers and how they would take care of their gf who’s overstimulated and has gone non-verbal (and i don’t think you would take this the wrong way but some people have when i haven’t specified) (not in the sexy way)
I tried to be as general as possible, just cause I don't want to be insensitive to anyones triggers or to any personal experiences!!
Quinn—
Being captain means that Quinn has to attend these bigger events and be as present as he possibly can be for them. But if and when his girlfriend needs his help, his captain duties get pushed to the side until he knows she is safe and okay. They attend an event together and it gets a little busier than she expected she tries to stick it out, but by the sixth random person that had come up to ask her questions about Quinn and the charities that the two of them had been working with during this season, she is just completely out of her comfort zone and so overwhelmed Quinn noticed right away from her body language, watching her whole body tense up, and by the way her face looked blank with wide eyes as she tried to find the nearest exit. He's immediately trailing behind her and into the hallway of the banquet hall, finding her curled up in a ball, her pretty dress pooled around her as she hid her face in her hands. “Hey hey,” he mumbled, trying to get her to stop panicking, pulling her hands away from her face to make her look at him, “let's try those breathing exercises that you taught me” She's struggling to comprehend, but he is persistent and gets her to a state of calm in a few minutes. Her head rests against his shoulder as he creates a game plan in his head to get their things and get them out to the car without a soul noticing, and without being bombarded by people wanting to chat with him. At the end of the day, she is his number one priority, his leadership means a lot but she means a lot more to him than some tabloids that paint him out to be the saving grace of the canucks.
Jack—
Jack is known for being a carefree soul, he's go with the flow and has a bubbly or joking demeanour. But the second she needs him, all of his attention goes straight to her. The bar they were at had strobe lights, she had never experienced something like this, but the flashing, mixed with the music and loud chatter had her head spinning. She sat awkwardly in the corner of the bar, nursing a tall glass of ice water that she had managed to order herself before she completely shut down. So now she just sitting in silence in some dimly lit booth in the back, twiddling her thumbs in her lap as she focused on her breathing. Jack searched the crowd for her the second he came to realize that she was no longer by his side, his conversation with Dylan Larkin going a bit longer than intended which led to him becoming lost in their conversations about his upcoming wedding. His eyes found her from across the room, and within a second he was maneuvering his way around the room to get to her. "Oh baby," he said as she looked at him tiredly, slowly blinking at him which let him know just where her energy level was at, "I'll call Luke to come and get us now," he said sitting down next to her, careful not to touch her or move her around too much and make her feel even worse. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable while we wait?" with a slight shake of her head Jack watched as she mentally counted the seconds in between her breaths, "would some fresh air maybe help, get you away from the noise?" she looked at him again and nodded, her lips turning up into a smile as she reached out to squeeze his hand. A little notion to tell him. that she was okay when she could verbally express it.
Luke—
Luke's girlfriend hated parties, but this was the boys' last big college party before they headed to Tampa for the Frozen Four, and then Luke to Jersey, so she wanted to be there in support of him, and as a nice send-off. But it was a lot, a lot of people, a lot of music, and the awful smell of alcohol. An episode hadn't happened in a while once she realized that it was the parties and the environment that were causing them, but she wanted to surprise Luke and be there for his final hurrah. But the second she stepped in she was quickly anxious, she hadn't left her boyfriend's side the entire night, her hands gripping him to make sure not to lose him in the chair that was the hockey house. She squeezed his side the second someone accidentally bumped into her, her face growing red as she silently let tears roll down her cheeks, too out of it to wipe them off. He felt her touch and saw the look on her face, he quickly whisked her away and brought her into an empty bathroom on the second floor of the house. He felt a little panicked as he watched her just blankly stare at her feet, heavy breathing before he remembered the thing about pressure and relieving her nervous system of any stressors that his mental coach taught him about a few months before. "I'm gonna try something okay?" he mumbled as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest and squeezing her as tight as he could. they stood like that for a few minutes, his arms applying continuous pressure to her as her breaths steadied. "feel better?" she nodded slowly as her hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt, feeling the soft material between her fingertips before tapping him to let him know that she was okay. he pulled away, holding her a good length away to examine her state, her eyes tired as she wiped away the tear streaks that had remained on her face, "let's go lay down in my room, let you decompress before bed," he said brushing the hair from her face and away from her neck as she weakly smiled and nodded at him
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hamsterclaw · 1 year
Note
Aaaaah my chest 😩😩😩🤧 ex husband joon sounds so 😩😩😩ughhhhhhi want them to work out like TALK IT OUT GUYS!!!!
You know, I read this and immediately thought what this Namjoon would be like trying to talk it out.
Pairing: Namjoon x f!reader
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: Sex, swearing, Namjoon's an asshole
Your husband, Kim Namjoon, is generally punctual, but he’s unfailingly, always late to your appointments with your marriage counsellor.
It’s a power play, he wants to show you that you can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, even if it’s your marriage at stake.
Your husband, Kim Namjoon, is unfailingly, always an asshole.
It was hot when you were in college together, when he’d stroll in, thick thighs stretching out grey sweatpants, sit next to you and copy over your shoulder in politics class.
It was hot on your wedding day, when he got bored at the wedding dinner and dragged you into an alcove to shoot his cum down your throat whilst telling you to ‘swallow it down like a good girl, Mrs Kim.’
Honestly, it’s even sometimes hot now, when you’re pissed off at him for being late and he saunters in, manspreads on the couch and nudges your thigh none too subtly when your counsellor Mrs Lee says something he doesn’t agree with.
Namjoon embraces his feral side with a don’t give a fuck attitude you can’t help but admire even as you want to throttle him.
You’ve tried to throttle him a few times but he just laughs and pins your hands over your head and fucks the anger out of you.
You’re in the middle of telling Mrs Lee about your week when Namjoon enters the room. He apologises for being late, the good Korean boy in him coming to the fore just in time to charm her and prevent her from yellow carding him.
If this were a game of football, and you a referee, your husband would be banned for the season for his unsportsmanlike behaviour.
You try your best to hide your sour expression as he presents Mrs Lee with a small succulent for being so accommmodating with her time.
Namjoon excuses himself to make a telephone call, even though he’s just arrived at this counselling session, and you’re sorely tempted to stab him with Mrs Lee’s silver pen.
Your phone vibrates in your bag, and you’re reaching for it when Namjoon returns.
He sits next to you quietly, and to your surprise, the next 45 minutes are spent talking through the difference in the way you and he communicate with each other. He doesn’t so much as roll his eyes once.
As Mrs Lee sums up, you catch him eyeing your thigh where your skirt has ridden up slightly.
Ah, there he is, your familiar asshole. Hidden but never really gone.
Namjoon follows you out of Mrs Lee’s plush, soothingly neutral office, and into the car park.
‘Can you give me a ride?’ he asks.
‘To where?’
‘I have a date. It’s at the French bistro downtown.’
‘We’re still married, Namjoon, why are you going on a date?’
‘Keeping my options open?’ he suggests. The asshole has the audacity to smirk at you.
‘Nah. You can walk,’ you snap.
‘It’s not a date,’ he says, quickly. ‘I’m meeting Yoongi.’
You stare him down.
Finally you say, ‘OK. I’ll drop you off at the subway.’
You unlock the car, get in, and wait for Namjoon to fold his long frame into the passenger seat.
He gets in, pointedly adjusts the seat to accommodate his long legs, reclines the back.
‘C’mere,’ he says, voice low, husky.
He spreads his legs a little, lets the bulge in his crotch show against the thin material of his pants.
Your husband’s at least half-hard, and you’re angry with yourself for even contemplating helping him out.
Shit.
You’ve spent too much time thinking about it.
You can hear the smirk in his voice even without looking at him.
Namjoon says, ‘Look straight ahead, ok?’
His warm hand slips over your bare thigh, under your skirt.
‘I can see your bra,’ he tells you, conversational. ‘It’s that lacy one isn't it? Makes me want to bust a nut just looking at it.’
His other hand skims the front of your chest, tweaks your nipple.
You bite down on your lower lip as he caresses you over the thin material of your blouse.
‘If we weren’t here I’d be sucking on your tits now,’ he continues. ‘Getting your nipples nice and hard for me.’
He laughs softly. ‘Look at yourself, baby.’
Despite your better judgement, you drop your gaze to where your nipple is pressing against his thumb, peaked and so sensitive you could scream.
Namjoon flicks his thumb over your nipples, back and forth, only reluctantly dropping his hand when someone walks past on the way to their car.
Thank fuck you have an SUV.
Namjoon slides his hand under your skirt, fingers reaching straight for your core.
You can both hear how wet you are.
‘Fuck,’ Namjoon swears. His hand ghosts over his crotch, you can see the outline of his hardness so clearly now you know he’s almost fully erect.
You reach out to touch him, and he stops you.
‘Let me feel you first, ok?’
Namjoon pushes your legs apart, strokes his long fingers over you.
‘Look at this messy cunt,’ he grunts. He slips a finger into you, and you whimper at the invasion.
‘Joon!’
‘Use me,’ he murmurs. He slips another finger inside you, and the stretch is so good you’re moaning.
He rocks his thumb over your clit, leans over to mouth at your neck.
His tongue laps over your skin.
‘Wanna taste you,’ he groans.
His forearm flexes as his fingers move in and out of you, curving, hitting your sweet spot with the precision of a man who’s spent years learning what you like.
You come with a gush of wet that makes him groan again, loud.
‘Fuck,’ he pants, using his wet hand to stroke himself.
‘Wait, fuck,’ you cry, beyond caring that you’re pushing the boundaries of public indecency.
You lift your leg over and climb on top of him.
‘Fuck, baby,’ Namjoon grunts. His strong arms curl around you as you seat yourself onto his rigid cock.
He hisses. ‘Fuck, gonna come, fuck.’
He grinds you down into his lap, big hands either side of your hips. A moment later you can feel him twitching inside you.
Namjoon buries his face in the back of your neck.
In amongst the impassioned swearing he moans your name, like he can’t stop himself.
***
A baby wipe cleanup and several muttered curses on both your parts later, you find yourself dropping Namjoon off at the bistro.
‘Fuck, Yoongi’s going to be pissed, I’m so late,’ Namjoon says.
He makes no move to go, though, flashing a dimple at you, mischief in his eyes.
‘Should I just cancel on him and take you home instead?’
‘Don’t be an asshole,’ you tell him.
Namjoon laughs quietly.
‘Yeah.’
He gets out then, and just before he closes the door he says, ‘Hey. Ignore the texts I sent you earlier, ok?’
‘What texts?’
‘I didn’t really have a phone call to make at our counselling session earlier. I spent the time texting you instead,’ he confesses.
‘Kim Namjoon, if you sent me a bunch of dick pics I’ll block you,’ you threaten.
‘Yeah, it’s dick pics, I don’t mind if you save them,’ he says. He winks at you, slams the door closed and then he’s off, hurrying across the street.
***
You’re snuggling into bed when you remember you haven’t checked Namjoon’s messages.
Your husband has a beautiful dick, you’ve seen it plenty but you figure you could always use a visual reminder.
You click on the picture and freeze.
It’s a picture of you and Namjoon in college when you first started dating. He’s got his arm around you, most of his face obscured by a cap but you can see just enough to know he’s smiling. You’re tucked into his side, face bright with adoration.
You both look so young.
You both look so fucking happy.
A tear slides down your cheek.
Your vision blurs but you can see enough to read the next message.
I miss you.
You’re still thinking about him as you fall asleep.
©hamsterclaw 2023
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mcdonaldsnumberone · 1 year
Text
CROQUIS!
crush headcanons
gender neutral reader
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KUNIGAMI RENSUKE!
sza voice) it’s cuffing season! i need a big boy!
Kunigami moves gently. His sisters have drilled into him the importance of being a gentleman since he was young, and the last thing he’d want is to scare you away. He’s always asking if you’ve eaten or if you want him to walk you home if it gets dark. He might not be the most obvious with his feelings, but if you pay close attention, his actions definitely speak louder than words. He’ll be there in your time of need, and he’s the kind of guy everyone dreams of being crushed on by. While Kunigami isn’t afraid to initiate anything if he feels like the time is right, he’ll be more than happy to wait for you if you feel like he’s moving too fast. Patience is key, and he’s someone who wants to win you over, fair and square.
CONFESSION: Kunigami definitely feels like the kind of guy to take the traditional romantic route! He asks you out on a nice date and confesses at the end after he’s walked you home. He’ll be over the moon if you reciprocate and shyly kiss him on the cheek before promising him another date. He walks back home with a big smile on his face, the place where you kissed him tingling pleasantly like an electric spark landed on it. And boy, is he in for a whole bunch of teasing from his sisters once he steps through his front door.
RAICHI JINGO!
he’s bringing sexy back!
Once Raichi realizes he’s falling for someone, there’s nothing stopping him. He’s got his sexy soccer and nothing but a world of opportunities in front of him, so he’s doing the most to win you over. Whether it be showing off his soccer skills or striking up conversation as often as he can, he’s dead set on making some kind of impression on you. Despite this, Raichi has his soft moments too. He’s a keen observer, and if he notices that you have a favorite snack or a little quirk, he’s bound to remember it. He might be a bit rough around the edges, but he’s a total sweetheart who denies it and gets shy if you bring it up. There’s no fun in beating around the bush and playing mind games, so once Raichi decides he wants you, he’s going to go for it.
CONFESSION: He confesses straight up once he thinks the time is right. He doesn’t like wasting his time on nonsensical things, so he’ll simply come up to you when you’re alone and tell you outright that he’s interested in you. That doesn’t mean he can’t be sweet with it; he spends the time leading up to his confession pampering you in his own way and buttering up to you bit by bit. Even if his words are direct, he’ll get a little embarrassed. It’s truly a rare sight to see: the usually confident Raichi Jingo with shaking eyes and flushed cheeks!
NAGI SEISHIRO!
be the support to his main?
Everyone thought the world would freeze over before Nagi would take a genuine interest in anything outside of his video games, but when you walked into his life without any warning, that was the first time Nagi ever actually tried anything. He doesn’t make any drastic dramatic moves, but he cements himself as one of your lazy but trustworthy friends that you can crash with at any time. He plays the role of the pining best friend a little too well (not that he fully realizes it), and one day, when he thinks the chase is more trouble than it's worth, Nagi goes in for the kill. He doesn’t know how to describe the fluttering, nervous feeling in his chest that well, but he’s sure that if it’s you, you’ll understand what he means.
CONFESSION: Nagi kind of just… lets it slip one day when you’re over and chilling with him. It’s one of the late nights where the two of you are lounging around and talking about all sorts of things, when he suddenly stares at you intently and goes silent. When you ask him what’s up, he asks you if it’s normal for friends to feel this way towards one another and more or less ends up confessing his feelings. It’s so like him to get fed up with having a crush and simply making a move for convenience’s sake, but it’s charming if he’s the one doing it!
HIORI YO!
you’re my, my, my, my lover!
Hiori loves so purely and softly that it doesn’t really take much for everyone to start supporting him! He tends to pine from the sidelines, preferring to appreciate the relationship you have with him than trying to force something further. He wants to support you in your endeavors, so if you ever need someone to provide you some encouragement or to call late in the night when everyone is asleep, Hiori will be there like he always is. Still, he wishes he had the courage to reach out and intertwine your hand in his or to say the words that have always been scratching at the back of his throat. Someday he believes he can work up the courage to do it properly. 
CONFESSION: Hiori writes you a sweet love letter! He spends days, maybe even weeks, trying to find the prettiest words he can think of to fully capture how happy he is around you. He’ll find stationary that reminds him of you and write out his love in neat handwriting. He goes back and forth a lot too, wondering if he should actually go through with confessing to you, but he ultimately decides to take the leap of faith knowing that you’re always encouraging him to do his best! He’ll go out and buy an accompanying gift to give it to you with, and he prays that you feel the same as he does!
KURONA RANZE!
denial is a river in egypt!
Kurona acts like there is absolutely nothing wrong with him, knowing perfectly well that he’s screaming crying throwing up sliding down the wall whenever you walk past him or say hi. He’s so completely smitten with you to the point that it’s impressive how well he plays it cool, until people start picking up on how intently he listens to your words or how he’s always the first person to volunteer himself up whenever you need anything. All pining aside though, he wants to respect your boundaries, so he’s quick to read your mood and make his advances based off of you responding to them. Kurona crushes in a way that’s so boylike and cute that it’s hard to not be charmed by it!
CONFESSION: He strikes me as the guy to let it spill one day manhwa-style. Be it at a school festival or graduation day, when the sky is pretty and emotions run high, he’ll realize that he can only play it cool for so long lest he end up losing you. And in that one fateful moment where he can’t hold it in anymore, he’ll let his heart pour out its feelings towards you and hope that you can return even just a little of all the emotions he’s built up over the years. He’s been there for you since day one, and he wants to stay by your side for so much longer.
SENDOU SHUTO!
no hoes in his dms!
Oh, it’s so painfully obvious that Sendou has a crush on you. He gets so terribly flustered and doesn’t know how to act like a functional member of society whenever you’re brought up, let alone do anything to keep his crush under wraps when you’re actually with him. Still, he does his best to impress you. He’ll not-so-discreetly invite you out to practices where he can show off his skills and “accidentally” send you pictures of him looking all cool after a game in hopes that you’ll be swept off of your feet. But most of his time is spent panicking over something he said to you or tripping over his words whenever you ask him a question. He’ll trail after you everywhere, unable to actually work up the courage to ask if he can sit next to you. Please notice him!
CONFESSION: Let’s be real… The entire world (yourself included) already knows how down horrendous he is, that it’s only a matter of time before something sets the whole process in motion. As much as he likes you, you’ll most likely end up being the one to make the first move. If not, his soccer team (heavy on Aiku) will pressure him into confessing because they’re so sick and tired of him gushing over you and want the two of you together to shut him up. Although they all know that he’s only going to get worse when he realizes you like him back.
MICHAEL KAISER!
men should go to war and die!
Kaiser is shameless the moment he gets off of his high horse and falls for someone. He has everything going for him: the looks, the career, the salary… Who wouldn’t fall for him? He’s met with a rude surprise though that love doesn’t work the way he thinks it would, and he actually has to put in the effort to woo someone if he wants his crush to care about him. He lavishes you with gifts, making sure they’re all obviously from none other than the esteemed emperor, and he’s all up in your space if he spots you around. He tends to act like the two of you are already in a relationship rather than it being a one-sided thing, and he’ll dub you all sorts of cheesy nicknames to support his theatrics. It’s a great way of warding off any rivals though.
CONFESSION: As corny as it is, Kaiser would confess to you after a big win… He’ll be the star player, the man of the hour, and the hero of the game, and he’ll direct his attention to you while all the cameras are on. If you prefer something less pressuring, he’ll rent out the most expensive restaurant in town and shower you with a beautiful bouquet of blue roses before popping the question during dinner. It’s horribly tempting to knock him down a peg when he confesses to you, but you hate to admit that Kaiser has his endearing moments.
ALEXIS NESS!
gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss!
It’s kinda hard to tell what Ness is thinking at any given point. Granted, he does follow Kaiser’s orders like it’s his god-given task, but he’s also surprisingly good at how he feels. Deep down though, Ness loves having your attention! He likes being praised and being acknowledged by you, and it’s hard to ignore his hopeful glances at you whenever he makes a particularly impressive play. Once he can get all his cards out on the table, he’s entirely dedicated to you! It doesn’t matter what everyone else says or what his team wants from him: all Ness wants to do is spend the entire day soaking up your presence. It’s scary how loyal he can be, almost to the brink of obsession, but couldn’t you argue that his undying faithfulness is one of his strongest points?
CONFESSION: Ness confesses first thing after a long season overseas. He’s repressed his feelings for you for so long, thinking you wouldn’t see him the same way and afraid that you’d be put off by his odd mannerisms. But after long days without you in his periphery and the thought of you waiting for him after practices wore him down, and the moment he sees you in the airport, he runs at you and throws himself into your arms. Ness doesn’t want to be away from you ever again, so he promises to bring you with him wherever he goes.
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benedictscanvas · 10 months
Note
Hi! I’m such a huge fan of your Ted Lasso fics! I completely agree that there’s not enough Roy Kent fics out there. I was wondering if I could request a fic where Roy has feelings for the physiotherapist on the team and she has feelings for him too, and he’s all upset after his final game because he won’t be able to see her anymore and he’s worried she’s upset because he undid all her hard work rehabbing his knee, but it’s all sweet and yearning. I know that’s a lot so if it’s not your thing, absolutely no worries!
i've been meaning to get to this one, because i really like it!! and i just want to thank you for ur support because ur user pops up a lot in my notifs and i appreciate you so much <3 also i've made up roy's injury and keeley is with jamie in this ahaha | 2k words (!!), tw language, hurt/comfort
Roy is barely holding himself together.
He sinks down onto the bench in the dressing room and stares straight away, eyes burning. It's like his whole body is on fire and he knows if he held his hand in front of his face, it would be shaking. He doesn't try it, instead curls his hands into fists, clenching the bench below him.
He's fucked it.
His knee. His career. His life. It had been coming, he knew, but he still expected to have a year or two left in him. Some time to come to terms with his whole world coming crashing down around him. Instead he does one stupid fucking tackle on Jamie fucking Tartt and now he's done. Even the crowd had known it. The thought of them chanting for him brings back a lump in his throat.
He sees a shadow at the door and hangs his head. Knows the outline of you too well to pretend it's anyone else. You've come to shout at him, or slap him around the face, or maybe mock him. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to hear it.
You enter silently other than the door clicking shut behind you, but Roy doesn't look up to greet you. He keeps his eyes on the floor.
"I don't-" he clears his throat when his voice comes out all hoarse. All wrong, "I don't want to hear it. I fucked it, I know, and I don't want to fucking hear it."
You don't respond, instead walking further over to him and crouching down in front of him. He'd waved you away on the pitch, surprised that you'd let him stand up and walk off. He didn't look back at you when he did, knowing all he'd see would be disappointment.
You've got your physio bag, he notices, and you're unzipping it, rifling through the contents.
"There's no point. Get out, Y/N," he tries again, voice more desperate this time, "Please."
"Would you just shut the fuck up?" you say suddenly, louder than the quiet room deserved. You sigh, at yourself it seems, but Roy is frozen in place. He'd prepared himself for you to come and shout at him, but still hadn't expected you to really do it. You never shouted.
Still, he did as he was told, because he was too stunned to argue with you.
You get an icepack on his knee immediately, grumbling under your breath but he can't make out the words. There's some gel that you rub on too, and that eases some of the pain he's in, not that he can bring himself to say thank you. When you've properly secured the icepack to his knee, you finally look up at his face.
"You might have hurt yourself more by refusing that stretcher, you twat," you spit out, and he can see the anxiety swirling across your whole face, "Why do you have to be so..."
You trail off, scoffing to yourself without finishing your sentence as your gaze drops back down to his knee. Roy is tired and in pain and frustrated - all three of which were reasons for not wanting to have this conversation right now.
"Reckless? Fucking stupid? Old as shit? It's just what I fucking am, alright? I couldn't let that shit score, and now it's over. Fucking all of it."
He hears his voice get small towards the end. You're back looking at him and shaking your head before he's even finished.
"For the season, yeah. Then we get back to fucking work, Kent. We can start you on the slow stuff, rebuild the strength. I can assess whether you'll need an op-"
"Y/N."
"Don't," you say harshly, pointing up at him, but there's a break in your voice he doesn't know what to do with, "You're not done."
"We both know that it's my fucking ACL. Two years recovery time, more 'cause I'm fucking ancient. It's over."
He sees the tears in your eyes then. Fuck. One minute he thought you were unbearably angry with him, now you were on the verge of crying? He felt slow in a whole new way, unable to keep up with where this was going.
"You've worked so fucking hard," you grind out, "It can't just...if I'd done more on your knee the last few weeks maybe...We knew it was a problem. I could have-"
It hits him like a freight train when he realises all your anger is directed at yourself. That you're blaming yourself, not him. He gulps, watches you staring off in the direction of Ted's office as your tears fall.
You've worked together ceaselessly this season. He needs a lot of treatment in a lot of areas nowadays, not that he likes to admit it. You've been there every step of the way, poking and prodding and kneading out every knot, but also laughing. Eating the occasional breakfast when he comes in early for you to work on him.
He's not sure he's ever been this into someone before. Where it's crept up on him slowly and then washed over him all at once - about a month ago when Phoebe visited Richmond. Seeing you with her was like seeing some kind of future he never thought he'd have.
He still didn't think he'd have it. This injury was proof enough that good things didn't have a habit of coming his way. It was why he'd kept quiet about it ever since he realised rather than pouring his heart out to you.
"Hey," he says gruffly, completely out of his depth, "You're blaming yourself? I thought you were fucking livid with me."
Your eyes shoot back to his despite their bloodshot nature. Despite the situation, he watches as you giggle in disbelief.
"Angry with you? When has that ever fucking happened?" you say wetly, wiping at your face with rough fingertips, "I'm your physio, Roy, I'm meant to prevent this shit. And fix it. And now I can't fucking do either."
A fresh wave of tears bubbles up over your eyelids and travels down your face as you let out a sob. It's the first time he thinks about another side effect of his career ending - he'll have to leave Richmond. All the people he's come to love, despite really not wanting to. That would include you.
With an instinct he didn't know he had, he reached out to tug on your hand. You looked up at him in surprise, but he helps to pull you up with a small groan when you don't really let him take any of your weight. He guides you to sit next to him on the bench, so you do, sniffling uncontrollably.
"You've done a fucking lot for me these last few years. Especially this season. Don't fucking beat yourself up about this. I'm the one who made the stupid tackle."
"He was through on goal. You stopped him."
"And it might not make a fucking difference."
"It might," you try, crying slowing down as you switch into protective mode. He's seen you do it many times, but it never fails to bring warmth to his face, "Look, if I can't beat myself up, neither can you. Let's just blame the fucking universe, yeah?"
He considers it. Sounds like a good way to vent his frustration without falling into a spiral of self-hatred, but it might also get you to stop crying which is all he wants in the fucking world at this moment.
"Fine. Fuck the universe."
"Fuck the universe," you agree, bumping your shoulder lightly into his own, "Now would you start crying, please, so I'm not the only one embarrassing myself?"
Roy smiles despite himself at that, happy when he turns your way and sees you smiling too.
"I'm going to cry later, in the privacy of my fucking home," he says, wrapping an arm around you because it feels like both the right time and the right place, "Like a normal fucking person."
"Fuck you," you laugh, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. Roy spots a stray tear on your collarbone and reaches to smudge it away without thinking. You shuffle closer to him, his arm still around you, and put your own hand on his thigh.
Roy's brain short-circuits.
"I'll be leaving," he says, sudden even to himself, "Can't fucking stick around if I'm not playing."
"I know," you say softly, tucking your head into his shoulder. He can't let his own head rest against yours, because he knows he'd get too comfortable. Knows he'd never want to move again.
He takes a moment. He knows what he wants to say, he's just not sure he can.
"I don't want to fucking leave," he gets out through gritted teeth, but he's left out the most important word.
You. I don't want to fucking leave you.
It's stuck in his throat as he peers down at the top of your head, still resting on him. He kicks himself inwardly when he can't get the extra word out before you start talking, index finger tracing gentle patterns just above his knee.
"Yeah, I don't want you to fucking leave either," you say, as if you're admitting something terrible. He can tell you're watching the movement of your own hand to avoid looking up at him. "You won't stick around, join the coaching staff?"
"Fuck no," he barks out, feeling you chuckle against his side, "I couldn't do that shit."
"You could," you insist, "But it's okay if you don't want to. I just thought maybe I could look after you if you did."
He tries to move away from you to look at your face with a smirk, but you stay rooted to the spot and stop drawing your patterns on his leg abruptly.
"Your knee! I meant look after your fucking knee, Jesus."
It's now or never. He's so sick of never saying what he fucking means around you, but if he can't do that, he'll settle for the next best thing.
"Do you make house calls?"
It's the worst line he's ever used. But you're here rather than watching the end of the match, and your head is on his shoulder, hand on his thigh. He wonders if maybe, his luck might be balancing out, if maybe you'll understand what he's trying and failing to say.
"Huh?"
He stifles his own chuckle at the confusion in your voice. Willing himself to just fucking do something, he takes your hand from his knee and holds it in his own, clasping on tightly. There's a spike in his heart rate when you grip his hand right back.
"I'm asking-" he begins, hoping you can't hear his heartbeat, "-if you do house calls. To look after my knee, and shit. Once I'm gone."
"Oh."
You've definitely understood his meaning. In past months, he'd be tearing his hair out over trying to read between the lines, probably taking it out on Ted or Jamie or Isaac or whoever was nearby to be shouted at. Now he's positive, as you cling to his hand, that you know what he's trying to say.
Even if he's not sure of your reaction yet, there's already a weight lifted from his chest. And whatever that fucking gel you put on his knee was, he hasn't felt the pain in it since.
"As a club physio, no," you answer slowly, but he knows that's not the end of your sentence, "No house calls. Also no going into the dressing room during a match, no putting numbing cream on an injury just cause you don't want a player in pain, no holding a player's hand."
He's grinning now. Maybe because you can't actually see him doing it, but then he locks in on something you've said amongst the floating feeling that's taken over his body.
"Wait, you put fucking numbing cream on me?"
"You're welcome," you retort, "My point is that I've clearly broken a few rules for you already. So, house calls it is. For the sake of your knee."
He squeezes your hand.
"For the sake of my fucking knee, yeah."
And because it doesn't feel so scary anymore, he puts his head on top of your own and reminds himself that he was going to cry later, not now. For now, with your hand lodged tightly in his own, he decides to think about that future he didn't think he'd ever get, instead.
---
please see this post if you would like to request your own roy/jamie drabble!! closing soon <3
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judysxnd · 4 months
Text
Cookie dough
Lando Norris x reader
summary: when you burnt dinner, you decided to make the only thing you knew how to cook: cookies
I absolutely don’t like what I wrote, so imma do what I do when I send a risky text, I’m publishing it and staying away from my phone 😭
——————————————————————————
You were staying with Lando for a few days at his place before leaving for the new F1 season. Tonight he was playing games with his friends again, streaming a little to please his fans one last time. In the meantime, you were trying to make what could be your dinner, but it was not going well.
You’re not really a good cook, but you manage your way through. Usually. This time it didn’t seem like it. You couldn’t cook the meat right, it wasn’t enough, and when you thought it was good, it was overcooked. The rice is the only thing you didn’t mess up. But you couldn’t only eat rice! So you secretly ordered food while Lando was still playing.
But you decided to cook something for dessert, something that didn’t take long and that you knew you wouldn’t mess up: cookies. It was simple to make, and it doesn’t take long. You put some music in the background, from the playlist you made for Lando. You have similar taste in music, and every time Lando put his music you always liked it, so you made a playlist with his musics.
It helped when you were away from each other. When you missed him you put his playlist, making you feel like he was with you. He doesn’t know about it, you don’t think he does. It’s not like you were hiding it, but you usually listened to it when he wasn’t here, since when you’re together you mix both of your music.
You wanted to sing to the music, but Lando was streaming not far from you and no one needed to hear you. So you were doing some playback, moving your hips while you were making the cookies. You were so focused in the cookies and in the music that you didn’t hear Lando enter the kitchen.
“very much liking the view” he said, making you jump
“Oh, Lando! I didn’t hear you” you laughed “what are you doing here?” You asked him as he walked closer to you, leaving a kiss on your head before leaning against the counter next to you.
“Hm, I’m living here” he joked
“Haha hilarious” you rolled your eyes “you stopped streaming?”
“Yeah, I was getting too hungry and the smell of the food made me stop” you laughed
“Well you’re going to be disappointed” you admitted as you poured the flour in the bowl. He looked at you with a straight face.
“Why- what did you do?”
“I’m just not much of a cook”
“What did you burn this time?” He started to look for the food
“I didn’t burn anything!” You started to defend yourself “and you’re not better than me so you can’t say anything”
“I know I’m not better, but at least I know it and I stopped trying” he laughed
“You’re lucky my hands are busy otherwise I would have hit you”
“But where’s the food?” He opened the oven to see the meat completely black “if that isn’t burn I don’t know what it is” he closed the oven and went back to you
“I’m sorry I tried”
“It’s okay, I’ll order something”
“Don’t worry I already took care of it”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I ordered what we were supposed to eat” you laughed “I did hope you would still be playing so that I could pretend I cooked it, but, well, I can’t have everything”
“I would have noticed either way”
“Sure” you scoffed
“There’s a difference between food cooked at home and food from a restaurant, I would have known” he leaned on the counter again, stealing some dough from the bowl
“Hey! Keep your fingers out of the cookies!” He laughed, tasting it. “And no you wouldn’t know”
“At least the cookies are good, if you don’t burn them in the oven we can eat them” you pretended that you were going to hit him, making him step back a bit.
“You be careful with what you say pretty boy, because I know for a fact that you can’t tell the difference between the food I cook and the food from a restaurant”
“What? That’s not true”
“Yes, remember the lasagna we ate a month or two ago? That I made?”
“Back at your place?”
“Yes”
“Yeah, it was del- wait” you tilted your head “you didn’t cook it?”
“No, I burnt the sauce so I ordered them, I was too embarrassed to admit I messed up so I pretended I cooked them” he started to laugh
“I knew it tasted too good to be cooked by you” you couldn’t help but laugh too
“We’re not great cooks”
“No, we’re very bad cooks”
“The fire alarm always turns on when I cook breaded fish” you admitted
“What???” Lando was laughing even more “how is that even possible!” He said in a high pitched voice, still laughing
“I don’t know! So I stopped cooking those too”
“I can’t judge, it does the same for me”
“Okay can you pass me the chocolate chips please? In the bowl over there” you pointed, your hands full of cookie dough. Lando grabbed the bowl and poured the chocolate in the dough while you started to knead it.
“We’re making a good team” Lando said as he put the bowl in the sink
“You just put chocolate chips in a bowl” you laughed
“But I did it good” you rolled your eyes
“Whatever” you couldn’t help but laugh “can you change the music please?”
“Sure” he said as he grabbed your phone, changing the music. “Why is there my name on top of the list?”
“Hm?” You turned around “oh because it’s your playlist” he looked at you with puppy eyes
“You made a playlist for me?”
“Yeah!” You smiled “I love most of your music so I made a playlist with the songs we have in common”
“That’s so cute!” He walked behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while kissing your neck. “I made one for you too” he whispered in your ear.
“Really?” You had a big smile on your face. “Yeah, let me show you!”
“No no wait” you said before he could move
“What?”
“It can wait a bit, I want you to stay here” he kissed your cheek and rested his head on your shoulder, arms locked tight around you while you were finished to make the cookie dough.
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awfcspencer · 4 months
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Triple Double Watch || alessia russo x reader
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alessia russo x UNC! reader
prompt: Reader plays for UNC Women’s Basketball Team and Alessia surprises her at her game.
warnings: maybe slightly suggestive, fluff mostly
Your pregame ritual is very strategic and routine based, doing the same thing every game day, almost as if was a superstition. So per usual, you are sat post warmups in the locker room face-timing your girlfriend. You and Alessia had met in the UNC weight room, as the soccer team works out after the basketball team. One day, you had taken an extra long time between your sets and were the last one to finish, just as the soccer team had started to pile in. Trying to clean up the plates from the squats you had just done in a hurry, you run straight into someone.
“I am so sorry, I totally did not see you there.” You say as you look up to see the most gorgeous blonde with bright blue eyes.
“No that was totally my fault.” her voice laced with an english accent that immediately makes your head spin, belly full with butterflies.
“I guess we will call it even then” you laugh as she does the same. You quickly notice how the weight room is filling up with soccer players and your team is no where to be seen.
“Sorry again…..” You say, looking to her to catch her name. “Alessia, Alessia Russo” She says. “What a beautiful name, sorry again Alessia.” You yell out as you make a swift exit heading towards the basketball locker room.
In the coming weeks, you find yourself purposefully taking longer in the weight room to catch a conversation with Alessia.
You can feel her eyes on you as you finish your hard reps, sweat glistening off your body as you are lifting in shorts and a sports bra, as the weight room typically gets very hot.
“I can feel you staring Russo.” You whisper to her as her cheeks go red.
After multiple conversations, you and Alessia eventually exchange phone numbers and the two of you quickly become very close and after about 6 months of constant communication, you officially become an item. That is how you find yourself on the phone with Alessia a few hours before your basketball game against Florida State.
“You are going to play so well baby. I am so sad I wont be able to make it tonight. Lotte and I are going to watch it from our hotel.” Alessia frowns. The women’s soccer team season typically lasts for the first two months of basketball season, making it difficult for Alessia to be able to attend your first fifteen or so games, at least that is what you thought. This week, Alessia left Tuesday morning and was to arrive back Sunday afternoon, which meant 6 long days without your sweet girlfriend. Which for you felt like weeks as you and Alessia were practically attached at the hip when together and tried to relish in any time that you could spend with each other as the student athlete commitment meant several days without being able to see one another.
“Less it really is okay, I know you support me even if you are miles away. Actually where are you, the camera is off?” You ask her.
“Umm.. we are just in the hotel lobby, maybe it is the bad service. I do have to go soon though.” Alessia sighs.
“It is all good, I will call you after the game, okay? Love you” You reply back.
“Love you, play your heart out, I will be cheering loud.”
After ending the phone call, you finish your pregame ritual by lacing up your shoes and making sure your jersey is tucked in. Checking the scouting report one last time, and you are ready to play.
The crowd tonight in Chapel Hill is unlike any other. Seeing so many people come out to support not only your team but women’s sports in general could almost being tears to your eyes. Tonight’s opponent Florida State is an ACC rivalry, meaning getting the win tonight was mandatory.
For the first half, your team’s offense was flowing as well as your game as you were hitting shots and making the perfect passes and plays. Hearing the buzzer indicating halftime was music to your ears as you were giving it your all and you really needed a breather. As you walk past the bench on the way towards the locker room, you see the blue eyes that you could spot in a crowd full of people, but you quickly shake it off as Alessia was supposed to be at a soccer match.
A quick talk from your coach about some adjustments and play changes, and you are out on the court about to begin the second half. The second half goes just as well as the first, and your team is playing incredibly well. You are also not doing to bad yourself as you have 16 points, 11 rebounds, and 12 assists, earning yourself a true triple double. You are playing incredibly well, it’s almost as if you feel a surrounding presence that makes you play better.
The final whistle blows and you squash Florida State 79-65. You feel very solid about your performance but also a bit tired as you feel you really gave it your all. After a quick chat with your team and coach, as well as media duty, you find yourself sitting at your locker about to get ready for a shower.
Your teammate, Deja Kelly, comes up to you before you begin to take off your jersey. “I am supposed to tell you that there is someone here to see you in the gym at half court.”
Immediately you are confused and you try to ask Deja who it is but she replies with, “I am not sure, better go find out though.” If you had taken a longer second and really looked at Deja’s face, you would have seen her mischievous grin as she lied straight through her teeth.
Making your way to the court, you begin to wonder who could possibly be here to see you. Seeing two people standing at half court, you quickly become confused because as you get closer, you know exactly who is waiting for you, especially when she is wearing your jersey number with your last name sprawled across the back.
“Less baby what are you doing here.” You scream immediately pulling her into a tight hug and doing a quick spin as her legs find your hips. After setting her down, but not before you give her a bruising kiss, heated from not only the great game you just had but also from missing her.
You quickly say hello to Lotte and pull her in for a hug as well, as she has practically become a sister to you after meeting her in the early days of your and Alessia’s relationship.
“I had the dates wrong on the calendar and we got back this morning and I wanted to surprise you at your game. You played so well baby.” Alessia says as she smiles at the way you completely light up in her presence.
Pulling her in for another kiss you are in complete pure bliss as you originally thought you would be returning to an empty bed and apartment. “I am glad you were able to make it, both of you.” sending Lotte a genuine smile.
“I did not realize how good you are at basketball, I had to have Less explain some of the rules to me.” Lotte mentions and you and Less laugh a bit.
“Thank you Lotte, I put on a show just for you without even knowing you were here.” Turning to Alessia, “I just need to finish my shower and pack up, do you want to maybe order in a pizza and I can meet you back home in about 30?” You ask her.
“Yes that works perfect babe, I will drop Lotte off at her place and then we can eat and watch a movie.” she says.
Saying goodbye to both of them, you take the fastest shower you possibly can and pack up your stuff to head home to your girlfriend. Arriving at your shared apartment, you immediately smell your favorite local pizza shop pizza and see Less sitting at the island finishing up a few assignments for her classes.
“Hey baby” you say as you walk behind her and wrap your arms around her and place soft kisses on her neck, truly taking in her amazing scent. You don’t know what heaven is like, but you can imagine it is something like this.
Grabbing you and Alessia’s pizza slices and heading over towards the couch as Alessia is trying to find a movie for you two to enjoy. After finding the perfect movie, you both finish eating and have moved to cuddling Alessia in your arms as her back is on your chest and your legs are tangled with a blanket over both of you.
The ending rolling credits on the movie begin and Alessia turns to straddle your lap and says to you, “Now how should we celebrate your triple double.” as she pulls you in for a kiss and her hands quickly find your hair.
Your hands placed on her hips as you whisper to her, “I’ve got a few ideas.” as you carry her towards your shared bedroom. “My jersey on you is seriously the hottest thing I have ever seen.” you say to her before beginning a long night of celebrations.
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yaksha-lover · 6 months
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Please share any vampire thoughts for spooky season because my dumbass sees rollo as a vampire hunter who is trying to "save" yuu from the horrible situation that they are unaware they're in. Rollo they have a cat and don't need to pay rent they're mostly good.
You’re so big brain for this anon.
Rollo definitely repeatedly breaks into the mansion with the excuse of ‘saving Yuu.’ Meanwhile they’re sitting at the kitchen table having a pleasant discussion with Lilia and Malleus over tea or playing video games with Ace and Deuce or taking a nap with Leona or a million other completely normal situations he’s bursted in on.
At some point you think maybe this guy is just a bit slow and you straight up tell him that you’re completely fine where you are. You’re basically Lilia’s sugar baby, he supports you and your cat son, you get to hang out with your friends all day and do nothing. Life is pretty good.
Instead of taking you at your word like a normal person, Rollo decides to assume that you’re under the control of some kind of seductive vampire hypnosis that’s making you believe you actually like it there. He proceeds to double down on his attempts to take you from them.
He’s also super weird about everything. One time you accidentally brushed his hand in one of your many attempts to explain that you’re fine, and he started blushing and accusing you of already being turned by the vampires or of being some kind of temptation sent to bring him to the mansion. You remind him he’s the one who broke in and he’s still not convinced.
Everyone at the mansion is sick of him pulling this shit every week. They just want to eat a single meal in peace without having this obnoxious vampire hunter burst in trying to ‘rescue’ you. Lilia speculates on more ways to Rollo-proof the mansion.
God forbid he actually succeeds in taking you back to his dwelling. No matter what you say, he’ll pretty much just be in denial about it, assuming it’s just because you’re still under the influence of the vampires. Eventually, he’ll decide that he needs to try more direct methods to break you out of their hypnosis. He tries to kiss you (‘for your own good’). You beat him up. He calls you a witch. The cycle repeats until you escape back to the mansion.
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hp-hcs · 5 months
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Hmmm how about a poly oneshot with bully Draco and Lorenzo who hates the reader for being with the golden trio and mainly potter ?? They hate how touchy and blushy harry gets around their darling and vice-versa. They hate how everyone thinks you two are together and you don't do anything to clear up the rumor. They hate how you're always in his dorm and they hate seeing your lipgloss mark left on harry. But God do they love you and can't take it anymore 🤭🤭
oooh, interesting! love to see that you’re a hoe for drama (lovingly)
hate how this turned out but wtv
lipstick — yandere! enzo berkshire & yandere! draco malfoy x gn! gryffindor! reader
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tws: toxic/possessive/obsessive behavior, slut shaming, implied sexual content? (question mark?)
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“Look at stupid Potter. With his stupid scar, and his stupid friends, and his stupid Y/N.”
“His?” Enzo laughs. “Y/N is not his.”
“Not if we can help it,” Draco mumbles.
The pair watches in silence as you throw a snowball at the ginger weasel, ducking behind Harry when the bloodtraitor tries to retaliate.
Harry scooped you up in his arms, like a valiant prince coming to save the day.
They can both hear your clear laugh, even from the other side of the courtyard. It makes them both seethe with anger.
~~~
“C’monnnn,” you pleaded, tugging at Harry’s arm. “I have friends other than you. I wanna talk to Luna and Pansy and Blaise.”
Harry rolled his eyes, not putting up much of a fight as you dragged him into the Great Hall.
It was a new thing this season, to promote house unity, or whatever. The heads of houses had come up with the idea; tea, cocoa, and cookies in the Great Hall every Friday evening. Everyone welcome.
The Great Hall is dimmer than usual, not all of the floating candles lit. A few dozen student of all houses mingle and meander.
A group of kids sat on a blanket on the cool stone floor, almost as if it were a picnic.
Another group had thrown blankets and sheets over part of the ridiculously long tables, creating a blanket fort underneath.
You headed straight over to where Luna was painting Pansy’s nails. They greeted you with laughter as Luna’s unsteady hand got orange nail polish all over Pansy’s knuckle.
You gasp. “Harry! Let me paint your nails! Pleaseeee?”
He shrugged, looking over the myriad of colors laid out. He picked one up and held it out towards you.
“Snitch gold, for luck.”
You laugh, accepting the bottle and pointing for him to sit down.
“You don’t need luck, Harry. You’re you.”
Across the room, two Slytherins clocked Potter’s shy grin and bright blush.
~~~
You sat down with your friends, a wicked game of truth or dare already in full effect. As predicted, Gryffindor had won their game against Hufflepuff, resulting in a very large house party. You’d noticed a few Ravenclaws around and wondered how they got in, until you saw the Slytherins, the lions’ main suppliers of firewhiskey and good times.
“I dare you…” Ginny trailed off as she thought. A wicked grin spread across her face. “I dare you to wear that failed blue glitter lipstick that me and Cho made.”
You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. That’s easy.”
“For the whole day tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not afraid. Bring it on.”
~~~ “Draco!” Enzo hissed as he harshly elbowed his friend in the ribs.
“Ow. What?” He followed Enzo’s finger, pointing straight at the Gryffindor table. “What am I looking at?”
“Potter.”
Harry James Potter was furiously scrubbing at his skin with a napkin as you, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were all practically howling with laughter.
Sure enough, you were true to your word, wearing that ridiculously tacky lipstick that stood out like a beacon when surrounded by all of that garish red and gold.
Harry let out a visible sigh, tossing down the napkin and sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest in an obvious sulk.
Right there, smack dab in the middle of his cheek, was a perfect blue stain from a kiss.
Draco’s ears burned with rage.
“Nope. Come on, Enz. We’ve waited damn long enough.”
~~~ “It’s not coming off, guys,” Harry whined.
“Why do you think we called it failed?” Ginny laughs, the blue smudge on his cheek looking quite comical. “That’s what happened when we tried to wear it.”
You snicker. “You look good in blue, Harry,” you teased, enjoying the faint blush that settled over his cheeks.
You suddenly felt a heavy hand come down on your shoulder, tightening to the point where it was almost painful.
You whirled around, surprised to see two Slytherins you’d barely talked to.
Harry sneered at the sight of his long-time rival, Malfoy. “What do you gits want?”
They both ignored him, as if he wasn’t there at all.
“We need to talk to you,” Enzo snapped, his hand on your shoulder tightening even more as he all but dragged you out of your seat.
You stumbled after him as Draco propelled you forward with a firm hand on the small of your back.
The two boys dragged you out into the hall, away from prying eyes. Draco wasted no time before shoving you up against the wall in a secluded alcove.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, kissing Potter?”
“W-what?” You stammered, your brain not yet having caught up with the situation.
Enzo scoffed. “Whoring yourself out to anyone who blushes at you, huh?”
“What?”
“How long have you been sleeping with him, hm? How long?”
“Wh- Harry? We’re friends!”
“Friends, huh? Friends?” Enzo scoffed.
“Yes!” You snapped. “Who d’you think you are, questioning my- mmfph!”
Draco surged forward and kissed you harshly.
~~~
Enzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, and Y/N L/N all stumbled into Defense Against the Dark Arts twenty minutes late, their clothes rumpled and their skin stained with blue lipstick.
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