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jinxs-gf · 1 month

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beauty is in the eye of the beholder

pairings: jinx x reader

summary: You’re an artist, giddy at the thought of creating a portrait of Jinx, your lover. Except she can’t understand why you’d want a portrait of her.

content, warnings: jinx has cute aggression & insecurities, fluff! reader calls jinx ‘angel’ and jinx calls r her toots, too much description and it’s all barely edited D: pretty cringe but it’s okay

w.c. 2.2k

a.n. based off this request <3 again tysm anon ILY :)

You walk into the little corner of Jinx's room (the abandoned, giant space full of nothingness—that goes down...who knows how far) exclusively reserved for you. There's easels with and without canvases. Some covered in abandoned art, some finished, and some blank. The corner screamed you all over it. Especially the mess of unnecessary amounts of paint brushes, buckets, pencils, tore up paper...

Paint splotches and spills were scattered across your little desk and the floor (the work of you and Jinx).

There's particular squabbles of paint that you don’t mind. A happy face with a squiggly smile that's been there long enough to start chipping away. An uneven mess of hearts scattered in attempt to make the perfect one. Big words that read "I love you" in blue and smaller words next to it, "jinx waz here" in pink. The newest stain is on one of the many cans of your desk, a mark of her kiss. She'd quite literally painted her lips with bright purple and kissed the can, insisting it was there so her toots would never miss her.

Even though there's no time to miss her. Even though she resorts to bringing her work over to your tiny desk instead of keeping it to her very spacious one. You don't mind, the closer to your girlfriend the better. You pretend to be bothered though, only so she'd persist and annoy and squish into your space further.

You tie the apron, generously gifted by Silco, around yourself, excited to (hopefully) start a new, special project. It was gifted reluctantly of course. He tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, but it was a very big deal. The eye of Zaun gift giving? Unheard of. You must be special. And you were, according to your blue haired menace that reminded you everyday. The very menace you affectionately named Angel.

"Toots!"

Jinx's gloved hands wrap around your body and suddenly, your back is crunched to her front. Her hands squeeze your tummy while nuzzling her face into you. Clearly she had missed you...for the whole minute you were separated.

It's like she can tell you were thinking it, "What? You didn't miss me while you were gone? You don't seem so excited I'm here." She's teasing like she always does. The edge and rasp in her voice so close to your neck doing wonders to the butterflies in your stomach.

But of course Jinx missed you. Could you really blame her? She hates every second you're apart, and she loves that you do too. So she's open about it, maybe more dramatic and a bit of a show off, but only to make you laugh and see you turn bashful. She loves getting you shy with her affections and teasing, unable to fathom the way you're wrapped around her finger the way she's wrapped around yours.

Your hands delicately grab her small, rough ones, turning yourself around to face her. "Don't even start with me, I'll tickle you to death if you keep up the accusations."

"Is that supposed the be a threat?" And oh, the pout is more real than sarcastic than she wants it to be. Like she genuinely doesn't like the idea of being threatened...by tickles (you know the idea is scary to Jinx, it's the truest form of torture she said once).

"Kind of." Your hands swing in the gap between the two of you. "Hey I actually had an idea. Care to hear?" It's something you've been wanting to do for a while now, giddy at the thought of it. Yet suddenly you find yourself a bit reluctant, still undoubtedly shy around your lover. You hope she'll say yes and that her teasing from this won't be too harsh.

"Hit me with it!"

"Will you let me draw you? Like a full portrait? I promise I'll do you justice!"

Jinx is sorry for it, but she stopped listening immediately, too enraptured by your connected hands, heart beating a little faster at the contact. You'll never know the effect you have on her (or so she thinks), she refuses to get teased even though she loves to tease you. She adores how flustered you get. Teasing is her love language, Jinx's way of showing her love for her toots. And when you decide it's unbearable enough, you'll shut her up with a kiss. Jinx will drag it out and annoy you for that reason alone. She counts on a messy kiss every time.

Unknowing of what to do with the sudden adoration creeping up on her, she pinches your hands hard.

Unfazed, you call her "Angel?"

"Hm?" She looks up and at you with so much affection. So much it stops you for a moment. Your giddiness to do this increases tenfold, her expression killing you in the best way possible. You can be extremely honest about this to soften her up, make her want to say yes.

"I'd like to draw you. Like really, really badly. I have for the longest time. You're just...stupidly pretty and it makes me feel so stupid and I want to scribble your face all over my canvases all the time. So...can I? You'll have to sit for me as reference." You say it as if you don’t have every bit of her memorized, which you completely do.

And for whatever reason, your menace (angel) is stunned. You notice it’s a bad kind of stunned, you realize quickly.

“…Me?”

“Yes?”

“But why?” Jinx asks quiet and unsure of herself. Her eyes look everywhere but you, she tries pulling back but you squeeze her hands. There’s a hint of anxiety around her, something she hasn’t experienced since she met you.

The mood switch and uncharacteristic behavior causes worry to stir in your chest. “Uhh, why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, you’re the prettiest girl in the Undercity and in Piltover! Trust me, none of those snotty ladies are as pretty-”

“You haven’t even been to Piltover.”

“I don’t need to go over there to know they don’t compare to you.”

She heaves a big sigh, your worry growing.

“I just- I'm not pretty or beautiful or any of the things you say I am. You call me angel when I'm far from that! You love art, it’s your thing, toots. Your passion and escape. How can you let someone like me ruin something you love so much? I don’t want to…I don’t know.”

When you don’t answer, she continues.

“I’m not worthy of so much time being spent on something so precious you know?” She says it like she hopes you’ll agree. You won’t.

“Angel,” you let go of her hands to cup her face, needing her to hear you. “Of course you’re worth spending time on. I love you. Do I not say it enough? I know I can be-”

“No, you say it lots and lots!”

“I’ll say it more. I need to make sure you believe it. And guess what? I meant what I said Angel. You’re the prettiest girl. The prettiest to exist. And you’re mine, do you know how lucky I am? You clearly don’t understand how much I feel for you. You’re worth every second I’m gonna spend on your portrait, you understand?”

And finally, her smile is back, gone is the unsure frown.

Jinx nods and you nod while smiling with her, going in for a kiss…multiple kisses. Kisses all over her precious face, because she deserves to feel loved. To know that she’s loved.

You can be put your timidness to the side for the hour. She needs your confidence in your feelings right now. Your confidence in her.

"Now get in my lap, I need a better look at your pretty face." Your teasing demand flusters her. She immediately settles in your lap so your chests touch. It wasn't everyday (really ever) that you spoke to her like that, always too shy to do so. But Jinx finds that she kind of likes it, she wants you to demand contact with her, especially in a position like this. It makes her feel gooey inside. Butterflies uncontainable.

It's not exactly ideal, you're not used to having your girlfriend in your lap while sketching. But you wanted this, and it's not making it impossible. All you have to do is wrap your arms around her pretty waist and rest your chin on her shoulder. It's perfect.

"For science huh? To 'get a better look' at me was it? Toots, if you wanted me in your lap you coulda just said that!" She teases, assuming you just wanted her there to have a more accurate picture.

You quietly confess, "jus' wanted you in my lap." Giving her waist a squeeze while you sketch her jaw.

You can tell you've stumped her (but this time in a good way). She's gone impossibly quiet and still. Warm too, just like she always does when you attempt to flirt. The two of you were truly unable to get over and deal with the timidness of being affectionate. Of being together.

And just like always, she melts. Like how ice cream does in the sun (a sugary delight you've been able to share with Jinx once). Her stiff back let's loose and she squeezes in return. She holds on like you'll disappear. You wouldn't. Not ever, because how could you? When you love her and when she loves you to death?

It’s quiet for the rest of the time you’re drawing, Jinx resorting to drawing patterns on your back, seemingly drifting off at some point. She internally scolded herself for it, not wanting you to think she was bored but it was taking a while. She wanted to have this moment with you though, it was so delicate, something that’s not occurred before. Especially with the earlier conversation. It was special.

You dot the last bit of her freckles on the white sheet. "All done," a kiss to the side of her head that makes her impossibly warm and dig her face deeper. "Needa color it in now." Color it with the paint the two of you always make a mess out of, there's no doubt in your mind it'll happen again.

She turns to finally look at it, her eyes wider than you've ever seen. "Holy shit toots, there's no way you did that!"

"Are you accusing me of cheating?"

"Maybe." She always knew you were the best artist of the Undercity (definitely not biased), you were just that good. But this was different. Was it because it was a drawing of her? Well...it was also the fact that it was so accurate. From her eyes, nose, mouth, jaw...even the way her hair curled in front of her face. And the scars, scars even she herself had forgotten about. But you remembered, you hadn't looked at Jinx once the whole time. You really did have her memorized huh? You didn’t have to say it, the way you insisted she sat in your lap instead of on a different chair for reference and the drawing in front of her is enough proof.

Jinx needed to go look in whatever was left of her shattered mirror to see this. She couldn't believe how pretty she looked on a piece of paper. She couldn't believe you took the time to do this. That you even wanted to in the first place. Jinx has been flustered and felt her heart beating awfully fast just from your gaze alone. But she thinks her heart might be about ready to explode, much like her countless monkey bombs or firelights.

She's unsure how to contain or show this rush of deep, deep affection, so she pushes your face from where it's searching her reaction and jumps out your lap, rushing for your paint cans.

You're kind of confused, but also accepting of her reaction. You're used to it, not that she always runs away due to avoiding feelings. Definitely not. Jinx was one to have so much affection for something or someone that you just...want to pinch, squeeze or...bite it. Luckily she hasn't got you (yet). It was a little shove, probably to prevent herself from sinking her teeth into your cheek. (You truly wouldn't have minded) (you kind of would have, it hurts).

She's back in front of you holding up a bucket half full of bright blue paint. At her feet she's set down small cans of various blues, pinks, and purples. Her favorite colors, obviously.

"Here ya go toots!” There’s no doubt in your mind you’ll be making a mess with the paint when you’re done.

Except, you haven’t even picked out a paint brush before you feel her hands grab your waist from behind, the familiar feeling of paint transferring from her touch to your body.

You look back at her, squinting. “Excuse me?”

“What? Can’t grab my toots’ love handles?”

You turn around, grabbing her hands and pulling her closer to you. You take a peak at her handy work, the blue on your waist making you feel things. You won’t let her know that though.

“Two can play at that game.”

“Try me then toots.”

You release your hands from hers and cup her face with them, leaving blue prints of your palms on her cheeks.

#oh my GOD guess who finally posted #kind of not how I wanted it to come out but it’ll do!#been working on it on and off for a bit #jinx x reader #jinx x you #arcane jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x female reader #jinx x gender neutral reader #jinx x male reader

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amorphousbl0b · 4 months

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Arcane does a fun thing with its narrative Darkest Hour.

Or: yet another post about how insanely smart this show is and how absolutely genius its writers are (and how jealous of them I am).

For the uninitiated, the Darkest Hour is the moment just before the climax in which the heroes are at their lowest point. When the Avengers are scattered and Loki opens the portal in NYC, when the Falcon has escaped the Death Star but lost Obi-Wan, when the Fire Nation is set to annihilate the Earth Kingdom, when Frodo fails to destroy the Ring at the Crack of Doom. The heroes must confront their flaws and change for the better for a happy ending.

Arcane’s darkest hour is, of course, in Act 3. One might place it at the very end of episode 9, and that’s certainly where the story is at its most hopeless. But I’d contend it starts as early as the end of episode 8 and carries on through the entirety of episode 9.

After all, that’s when Caitlyn and Vi have separated, lost all hope, and Cait is kidnapped by Jinx. Jinx’s mind is fully gone and throughout the episode everything falls apart around her. Silco is losing control of his chembarons and may well have lost his daughter, the thing most precious to him, and is only barely keeping his powerful façade in line. Zaun has realized how ridiculously outmatched they are in a war with Piltover and the revolutionary cause has become almost impossible. Viktor has manslaughtered his assistant and may never be cured. Jayce has manslaughtered a child and finally realizes how quickly he’s losing his morals. Mel and her mother are fully separating and she is struggling with her warlike destiny. Sevika gets the absolute snot beat out of her and limps to an empty office without a boss.

So yeah. Lot of personal Darkest Hours going on.

“But what’s the interesting thing?” I hear you ask in my ear. I don’t know why I hear you. Shut up. I’m writing. Are you even real?

Excuse me.

Arcane’s interesting twist on the Darkest Hour lies in part of the trope that I didn’t mention. That’s in the villain.

Most stories with a clear-cut villain have a plot structure something like this:

Whether things are going well for one side is inversely proportional to the other. During the Darkest Hour, when the hero is at their weakest, the villain is at their most dominant.

Wait… isn’t Silco the villain of Arcane? Not to be too blunt, but he’s having a shit time. Things are falling apart for him just as badly as for everyone else.

That's the trick. Caitlyn and Vi are suffering. Jinx is suffering. Silco is suffering. Jayce is suffering. Viktor is suffering. Zaun as a whole is suffering. There is only one party in the whole story that isn't suffering, that actually is benefitting from this horrid state of affairs...

EKKO AND HEIMERDINGER

Kidding. They're not really a part of this dance. A big part of Arcane's theming is that acting to help people without an agenda is simply more virtuous than fighting for any invariably-flawed nation that innately perpetuates the cycle of violence.

No, the side that is doing fine is the other that is conspicuously absent from my two prior lists. While the characters that make up its leadership are experiencing personal Darkest Hours, the organization itself is essentially on top of the world, having just scored a huge victory and getting set to bring the war to an end before it even begins. I mentioned how poor the situation for the Undercity looks, but not its counterpart.

Piltover.

Wasn't it so that Piltover started this whole mess? Didn't their oppression cause the revolt that orphaned Vi and Powder's parents? Isn't it their actions that drive Silco to ever greater extremes? Isn't it their normalized political backstabbing that causes Jayce to sacrifice his principles because that's the only way to get ahead? Isn't it their corrupt police force that lets Silco operate his drug empire with impunity?

Silco might look the part. He might be the most personally evil character, might be the one who causes the most misery for our main protagonists Vi and Powder.

But structurally, the shining city of Piltover, its political machine, and its Enforcers are the actual villains of Arcane.

#arcane #darkest hour #writing #silco #piltover #zaun #piltover and zaun #heroes and villains #good writing #just realized this #still noticing new things #even two full years later #i love this show #has someone said this before?#long post

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luveline · 11 months

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Hi Jade! I love your writings so much. I often keep them as a treat for my way to work - only if I can be patient.

There is a big thunderstorm right now and I rememberd how when I was little my dad took me in his arms and went to the window to show me I don't have to be afraid of a thunderstorm. That got me thinking about Eddie and Roan. I can really picture them doing this. And r witnesses, maybe before the proposal (somehow I mentally devide their timeline in bevor and after the proposal and moving houses).

I don't know if you would want to write something like that. Perfectly fine if you don't.

hi my love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like it! eddie and roan —eddie comforts roan during a thunderstorm. 2k, fem!reader

Eddie knows without looking out of the window that the crunching sound outside is the tires of your car as you park. A slamming follows, then your footsteps hurried in the rain bumping up the stairs. You open the door, ushering in a hail of rain and your funny awkward smile he adores so much, like you're surprised to find him in his own home.

"Hi, sweetheart," you say, rain rivulets racing down your cheeks, "it's raining bad."

"Yeah?" he asks, semi-serious.

He's feeling slovenly today (and pretty much every other day too, though he's allowing himself the indulgence of listening to his wants for once) and so he remains laying down on the couch, but he reaches out with two grabbing hands for you, encouraging you in.

You frown at his teasing, slipping out of your shoes and your coat, and letting them fall as you walk toward him. He knows you aren't so rude as to leave your stuff lying around. You're as eager to see him today as he is to see you, because you've been separated for a few days; you've been at work and your own home, Eddie at Roan's art and crafts summer workshop, both slightly too busy to come and see one another without causing upheaval.

You walk into his arms, which is to say you kneel on the couch and then collapse like a dry sand castle into his chest. You're a grown woman with enough weight to make him groan at your sudden landing. Eddie wouldn't change a thing about you, including your roughness, and he takes your hug in stride.

"I missed you so much," you say, kissing his jaw.

You hadn't meant to kiss his jaw; you go in for a corrective peck against his lips, your smile sticky with clear balm and smelling of oranges, peaches. Sweet, citrusy. Eddie licks his lips when you pull away and beams at the transferred flavour.

"Ew," you murmur, wrinkling your nose even as you smile.

"You taste nice, what can I say?" Eddie looks at you through one eye. "You actually got prettier while you were away, didn't you? I missed you so much I made you prettier."

"You have freaky mind powers," you say agreeably, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek. He must shine in the light from all the spread gloss.

"It's really raining out there. Did you get that leak fixed last time?" you ask.

Eddie puts an arm behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. "Ah, she'll be okay. It can't get that bad again, can it?"

You try to cover his mouth and prevent his jinx, but it's too late. Within five minutes, the rain has turned to a hammering spatter against the roof and ceiling of Eddie's home, and the windows shake in their frames as the wind howls.

You ease to one side of Eddie to take your weight off of his chest and the two of you peer out at the quickly darkening sky, perturbed but nothing anymore severe at the suddenness of the weather.

"Maybe that's why it's been so warm," he suggests, trailing a fingertip down your back. "It was waiting to break."

"The heat?" You rub your cheek against his shoulder, and take a sneaky breath in that Eddie pretends he doesn't notice.

"Isn't that what it is, the pressure? Weather systems? Cyclones?"

"Sorry, handsome, buzzwords won't turn me into a weatherologist." You put your hand on his cheek and rub the pale, stubbly skin beneath it with an adoring thumb. "I bet you're right. Do you have enough stuff to survive if we get rained in for the weekend?"

"Sure. Got a whole crock pot of stew going, with tiny carrots and pearl onions and the works. Sautéed, by the way."

"Sounds delicious," you say, smiling down at him like he's hung the moon. He'll never, ever get sick of the sweetness with which you see him. "Can I try some?"

"It should be done now if you want me to fix you a bowl."

You climb off of him as carefully as you're able to, so you almost jab him in the crown jewels. You're sorry kiss makes up for it, and better the little sound of happiness you make from the kitchenette after your first taste of stew. You eat another spoonful quickly, and Eddie's content to let you do as you like as long as you keep smiling like that.

He's thinking Roan's been suspiciously quiet for a while when his daughter miraculously appears. She looks exactly like him, though Roan has a slightly different nose. Her dark eyebrows are pulled down and in, her little pink lip pouted out.

"What's up?" he asks gently, always sorry when she's unhappy. He clambers up into a sitting position and holds out his arms. She rushes forward, burying her face in his KISS shirt without a sound. "Ro, what's wrong?"

He pet's her hair out of her face. She whispers something, but Eddie can't hear her. He ducks his head and whispers too. "What's wrong? I can't hear you, you're so quiet. Shout at me, please."

"I don't like the storm."

Eddie's eyebrows rise in realisation. "Ah, I know. Sorry, baby, I should've come to see if you were okay, you don't like the loud noise, huh?"

"It flashed, dad."

"Did we have lightning?"

"It was really bright, and then the sky cracked."

Eddie rubs the short stretch of her back, her grubby t-shirt bunching under his hand. He decides that's as good a distraction as any he'll get and hugs Roan to his chest as he stands. "Let's put pyjamas on. Wanna say hi to Y/N first?"

Roan perks up when she sees you. You're caught red-handed, still standing at the kitchen eating spoons of stew over your hand, but neither Munson cares. You waylay them with cheek kisses and offer to plate up dinner. Eddie things it's a great idea.

"Before she eats it all," he murmurs to Roan cheekily.

You harrumph, but the emphasis is lost on account of your full mouth. Eddie's kidding, but if you did want to eat that whole crock pot he'd let you, he likes you that much. Or, he'd let you given you save enough for Roan. She loves loves loves pearl onions.

He wrangles her into new pyjamas and brushes out her hair, but Eddie's affection and hugs can't hide bellowing rain and thunder, and by the time he's braided her hair out of her face in loose pigtails she's shaking in his lap.

"It's really scary, is it?" he asks.

"It's so loud," she says, her voice tenuous as a string of silk. Eddie senses a bout of tears approaching. "Daddy, I don't like it, I want it to go away."

Eddie bundles her up into his arms again and carries her slowly back into the living room. You frown at them as they pass the kitchenette, concerned by Roan as she hides her face in Eddie's front.

He pats her back, swaying her from side to side. Eddie can't make the rain stop, and he can't quieten thunder, but he can comfort her. He can explain it so it feels less huge and out of reach.

"Baby," he says, approaching the window. "Have a look. It's okay, I promise, just have a look."

Roan brings her head up reluctantly.

"See all that? It's not scary if you don't want it to be." Rain hits the window, the sound dulled by walls but still abrasive. He turns his body so Roan can see the huge dark clouds above them. "I know the clouds are scary because they're dark, but they're dark because they're full of so much water. The water comes out, and the clouds go white again, that's all it is."

"What about the banging?" she asks, wide eyes glassy as she peers between the window and her dad's patient smile.

"You know lightning, the big white flash? The lightning moves through the cloud so fast that it makes a loud noise, but it's not mean. Think about if me and you were running real fast down the hallway. Our footsteps would be loud, but we'd be having so much fun we don't think it's bad."

Roan looks out at the rainy road and field outside of the trailer window. She's pouting.

"Like a sponge?" she asks quietly.

"Want to go look?"

"Outside?" she asks, shaking her head vehemently. "No, dad."

"No, in the sink! In the sink, I'll show you."

Eddie carries her to the kitchen. You're looking at him with hearts for eyes, and he has no idea what it's for but he sends you a joking wink. He props her on the counter, his hand on her knees to stop any accidental slipping, and passes her the sponge.

"Alright, RoRo, you have the sponge and hold it under the water." He flicks on the cold top. Roan holds it under the water, watching intensely as it starts to darken. "Now squeeze it, all the colour goes away."

She squeezes it. Cold water splashes the side of the empty sink basin and it sounds loud in the relative quiet of the kitchen. "It's like the thunder," she says.

"Exactly!" He rubs her little shoulder. "Wanna try the sponge again?" he asks.

It's simple, but it helps her calm down, and his explanation is seemingly good enough. Roan doesn't suddenly start to enjoy the awful banging of thunder or the rain as it batters the metal roof, but she isn't petrified to tears anymore, and after a nice warm dinner she turns too lethargic to worry.

You and Eddie sit together on the couch, Roan in his lap, dozing. You've changed into the pyjamas you keep in his top drawer, the fabric soft against his naked arm. You don't have a designated drawer and Eddie kind of loves it, all your things mixed in with his like you live here with them. You should. He's asked you twice, but you've turned him down gently each time, unafraid to be be honest about how you feel: I love you, Eddie, and I don't want us to rush into things, don't want to be the evil stepmom stealing her space and her dad.

One at a time, then, he'd joked. First we'll get married.

"You did a really amazing job, earlier," you say, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you've never looked so pretty, not ever.

"When?" he asks, voice warmed by affection, a stickying fondness like the word has been coated in honey.

"When you were explaining the rain to her. You're always patient. You're just as lovely as she is."

He stares at you for too long. Seconds upon seconds, his eyes tracing the cuve of your nose, the bow of your top lip, and the softness of your jaw, up to your eyes again.

"You're the nicest person I ever met," you say.

"Hey, don't go spreading that around," he warns, faux-fierce.

You're answering laugh is like silver sewn into the air, one slow loop of your breath at a time. Eddie can't believe it, this life, his girl in his lap and his love on his arm, warm and cosy and waiting out the storm without any worries at all.

"Luckiest guy on earth," he says, kissing your hairline tenderly. "That's me."

"Luckiest, kindest, prettiest–"

"If you're gonna do this all night me and you are gonna have a problem."

You burst out laughing. Roan rouses on your chest, joining in on instinct, her giggles tiny and tired. "What's funny?" she asks hoarsely.

Eddie scoots forward in his seat to grab her drink.

"We're just happy," he explains.

Super, uber happy, even with the bad weather.

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starzshopoflove · 3 months

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Double Trouble (Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Reader)

request fill for @bringinsexybackk69 <3 hope you enjoy this little drabble!! Notes: fem reader! sfw, chaotic couple, fluff, civilian reader

Soap: getting a girl

Okay, not unbelievable; he's quite the pretty boy. He’ll usually squawk about some bird for a few weeks, then shut up once he’s done with her. Sometimes he’ll bring them around base for a round at the pub or to a government charity event the squad was forced to attend.

Recently, he has been less rowdy and more active. And by active, I mean rushing home as soon as he’s done with work on base. He’s been saying some nonsense about his family being in town.

He’s been more diligent with his paperwork, gathering up the lot and running himself down to the archivist to drop them off before getting home. Not even stopping with the force to grab a pint at the pub or have dinner.

Of course, he does eventually crack and tell Ghost. The poor boy can't keep his mouth shut for anything. Giggling as he unlocks his phone to scroll through and show ghost pictures of you together, his personal favorite being a screenshot of you holding a burnt pan of something thats supposed to resemble food thats been charred to nothingness with the biggest smile on your face, of course paired with a little text.

‘My man is eatin' good tonight. Bon appetit, baby.😍’

Ghost gave him a weak thumbs up. You were gorgeous; don't get him wrong, but for a civilian to be as strange or erratic as Soap meant some screws were definitely lost, perhaps multiple. Soap finally let himself yap a bit more about you to the squad, explaining that he actually wanted to take you seriously and didn't want to jinx it by bragging about you before he could really be sure.

Soap started bringing you around the base after a few weeks, ready for you to meet his friends—well, more like brothers—and Price as his proxy dad. You concerned Ghost more than annoyed him, and you clicked with Gaz almost as easily as you did Soap. Price didn't get to meet you on the same night Gaz and Ghost did since he was held up in a meeting.

Your first encounter with him wasn't exactly charming.

Price was honestly just trying to get on with his day; he was already pissed off dealing with rookies misbehaving. All he wanted to do was drop off these papers and nurse a nice, good scotch before bed.

He stood in front of Soap’s office door, knocking on it, waiting for some reply. Hearing nothing, he tried again. Still nothing.

'Whatever, he's probably pissing or something, I’ll just drop these and leave’

Sighing heavily, he leans his head against the door, bringing a tired hand to the door knob and briefly shutting his eyes, imagining the drink that will soon be his. Hey, he's actually kind of happy right now. Maybe he’ll wait for Soap and take the boys out for a round; maybe that'll make his day.

A small smile cracks on his face fondly as he twists the doorknob, cracking it open. That same smile drops just as quickly.

Oh, what the fuck?

He’s greeted by the sight of Johnny's desk on fire—no explanation, just the table on fire. No, not the papers on the table on fire, but the actual table on fire. Also, he’s screaming, and so is the lady with him. Wait, who the fuck is she?

“PAT IT OUT, WOULD YOU?"

Johnny's shouting—actually screaming—how did he not hear this behind the door when he was coming in? Price just stands there, eyebrows wrinkled as he squints his eyes, barely able to process what he's seeing at 11 p.m. with his brain feeling like mush.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I'M DOING?"

Oh great, now she's screaming. His eyes wander over to you in your screaming match, trying to figure out the fire extinguisher. Johnny's trying to fan out the flame while you're struggling to pull the pin.

"CLEARLY NOT PUTTIN TH’ FUCKIN FIRE OOT"

“YOU CAN SEE ME TRYING JOHNNY."

"PRICE IS GONNAE FUCKIN MURDER ME."

“YOU MEAN THAT, GUY? HI, Mr. Price."

Johnny whips his head to the open door, where Price stands still verily confused as the lady works a miracle, extinguishing the fire while also covering Johnny in the same foam. Panting, you drop the extinguisher on the floor, slapping your hands on your knees. You turn to look at Price, shooting him the same grin Johnny has had before.

“Lovely to meet you, boss!!” You seem to chirp out happily.

"Pleasures are all mine” is all Price can manage at this point.

It seems like thing one has finally found thing two.

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lokisbiiiitch1993 · 7 months

Note

Could I possibly request Loki x pregnant aesir (from Asgard) wife reader? Obviously, the first person they would tell is Frigga.

Thank you ❤️ for the Ask

Trigger Warning ⚠️🚨: a Baby + Pregnancy + small mention about being scared of Miscarriage + sad thoughts

The Pregnancy Announcement

It's been a few weeks since you know about your Pregnancy but kept it a secret from your Husband.

Wanting to wait just a little longer because you remembered what some Woman told you about the first Stage of a Pregnancy,it's dangerous - the Risk of a Miscarriage is very high .

You recall them saying to keep it concealed the first 12 Weeks - but Loki isn't stupid he knows right away something is wrong, you can't keep a Secret from him ,not that long anyway.

He figured it out by your Symptoms the mood changes, nausea, how tired and exhausted you are lately .

Loki knows that you are Pregnant with his Child but doesn't understand why you haven't told him ,he feels distressed,hurt and disappointed.

A few days later after taking a shower you looked at yourself in the Mirror, studied your Body, stared at your Belly and realized you can't hide it any longer.

Unintentionally you said it out loud - suddenly you hear Loki say " Oh ,is that so ?" in an Sarcastic Tone.

Nervous you answered " Loki , I .. listen..I can explain"

" You must have a good reason for sure" he replied hurt

" I wanted to tell you..I swear... I was too scared..I thought what if I tell you and then something happened... what if by telling you about it too early I jinxed it ...I didn't want to disappoint you..to make you sad .. I would rather suffer alone " you explain sobbing - cursing your Pregnancy Hormones

"My Love, don't you dare say something like that,I won't let you suffer alone,never.I am sure everything will be alright. "- Loki comforts - giving you a Hugg and a moment later he gently touches your Belly.

He whispered happily " Our Baby "

"I will be a Father " Loki beamed

"Yes ,my Dear ,

It's late , let's go to Bed , Daddy " you teased him

Two weeks later after your check up Appointment

- everything's alright with the Baby , the Heart Beat , the size -

Loki and you decided to tell Frigga about your Pregnancy - She should be the first to know.

Before visiting Loki's Mother you wanted to show him what you bought for Frigga - " Look Loki , isn't this Romper cute - It says ,I love my Grandma - and the little Socks are so adorable, aren't they " you giggled excited

Loki smiled kissing your Cheek.

A short time later you both went to Frigga's Chambers ,she was already waiting for Loki and you .

Frigga claimed it's been too long since the last time you both visited.

Loki answered quickly " I apologize Mother but my Wife wasn't feeling well lately"

"Ohh is that so ,well I hope She feels better now " Frigga replied worried

" Thank you, I feel much better now but more important .....We have to tell you something" you smiled joyful

"Mother,we also have something for you" Loki added ,giving her the cute Baby Clothes.

"I am Pregnant " you announced

Frigga responds pleased with Tears in her Eyes " I am so happy for both of you.I will be a Grandma soon "

A moment later she hugged both of you - kissed Loki's Cheek and told him how proud she is "Seeing you so happy was all I ever wanted my Dear Boy."

My Masterlist

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redtsundere-writes · 12 days

Text

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 13. Last One Before Leaving

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Some characters are out of characters. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 4582 words. Author's Note: I am going to edit the shit out of this fanfic after I drop the last chapter. I am not sure if I will post the next chapter next week because I have to work on some commissions, but I'll try my best because it will be a long one. I promise. Thanks for staying tuned!

Back to old habits. The only thing I could see in the middle of the tunnel was Sukuna's gigantic back, I could raise my hand and trace his tattoos with my fingertips. I took a deep breath to assimilate that this was really happening. This was my last fight as the King of the Ring's coach. This was the last time I would wear the Team Black jacket. The last time I would march to the beat of Sukuna's favorite song. This would be the last time I would be able to support Sukuna this close. We emerged from the darkness and the crowd greeted us in a sea of applause and cheers. Gojo was at my side with a big bright smile, Yuuji was on the other holding his brother's bench and Nanami was behind me, holding the strategy notes.

After the referee took over to check on Sukuna, he hugged everyone quickly before entering the ring. My lips formed a smile involuntarily at his warm touch. I was so proud of him. I was sure he would excel in this fight as in all the others. I already wanted to see him fight in all his glory. I hope I was good enough as a sparring partner for this match.

"Give a warm welcome to Aoi, the demolisher of champions, Todo!” they announced. “I wonder what song he will enter with this time,” I thought curiously.

It was true that Todo was a famous fighter because of his skills, strength and beefy body, but there was a reason why he is very popular. While other fighters enter the arena with rap songs with intimidating lyrics, Todo enters with songs of his favorite k-pop idols. Nayeon's POP! started blaring from the speakers. He came in dancing to the choreography of the said song with his team following closely behind. One could debate the fact that he was the best fighter in the UFC, but he was the one who puts on the best shows.

"What the fuck is this? " Sukuna asked as he stretched out near our corner.

"Oh, I love this song,” Yuuji told me excitedly as he danced to the famous choreography that went viral on TikTok.

It didn't take long for him to get into the ring. In the distance, I could see Yuki waving with a smile as if we were friends. Poor thing, she doesn't know that Sukuna was about to smash her fighter to the ground. Maybe I should give her a sign. I showed her my thumbs down while mouthing the words “he's going down” in an exaggerated way. That was enough to wipe off her smile.

Todo and Sukuna gathered in the center to start the fight. One last fight and we're off. “Come on Sukuna, show me everything I have taught you,” I thought as I watched him excitedly. This would be Sukuna's last fight that I would be able to watch this close. I felt like a little girl again watching her first UFC fight on TV. I still couldn't believe I had come this far in my career. From being a rank-and-file fighter to being the champion of my division to directly training one of the best fighters in the world. I was proud of Sukuna, but I was prouder of myself.

The bell rang and the fun began. The beasts went straight ahead to try to take each other down with their killing punches. For a giant mass of musclemen, Todo was incredibly faster than before. Yuki must have focused his training on speed since he is already strong. There was a moment where Todo was just lashing out jab after jab without Sukuna being able to return them, but he could get away from him to try to attack him from another angle. My fighter was defending himself very well, but he was eating a punch or two. Plus he wasn't working on his offense like we had practiced before. Something was going on.

The third round arrived and Sukuna was still not improving, in fact, his body was beginning to lose resistance from all the missiles he was receiving. His movements were getting slower with every minute, his defense was fading little by little and his offense was not working. He was looking for any path that could lead him to victory, but they were all covered by the great wall that was Aoi Todo. If this was going to judges' decision, the odds weren’t on Sukuna’s side. “What the fuck are you doing wrong=!” I asked my fighter as if he could hear me telepathically.

"Damn, he's getting fucked," Yuuji commented annoyed with the situation.

Wait, his lucky ritual, is that why Sukuna wasn't in his best shape? Hadn't he had satisfying sex the night before? That couldn't be. Sukuna told me that Gojo had hired him a special prostitute the night before. Did he do something different this time? Whatever it was, luck was not on Sukuna's side. He would have to fight with everything his body could offer to keep his title. And after what seemed like an eternity, the bell announcing the end of the third round rang. There was one last round left that we could not squander.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Didn't you get a hard-on last night or what the fuck?” I asked him offended while Yuuji put ice on his bumps to reduce the swelling.

"What the fuck are you talking about, shut up!” Sukuna barked, annoyed.

"Then what the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled in his face. "I'm going to support you until the end, but please, stop fucking around and give him a piece of your fucking mind!”

"I'm tired,” he sighed as he closed his eyes. I slapped him. Gojo and Yuuji looked at me, baffled.

"You can rest once you give him a final punch! You're about to lose your title!” I screamed to wake him up from the trance he was in. If his luck wasn’t on his side, his anger would be. I grabbed his face and forced him to look at Yuki. "She's making fun of you, the woman who broke your brother's heart and blamed you for it! Are you going to let her make fun of the king of the ring?! Think about your fans.”

"Sukuna has fans?” Yuuji scoffed.

"If Sukuna has a fan, it's me. If Sukuna has no fans, it is because I am dead. If the world is against Sukuna, then I am against the world,” I said seriously, but the brothers started laughing. My cheeks blushed as I realized what a silly thing I had said. In fact, it was the first time I heard Sukuna laugh out loud. He had a cute smile on his face.

"Stop joking around! We're running out of time,” Gojo scolded us. "Sukuna, you've been boxing all this time. Don't be afraid to use your legs. I know he's a little taller than you, but that's the way you can reach him,” Gojo advised him before they called the fighters back.

Sukuna and Todo met again in the center of the octagon and the bell rang announcing the last round. This was no time to blink. Now everything was in Sukuna's hands. Aoi went at him, looking for the same knockout he had been unable to achieve in the last 20 minutes of the fight. Sukuna was still maintaining his guard as Todo directs his fists to his face. His feet were moving around the octagon in a tug of war that shortened and distanced them with each transition. My athlete looked more focused than he had in the last few rounds, but he needed something better than that.

"Come on Todo, let your guard down,” Yuuji prayed out loud beside me.

There was one minute left on the clock and every second was ticking faster than it should. They were bathed in sweat and blood from open wounds. I wondered what Sukuna was thinking in the midst of the chaos. Todo stepped into Sukuna's space to punch him, but he nimbly evaded it. Taking advantage of Todo being in his space, Sukuna kicked him squarely in the face with a spinning kick. His rival lost his balance, staggered backwards and fell backwards on the canvas.

"Go for it!” I shouted euphorically to Sukuna, but he didn't need my instruction to know what to do.

Sukuna pounced on Todo to beat him relentlessly. The crowd went crazy and Todo’s team was just yelling at him to get up. Team Black exclaimed incoherently from the excitement. Todo made no successful attempt to get up or defend himself. The referee stepped between them, announcing the end of the fight. Sukuna had won by technical knockout. The king of the ring got up tired and ran to the fence while the applause invaded his ears.

"That bastard did it!” I exclaimed excitedly before climbing the fence to meet my champion and hug him. "You're the best, Sukuna!” I sobbed with joy. Tears of happiness cascaded down my cheeks.

"Are you going to cry again?” Sukuna asked me, annoyed, wiping my tears with his thumbs.

"Let me enjoy the last time I will cry for you,” I said with a smile.

Sukuna half opened his lips as if he was about to tell me something, but closed them again. I have no idea what she could have been holding back. I couldn't overthink things like that when the king of the ring had beaten the demolisher of champions.

I didn't hesitate to sign my letter of resignation. I was going to miss Nanami's office. The mahogany furniture made a nice contrast to the silver machinery in the rest of the gym. It was a little oasis of calm in the middle of a chaotic place. There were pictures of him with Yuuji, Sukuna and Gojo in Malaysia, collectible action figures of the king of the ring and plaques of all the fights won by fighters in Team Black. I handed over my official jacket, Sukuna's important analysis documents and my key to the gym on the desk.

"It's a pity you have to leave, but we wish you the best of luck in your professional career,” Nanami said to me in her professional voice once he put the papers in their respective folders.

"Thank you for offering me the job,” I told him. "Uraume will be here in a week. I'm sure it won't take Sukuna long to get used to them.”

Having to leave for my gym meant that Sukuna would be without a floor technique coach, so I called Uraume to see if they were interested in the position. They were one of my first trainers when I decided to leave the Zenin temple. They were very strict, but that's Sukuna's style anyway. Nanami thanked me for the time and led me out of her office. As soon as she opened the door, I was in for a big surprise.

"We’ll miss you, snake!” Yuuji, Gojo, Shoko and the rest of the fighters were gathered to bid me farewell.

"Oh, guys...” I said while trying not to cry at how nice they thought of giving me a surprise goodbye.

"I hope you like red velvet cake,” Megumi said appearing in the crowd with a cake decorated with a paper Medusa head and the words “bon voyage” in icing.

"Megumi, you‘re here!” I squealed before hugging him. As soon as he hugged me back, I noticed that his biceps and triceps had grown. The training with his father was working for him.

"Even though he no longer trains with us, he is still an honorable member of Team Black, just like you,” Yuuji said excitedly.

"Thank you all for the nice surprise. I said with a smile while memorizing the faces of everyone present, although... someone was missing. "Hey, and Sukuna?” I asked.

"He went to the CrossFit gym, but you'll see him tonight. Sukuna said you could choose a place to celebrate his victory and your farewell,” Gojo told me.

A week had passed since the fight. It was a tradition to eat at Sukuna's favorite sports bar after every fight he won, so it had seemed strange to me that he hadn't invited us to lunch as was customary. I was glad to know that this time he wanted to give me the choice. In the end I opted to hold the celebration at a local Korean BBQ restaurant.

The restaurant was bursting at the seams. Almost all the circular tables were occupied by Team Black members. My sense of smell was permeated by the meat cooking over on the grill in the center and the fermented seasonings. Gojo and Nanami chatted pleasantly while Yuuji and Megumi filled me in on how their father's gym was doing. A waitress brought us the bottle of sake Nanami had ordered to celebrate properly.

"Come on, have a drink with me,” I asked Sukuna as I poured him a cup.

"No,” he said before drinking from his glass of water in an attempt to ignore me.

"Don't be like that, just one,” I begged him as I poured him a drink. He kept ignoring me. "Do it for me, as a parting gift,” I pouted. Sukuna looked at me, tempting to listen to me.

"Drink, drink, drink!” Yuuji chanted excitedly along with Gojo. Gradually, the rest of the team began to chant for Sukuna to cheer up.

"Just one,” He agreed before taking the cup that had been poured for him.

"Here's to a bright future,” I proposed a toast with my glass in hand.

"To a bright future!” They all exclaimed in unison with their drinks in hand.

"Cheers!” I exclaimed before Sukuna and I downed the glass in one gulp.

"Hey, do you like Star Wars?” Sukuna asked me, slurring his words from the effects of the alcohol.

After he had a second glass of sake, Sukuna was red in the face and started to be funny with everyone. I could see why he had turned me down every time I offered to drink with me. I knew the “he didn't drink alcohol because of the calories and carbohydrates” was some bullshit. The reality is that he has zero tolerance for alcohol. As soon as Sukuna started saying things like “Yuki wishes I would fuck her”, Nanami asked me to bring him home.

"No, why?” I asked him to keep him awake as I carried him to his room.

"Because Yoda only one for me!” He answered before deflating like a balloon as if he had told the best joke in the world. I could only roll my eyes, but I still laughed.

When we got to his room, I threw him on the bed to let my poor body rest. If Sukuna was a big, heavy man when he was sober, when he was drunk he was like carrying 5 bags of cement on my back. While he was telling terrible dad jokes, I took off his shoes so he could rest comfortably. Even though it was wrong for him to get drunk, I was glad to see him so happy. I always see him angry and worried about being the best. Now he didn't have to worry about that, he could be himself.

"Stay here, I'll get you a glass of water,” I asked him before leaving the room.

I looked for a glass in the cabinets and took the water pitcher out of the refrigerator. I smiled as I remembered the stupid joke I had made. Was this the Sukuna I didn't know? A joking boy with a cute smile that made me laugh out loud. It was a shame I barely saw this side of him after almost a year of working together, but I was glad I had seen him before I left. I heard some bare footsteps coming towards me, “Oh no way,” I thought before turning around to confront him.

"Sukuna, I told you to stay in be-” I was about to scold him, but he shut me up in the most unexpected way.

I didn't even have time to think by the time he had pulled me close to his lips, holding me gently by the nape of my neck. He hugged me to his body around my waist, so I could feel his heart beating like crazy, just like mine. I didn't know what to say, think or do. This was definitely not the Sukuna I had met in Las Vegas, this was a sweet, gentle, romantic man. This was the Sukuna I wanted to meet, why was he showing up here and now? His lips said everything and nothing at the same time.

"No, you're drunk. You don't know what you're doing,” I told him before pushing him by the chest.

"I know exactly what I'm doing,” he said with his cheeks still flushed. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the embarrassment.

Even though his eyes told me he was serious, I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him. It had taken me so long to fall out of love with him and here I was, about to throw all my hard work away. Sukuna got closer to kiss my forehead softly. He ran down my face leaving little kisses all over, little love bites until he reached my ear. He kissed my ear and then proceeded to suck on my earlobe. A flirtatious tingle ran down my spine. This had gone too far already.

"I can't, I like your brother,” I said as I pushed him again.

"Yuuji is Megumi's boyfriend.” He confessed. I already knew that, it was so obvious.

"I'm talking about Choso. I promised to call him when I stopped being your coach.” I explained.

"You choose him?” He asked me in a whisper as if he was afraid that someone else would hear our conversation.

That was the real question. I had spent almost a month mentally debating why Choso was a better match prospect than him. I should have told him “yes” for sure, but something was holding me back, and I didn't know what exactly it was. He grabbed my chin to force me to look into his eyes. Those deep eyes that the Itadori brothers shared, but his could stand out in a large crowd.

"Yes…” I whispered. He nodded and turned away from me. At last, I could breathe again. "You should drink some water.” I said before passing him the glass I had poured for him.

“Fine, under one condition.” Was this déjà vu? "You'll sleep with me tonight.”

"I'm not sleeping with you,” I crossed my arms in offense.

"I said ‘sleep’, not ‘fuck’,” he clarified.

"Why do you want to sleep with me?” I asked confused.

"I want to watch a movie with you.”

After Sukuna drank his glass of water, we sat under the sheets of her bed to watch whatever was on the old movie channel. I was really surprised that he wanted to watch Casablanca, I didn't think he was one of those movie suckers. Sukuna looked so good in his half open black robe, leaving his strong chest exposed, and his thick framed blue filtered glasses. I looked back at the TV as I realized where my thoughts were going.

Even though we were a considerable distance apart, the atmosphere we had created felt so intimate. We were like a couple who had been married for over 30 years. There may not have been a spark of lust, but we knew for a fact that we were there for each other.

"I didn't know you liked these movies,” I said with my eyes glued to the screen.

"I don't,” I answered. My brow furrowed on its own at that answer.

"Then why are we watching it? I asked confused.

"Because I have insomnia and this helps me sometimes sleep.”

That explained why he was such a first"rate grump. He doesn't rest well, he can't take sleeping medication because it might show up as drugs on UFC medical tests, and his body has to be active during the day.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?” I asked him while the scene where Rick and Ilsa say goodbye at the airport after spending a night together.

"Would anything have changed if I had told you?” Why did I feel he wasn't referring to his insomnia?

"But what about us?” Ilsa cried to Rick.

"We’ll always have Paris,” he answered with melancholy in his voice.

SUKUNA POV

“What the fuck is wrong with me, why did I think I was a goddamn romantic movie lead?! Those movies are already affecting me for the worse,” I thought as I took out the fury in myself on the punching bag. I was sweating like a pig and my shoulders were barely holding up to the exercise, but that was my punishment for kissing the girl my brother likes. The same story could not repeat itself. Choso was just coming back into my life, I couldn't do that to him. I'm a big, stupid idiot.

"Hey, that sack has already suffered enough,” Gojo said, stopping me. "It's 9 o'clock at night, you've been here since 4 am. You ate here, slept on the stretcher and even bought a candy from the vending machine. I know you're a high-performance athlete and all, but this is too much,” Gojo took off my headphones to get my attention.

Being Sunday night, the gym was practically empty. I was supposed to go home, but I couldn't do that. Y/n was there, I wouldn't know how to see her after I had made her sleep with me. I didn't even want to get out of bed in the morning to see her up close as she slept with her mouth open and her hair matted, but despite that, she looked so adorable.

"I'm fine,” I said. I tried to go back to the bag, but my coach didn’t let me.

"This is because she's going to another city, isn't it?” Gojo asked me. Was I being too obvious? "Your surprised face says yes.”

I sat down on the weight bench behind me and ran a towel over my face to wipe off the sweat. Gojo sat down next to me and patted me on the back a couple of times.

"Don't worry, you'll see her at other sporting events, maybe we can do a collaboration with her gym in the future. You will have many opportunities to see her.” Gojo comforted me. "Yuuji told me that Choso will ask her to be his boyfriend soon, possibly they will become a family.”

Y/n getting married in a white dress, lace veil and a beautiful arrangement of white flowers in her hand. I would be at the altar waiting for her with my hand outstretched to live the rest of our lives together, have children and maybe probably a cat named Garfield. Only to wake up from my dream and realize that hand is not mine, but my little brother's. That thought just twisted my stomach and I slammed the water bottle on the floor from the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it. Gojo was startled by the sudden act.

"I was the one who beat up her ex-boyfriend, I was the one who kept her safe, I was the one who defended her from my mother's aggressive comments! Choso hasn't even done anything for her!” I exclaimed annoyed with the whole situation. I jumped out of the seat to start walking from one side to the other in an attempt to get my anger down. "She doesn't know that Choso stopped wetting the bed until he was 12, that he's afraid of clowns and that he still thinks his ex-fiancée is the love of his life! We slept together twice, I showed her how much of a man I can be, how happy I can make her and still...!” I stopped as I realized that a tear escaped from my right eye and had slid down to my chin.

"Come here, boy,” Gojo said before hugging me.

"She picked him...”. I cried to the only person I can trust.

"God, I knew you liked her, but I didn't think it was that serious.” Gojo told me as he hugged me tightly.

"I can't tell her. If I tell her, Choso will never speak to me again. I can't lose my brother again,” I said as I tried to wipe away my tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. "She was the only one who believed in me. Even when my parents and Yuuji didn't.”

She was the only one who supported me above all things and always made sure I knew that. She was loyal to me, in everything but love. What did it cost her to look at me with those eyes too? She has been the only woman I've ever seen that way, and I was about to lose her forever. I was sure I would never find someone like her ever. They might look alike in appearance like that prostitute in Brazil, but they weren't even close to her heels.

Boxes kept piling up at the entrance. Boxes of clothes, boxes with decorations, boxes, and more boxes announced Y/n's upcoming departure. I helped her carry them down to the moving truck that Choso had rented to take them to the new apartment she would share with her friend, Nobara, in Nagoya. I told her I would pay for the entire move, but she said Choso would take care of it.

"I think that would be it,” Y/n said before putting the last box in the back. "This is where we say, ‘I'll see you later.’” She said before shaking my hand.

I shook her hand for a cordial farewell. This would be the last time I would touch her smooth skin and feel her firm grip. I was devastated inside, but I had to fake a smile on the outside. It was for everyone's sake. This was for the best.

"Thank you for allowing me to work with you. I learned many things. Please watch my fights,” she asked me cordially. I doubted very much that I would see them.

"Thank you for training me, even if you didn't want to at first,” I answered.

"I always wanted to train you. Didn't I ever tell you the reason?” She asked me, surprised at herself. I didn't know what she was talking about, I thought she thought I was a big asshole from the start. "After your fight with Suguru Geto, my first coach, I was very curious to meet you to know the secret of your skills. Now that I know, I doubt I can replicate it,” she said with a playful wink, referring to my lucky ritual.

"We have to go now, or it will get dark,” Choso said to Y/n while hugging her by the shoulders.

"We'll be in touch,” she said excitedly.

The new couple got into the truck, and they didn’t look back as I waved goodbye to them from the curb. I pulled out my phone to look up Y/n's contact to change her name from “Coach ♥️” to “NO ANSWER.”

Masterlist.

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82 notes · View notes

sivyera · 9 months

Text

Dating Ekko but Vi has a crush on you...

so let's start from the beginning (from the start it's kinda boring ngl)

you, ekko, powder and vi (also with mylo and claggor before their death) were childhood friends

but after vander's, mylo's and claggor's death, after silco took jinx under his wing and after vi was put in jail, everything change

you didn't saw ekko or anyone else for a long time, so you were alone

but one night after many years, firelights found you and kinda kidnap you if i can call it like that

you had a bag over your head so you couldn't see anything, but you heard someone walking around you

that someone took the bag off your head, she squinted at the light and then you saw a person with and owl looking mask?

you frowned and you switched to defense mode, asking questions like who is he, what he want, etc..

the person didn't say anything and took off his mask slowly

you gasped when you saw ekko, but now he wasn't as cute as he was when he was a lil kid, he was hot

he released you out of handcuffs and you immediately hugged him, he hugged you back

well after that you talked for hours, telling each other what happened etc

ekko showed you what he built over those years and you loved it

and you loved it to the point that you become a firelight and you were ekko's right hand (but don't tell scar;))

and after few months you two started dating

so ekko now captured vi and had a 'little' talk with her and when they went to release caitlyn from her handcuffs, you were there

you were standing in front of caitlyn giving her some food so she can get a bit energy

vi didn't recognize you at start but when you turn to face her she was amazed, you change a lot

you walked towards her or that what she thought

you walked towards ekko, who was sitting next to her, you bend down to give him a kiss on his forehead

when you bend to kiss him, vi and caitlyn could perfectly see your ass, which made caitlyn blush and vi smirk

vi liked you for a long time but she didn't really thought about love when she was a kid

but when she realized you're dating ekko, ohoho she didn't like it a bit

she was jealous, like a lot but she could hide it well (that what she thought)

she thought that she was better partner for you, she was older and stronger, etc

she tried to restore her relationship with you, because she didn't see you for years, so ekko didn't mind at first

but ekko isn't stupid and he notice that vi is more touchy with you and she is always checking you out

so he became jealous as well

so whenever vi was nearby, he put his arms around your waist or kiss you

vi just rolled her eyes but inside she was furious

vi flirted with you, a lot

sometimes her and ekko get into a fights because of you, but nothing serious just vi picking up on ekko telling him tha you deserve someone mature or a real (wo)man

vi makes fake scenarios in her head when she sees you and ekko kissing, hugging or just holding hands, imagining that she was at ekko's place

ekko would sometimes complain when you two cuddle or are alone that vi is looking at you too much and that you gave her too much attention, i have to admit that he is also kinda insecure that you will leave him, but he just loves you with his whole heart

she would also stare at you, just admiring your beaty and ekko didn't like it, like he agree with her that you are beautiful, but you were his and his only

when he gets more jealous or just overwhelmed with things, he would fuck you all night, make you moan his name for vi to hear and he would mark your neck with hickeys for vi to see them the next day (yk let her know who you belong to)

it kinda affect their friendship because vi is stubborn and she can't give up or take a hint

and ekko definitely wouldn't give you to her, you are everything to him

I hope you like it guys, I thought this would be cool idea and in my head it seemed like it but rn idk how to feel about it:)

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diver5ion · 1 year

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#saint x #alison thomas #not just a sunbather ;c #west duchovny #//#i hope this show didn't jinx #the warriors tho

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welldonekhushi · 6 months

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Okay guys, I'm back and.. I needed a short break after what happened in the MWIII campaign. Words can't express how shocked I was when I reached the end of the campaign and.. it left me in confusion, denial, depression and anger.

I'm putting a "read more" below because, if there are people who still haven't played MWIII, I'll keep ya guys safe.

Our theories before were constantly revolving that who's gonna die and what worse is going to happen.. it first pointed towards the fate of Price or Gaz. But, turns out we were jinxed. JINXED.

The campaign was.. okay but at the same time I felt it was small. Quite rushed. I did have a light of concern over their release date when MWII was currently trending. I was reading others reviews of how they felt about the game and yes, I agree with the same. But I wanna talk about Soap's fate this time..

Soap, who JUST started his journey, like, the one who only appeared in MWII and hoped we would see him more develop in the further games to be just.. killed off? When were they moments away from achieving victory?

So only because it's called MW3 ✌🏻 and you wanted to give us all a nostalgic experience you'll.. give them the original plot treatment? Both Soaps in the Modern Warfare universes.. died under the hands of Vladimir Makarov but in different circumstances.

This is where I got a bit angry at Price because, why didn't you kill Makarov instead of taking him in custody in Verdansk?! That guy is a walking grim reaper, and if Price took that action before, not just Soap but MANY more lives would have been saved. Soap was a man who was ready to take immediate action but always got backed off because of being bound to orders.

The end scene when they took out his ashes.. it broke me. Like, how unexpected this can be? Well, though I know Makarov already gave a warning that he was going to kill him off in the heli scene, but.. it's just not it? Like, honestly, I was hopeful Soap would survive.. it's disappointing for me, as someone who loves him so much, like anything.

So ScarSoap's now an angsty ship? Because let it be for both universes — OG and Reboot, Scarlet's going to be left behind? Welp, I'm more sad now, lol.

Otherwise, the expectations I had for the campaign were somehow, not met to the fullest but let's talk about the good things.

Price killing off Shepherd. YES, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. I freaking knew that he was going to die and my prediction called itself right. But, now that Price killed a 4-star General, he's gonna go rogue. You mean, batshit, crazy and unhinged Price on the move?!

Julian Kostov. The man. Bro, like, when he was featured in the reveal trailer, I was just hoping that he'd play the role of Makarov well and guess what? He did! I absolutely loved how he portrayed the man and he looked intimidating and twisted like a true psychopath. Truly, he could compete with the OG!Makarov and it's proven! Hats off to the actor, really <3

Price DOESN'T die. Neither in my beliefs, Farah and Alex. A relief. A pure relief, for real. The trailers showed him passing out but glad he's good in one piece. But, did that happen for the cost of killing Soap? :')

Graves and Shepherd betray each other in the conference, LMFAO! Who knew they were going to turn their backs on each other. Graves really had nothing to do with this, he was just a man following orders.. the problem lies with Shepherd, and always has.

Now, these guys said we're gonna release the "full campaign" on November 10. You mean.. the early access didn't show much of the story? So there's hope? OR NOT? Sigh, I don't want to think about it.. I just don't. I've been delulu, haha

Anyways, these are my thoughts for Modern Warfare III! What do you feel about it, let me know in the comments!

#mw3 spoilers #cod #call of duty #cod mw #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw23 #call of duty modern warfare 2023 #call of duty modern warfare iii #call of duty modern warfare 3

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archangeldyke-all · 5 days

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Sev with a ver nerdy reader. Very loser vibes with glasses and all. Could you write about how they meet and get together? How their relationship would be and what would other think or do about such a contrast couple?? Xxx love youuuuu

aweee i fucking love this

men and minors dni

singed is a mad genius, you'd never deny that. but mad geniuses tend to get caught up in the whirlwind of their revolutionary thoughts and creations, and they leave behind important things like, you know, numbers. or studies. or a general respect for the scientific method.

so while singed spends his days tinkering in his lab, you spend your days sitting beside him, trying to decipher his discoveries into a language people who aren't mad geniuses can understand.

this is just to say: you're a glorified lab assistant.

you don't know how you caught sevika's eye. you're polar opposites.

sevika fights for a living, she can command a room with a single look, and she's got women swooning for her everywhere she goes. you scribble calculations in a basement for a living, sometimes you and singed are so focused that you don't even speak to each other for days at a time, and you're aware that your glasses, frumpy clothes, and lack of awareness when it comes to style don't exactly make you sexy.

but... somehow, you've enchanted her.

you first met a few months ago, when singed brought you along to a meeting with silco to have you help demonstrate a new varient of shimmer.

typically, singed takes these meetings alone. he likes to keep his science life and his shady dealings as separate as possible-- plus, he knows how nervous you get. but, the new variant required at least two pair of hands to properly prepare, and you were kind of hoping to meet silco's elusive kid-genius foster daughter. singed sings her praises on the daily.

jinx, unfortunately, didn't show up, but sevika did. and you nearly shat yourself, because the woman didn't take her sharp gaze off you for the entire demonstration.

afterwards, when you were packing up in the empty office as singed and silco chatted in the bar downstairs, sevika tracked you down. "hey."

you screamed as you turned around, dropping a vial of shimmer on the ground. she chuckled. "f-fuck sorry." she said, holding her hands up. "didn't mean to sneak up on you."

you pushed your glasses up your nose and just shrugged. "'s okay. i-i'm just jumpy." you whispered.

"you're cute." she'd said.

and then, because you've never been able to be normal about anything in your life, you passed out.

so, the start of your and sevika's relationship was a bit tumultuous. she had to spell it out for you, many times, that she finds you endlessly endearing and adorable.

"during that first meeting. singed read something off his notes but didn't understand, so you explained it to him. just you rambling a bunch of nerd shit, but you made it sound so simple, and you had this sweet sparkle in your eye-- i dunno." she shrugs, then pushes your glasses up your nose for you.

you guys actually balance each other out really well. sevika encourages you to have a bit more of a backbone, you help her see the softer side of things.

she's obsessed with your constant nerdy ramblings. she learns so much from you. she can point to anything and ask you about it, and you'll have an answer.

she'd also never admit it to anyone, but she loves your fantasy books. the nerdier and more complex the better. sometimes, she'll have you read whatever book you're reading outloud, and more times than not, she falls asleep within ten minutes to the sound of your voice.

she's constantly pushing your glasses back up your nose for you. if she notices a smudge, she'll gently take them off your face, clean them with the hem of her shirt, then push them back on your face.

she's obsessed with eating you out while you read or work. she likes to watch you struggle to maintain your focus-- which is usually so laser sharp.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you

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billthedrake · 8 months

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This one I started a few months ago but didn’t get too far yet. It started off as a spinoff of Dads I’d Like to Fuck and took on a life of its own.

THE SPORTS ILLUSTRATED JINX

Doing that cover was how I met my partner, my first one at least.

The Sports Illustrated issue had just dropped. A big cover photo of me, looking serious and posting with my bat, and the words "Miracle Worker" in big letters over my image. I was winding down my rookie season in the majors at the age of 21 and had exceeded high expectations. Life was good.

"Don't pay any attention to that jinx business," a man said as I was out a high-end steakhouse after a game, enjoying a drink in the bar area. "It's all bullshit."

The man was my type to a T. Late 40s, sturdy build, some gray in his medium-length hair, masculine dad-next-door looks. I am often guarded in public, but I gave him a big smile.

"Yeah?" I asked. "I sure hope so."

This man had an easy way about him. Confident, but not overly so. "It's definitely BS," he added. "Look at Trout. Didn't hurt his career one bit." His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he talked, and I had to wonder if I was reading too much interest in them. Sexual interest. "But you don't need me to tell ya that, man."

I shrugged. "Well given how many people have brought up that fucking jinx," I said, "it's nice to hear a different point of view." I extended my hand. "Luke... nice to meet you." I mean, the guy clearly knew who I was, but I wanted to know who he was.

"Dan Ogle," he said, as he clasped my hand with an equally strong grip. In baseball you judge a man by his handshake. Dan was used to being judged. "It's an honor to meet you."

"You in the business?" I ventured.

"It shows?" he chuckled. "Yeah, I'm a scout. Was with the Orioles organization and now work independent."

"Smart move," I quipped. "The Orioles seem a mess lately."

"Ouch," he laughed harder. "That's tough, man." He gave my shoulder a friendly, gladhanding pat for a second. "Listen... I'm here to meet an agent buddy of mine..."

Something about his eye contact made me wonder if I could make a move. "Let me give you my number, Dan," I said.

The way his eyes lit up said I'd made the right call. Maybe he was just star struck. But I'd work that in my favor if it meant seeing more of that sun-weathered face and those sea-blue eyes. He pulled out his phone, and I told him my number.

****

The first drinks I grabbed with the guy was basically a date. We didn't call it that. But we made the usual small talk. Dan knew a lot more about me than I did about him. So I had him tell me his bio. He'd played in the majors a few years and got into the coaching side in some single-A team. Was frustrated by the lack of opportunities there so went into scouting. Was married once, no kids, divorced at 38.

I talked more about what it was like to be a star. Even if Dan Ogle was never a magazine-cover caliber player, he understood me. The benefits of being idolized and famous, and the drawbacks. I didn't talk about the latter with a lot of guys, but I felt I could with this pro-ball veteran.

Our eye contact got heavier as we talked. Like we knew what we were dancing around without coming out and saying it. Finally, I asked, "So, Dan... you able to be discreet?"

Without missing a beat he nodded. "Oh yeah. Absolutely." Those sea blue eyes staring back at me, with clear expectation.

"It's been a couple of months since I've gotten laid," I said, laying my cards on the table.

He let out a playful whistle. "Way too long, Luke."

"What about you?" I asked, finally nudging his knee under the bar. This was gonna happen, and I knew, and I was throwing hard in anticipation.

"About the same," he smirked.

"We should go fix that," I hissed.

"Now?" It wasn't a question of surprise. More, Dan was trying to read what was on my mind.

"If you're up for it... yeah, now." I knew my voice was getting that horny edge to it.

We settled up our check and I went over to Dan's hotel room. I wondered if we were going to have more conversation, maybe figure out what each other was into sexually. I was strictly top or into getting serviced. I normally got my way, but sometimes older guys think it should be the other way around.

But we didn't talk. Instead we met for a kiss as we rapidly stripped off our clothes. I'd barely unbuttoned my jeans when Dan crouched down in front of me, pawing my crotch and reaching in to pull out my cock.

"Damn, that's a big dick," he gasped. And then revealing he did not find that a problem in the least, the middle-aged ex-jock leaned forward and started sucking me.

"Holy shit!" I laughed. I wasn't 100% surprised Dan Ogle sucked cock. After all, I'd met up with older guys who liked to fool around. But I was surprised he was so into it, so good at it. He sucked me fast and hard, like it was his last cock ever. I didn't think that the almost rough sucking would feel good, but it was incredible. Those long fast mouth strokes and that heavy suction were gonna get me to nut, too soon.

"Ease up, man!" I gasped. "I'm almost cumming."

The veteran ex-jock spit out my prick and sucked in some air, as he swallowed that excess spit. "Yeah?" he teased, now hand stroking my bat. "What would be wrong with that?" The man was horny, and I loved how thrilled he seemed to be about sex. No hang ups whatsoever. That was a first for me, actually.

"Come on, man," I almost complained. "Let me at least feel up your body for a bit, you know... enjoy this some."

That took Ogle by surprise. I think he thought I'd just want to shut my eyes and use his mouth or something. Maybe that's what dudes like me had done before with him. Leaning back, he showed off his bare chest. "Didn't think you'd be into all this, man," he smiled.

"You have no fucking idea," I growled. I could unload my daddy issues on Dan later and tell him how I was wired for men over 40, but for now, I just wanted that physical contact with that more mature muscle. "Let's get on the bed," I urged.

I stripped off the rest of the way and ate up the way Dan's eyes feasted on my nakedness and my erect state. Maybe it was the ego boost he needed to strip down all the way and almost pose for me as he got on the bed. His body wasn't perfect but it was pretty damn nice. Strong muscle, just the right amount of hair, amazing legs. Dan had been a catcher back when he played.

His body felt hot to the touch when we embraced. He was a good kisser and seemed to get into the sensual, slow approach. I matched his speed, even as I was horny as fuck and leaking against his furry belly. We made out and rolled around some, and I ended up on top of him. Heart pounding against his chest and his strong grip feeling up my lat muscle.

When I pulled back from our lip lock the 40-something scout had need in his eye. "You wanna be in me, Luke?" he asked softly.

"Hell yes," I growled.

He smiled. "I got some lube in my bag in the bathroom, if you wanna get it. Rubbers if you want, too."

I hoisted my athletic body out of bed and went to get the stuff, my dick sticking straight out like a divining rod. The stuff was easy to find. Indeed next to the small lube bottle there were two foil packets. I loved that a man like Dan came prepared.

I didn't take a condom, though, and I could read Ogle's silent excitement as he saw me empty handed other than the lube. I flipped the cap and squirted the slickness onto my fingers as I got up on the bed. Any other time, I'd enjoy more foreplay and rim him out some. I loved eating ass, and an ex-catcher daddy would be one hell of a feast. But I needed to fuck.

He hissed at the first finger but the second went in like butter. Dan Ogle wasn't a slut bottom, but this wasn't his first rodeo. As I lined up my cock, I was excited to be topping such a hot guy. It was still sinking in that I was a lucky bastard.

"That's good," Dan said softly as I pushed in. His sea blues were looking up, and he was nodding slightly as I pushed on. I knew why. He was tight as fuck and he knew I wouldn't be able to read if he was good to go. Thankfully, he was.

"You have an amazing ass," I grunted as I bottomed out. He was hot and snug and his insides felt alive around my cock.

Dan was horned up, and his dick twitched on his furry belly. He had some love handles but otherwise was total DILF. "I can't believe you're here fucking me," he almost laughed.

I held my body steady for him, his legs on my shoulders. "You ever fantasize about me?"

"Didn't dream to," he admitted.

"But a player like me, right?" I nudged him mentally. "You always wanted to get nailed by a guy like me." That second part was now statement, not a question.

"Jesus," Dan growled, a deep belly growl. "Fuck yes."

"You got it, man," I said and just started fucking. Not hard, but it was a deep steady fuck and I was hung enough for him to feel it.

He stroked as I railed him then let go when he was getting too close.

"Go ahead," I urged. "I'm pretty close, too."

I watched him stroke and I watched his hand work up his pleasure in tandem with the internal stimulation I was giving him. Then I watched the 40-something ex-catcher spew his pearly white seed all over that gorgeous daddy fur.

"FUCK!" I grunted and felt my own cum rising up, all of a sudden. Two months was a long time between lays. I held his legs tightly and humped his ass with a couple of final fast strokes.

I was flush red and breathing fast as I came down. Dan laughed at me some, and I laughed with him. "I needed that, buddy," I said, giving his meaty chest a playful dual fist bump before I leaned back and slowly pulled out.

I had to watch the slight creampie in his hole before it shut back up. A conquest trophy.

"I could tell," Dan grinned as he lowered his legs and shook out the stiffness. "I don't normally like it missionary, but that was hot as fuck."

I grinned, plopping down on the bed. "It was."

Dan gave me one last look, like he still couldn't believe his luck and still couldn't believe this happened. I got that look a lot, and I always ate it up. "Gonna shower off," he announced.

He was back to normal when he got back. A little quiet, maybe moody. I didn't know his deal, but I wasn't gonna find out. I took a piss and got dressed.

"Take care, man," I said as I got ready to leave. He was on his phone, checking on texts or something.

He looked up. "Yeah. Have a good one."

I got the message. One time thing. OK by me. I was a player, a hunter, always onto the next lay. One time things were my MO.

Only the next morning I awoke to a text. Dan Ogle's text, sent fifteen minutes earlier. "I got an 11AM plane to catch. But maybe I can interest you in a morning BJ before I go?"

I texted him a thumbs up and my hotel and room number.

****

It's not as easy having groupie sex when you're into guys as when you're straight. But it happens for me far more than you'd imagine. I just have to be cautious with my approach, feel a guy out. The thing is, if a guy has a remote bi-curious streak, it's almost a sure thing that a star athlete will be able to exploit it. The star struck thing goes a long fucking way, and guys felt excited to be close to me. Even if only for an hour or a night, they were getting one-on-one Luke Fulton time.

My first groupie was when I was still in the minors. But I was clearly a top prospect in the farm system and come Spring Training I had a chance to practice and play with the big league guys.

I was gathering up my stuff after an afternoon game versus the Tigers when I saw him. A few of the guys would meet with fans after, but this man seemed to be waiting for me. He was very much a typical corporate looking dude. Medium height, golf shirt, golf tan, khaki shorts, ball cap, expensive watch, dad sneakers. Meaty dadbod build filling it all out and looking pretty good for a man in his 50s.

"Hi Luke," he said, polite but also forward. "Can I get your autograph?"

That was my first request for one, actually. I smiled. "Yeah?" I said, registering my surprise. "Um, sure."

I walked up and set down my bag. He handed me a pad and a pen. "You're gonna be the biggest star," he said, referencing the pro team name whose roster I was vying for. His gaze was on me, like he was trying to memorize the whole encounter for later. That was my first taste of groupies, the way they might not even be showing sexual interest but they clearly are into me and being around me.

"I'm not 21 yet," I reminded him.

"Well, I've been watching your progress. Ever since the draft." OK, Corporate Dude was one of THOSE fans.

"Who should I make this out to?" I asked, maintaining equally heavy eye contact. Corporate Daddy was good looking in a normal way, and that turned me on, too. He reminded me of the men in my hometown. I even flashed a wink, nothing too over the top, but doing as much flirting as I dared.

"Jim," he said. "God..." he continued as he watched me write my dedication and sign my name. "This is really cool."

I looked up and flashed my grin. "Isn't this what you come to Spring Training for?" I asked. "To meet the players?" Maybe I was starting to lay it on thick.

Jim was gung ho, though. "It's my second year here, but yeah... the chance to talk to you guys is incredible."

His eye contact was heavy and his wedding band made me think he wasn't the blabbing type. I still consider a band the best insurance when hitting on a guy. I took another paper out of that pad and wrote my number on it.

The man seemed embarrassed. "What's that for?" He asked.

Goddamnit. I guess I misjudged. "Never mind," I said, maybe a little curtly. After all, it wasn't any guy I gave my number. I started to grab the paper back.

He blushed, getting it, really getting. "Oh. That's cool, that's man. I'll keep it. If that's OK."

I nodded. "Just keep it private, OK?" I meant my number but also the fact that I'd given it to him.

"Oh yeah," he said.

I gave him one more wink and picked up my bag to walk back to the locker room.

It was an hour later when I got a text. "Hey. It's Jim. Thanks for giving me your number."

"Thanks for using it," I typed back. I was hanging out with some of the guys from the team, about to get some dinner.

I didn't hear back for a few minutes, then I got another text. "I don't normally do this kind of thing."

"It's cool man. I don't bite. No strings no expectations." I didn't have my mojo down, but I knew with a guy like this corporate dad you had to reassure him.

"What are you looking for?" I could almost sense his nervousness on his end.

"That's something better talked about in person," I wrote.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. Then "I'm around all week."

"Tonight?" I wrote. "9?"

"Yes."

He gave me his hotel info, which worked better. I was in a good mood when I showed up and gave a soft knock.

Jim had a nervous, naughty look as he ushered me in. "Hey..." he said as he shut the door behind me. "I shouldn't be doing this."

I got it. I'd met married men with misgivings before, but none as strong as this man's.

I paused and looked at him, giving him my best friendly expression. Giving him an out. "It's up to you, man. I'm not gonna pressure you."

He thought for a second. It was like I knew what he was thinking. Wondering if he'd ever get another chance at this. "I wanna," he replied.

"Cool," I said and stepped up to him. I'm used to seeing athletes and coaches all day, so sometimes a normal build like Jim's pales in comparison. But now that I was there, up close, he looked pretty damn fine. My hand touched his chest through his golf shirt and moved down to feel up his sides. I drew him closer to me, being forward now to claim a kiss off him.

He grunted as our lips met. I slipped my tongue forward and felt his excitement grow as his lips part and accepted it. We made out for a minute, which is the surest way to get my motor running. I was rock hard now, for sure.

I pulled back and examined his handsome face. "I guess I should have asked if you kissed," I said.

He exhaled a breath he'd been holding. "Yeah... that was my first kiss with a man, actually."

I cocked a grin. "Whaddya think?"

"'s pretty wild," he answered honestly. "But good."

My fingers now caressed his side, and I could sense he was getting majorly hard, too. "You done anything with a guy?" I needed to know where I stood.

He shook his head. "Back in college. You know some fooling around with fraternity brothers. A couple of blow jobs, that kind of thing."

I cocked my eyebrow. "You ever give one?"

Jim blushed some, making his reddish tan redder. "Yeah... it was years ago."

I pulled him closer to me, so he could feel my hardon against his own. "I'd very much enjoy getting one, man... if you're up for it." He was warming up to the idea, I could tell, but I wanted to head off any hesitation. "It's just us here. No one's gonna know."

"I don't know if I'm any good," he objected.

I moved my hand up and patted his shoulder. "Trust me, I'll love it." I didn't throw in a "pretty, please," but I was being as gradual and coaxing as I knew how to be. "Come on, why don't you sit on the bed?"

He nodded and stepped back from me. He was rock hard in his khaki shorts, which was a good sign. And as he settled on his hotel bed, his look was one of excitement more than nervousness.

I didn't want to spook him, but I was getting crazy horny. Jim was pushing my buttons big time. I stepped up till I stood about a foot in front of him. Then slowly, I undid my shorts and pulled out my boner.

Some guys comment on my size when they first see my endowment, but Jim just silently watched, eyes going wide.

"It's OK, bud," I assured him. "Just take what you feel comfortable with." I scooted closer so my hardon was an inch or so away from him. His licks were tentative, then less so. I could sense the novelty for him, and the thrill that came with that. I knew this was the last thing he expected to be doing on this trip.

"You've done this before, man," I urged. "You got this."

He nodded and then opened his lips to take me in. He bobbed up and down on a few inches. Jim wasn't lying. He wasn't any good at this. But I loved the feeling of his warm mouth and the wet tongue against my steel-hard dick. And I loved the rush of seeing this regular married daddy servicing me. I let him do his thing for a minute then spoke again.

"Feels nice," I encouraged him. Then, "Just suck me like you enjoy being sucked, man."

That seemed to make something click for him, and he adjusted his blowjob. Jim wasn't gonna be a pro cocksucker any time soon, but THIS was a lot better. He flenched when my hand touched his hair, but when he realized I was just gonna stroke his head in encouragement he relaxed back into it.

"Take your time, bud," I hissed, spreading my stance a little. "Takes me a good couple of minutes to work up a head of steam. But this feels awesome."

It did, and the physical sensations were starting to build up. But I also imagined this guy sucking dudes back home, showing off what he'd learned on me. That was the trigger that got me off.

"You better swallow, man," I growled. Mr. Easygoing was gone. I didn't want him pulling off. Maybe my fingers curled around the back of his head to keep him from retreating.

He grunted. Agreement, I guess. But he kept sucking as I spurted into his craw. I heard a choked sound, but it wasn't an actual choking. Mostly a grunt of excitement as he tasted, then swallowed, as fast I was pumping more sperm into his mouth and throat.

"Damn, that was nice," I hissed as I let go of his head and finally stepped back out of his sucking mouth.

"Did I do OK?" he asked, voice thick with my cum still. Something about that question was adorable and exciting both.

I smiled. "Fuck yea you did." I nodded down to his hard crotch. "You need to get off?"

He unzipped. Clearly, sucking me had worked him up. He spit into his palm and I watched him start pulling his pud. It wasn't gonna take him long, not from the excited look in his eyes and the fast fist motion. I stepped closer and let my dong sway in front of his face.

That got him going. "You got a great cock," he admitted.

"And you sucked it," I reminded him.

"Yes," he grunted, and like that he was cumming.

"That's it, man," I urged.

Our release complete, I stepped back and tucked back in as he wiped himself with a Kleenex. His mood shifted some.

"We good man?" I asked. He could have all the guilt pangs he wanted, but I didn't want a full-on freak out.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Thanks for that.... I'm gonna remember that for a long while."

"If you wanna make some more memories this week, you know where to reach me."

#drakestories

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ravixen · 11 days

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hi! hope you had a good day today! i was hoping if you could do the other svt members for the “idol!reader falling on stage” reactions you did previously. thank you sm!

svt + idol!s/o falling on stage (pt 2)

➔ reaction || idol!au

➔ warnings: none || 0.6k words ➔ notes: fluff ; hiya! thanks for being patient - I know that this has been in my inbox since early february. you didn't specify any members and I only do 3-5 per post for the longer ones, so I chose some myself for this continuation. hope you like it!

SEUNGCHEOL: ooh, someone's getting fired. he's next to your manager, both of them with their phones up to record your stage through the screen. it's only the first run through of the morning, but you put all of your energy into marking your moves; your stage expressions are perfect, and he swears you eat up the camera every time you perform. but one second, you're in frame, and the next second, you're gone. the music continues without your voice, and he drops his phone, confused, until the camera zooms out and he sees one of your group mates helping you to your feet. your arm is slung around their shoulder as you hop up, clearly favoring one leg. the manager moves first, but he moves faster, shoving his phone into their hands and weaving through staff members to get to you. "I got it from here," he grunts, shifting you into his arms and supporting you with an arm braced behind your back, the other making way. your member steps away without complaint, going instead to fetch the nearest medical personnel. he hopes that it doesn't need more than ice, but the way you're wincing is worrying. the broadcasting better hope that this wasn't negligence on their part...

SEOKMIN: he was a little nervous about having a schedule with you, but you wouldn't be the only two guests and the program promised ahead of time to play nice. still, he knew the industry and was prepared for them to make digs at your public relationship. a teasing comment here and there, if not outright insinuations. but he's actually pleasantly surprised at how the cast are letting you all have fun, and towards the end, the show completely devolves into hysterical chaos as he shows them his iconic sogo dance and pulls them into a conga line around the studio. the lights are turned down low, and someone pulls out a disco ball. he passes the sogo to the next person and joins the end of the line. eventually, it gets to you, and you decide to be a little extra. which is fine until your foot catches on something and you land hard on your hand and knees. he inhales sharply, moving to help you up, but you roll onto the floor laughing, hands covering your face in embarrassment. so he does the most logical thing: like in the gose episode of the 12 shadows, he pretends to trip over the same thing and mimics your position on the ground, the cast quickly following suit.

SEUNGKWAN: he told you that you shouldn't do the stunt. he told everyone that you shouldn't do the stunt, but hearing so only made you more insistent on doing it. "I'll be fine," you told him every day leading up to the performance. "I nail it every practice." and you do; he saw your final rehearsal, and even in his nail-biting worry, he had to admit that your fans would love the dance break addition to your latest song. he wishes that he could see it in-person, but unfortunately he has a recording schedule, so he sends you a good luck text and figures that he can binge your fancams tonight. well. when he turns his phone on a few hours later, there's texts from you, with excessive exclamation points, complaining about how he jinxed it with all of his nagging and that he needs to make it up to you. "what happened??" he messages back, but the internet is faster than your reply, and his timeline is filled with videos of you tripping during your flip routine. at least you got a second try during your ment, determined to prove it to your fans. he's just glad you didn't get hurt.

#seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #seokmin scenarios #dk scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #g: svt #m: seungcheol #m: seokmin #m: seungkwan #t: reaction #s: request #idolau #hrts4hanniehae #ravixen

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tkwrites · 5 months

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Before I Meet Your Parents... - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photos from Pinterest

Title: Before I Meet Your Parents…

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC)

Warnings: Crying, Grief, Smut (18+ only), oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving)

Summary: As Sarah prepares to meet Quinn’s parents, she’s bombarded with new feelings and situations, as well as trying to manage her own life. A very worried Quinn helps her get to the bottom of it and does everything he can to make it better.

Word Count: 4,600

Comments: I began writing Sarah meeting Quinn’s parents and realized I was missing this crucial step. Stories like these help me process my own grief, and I hope they can be helpful for you, too, even if you’re not experiencing a big loss. Taking care of ourselves can be difficult sometimes. Please remember that self care isn’t selfish - nor is it selfish to ask for what you need.

The holidays have been…an experience, and while I was writing, I wasn’t finding the solid chunks of time I’ve had in the past. With the busiest holidays done, I was able to finish this, and hope to write a lot more with the break from work between holidays.

Thank you for your patience and support and love for Quinn and Sarah and my writing. I hope you enjoy.

Before I Meet Your Parents…

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The week Quinn’s parents were coming into town turned into a total clusterfuck.

First, there were the Canucks standings. Quinn point blank refused to talk about their position, not wanting to jinx anything. “It’s bad enough that I have to talk to the media about it after every game. I'm not talking about it at home.”

Even without his commentary, Sarah knew enough from reading and following the league stats, to know the Canucks were headed to the finals, bringing playoff hockey to Vancouver for the first time in nine years. It was a huge deal, and if all went to plan, they were expected to clinch a spot in the bracket in the next two games.

His parents wanted to be in the arena for the historic occasion when their son led his team to the Stanley Cup finals in his first year as captain.

In addition to the will-they-won't-they stress of the finals, Lexie Demko had called and left a message for her about getting WAG jackets. Sarah had to look up what they were, and the idea of showing up as an official “WAG” to any game, let alone a playoff game, was incredibly intimidating.

She and Quinn weren’t even officially official yet. She’d been thinking of him as her boyfriend for a few weeks and had no interest in dating anyone else. Unless he was seeing someone while she was in school, she knew he wasn't seeing anyone else either, but they hadn’t formally defined anything about their relationship.

On top of all this, she was prepping for her own finals. Although they were more than three weeks away, the two tests and publication project were looming over her like an albatross. She had to get a B or better, or she would be out of her program, and back home with her education visa voided.

The prospect of the work it would take to finish her semester well, and the possibility of stepping into the world of a WAG and meeting Quinn’s parents had her discombobulated and spending long stretches of time at the aquarium with Walter, trying to wrap her mind around everything.

As she left a couple of nights before his parents were set to arrive, Rick stopped her, “I think your man is at the front desk.”

It felt like she had to suck her mind from a thick fog to even register his words. “Hu?”

“I’m pretty sure your man is up front,” he repeated, “they wouldn’t let him back. Are you okay?”

She waved off his question and walked to the front of the building. Quinn was indeed there, looking distressed.

“Is everything okay?”

“Can I give you a ride home?”

“Sure, if you want.” Didn't he have plans with one of his teammates tonight?

Anxious thoughts dripped into her mind. She knew she hadn't been very communicative lately. Was he breaking up with her?

Quinn took her hand and led her to his car.

Once tucked inside where people couldn’t overhear, he asked, “is something wrong? You haven’t come over to study the past three days, and you didn’t answer any of my texts today.”

She looked at the bag at her feet, feeling far away. “I'm sorry. My phone’s been buried in my backpack all day,” she confessed.

“I just feel like you’re…” he stopped himself, not even wanting to voice that thought. “Is it because you’re nervous to meet my parents?”

A heavy feeling took up residence in her stomach. “No,” she said slowly.

It wasn’t quite the whole truth, but also wasn’t a total lie. Logically, she wasn’t that nervous to meet them, but her emotions ran themselves into dizzy, knotted up circles whenever she thought about it. Things weren’t making sense. God, she felt so… she felt so off. There was more to this mood she was in than nerves, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

His hand, warm and comforting, covered her knee. “Sarah, what’s going on?”

All at once, she was choking back tears.

“Can we go to your place?” she asked, very much not wanting to lose it in his jeep in the middle of Stanley Park, or in her bedroom where Eunice would jump to conclusions and tell her she ought to break up with Quinn if he was making her cry.

The way her voice shook made Quinn gulp. “Yeah, of course,” he said before starting the car and going home.

When they got there, her steps to the elevator were heavy, as if she were dragging some heavy sledge he couldn’t see.

“Sar, what’s going on?” he asked.

Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and willed the tears not to fall until they were in his house.

Just as she suspected, someone joined them once they reached the lobby level. They shared a tense, silent ride for 12 floors as Sarah mentally recited the anatomy of the stingray to keep her tears from falling in front of a stranger.

“You’re kind of scaring me,” he said gently as the door swung shut behind them.

On top of everything else, now she was letting Quinn down. Her hands fluttered up to cover her face as her tears finally broke free.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, taking her arms and gently trying to pull her hands away from her face.

“I don’t know.”

“You…don’t know?” he repeated, a little dumbfounded.

Her hands dropped in defeat. “I don’t know,” she repeated, finding more tears falling. What was wrong with her?

Heart beating faster with worry, he took her backpack off, leaving it in the entryway before guiding her to the couch.

“Are you upset with me? Did I do something?”

“No.”

“I don’t…” he started, then stopped. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. He was really scared now. If he didn’t do anything, and she didn’t seem to be injured, he couldn’t understand what the problem would be.

“Can you hold me?”

He drew her into his arms.

After a few comforting moments - focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat - she was able to voice something. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

“With what?” he asked, running a hand up and down her back. At least they had a clear direction. He could work with that.

“With everything. With school and WAG jackets and…” oh, fuck. Of course this was what this was about. She should know by now. “And your parents,” she finished, breaking into more tears.

“Are you that scared of my parents?” he asked, pulling back trying to see her face.

He knew meeting the parents was a big, intimidating step, but she’d handled meeting Brady, and that first uncomfortable call with Luke and a very guarded Jack with so much grace, he hadn’t expected her to be nervous, let alone so upset. “I think they’ll love you. I can’t guarantee how they’ll react, but they’ve always been nice to girls they’ve met in the past.”

Her head shook slowly.

“I don’t - Sarah I don’t understand.”

To add insult to injury, she had to say it out loud.

“I’m meeting your parents,” she said, looking into his eyes before her face crumpled and she stared down at her hands, knotted in her lap, “but you won’t get to meet mine.” Her voice was a desperate kind of wailed whisper.

Shit. He should have known. Of course that would come up with something like this. His dad once told him every major occasion was tinged with grief, knowing someone was always missing from the celebration. The fact that this would be hard for her hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Letting herself be pulled into Quinn, Sarah wept into his shoulder. His hands were heavy, warm and grounding on her back.

“I’m so sorry,” he said into her hair.

He’d never seen her so distressed. Even when she’d cried the first time he’d seen her tattoo, it hadn’t been like this. Then, it was no more than a minute of soft tears hitting his shoulder. This was so much more intense. He would probably be weeping too if he was in her position.

She pulled back suddenly, her hands braced on his shoulders, “don’t you have stuff with Brock tonight?”

“I canceled it when I hadn’t heard from you,” he admitted. “I was worried something had happened.”

“Oh,” she said, body relaxing.

The impact of what he said finally hit her. “Oh, Quinn, I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, “don't be. I can have dinner with Brock any time.”

“But, weren't you helping him pick out a ring or something?”

“Sarah,” he said, grasping her shoulders, “it's fine. We're doing it tomorrow after practice.”

“I'm sorry,” she said again, shaking her head.

“You don't need to apologize. When it comes to being moral support for Brock or making sure you're okay, I'd rather be with you.”

She gave him a watery smile, hoping it conveyed how sweet she thought that was.

“I’m sorry I didn’t even think about how hard this would be for you,” he said.

Shaking her head, Sarah reached up to wipe her cheeks. Her fingers came away smudged in black. “Oh, God. Now I’m a mess.”

He laughed a little, “do you want to go wash your face? I know you don’t have your stuff, but you can use mine.”

A shaky breath rattled through her lungs. “Could I actually take a shower?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve kind of been putting things off.”

She hadn’t washed her hair in four days, and couldn’t remember if she’d showered at all that morning.

Even though she’d talked several times with her therapist about coping strategies and patterns to look for, when she couldn’t identify what she was feeling, her first instinct was still to shut down. It was so totally different to talk about it than it was to actually do it. The time it took to realize what was wrong was getting shorter, at least. That was a good thing.

“Do you want some of my stuff to change into?” he asked.

“That would be really nice.”

Her stomach gave a sudden, loud grumble.

A surprised laugh flew out of Quinns mouth.

“I’m not sure I’ve eaten today,” she confessed.

Another part of what had her feeling so terrible. It was all interconnected, no matter how much she tried to pretend it wasn’t.

Quinn’s eyes widened. How did someone forget to eat?

“What do you want?” he asked, jumping onto the problem he could physically solve.

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to think.

“Pancakes,” she said, finally, thinking about how pleasant the fluffy breakfast food would feel in her mouth.

“I can make pancakes. I don’t have any syrup though, I don’t think.”

“That’s okay. Do you have peanut butter?”

He nodded.

“Thank you, Quinn,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.

He patted her hip, “let's go then. I'll cook while you're in the shower.”

The fact that he was being so sweet and nice made tears well up in her eyes as she stood.

Leading her into the bathroom, Quinn asked if she needed anything else. When she said she didn’t, he told her he would put some clothes for her on the counter.

The prospect of washing the day off made her breathe a sigh of relief.

The big, walk-in shower was so bright, and opulent. Creamy white and blue tiles made a Moroccan style mosaic on the floor, and white subway tile was in the rest of the…it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to call it a room, that wasn't occupied with the thick glass sliding doors. There was even a tall, thin window right in the shower with a view of the northern skyline and the soft evening light winking off the harbor.

Pushing worries of wasting water or draining the heater out of her mind, Sarah allowed herself to enjoy the rare luxury of a hot shower with no roommates demanding the bathroom.

The water here got so much warmer than it did in her house. Quinn probably had his own water heater, not just access to the building boiler.

Standing under the water, she breathed the humid air and allowed the dam to break.

It was always strange, how giving something a name made it easier to feel and let run its course. Voicing what was wrong was always half the battle.

It had been a long time since she’d felt grief like this. Since it had been so triggered. Things with Quinn were so, so good. Far better than anything she could have ever dreamed up for herself, but being in a relationship still brought up new experiences, and new ways she hadn't yet missed her parents.

Thinking of Quinn made the big emotion in her chest ease. A soft swell of gratitude displacing some of the sadness. She’d never dated someone like him - someone so willing to try to understand. Someone who took her where she was and wasn’t put off by how much she missed her parents.

When Kaleo, her boyfriend in Hawaii, had confessed he didn’t understand why she brought up her dad so much, it had been a slap in the face, and made her feel so alone with someone who was supposed to be her partner. He had basically run away when her mom died, not willing to make the trip to the funeral, despite their dating for more than a year. It had been the final crack in the foundation of their relationship, and a big part of why her return to the islands lasted less than a week before she moved back home.

Quinn was so refreshingly different - kind and compassionate, and willing to listen. The universe had been keeping track of all the sad, frustrating things in her life and finally gave her the good things she was due all poured into one person.

Though she never heard him come in, a pair of blue sweats and a yellow Michigan shirt were waiting on the bathroom counter for her.

When she walked into the kitchen, Quinn felt his eyes go wide. Now was not the time for him to get all lustful over Sarah in his clothes, but it was impossible not to. She was braiding her wet hair, and it made her breasts, so obviously out of a bra, jostle under the Michigan logo stretched over them.

Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he asked, “did you have a good shower?”

She’d been in there a long time - nearly 45 minutes. When he dropped the clothes off, She’d been crying, so he supposed not all of that time was actually spent bathing.

She tied off the end of the braid as she walked up to him. “I did, thank you,” she said before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His arm wound around her waist, and pulled her against him. “Good. I hope these are up to standard. The recipe had good reviews.”

“I thought you said you could make pancakes?”

“I can,” he said, gesturing to the stove where the last of them was cooking in the pan, “I just didn’t have a recipe. At home, we always make them from a mix.”

“And you didn’t have any here?”

A sheepish smile spread over his face, “pancakes are one of my guilty pleasure foods, so I try not to have it in the house.”

She giggled, and a sigh raced through his veins.

A whiff of his own soap hit him, and he remembered what he’d been thinking when he first heard her walking down the stairs.

“Hey, will you message me the kind of shampoo you like and whatever else you need? I’ll order it so you can have the stuff you like here.”

Sarah took half a step back from him, eyes wide.

Maybe he’d overstepped. “Not that you can’t use mine. You’ve just showered here a few times and it seems kind of silly to not have the things you like.”

Also, he was tired of her smelling like his soap. He liked her smell so much, he’d do anything to keep it around.

“Oh,” she said, feeling watched over and considered. “That would be really nice.”

They sat down at the bar counter with pancakes, peanut butter, butter, jam, and a tiny bottle of maple syrup Quinn remembered he had from a gift basket when he'd moved in.

“Thank you for this,” she said, knocking her shoulder into his.

“You're welcome.”

“It’s just been such a shit week, and you’re so…” she paused, thinking and put a peanut butter and syrup coated piece of pancake in her mouth. “You’re so good.”

He blushed and tried to deflect the praise, “so what else are you overwhelmed with? School, and something about jackets?”

A flush flew into her cheeks. “Lexie called me about WAG jackets.”

“Oh,” he said, not really sure what the big deal was.

“I’m just,” she paused, setting down her fork. “Do you want me to wear one?”

“There’s no one else I’d want to wear it.”

“But, are you ready for that?”

“Ready for what?”

“For me to be so obviously… I mean, we’re not even official yet.”

“Right.”

“But you want me to wear a wives and girlfriends jacket?”

“We’re headed that way, aren’t we? I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

Even though she felt the same, a huge wave of relief swept through her. “I’m not either but, if I wear a Jacket to a playoff game -”

He winced, not liking her to talk about it like it was a foregone conclusion.

“Or any game,” she amended, “people are going to wonder. Do you know what comes up when you google NHL WAG jackets?”

He shook his head.

She went to dig her phone out of her backpack, finally seeing the ten texts from Quinn, along with a missed call from her brother.

She really needed a pair of airpods or a watch or something she could wear while her phone had to stay in her bag in the lab.

Pulling up the search, she handed her phone to him before going back to her pancakes, now deliciously infused with syrup.

“Go to the reddit listing,” she suggested.

He scrolled down and clicked on the link, already turned gray from her previous visit. The whole page was speculation about which woman belonged to which player.

“If I go with a jacket, and someone posts pictures, that’s going to throw our relationship into this, and I just want to make sure we’re…ready for that.”

“Are you ready for that? Because it’s okay if you’re not.”

She bit her lip, “I’m not sure. It makes me kind of uncomfortable. It makes it feel like I belong to you or something,” she admitted.

Quinn grimaced.

“I can see how you got there,” he said, setting the phone face down. “You don’t have to get one and as far as I’m concerned, you never do, but I think you might want to talk to Lexie about it first.”

“Why?”

“The wives and girlfriends have a kind of support group. They hang out, and they help each other a lot. Lexie had a baby in October, and I know the other partners were really helping. Organizing meals and stuff like that. From what I know, the jackets are more about being part of that club than about -” he didn’t even want to say it, “belonging to someone on the team.”

She hummed. Sarah had sat with some of the wives and girlfriends at games a few times. They were always nice and very welcoming, but she didn’t feel this kind of camaraderie.

“Lexie asked me if you wanted one, and I didn’t know, so I gave her your number. I’m sorry, I should have warned you about it.”

“I just didn’t know what it meant,” she confessed. “Or if you were, like, trying to say something through Lexie somehow.”

He laughed, “no. I just didn’t want to make the decision for you. I’m sorry if it heaped more stress onto your plate.”

“It’s okay, it’s just new, you know?”

“Yeah. It took me a while to transition. If I didn’t have Tanev, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Who’s Tanev?”

“He was my defensive partner my first year. He was traded to Clagary, but he and his then fiance, Kendra, really helped me find my feet.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Emma about it.”

“Yeah? You guys talk?”

“Sometimes, we’re not besties or anything, but she checks in.”

Quinn smiled, relief filling his bones.

“Do you want me to take you home? Or would you rather stay here?” Usually, he wouldn’t have even asked but she looked so tired and comfortable, he wasn’t sure she’d want to make the trek.

Relief swept through her. She didn’t want to overstep - but the last thing she wanted was to go home. The idea of leaving to sleep in her cold, empty bed seemed like a terrible one.

“I’ll let Eunice know I won’t be home,” she said as an answer. The last time she’d slept over, Eunice had called three times in a row to break through Sarah’s do not disturb, worried she had been abducted in the middle of the night.

As they settled in bed, and she scooted herself close to him, he tried to pull in some calming breaths. It didn’t really work. He’d been half hard all night seeing her in his clothes, and now that she was scooting up against him, he slid way beyond half.

“Sorry,” he coughed.

Sarah turned over, “for what?”

Cheeks flaming, he wondered why he’d said anything at all. “I just…sorry,” he gestured down. “You in this shirt is a real turn on.”

“Really?”

She and Quinn were relatively similar sizes overall, but he was far more rectangular than she was. She felt like this shirt pulled over all of her soft bits in the most unflattering way possible, not to mention the yellow color made her look pale and washed out.

“Yeah,” he said with an earnest nod.

Sarah had been wondering all night how she could properly thank him. Now that the opportunity was here, she had to seize it. Capturing his mouth, she rolled on top of him.

His hands went to her hips as a groan fell out of his mouth.

Every time she went to pull away, he followed her, nipping her bottom lip, or stroking his tongue over the roof of her mouth; he didn’t want to let her go.

She broke away all together and sat up, so she was straddling his hips.

Quinn, who was already out of breath from the kissing, felt his chest hitch as she reached for the hem of her (his) shirt, and began pulling it up. She was even doing that arms crossed skin-the-cat kind of move. God, this was - she was a dream come true.

Watching her ease the blue M over her chest, knowing his name was on her back made him dizzy and he felt his erection press more urgently against her.

He wanted to save this vision of her stripping off his shirt into permanent, long-term memory.

“Shit, Sarah,” he moaned into her mouth when she let the fabric fall next to her and leaned down to kiss him again.

She smiled, happy to be getting the response she’d been going for. She didn’t want to have sex, but there were other ways she could thank him.

“Do you want my hands or my mouth?” she asked. Even though he hadn’t come close to going down on her, she was willing to let that rule slide for now.

“God, Mouth, please,” he practically begged.

She really was a dream. She’d never gone down on him before. He figured it wasn’t something she really enjoyed. Maybe she was just saving it for a special occasion. He wasn’t entirely certain what made this evening so special, but he’d take it.

Her lips ghosted over his chin and onto his chest as her hands pushed his pajama pants down. He lifted his hips, eager to please. She didn’t push them down all the way - just enough to let his hard cock spring free.

Taking a straight journey to where he wanted her, there was no preamble or teasing before she was wrapping her lips around him, and taking him deep.

Her mouth was hot and soft, her tongue skilled as she traced the vein on the underside, ending with a flick at the base of the sensitive head.

She pulled back and sucked on the tip like some kind of lollipop. A soft snick sounded through the room when she released the suction to start again.

His left thigh began to tremble. A few more seconds and he'd be done for.

“Oh, fuck,” he said as she took him deep again, making his eyes roll back.

This was a dream save for one thing: her hair was braided back. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into the soft tresses. He wound them in the sheets instead.

Hollowing her cheeks, she pulled back to the tip. His guttural groan had a deep sense of satisfaction curling in her belly.

Stroking her tongue over the slit, licking up his salty precome, she smiled when he swore again.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned.

A small whine left his mouth when she pulled off him, but her hand kept moving, pulling his orgasm out all the same.

When he came, she shielded herself with her other hand, managing to catch most of his release before it splattered all over her. She was too tired for another shower.

Leaving him a panting mess, she went to wash up and wipe off the splatter that snuck past her hand.

Once she was back in bed with his shirt back on, Quinn gathered her against him, “that was amazing, thank you.”

She hummed and scooted a little closer.

“What do you want?”

“A good night's sleep,” she murmured.

“You don’t want me to return the favor?” he asked, humor in his voice. One of his hands was making a slow expedition down her stomach.

"No, you can do that," she hummed.

She felt his laugh against her skin, and his fingers snuck under the waistband of his sweats.

The pleasure that swam into her veins was comforting. She felt so contented and supported, spooned up against him as he stroked her sensitive pearl. She reached back to grab his hip as the sparks became more intense.

He was an attentive student, learning the patterns and pressure she liked as if he needed to ace this test to pass the class. Even going so far as to work his knee between hers to give himself a little more room without making her uncomfortable.

“Quinn,” she whispered.

God, the way she said his name made him feel like he could do anything - hike Mt. Everest, take on the whole Eastern conference, fly to the moon. He’d do anything to hear it again.

He began to kiss her neck, switching his fingers to circle clockwise. The sudden change in pattern made her clench down and a whine escaped her throat.

“Are you close?”

“Yes. Put your fingers inside me,” her breathy whisper made his fingers tingle with power and purpose.

He obeyed.

After a few strokes, she adjusted his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed gently against her clit.

Her hips moved with him, and she let out a little moan, “just like that, Quinn.”

She began to pulse around his fingers and she felt him smile against her skin as he worked her though the orgasm.

She slept soundly that night, curled up with Quinn, awed by the once improbable and yet very real prospect she might not have to face anything totally alone again.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fan fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #tw greif #hockey fic #hockey romance

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