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harrysonlylover · 6 months

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At All Costs

Summary: The ruthless special agent reveals his other side when Y/n gets hurt in the field

Trope: Agent! Harry

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of physical violence, blood, mean harry, protective harry.

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The training facility was buzzing with agents who rushed back and forth in confusion and fear.

They’re not supposed to be gathered here, this is not where they meet up nor where they should be right now. But once the chief sends an order, no questions are asked.

They bumped into each other like scaredy cats and it was ironic considering all the strength training they were subjected to. The stamina and physical strength they yielded evaporated once he stepped into the room. He’s been stern since day one, only a fool would make eye contact with him or disobey his orders.

As the chief, authority, and discipline radiated off him but this time it was different. He appeared psychotic, murderous even.

No one wanted to stand before him and report what happened, the furrow between his eyebrows, and the clenching of his fists were enough to zip mouthes.

“What is this fucking shitshow?!” His furious voice echoed through the room as agents lowered their gaze to the ground.

It seemed like he was ready to rip off their heads one by one for the mess they made. His left hand was bandaged, showing a layer of blood beneath it. Sweat covered his forehead and his hair that used to be styled was now messy and all over his face.

His bulletproof vest was practically useless. No one would dare to aim their gun in his way; not even the enemy.

“Agent Styles, I—I c-an explain.” A voice sounded out in the back and everyone else moved to allow the ‘brave guy’ to come forward.

It wasn’t really about bravery. Agent Marks was in charge of assigning field agents and pairing them with each other. The order that was given to him by Agent Styles a few months ago regarding Y/n’s safety was heavily violated.

No one knew about the order except these two, and when Marks’ eyes met Harry’s raging ones; he realised he’d probably utter his last words right now.

“Explain what? How you fucked up and paired a little bitch that’s full of himself with Y/n?” He didn’t need to shout, the anger in his voice naturally made his tone higher and more violent.

“I’ll deal with him, sir.” Marks’ voice came out shaky. He tried to stand his ground but there was no escape from the humiliation he was being subjected to.

The room was completely silent. No one wished to breathe loudly, and they set their eyes everywhere except Styles’ direction.

“I already took care of him.” He spat, as drops of venom dripped with every word. His bandaged hand was proof of his deadly anger; let alone the traces of blood on his face and hands.

All agents and trainees in the room cursed their luck for being here at this time. No one expected this to happen and they definitely did not think Harry Styles was capable of caring for someone.

Agents got injured almost daily in the field. If it was a mess up, there would be a small lecture about it followed by intensive training but this? This incident turned Harry into a murderous man.

Y/n took a bullet in her left shoulder and was brought to the training facility since it was the nearest agents’ center. Her injury wouldn’t have allowed her to hold on till they reached the hospital, so Harry sent an order for the best medics to come here.

As soon as he heard the news, it was obvious that something was off. He’s a direct and stern chief, it takes him a few seconds to spew out orders for everyone. But once Y/n’s name was announced as the ‘fallen agent”, hell broke loose.

Stanley Browns was Y/n’s partner in this mission, they were given instructions to raid a drug cartel’s secret hideout, but when the mission went sideways Browns abandoned Y/n in the middle of being cornered by armed men.

It’s a miracle that she survived and managed to escape their trap, Harry’s heart clutched at the thought of her fighting for her life without him being there to help her.

Did she use one of his tricks that he taught her?

“Everyone out now!” A familiar voice shouted prompting everyone in the room to bump into each other as they fled away.

Harry was still standing, shooting daggers at Agent Marks who was already aware of the beating Stanley earned.

The news of how he almost met death spread faster than Y/n’s injury. A few agents found him after he ran away from the mission and handed him in to Harry who was seeing red at the time.

Over five men had to pull him away after he knocked Stanley unconscious. He just wouldn’t stop punching him, his face was unrecognizable and blood covered the ground beneath them. He may have survived, but will most likely never walk again. It took them a while to get Harry away from him as he kept shouting death promises.

The veins along his neck and forehead, his trembling hands, and his labored breaths were enough to make anyone avoid him. At this point, it was clear that Y/n’s injury was personal to him.

Zayn who ordered agents to leave signaled for Marks to do the same as Harry’s eyes darted to the hallway that led to the room Y/n is in.

“Go check on her.” Zayn’s hand patted Harry’s back who didn’t think twice before walking away.

The grip she had on him was insane, and he didn’t even realize it. He just acted on his first instincts when it came to her. There was nothing official between them, not even romantic gestures. It was simply angry sex.

Y/n had gotten into the program one year ago, she did not fear anyone, was full of herself, and challenged her superiors when she felt like it. At some point, Harry had to supervise her and he certainly didn’t like being talked back to.

Lectures and punishments didn’t work on her, he secretly admired her tough and cocky personality. It didn’t take him long to start admiring her body as well, and the rest was history.

No romantic feelings were involved, or so he thought. The fact that he almost killed a man for her did not really settle in. The same way he walked to the room she was in without thinking twice.

She was placed on a bed with medical cables attached to her body. Her shoulder was wrapped and Harry winced once he caught a glimpse of it.

He sat down on the chair next to the bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t bear looking at her face that he searched for during training and stared at in secretive awe.

This should have never happened.

He didn’t want to think about her pain, how she might have wanted him to come for her, and he definitely did not wish to think about what would’ve happened if she wasn’t such a brave girl.

He had a reputation for being cold and strict, yet he felt like his throat was closing up because a girl who pushed his buttons was injured.

He might have gone a bit too far… but it’s nothing compared to the gestures he’s been doing recently, starting from ordering Marks to protect her.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone all sad now.” Her voice made his head shoot upward only to find her forcing a weak smile.

He was up on his feet in a few seconds. “Are you in pain?”. He looked around like frantically for water and pain-killing pills.

“I already took some Harry.” Despite her injury, Harry’s actions were all she could hear about from the medics. Apparently, everyone was talking about it. The news was a natural pain relief, she never expected Harry to care for her in a million years. It was what she had secretly wished for, catching feelings for him was inevitable.

They were oblivious to the shift that occurred between them. More sex than usual, sleeping in each other’s bed and cuddling, sneaking between training, and most importantly kissing. Harry felt like a madman if he didn’t taste her lips for more than a day.

“I know what you did.”

“It was the right thing to do.” He replied automatically as he stared at her pale face.

“It’s always right or wrong for you.” She shook her head in disapproval.

“He caused this.” His hands gripped the bed rail tightly, he was once again reminded of his failure to protect her.

“Agents get injured all the time Harry.”

“You’re not any agent. You’re my fucking love.” His voice was shaky at the end and tears began to well up in his eyes.

Y/n gazed at him in shock, unable to process what he just confessed.

He loves her?

“I—“ He interrupted her by pressing his lips to her temple and cradling her face in his hands.

“Rest baby. I promise you this will never happen again. I’d rather die before it does.” He whispered , unbothered by showing his vulnerable side because he almost lost her.

“I can’t die without telling you that I love you.” Tears streamed down her face as he pressed one peck after the other to her lips.

“You also won’t have someone to disobey you during training.” She earned a vibrant chuckle from him that went straight through her heart. It was rare to see Harry Styles smiling and of course, it would be because of her.

“You know I only like it when you disobey me at certain times.”

“I guess my days of mischief are gone now.” She sighed dramatically as her fingertips held onto Harry’s.

“Oh no, how will you survive?”

“Kisses. Lots of them.”

“Then you will heal quickly little minx.”

Divider by @firefly-graphics

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tkwrites · 14 days

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Elimination - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif by @thombordeleau

Title: Elimination

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Sad Quinn, fluff and comfort, smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), if I missed any others, please let me know.

Summary: When the Canucks are eliminated from the Stanley Cup Playoffs, Sarah offers Quinn a kind of comfort he didn’t know he needed.

Word count: 4,200

Comments: This snapshot has been a long time coming. The idea of Sarah comforting Quinn the way she does came to me while I was driving to work one day, and I immediately wrote it down. It took me quite a while to figure Quinn’s family into the story, including his brothers (yes! They're finally here!).

As I was editing the comfort scene, I found the story continuing in a way I didn’t really expect, but mirrored Before I meet your parents… in a way I couldn’t ignore.

If you enjoy it, please let me know by commenting or reblogging! Your comments really do inspire me to keep writing!

Elimination

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The playoffs were a whole different beast than Sarah had become accustomed to. Not only was the season much longer than any of the guys were used to, practices were more intense and heated, video more in depth, the need for rest and recovery more acute. She knew first hand how tired the team was because she knew first hand how tired Quinn was.

In the first round, they'd lost the first game in the series before rallying to win the next three. The Kings won one more before the Canucks stamped them out with the last win coming on home ice in overtime. Despite the final score only being 1-0, it was the most exciting game Sarah had ever been to.

When she was sitting with Quinns family, Luke had taken to teasing her in that little brother way every time her hands ended up clutching her face with each shot directed at Demko or Talbot.

“Calm down, Sarah,” he’d said, when she jumped in her seat, hands flying up to cover her mouth as Demko barrel rolled to stop another shot from Kopitar.

She'd sent a playful glare his way, “I'm surprised Kylee hasn't told you you should never tell a woman to calm down. That's a surefire way to get yourself into trouble.”

Kylee, who was sitting on Lukes other side, snorted. “Oh, I have. He just doesn’t listen.”

Luke took it in stride and laughed. He reminded Sarah so much of her oldest nephew, Ryan. Good natured, friendly and a little bit goofy once she broke through that shy shell.

Sarah glanced at Jack, who was sitting with his some of his cousins farther down the row. His eyes darted away, as if caught staring at something he shouldn’t.

The strained way he acted around her was getting better, but he was still pretty standoffish toward her. When she asked Quinn what she could do to fix it, he said to just give it time, and Jack would come around eventually. He didn’t think it was actually anything about her, but rather Jack needing time to adjust to the situation.

“I think he finally realized how serious I am about you.”

“You’re serious about me?” she’d asked, all flirty lashes and coy smiles.

“You know I am,” he’d responded before leaning in to kiss her.

So, she turned back to the game, giving Jack time and hoping he would see how much she loved his older brother and that she only meant well.

When Garland shot the overtime goal off a picture perfect pass from Quinn, he managed to catch Talbot above the blocker, sending the puck sailing into the back of the net with a definitive whoosh.

The arena erupted into a wall of sound.

The entire team, clad in blue, spilled onto the ice, throwing helmets and gloves, crowding around Conor and Thatcher.

Quinn was ecstatic that evening. Practically bouncing off the walls of the club they went to to celebrate. Sarah had never seen him so loud - caught up in the atmosphere and moment.

Halfway through the night, he pulled her into a dim corner and kissed her so thoroughly, she actually considered pulling him into the dingy bathroom to have her way with him right then.

Jack interrupted, drunkenly loud, and demanded that Quinn come with him for a round of shots.

Quinn paused, meeting Sarah’s eye.

“Go celebrate,” she encouraged, trying her best to not come between them. She and Quinn could find a spare moment to celebrate on their own later.

With his family in his house, that moment hadn’t come, but she was glad to see Quinn celebrating so heartily with his brothers.

In the second round, after three straight losses to the Predators, Vancouver battled, forcing game five, before dominating in Nashville two nights later, selling their comeback story.

When they got back to town, the whole city was buzzing.

Despite the excitement, game six was awful to watch. Sarah had her hands over her mouth through most of it.

Now that they were fighting to tie, and the Preds were fighting, once again, to clinch the series, Nashville was playing dirty: exploiting every Canucks weakness they could find. They needled, drawing penalty after stupid, preventable penalty until they were three goals up at the end of the second period.

Quinn was exhausted. Sarah could see it in his skating and in the slumped set of his shoulders as they went into the dressing room for the intermission.

She sent him a text, I’m so proud of you.

He didn't reply, but they battled back, holding off all Preds offense and getting within a goal by the time Demko was pulled at the end of the third. Quinn battled fiercely to keep the puck in the offensive zone for more than a minute, giving a master class on body-eye coordination as he skirted the blue line, dodging Nashville players as if someone were controlling him with a top ice view.

Their passes were perfect: tic-tac-toe from Quinn to Mikheyev to Lafferty, but as Sam tried to get the puck to Höglander, the pass was intercepted.

Nashville fought to center ice and chipped the puck into the Vancouver end.

Quinn chased it, but he just didn't have enough in the tank. He caught up just as the puck bounced back out of the open net.

Full of frustration and despair, he smacked it into the boards. Caught at just the right angle, the puck ricocheted back at him, and he had to lift a hand to block it from hitting him in the face.

Sarah could practically see the frustrated embarrassment radiating off him as he skated to sit down.

Demko was pulled again and Quinn managed to get the empty netter back, but through the ugly march of time, the clock expired before they could score another.

The buzzer sounded and Nashville celebrated, throwing equipment all over the ice, all hugging and jumping as the Canucks limped into the dressing room.

Even despite the disappointment of losing, everyone was thrilled to see them get this far. Going from the middle of the pack last season to top of the league this year was no small feat. She knew Quinn wouldn’t be satisfied until they got the cup, but she was so proud of him.

He sent a text, telling them to go home and he would meet them there when he was done with the media.

It was torture for Sarah to have to leave and wait for him. She wished she could go down to the dressing room, but knew not only would she not be allowed in, Quinn would hate it. He would want to talk with her privately.

Everyone was subdued as they puttered around the apartment, waiting for him. Both Jack and Luke were on their phones, sprawled out over the living room furniture, while Ellen, Jim and Kylee were doing something in the kitchen. Sarah was too nervous to even distract herself. Quinn had lost before, of course, but she’d never seen him lose like this — not this kind of a season-ending, brutal loss.

When the elevator dinged, Sarah jumped to her feet, his family following suit, clambering into the living room.

To her surprise, Quinn came straight to her, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. His suit was rumpled, his tie attempting to slither out of his breast pocket. When she wrapped him in her arms, he practically collapsed against her.

Ellen knew Quinn loved and trusted Sarah and that he spent far more time with her these days, but it was still a bit shocking when he bypassed them all to go straight to her for comfort.

Sarah reacted in a way Ellen never had and upon seeing the scene play out, she realized Sarah’s reaction may have been something Quinn had been longing for for a long time.

She would usually hug him for a while, before talking him down. They would soon end up dissecting shifts and plays. He would lament how he could have been better, and she would try to comfort him while still being realistic.

Sarah just stood there, holding him. She didn't say a word, even when Quinn started to cry softly. She just ran a hand into his wet hair, while the other traveled slowly up and down his back.

She didn't assure or placate him, or even try to get him to stop crying. She just let him express the emotion without judgment or commentary. It hit Ellen suddenly that Sarah reacted this way because she had dealt with so much sorrow in her life, she knew how to comfort in these hard moments.

The family stood by and watched. She didn’t look up and meet their eyes with a conspiratorial, he’ll be alright, look, or invite them into the embrace. Her whole intention was focused on Quinn.

While it was sweet to see them together in this way, it was also a little awkward to watch, especially for the boys, who looked like they had no idea what to do.

It was full minutes before anyone said anything, and even then, it was just Sarah asking if he wanted to sit down. He shook his head so she did a little two-step, and kept on.

As Ellen watched them interact, it was obvious how much they meant to and understood each other. It was so sweet to witness her son finding the person he needed that she pulled out her phone to record them, wanting to document the moment.

When they finally spoke, Ellen was glad she was filming.

“I let everyone down,” Quinn said, his voice choked with emotion, just above a whisper.

“No.” Her voice was quite loud, the word definitive, leaving no room for doubt. It was a bit shocking to hear Sarah be so forceful.

Taking his jaw, she gently lifted his head up so he had to look into her eyes.

“No,” she repeated, her voice a little softer now. “This wasn't only your fault, and it didn't happen because of anything you did by yourself.”

Ellen wasn’t sure she would go that far… If he had gone for a change, someone with fresh legs may have been able to chase down that empty netter.

“You don’t win as a team, but lose by yourself. That’s not how this works.”

Now she understood where Sarah was going.

“I know this run is ending sooner than you wanted and I'd be more concerned if you weren't sad.” She paused for a long moment, looking into his eyes as if she was searching for something. When she didn’t find it, she continued, “I just - I want you to remember that I don't love you because you play hockey.”

His lower lip trembled and Ellen felt hers do the same.

“I love you because of this big, kind heart,” she said as she pressed a hand to his chest, “and because of this brilliant, thoughtful mind,” her other hand slid into the hair at his temple. “And those are the same as they were this morning. You're so much more than hockey.”

He was looking at her like she'd hung the moon.

Ellen felt tears slip down her own cheeks. All her life, she’d been trying to strike a balance with her boys - trying to find the right way to tell them hockey was just a part of who they are. And here Sarah was, walking into their life, and saying the exact thing Ellen had been trying to say all along.

Right then and there, the remaining reservations she had about Sarah were swept onto the back burner. She knew it would still take some getting used to, but how could she not love this woman standing in front of her, telling her son she loved him for who he was and not for the things he did? It was all she could ask for as a mother.

She glanced over at Jack, who looked a little dumbfounded, as if seeing Sarah for the first time. Luke was smiling in a glad, knowing way, his arm looped around Kylee.

Jim, standing on Ellen’s other side had a mixture of pride and disappointment on his face. Ellen knew he was going to battle with himself at the thought of Quinn crying over being eliminated. When they were kids, he would have told the boys to buck up, despite Ellen’s insistence it was okay for them to express their sadness for a little while.

The happiness at seeing someone accept Quinn as he was won out, and Jim put his arm around Ellen with a conspiratorial smile.

“Of course you’re going to be sad,” Sarah continued. “Like I said, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. But you,” she poked him gently in the chest to emphasize her point, “sure as hell didn’t let me down.”

Quinn threw his arms around her in a fierce hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He wiped at his eyes, then turned to the family. They embraced him one by one.

After she’d hugged Quinn, Ellen went to Sarah, “I don’t know how you did that,” she said, pulling her close, “but that was exactly what he needed.”

When Quinn made his way back to Sarah, he kissed her temple. His eyes were still red, cheeks still splotched with color, but he looked settled. Not satisfied or happy, really, but settled.

Later that night, Ellen sent the video to her sister, making her promise to not share it with anyone. She just needed someone else to see the tenderness.

Oh, Elle, I'm so glad Quinn finally found a good one. I can't wait to meet her.

At the same time Ellen was texting her sister, Quinn was lying next to Sarah in bed. Her words from earlier replaying over and over again in his thoughts.

He'd practically begged her to stay over. She hadn't planned to with his family in the house, but he felt a bit needy and wanted the comfort of her next to him.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, turning to her.

She rolled onto her side so they were face to face. “I'm always gonna be in your corner, Quinn.”

Leaning in, he kissed her - gently at first, but it soon turned more passionate.

The fact that they would be apart before too long was on both their minds as they made love that night.

“Oh, Quinn. Right there, right there,” she chanted, voice soft.

The simple fact that he could make her feel this way made his heart feel full to bursting. At least he hadn't lost that.

Keeping eye contact, his hand traced to her left knee and pulled it up over his hip. He didn’t want her to have the same old orgasm. Not tonight. A big part of him wanted to prove he could still excel here.

Head tipping back, Sarah panted.

His other hand came up to guide her chin back down.

The way she clenched around him when their eyes met made his hips stutter.

She lifted herself up to catch his mouth. It changed the angle of his thrusts, making his whole body quiver. He tried to brace against it, slowing down and concentrating on kissing the breath out of her.

It worked in that they were both breathless before too long, but didn't ease the feeling of being pulled to the very edge of his restraint. The competitive streak inside him wasn't about to allow himself to come before she did - especially not tonight, when he had so much left to prove.

“No,” she gasped when he pulled away. “I was right there.”

He laughed into her skin. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he said, before tracing his mouth over her clavicle and trailing his tongue between her breasts, savoring the salty taste of her skin.

The blankets pulled with him as he settled between her legs, and Sarah gasped as the cool air of his room hit her.

She looked so ethereal in a pool of soft light from one of the skylights, her chest rising and falling at a hurried, steady pace.

“God, you're beautiful,” he whispered.

Times like these, Quinn still wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to find Sarah. She seemed to be his perfect match in every way. It wasn’t always smooth sailing - nothing ever was. This summer was sure to take a toll on their relationship. He knew, somehow, they would come out on the other side, better and stronger, but all the same, he wasn’t looking forward to spending so many nights without her.

Pushing that worry out of his mind, he concentrated the task at hand and lowered his mouth to her hot center.

It was his turn to give thanks.

She was acutely aware of his family in the apartment: brothers on the floor below, while his parents were down the hall. They were never particularly loud in bed, but the thought of his family overhearing hushed her vocal cords even more.

“Quinn,” she whimpered.

He ate up every whisper, every little whine and panted breath, knowing they were just for him.

Making some unintelligible noise, her back arched, lifting off the mattress.

She whined when he eased two fingers into her and lifted his mouth.

“Help me find it?” he whispered, crooking his fingers.

“Higher.”

He moved slowly, not wanting to go too fast and pass over it.

“There, there,” she panted.

Reaching up with his free hand, he disentangled her fingers from the sheet so he could grasp her hand, linking them together.

“You can press a little harder. It’s not as sen -” her voice broke off into a groaned, “oh, fuck,” as he urged that soft, spongey spot with a heavier touch.

They’d done this more after his revelatory first time, and he loved discovering new things about her. He still had a hard time finding her g-spot on his own, but he was learning. Tonight felt like a whole new ego stroke, one he was seeking if he was being honest with himself.

His mind wandered back to the first time he’d touched her, the way she’d reminded him of Helen of Troy - beautiful beyond belief. He ached for her the same way now as he watched her fall apart. Mouth dropped open as her body pulled taught as a bow string, one hand grasping the headboard for stability while the other clutched his like a vice.

As she came down from her high, he kept his fingers pressed into her.

Even as she squirmed against the sensitivity from his strong touch, she felt a blaze of pleasure reignite in her belly, faster than it ever had before.

Still kneading with his fingertips, he lowered down, sucking her sensitive pearl into his mouth. She let out a strangled cry that left him dizzy with satisfaction.

The contrast of his warm mouth and soft tongue on her core against the harsh rasp of his playoff beard on her inner thighs wound her tighter and tighter until he was sparking so much ecstasy in her body, she couldn't quite remember why she was trying to be so quiet.

Her fingers tightened in his at the same time her legs trembled and he knew she was close. He continued on, mouth soft and steady while his fingers worked with more focused intent.

The way she whimpered his name made him groan and rock his hips into the mattress to get a bit of relief.

When the tension in her pelvis finally snapped, Sarah cried out.

It was only after she came back to herself and he eased his fingers from her that she worried about how loud she'd been.

Before she could ask, he knocked her breathless again as he slid his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with apparent relish.

“Did I yell?” she whispered as he crawled back over her.

He shook his head, “not too loud. I don't think they heard.”

The anxiety ebbed away as he leaned in to kiss her.

“Can you turn over?” he asked, lips barely grazing hers.

She pulled back to look into his face.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said.

“You already did. Twice.”

“Please?” he asked, ghosting his lips over her cheek, “let me make you come one more time.”

In reality, Quinn was tired, but his pride was insistent, eager to feel her again and he knew if he got her on her stomach she’d come faster than in missionary.

He could see worry in her expression, but she did as he asked, the sheets clinging briefly to her back as she rolled.

One of his hands grazed down her side, following the curvature of her hip before tracing her hamstring all the way to the knee. Hooking his hand there, he eased her leg out to the side.

He really was spoiling her. Eagle with a broken wing was her favorite position other than missionary, but they didn’t do it terribly often, both generally preferring to see the other when they were together.

She felt Quinn’s heat before any of his skin, and raised her hips slightly to facilitate him.

“You’re —” she broke off into a groan as he eased into her again. She was so sensitive, she was fairly certain she would have fallen apart all over again if he had given her an intense enough look. Heat was already climbing up her spine and he hadn't even moved yet.

His hands appeared near hers as he braced on his forearms. She moved to lace her fingers through his.

When he began to thrust, he felt her fingers curl until her nails kissed his palms

Listening to her sweet sounds, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to live in her forever.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, chaos sparking all over her skin. “I didn't think I could come this many times so quickly.”

Her hushed statement rushed to his head. “Sarah,” he moaned into her neck. “Fuck, Sarah.”

His mouth traced the curve of her neck before gently biting the ridge of her shoulder.

The prick of pain from his teeth combined with the way he was hitting her g spot in a steady, continuous rhythm had Sarah’s mouth falling open. “Oh. Quinn,” she moaned. “Just like that. Please don't stop.”

Feeling out of his mind with pleasure and pride, he rested his forehead on her back.

Only after he felt her tremble and pulse around him and chanting that he loved her, he let himself go, spilling into her with a loud groan he tried to muffle into her skin.

They stayed that way for a long while, his sweaty chest pressed into her back. He was a comfortable weight, pressing her into the mattress.

Quinn talked himself into moving and eased out, his wince matching the breath she hissed through her teeth. Before he could decide which side to roll onto, she was turning onto her back, and pulling him into her embrace.

Resting his head on her chest, he sighed.

Sarah smiled, tired but gratified and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, but waited, knowing Quinn needed this extra affection.

“I don't…” he started to say, then trailed off, slowly tracing a circle around her belly button.

He had never felt supported and loved like he had today. Not only when she just let him cry, but when she reminded him that she loved the things about him that weren't his job.

Quinn hadn't known how much he needed to hear Sarah’s words until she was saying them. His whole family was so entwined in hockey that, even though he knew his parents loved him, it sometimes felt like his success and failure in the arena were wrapped up in their affection and approval. It was one of the reasons Jack always felt like the favorite child, as he had the most natural talent.

“You don't?” she urged when he didn’t say anything else.

He shook his head and took a steadying breath. “I feel like I don't deserve you.”

A little smile played on her lips, “I feel that way sometimes, too, but I'm not really sure it's about deserving. Everyone deserves love.”

She paused for a long time playing with his hair. It relaxed Quinn, causing him to practically melt into her.

“I'm glad we're both willing to put in the work and try to meet in the middle,” she said quietly.

He agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her breast.

As they stayed that way for a long time, Quinn felt cocooned in her love and hoped she felt the same.

“Okay,” she said a little while later, starting to feel sticky and itchy, “I’m sorry, but I really need to shower, or at least rinse off.”

They took a quick shower, and Quinn changed the fitted sheet as she redid her skincare.

When they finally fell asleep tangled together, she in a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, and he in his boxers, it was well after three.

After sleeping like the dead, Quinn woke close to ten, still feeling that strong swell of gratitude easing the disappointment in his chest.

If anyone in his family had heard them, they were all excellent actors, and didn't say a thing.

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 fanfiction #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes smut #qh43 #jack hughes #luke hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey romance #hockey fic

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pennylanefics · 10 days

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New Job - Jeremy Swayman

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing for hockey, so please be aware :) i am a baseball girlie through and through but thanks to tiktok i now have a new obsession and new crushes, which means new motivation to write :D

summary: refer to this request

word count: ~2.6k

A new city, a new team, and a new opportunity. It was all so exciting, but that also came with stepping out of your comfort zone.

With your new position as a photographer for the Boston Bruins, you were being introduced to everyone on the team, every manager, every coach, a ton of people. However, you were a very shy person, preferring to keep to yourself most of the time; it’s why photography was perfect for you.

But it was all part of the job, to get to know the people you are photographing and allow them to trust you and feel comfortable around you, enough for them to smile for the camera and not ignore you. And you would be absolutely crazy if you turned this offer down, sports photography is your dream, and to be able to live it every day was wonderful.

This whole process was a regular occurrence for you, as you had bounced around a few teams, so it was nothing out of the ordinary, but things felt different this time around. When it was time to finally meet the team before practice one day, you sat near the entrance where players come in, with the other photographer who was “training” you, in a sense, and showing you around the arena and such.

Everyone was very nice and friendly, asking where you came from, how long you’ve been doing this, getting to know you a little bit better, it was great. But when Jeremy Swayman walked in, everything lit up. He was on his own, a black backpack on his back, a beanie covering his hair, but he had a huge smile on his face.

“Hello, hello!!” He begins to walk you and Cindy, the other photographer by your side. “You must be new.” He stops in front of you and reaches his hand out.

“I’m (Y/N), I’m the new additional photographer for the team,” you introduce yourself, shaking his hand. Both of you pause as your hands meet, taking notice of how warm and soft his skin is, gazing into his eyes as you do.

“I’m Jeremy, it’s nice to meet you. So you’ll be the one following us around with a phone and asking us questions as we walk into practice?” He teases, nudging your arm gently, feeling comfortable doing so.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” you chuckle, looking down at your camera. “I’ll be the one up in the rafters taking aeiral shots and be on the sidelines during games,.” His eyes widen in surprise as you describe part of your duties.

“Are you serious? That’s sick.” Since no one else was coming in right now, you took a moment to show him some of your popular photos with other teams, one of which being a shot from above after the Florida Panthers beat the Carolina Hurricanes, sending them to the Stanley Cup, confetti falling all around the rink, the team crowding together to celebrate.

“Wait, I saw this photo! The NHL posted it in like a photo dump they did of that week’s games. This is yours?”

“Yeah, all mine,” your face heats up a little at how excited he is. There was no denying it, Jeremy is a very handsome man, and you had to admit, when you got into photographing hockey, he was one of the first players that you had a small crush on.

“Well, you’re incredibly talented,” he compliments, sending you a wink while beginning to walk away. “See you around, (Y/N)!” He threw up a piece sign and was off to the locker room to get ready for practice.

“Jeremy’s the sunshine of the team, literally,” Cindy finally says, the last few players finally coming through the doors, both of you pausing to snap some candids.

“He is?”

“He always has a smile on his face and is almost always in a good mood. So if you need cheering up, he’s the one to go to.”

“Isn’t that unprofessional, though?”

“Not here. I’ve been with this team for years, they do things a little differently. They enjoy getting to know the media and those that work around them, becoming work friends and such. But if that’s uncomfortable for you, feel free to tell them, or me. I’ll put a stop to it.”

“No, no, it’s alright. It’s nice that they treat photographers and others not within the actual team like human beings,” a chuckle escapes you, deciding that keeping your mouth shut regarding how a team you previously worked for outside of the NHL was like.

Your first game went quite well, the Bruins ended up winning against the Colorado Avalanche, giving you the perfect opportunity to capture the iconic goalie hug between Jeremy and Linus. With your camera lined up, Jeremy comes into view and skates right to Linus, you snap photo after photo, not taking your finger off the shutter button.

After they skate off the ice, you smile to yourself, knowing you got some good ones. Finding Cindy in all the chaos of fans cheering and trying to leave, she guides you down the tunnel and back to the makeshift office that’s usually set up for the media.

She goes through all the steps of how to upload the photos for the editors, and even though all of it was pretty similar to other teams, it was nice having a refresher and getting to know their way of doing things. She describes the process of what is expected after games, setting everything up that you would need, and making sure you had everything and were ready to go for their next game in a couple days.

As time goes by, you start to get the hang of things with your new team. Everything was going smoother than you expected, you were quickly finding your place here, and it was all working out so well.

One night, after a rather tough loss to the Leafs, you sat in the media room, scrolling through the photos you took throughout the game, exhaustion setting in, the long day finally catching up with you. Suddenly, a soft knock sounds, your body turning around on instinct to find the source.

There stands Jeremy, a smile on his face, clean and dressed in his post-game clothes.

“How’d the photos come out?”

He made a small habit of doing this. On his way out of the stadium after games, he would make a stop by your office, saying hi and asking if he could see some photos. You would always tell him that the raw photos aren’t going to be the best and there would be a ton to look through every time, but he didn’t care.

He claims to enjoy your company and the peace and quiet of the office after such intense games. But you were your normal self, not very talkative, doing your job as you would if he was not beside you, and oftentimes forgetting that he was even there.

“So, what’s your postgame routine? What do you like to do once you get home?” Jeremy asks as you pack your things up, carefully placing your camera in its protective bag. After shutting your laptop down, you slide it into the case, and then the case into your backpack.

“I sometimes get food on the way home, or I head straight home, shower, get ready for bed, and then read or scroll on social media, depending on what I’m in the mood for,” you explain softly, gathering all of your things, wanting to head home.

“What kind of books do you like?” He was wanting to make conversation, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were far too burnt out from running around the arena, especially since you’ve been here since early in the morning.

“Mainly romance and fantasy,” you grin. Jeremy doesn’t seem deterred by your short response, but he can tell, just by your body language, that you’d like to get going.

��That’s a nice way to escape the world after days like this. Well, I’ll see you around, have a nice night,” he smiles and waves at you as he exits the room, leaving you on your own.

That’s how things continued for every game. You ended up telling Cindy one day, and she couldn’t help but laugh; since you were with the media team, you got to room together at hotels for away games. The team was in Seattle to play the Kraken, and since it was a late game, you didn’t need to be at the arena until closer to four.

That’s how the two of you ended up sharing experiences you’ve had with the team and specific players, and Cindy lands on none other than the brunette goalie.

“Sway has actually told me that he’s been sitting with you while you browse through the photos after games,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner. Your face heats up at her statement, and you hide your face in your hands.

“He, uh, he does. I told him it’s nothing special, but he insists it’s a nice way to decompress.”

“He told me that you’re quiet,” she says. You freeze and stare at her. Immediately, her eyes widen and she feels embarrassed. “Oh! No, no, I didn’t mean to make it sound like he said it in a bad way. But he…okay, don’t tell him I told you this, but he thinks it’s sweet. I promise. And, it is pretty cute.”

“What is?” You wonder. Your heart was racing with all of this, you didn’t think Jeremy thought of you in that way, but here you were.

“You know, the sunshine, golden retriever boyfriend and the black cat girlfriend. You’re grumpy, he’s sunshine.”

“I’m not grumpy,” you defend, crossing your arms. “Just…quiet.”

“Exactly. Jer really enjoys being with you, from what he’s told me. And he said you even let him edit some photos?” You chuckle softly and look down at your hands that relaxed in your lap.

“I let him edit some of him and Linus for fun. I didn’t send them off to the actual editors or social media team, I promise, it was a little-”

“I think you should,” she cuts you off, her eyes lighting up. “That would be such a neat idea, if we let the players edit photos of themselves and send them to the admins for their socials!” She starts going on and on about the idea and how it would be such a fun concept, if the players even want to participate.

“We’ll have to ask either during arrivals or on the plane tomorrow if they’d be up for it.”

She continues on, but your mind was on Jeremy, he thought you were charming and sweet, and that’s all you cared about.

After the game ends in another loss, right on time, Jeremy steps into your little makeshift office, and you were more than prepared for him this time.

“Am I allowed to see these shots tonight? Or should I wait until they’re posted in an article?” He wonders. You chuckle quietly and shake your head. He had mentioned to you the last time that he reads articles here and there just for the off chance that your photos are included. And you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your heart when he told you this.

“I got a pretty good one of you making a save in the first period,” you say, turning your laptop towards him to show him. His left leg was stretched out just as the puck makes contact with the padding, blocking it and shoving it away.

“Shit, who knew I’d look so good making saves,” he jokes, running a hand over his slightly damp hair, having showered already.

You laugh with him and turn the laptop back, remembering what you and Cindy talked about earlier in the day.

“I think I already know your answer for this, but Cindy and I were talking and she thinks it would be fun to get you and the guys to maybe edit some photos, like you did, but they would actually be posted. With credits for the editing, of course,” you tease. Just like Cindy, his eyes light up in amazement.

“Hell yes!” He immediately responds, scooting closer to you to look at any more photos he could edit. “Can I do like five? Because one was not enough, I wanna do more.” You can’t help but smile at his eagerness, allowing him to scroll through some of the better photos you’ve taken the past few games.

“You can do as many as you’d like but I can’t promise they’d all get posted. If you want to ask the guys if they’d be interested, I’ll have one person come in here after every game and edit, and then we’ll have a collection in a few weeks to post.”

“Uh, I think it would be a good idea, but…” he starts, but pauses his train of thought, his hand coming up to tug at his lip as he silently decides if he should continue.

“But…what?” You push, hoping he would just speak his mind.

“I like this being our thing,” he murmurs, shy, almost. He doesn’t meet your eyes, and this is a different side of Jeremy you haven’t seen before.

“What?” You are very lost with what he’s trying to say, but you give him time to explain himself.

“I like having this time with you, after games. It’s become a routine for me, something I look forward to, and I really love being in your presence, especially after tough games that end in losses. It’s like you reading fantasy books, it takes you out of reality, and for a time, I can forget that I took part in a loss for my team and take my mind away from it.”

“By looking at photos of said game?” You counteract. But Jeremy sees your point. How can he be taken away from a game his team lost when he’s actively looking at photos of them losing from the entire night?

“By…being around you,” he whispers, looking up at you. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire at this point. Was he being serious? “Spending time with you, everything else disappears. And I know that sounds cheesy and we don’t fully know each other aside from talking about your work and such, but, if you are up for it, I’d like to take you out on a real date.”

Now you were beyond confused, but thoroughly surprised in a good way. And by your reaction, or lack thereof, he must have assumed you weren’t interested, because he immediately deflects.

“Or, if you prefer we keep things professional, that’s totally okay. I understand you work for the team and it would complicate things, but-”

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Sway,” you reply, a small smile stretching on your face. He slowly grins and leans closer to you.

“Really?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah. I think you’re a very wonderful guy and I’d love to get to know you outside of this…informal and professional setting, let’s put it that way,” you laugh, turning towards him to let him know you were serious.

“Good. Because I think you’re very cute and I need more than these after-game meetings,” he replies, a bright smile on his face as well.

“So are you going to be upset if I ask the other guys to come in here and do the same, to edit photos?” You wonder, your voice dripping with a teasing tone. Jeremy laughs softly and leans over and kisses your cheek.

“As long as none of the meetings end the way this one did tonight, I’ll be alright.”

#jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman imagines #jeremy swayman x reader #hockey fanfic #hockey #nhl fanfiction #jeremy swayman fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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ohsalome · 8 months

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How does a state become fascist? How did Russia do it?

A special kind of nationalism is needed here. To convince people that you were once great. That once you were a military empire — and then you were humiliated. This is what Hitler once said: “Germany was great, had colonies in Africa, but we were humiliated at Versailles

Under the terms of the Versailles Peace Treaty of 1919, which ended the First World War, Germany had to get rid of its numerous colonies in Africa, China and Micronesia, cede significant territories in Europe and pay reparations to the victorious states of the war in the amount of $442 billion at 2012 prices.. Our empire was taken from us, and our people in other countries and former territories faced genocide. We need a strong ruler to come and restore our empire. To show that we are a big powerful player. And Iʼm ready to do it.”

Putin behaved the same way. He even said that if Russia does not regain its greatness, it will destroy the world.

Also, often in countries that become fascist, there are many economic problems. And nationalism, this feeling of power, can replace food — you will draw your happiness from this feeling, or from the awareness of yourself as a German or a white American. After that, you say that representative democracy is evil. That it allows the existence of LGBT people and the like, that the state is weak because of democracy. Fascism appeals to conservative, religious people who would not call themselves fascists. He tells them: we will protect you from your children becoming gay, from someone destroying your churches. And they often call all their opponents communists. And they get votes. Sound familiar, right?

[...]

It is ironic that the Russians, who were once rightly regarded as the victors over fascism and who now practice fascism, call their war "anti-fascist."

It is necessary to pay attention not to words, but to ideology. Putin can say that he is a liberator — but he is closer to Hitler than to Brezhnev, to Peter I than to communists. And this is an important argument in favor of why the Russians should not leave a single piece of Ukrainian land. For the same reasons why it was not possible to leave, for example, Warsaw under the Nazis.

Now Putin is talking about Ukrainians like Hitler was talking about Jews. He says that there can be no Ukrainians, only Russians, and that all Ukrainians are actually Russians. This position means that he is going to get rid of everyone who speaks the Ukrainian language. That is why all this delusion of the West about territorial concessions must stop.

#ukraine #war in ukraine #russia #russian invasion of ukraine #politics #russo ukrainian war #russian invasion in ukraine #fascism #nazism #yale #Jason Stanley #political philosophy

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reareaotaku · 3 months

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Jealous/Yandere! Stanley Barber Headcanons

He hates the feeling so much

Like, he's happy that you're happy, but he wishes you were happy with him

He's used to the depressing feeling, but that doesn't mean he likes you

He just watches you, feeling like shit

He knows you don't owe him anything, but god he loves you so much

Why don't you see it? Are you playing with his feelings?

It sure feels that way

He'll do anything for you. Practically drops everything for you, but sometimes he feels like you wouldn't do the same

He listens to all of your problems and rants. He doesn't mind. In fact, he loves to listen to you talk

He loves laying in bed, feeling your body close to his as you rant about something stupid/ whatever it is you want to talk about

He gives you this loving look and has this stupid smile on his face

You occupy every part of his mind

He gets really giddy around you and he can't help wanting to do whatever it is to make you happy/smile

Loves doing karoke/singing with you

It doesn't matter if you sing terribly. He doesn't care, he still loves hearing it

You never have to be embarrassed around you, because he's definitely more embarrassed

Like, say someone embarrassed you in class or you got called on without knowing the answer [You get the gist], he'll take attention off of you by doing something stupid so that people will laugh at him instead of you

He doesn't get it when you have insecurities, because he loves you so much it hurts his heart

What do you mean you don't like your body? He thinks you're the hottest thing on the planet

Don't like the way you talk?? He can listen to you all day [etc etc]

If you ever have an argument with your parent[s], then you can always rant to him about it

Even if you're in the wrong, he's on your side and adamantly defending you

You can say that the grass is blue and he'll be like 'Yeah, looks pretty blue to me'

But, back to the parent thing, he doesn't have a good relationship with his dad, so he completely understands fighting with a parent

He really wants to ask you out, but he's scared that you'll not only reject him, but it'll ruin your friendship. He'd rather die than lose your friendship

He's pretty in denial about his feelings. Like he knows he's in love with you, but if someone calls him out on it, he rolls his eyes while shaking his head, adamantly denying it, but nobodies buying it [Expect you]

"You don't like me?" You'll ask, trying not to cry

Something inside him breaks when seeing you tear up. He doesn't want you to cry- Especially if HE's the reason you're crying

"Of course I like you!"

"Then why did you laugh and roll your eyes?"

He's at a loss for words. What is he supposed to say? 'Oh, yes Y/n. I am so in love with you that I would throw my whole life away and run across the country and start a new life with you if you asked because I love you more than the need to breath'. No, he can't say that. He'll just tell you it's complicated

#stanley barber #i am not okay with this #yandere stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #ianowt #ianowt x reader #yandere stanley x reader #yandere stanley barber x reader #jealous yandere #jealousy

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w1ldthoughts · 3 months

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Social Media QB

Anon Requested

Disclaimer: this is a work of FICTION, the characters are fictionalized versions of real life situations and real people. It’s all based on my imagination.

Masterlist

The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.

Keenan was usually “slay” or “slayer.” Mike was always “Mike Dub”, Michael Davis was “Vato” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.

Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction.

But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.

“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still feel the rancid scent on her clothes.

You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post. “Why do I have to do it?”

Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”

You raised your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is—am I that easy to read?”

“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”

The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”

You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”

“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”

Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”

You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”

His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”

You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”

“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”

You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.

In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people didn’t get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.

“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”

“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still right in front of you.

You’re just here, waiting for some to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.

The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you felt his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allowed your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he picks you up, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.

You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.

“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly as he places you back on your feet. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”

“I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will I just, I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m so sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.

You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.

He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert fluff #justin herbert imagine #Justin Herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic

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amarthine · 2 months

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Omg i literally NEED more of the goth stan with a brightly dressed reader, pleaseee make a part 2😭

໒♡੭ sypnosis. goth stan w brightly dressed reader + valentines day — what he does for (and to you) on the day of love!

disclaimers. swearing, MORE lingerie mentions, mentions of weed, mentions of alcohol, nsfw, rough sex, p in v sex, oral (reader receiving), reader being referred to as a female, light biting, gentle hair pulling

notes. goth stan goth stan !!

sfw.

prepares weeks before hand, orders you one of those pink bunny plushies [ it reminds him of you ]

overall i feel like hes not too crazy with it, hes kind of nonchalant about it, but he does actually like the holiday, for tons of reasons, now at least.

he most definitely was one of those people who hated the holiday and everyone who participated because he was bitter about having no one to celebrate it with.

gave it to you at school in those little gift baggies, you kissed him and he immediately went quiet, hes putty in your hands.

its not that hard to get him to do your bidding, honestly. in his eyes your his angel, the sweetest person hes ever met.

voluntarily took you on a shopping spree just so he could see you try on outfits.

hes been called a simp multiple times just for that, but hes just happy to be there.

he indeed, got high on that same day, and got blasted the same night, he wanted to celebrate with you, and he was all over you the whole time.

nsfw.

your the woman of the night! and he treats you as such, and despite being blasted out of his mind he handles you with such care as one would do with a porcelain doll.

this is one of the times where hes more sensual, much slower when hes fucking you, his thrusts are like hes trying to make it last, every last whimper and yelp you make when he suddenly fucks you harder is music to his ears.

absolutely bought you more lingerie [ what can he say he loves seeing you dressed up for him ] though this time, he actually didn’t tear it off. He pounded you with it on, something about it just gets him hot and bothered.

is most definitely into the whole opposite dynamic thing, he loves how different you are, and adores your style, it also just so happens to play into the lingerie more, especially when you were the ones with the bows. Its probably how it makes you look so much more beautiful when your fucked out of your mind in his opinion.

foreplay was him kissing your inner thighs and he bit gently against them. he absolutely loves biting your thighs, he’s obsessed with them, thin or thicker, he squeezes them all the time, or literally just lays between them.

he wanted to express his gratitude and love for you, so he ate you out until you could not handle it anymore, practically sobbing.

genuinely loves when you call him stanley, it gets him going.

small drabble :)

nothing but choked cries, it was all that could come out, you were sweaty, and your hair was clinging to your face, at first it was so slow and romantic, now it felt as if you couldn’t even think anymore. All that could escape your lips were whimpers and yelps. “Hah.. M—stan!” You mewl into his shoulder. He hummed against your ear, his hand gripping your hair out of the way.

#jujuupdated. ഒ #south park x reader #south park #x reader #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh sp x reader #goth stan x reader #stan marsh smut #stan marsh x reader smut #stan marsh headcanons valentines day

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suddenlybambi · 11 months

Text

thunderstorm ♥ stan marsh

pairing : stan marsh x reader

tags : fluff, thunderstorms, implied references to sexual content (nothing actually described explicitly)

word count : 781

summary : your boyfriend joins you in bed on a stormy night

You awoke with a start when you heard tapping at your window. This would be concerning under any circumstances, but more so then, as it was 3am, there was a storm outside, and your room was on the second floor.

A second knock rang out, and you sighed, recognising the pattern being tapped out. Opening your curtains, you saw your boyfriend Stan barely clinging onto the window ledge, soaked to the bone.

“Are you crazy or just really stupid?” You groaned as you opened the window, grabbing his arms to pull him into the warmth of your room. You cringed as his soaked sweater made contact with your dry pyjamas when he pulled you in for a hug.

“Stupidly in love with you a crazy amount,” You groaned at how cheesy the line was but felt your face heat up nonetheless. He always had that effect on you. Even when he was doing something stupid and reckless, your heart would beat a little faster whenever he so much as looked your way.

“We need to get you out of those clothes before you get sick,” You sighed, tugging his sweater over his head.

“Been here for less than a minute, and you’re already trying to undress me?” He teased, holding his arms up so you could get the sweater off of him.

“Stanley,” You groaned, rolling your eyes at him as you threw the sweater over to your laundry basket so you could deal with it in the morning. “I am going to push you back out of the window in a minute.”

“You love me too much to ever do that,” He grinned knowingly, leaning down to give you a kiss while you checked his shirt to see if the rain had gotten through. Unfortunately, it had. You dodged the kiss by pulling his shirt over his head, a giggle slipping out as you did so. When his shirt was off and his face back in view, he had a dramatic pout on his lips. “You’re mean.”

“Mean would have been keeping the window closed,” You smirked, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. He tried to deepen it, but you pulled away, your hands slipping down his chest to his waistband. “Pants off.”

“Wait- really?” He looked hopeful, but you rolled your eyes.

“You’re not getting lucky tonight,” You clarified. “You’re just not getting my bedsheets wet with your soggy ass.”

“We could get your bedsheets w-” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence with a hand over his mouth.

“You are actually the worst,” You groaned, though your words held no seriousness to them. You adored him, even when he had a one-track mind that led directly under the sheets. “Come on. I’ve still got some pyjamas of yours here.” You pulled away from him and turned to grab the clothes that he had left at yours a while back.

“You told me last week you didn’t have these!” He gasped, holding up the clothes as he stood in his underwear. “I wanted to wear this shirt the other day!”

“Actually, I told you I didn’t know where they were, which was technically true!” She grinned deviously. “I just… didn’t know if they were in my wardrobe or my drawer.”

“I’ll remember that next time you ask where your bra is,” He winks and presses a kiss to your forehead. As he did, thunder crackled from outside. “It’s a good job that I got here when I did.”

“You know, I could have sworn you had your own bed,” You walked back over to your bed as you spoke, crawling under the covers while he got dressed. “One that you swore you would sleep in tonight.”

“I got lonely,” He pouted. Once dressed, he climbed into bed with you. In an instant, his arms were around you, and your head lay on his chest. It wasn’t the first time you shared a bed, and it wouldn’t be the last. For a couple who didn’t live together, it was rare to spend a night alone.

The thunder rattled again, practically shaking the room with its sheer intensity. “It sounds like it’s getting closer,” You yawned, snuggling your head against him further. “I guess I’m glad you got lonely and decided to join me.”

“You guess?” He teased. One of his hands trailed up your side in order to play with your hair. “Then I guess I love you.”

“I guess I love you too,” You smiled, closing your eyes as you cuddled against him, listening to the storm roll past as you fell asleep in his arms.

#stan marsh #sp stan #south park stan #stan marsh x reader #south park #south park fanfiction #south park fic

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claireelle18 · 10 months

Text

Let Me - Vince Dunn

Thank you for all the love on my Gem post! Another idea came to me for him…I hope you enjoy this one just as much!

It wasn’t a purposeful keeping the marriage unknown. All records are open to the public. She had her last name changed as well. Neither her nor Vince just announced the marriage. It was only three weeks since eloping. A beautiful day, some stunning scenery out in Toronto. Just the two of them, their photographer, and the officiant. The ring glittering under the arena lights. She was surprised she still showed up to the arena that night after the wicked nasty fight that occurred right before he was supposed to be at the arena for pregame. She had asked him about just continuing to keep their new status a little more private, but he said he was wanting to tell the guys on the team before playoffs started. They all knew her, but no one knew of the change in status for the couple. That was the reason they fought this afternoon.

She groaned, “Vince, did you even think about that this could take away the focus on the playoff games?”

He scoffed. “No, I figured it would let them know another reason why I am so determined to bring home the Stanley Cup.”

If she was being honest, she was more worried about him being spotted with his ring on and fans speculating. Most fans were so sweet to her, but she did get the rude remarks and glares. He had always told her it didn’t matter what they said because he was her’s, but she still struggled dealing with that while he was on the ice. “Think about it Vin! People catch you with the ring and they will want to know so much more about that than how the game goes!”

“It’s been a few weeks already and no one has caught on! I think we will be fine!”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to let more people know about our marriage! Do you not respect that wish of mine?” Some of the girls had not been very kind in the past to her after Vince once slipped up about their relationship. Vile to her about how she loved him for his money. Vile with comments about how he liked to flirt with other girls and cheat on her.

“What do you mean? Of course I do! No one will catch the fact I wear a ring.” He looks at the clock. “I better go before I am late. Will I see you there?” He asks, looking at her. He can see the tears rimming her eyes, threatening to pour down her face. It doesn’t sit well with him that they just fought before the playoff game, darkening his already anxious mood.

Game time rolls around, and every little chance he has to berate the opposing team’s players, he does. Before long, he keeps landing himself in the penalty box, every chance he gets too. His mind clouded with how she looked before her left for the arena. How she looked a little cracked, how she seemed so small for herself. After this next round in the penalty box, she hears the announcers comment. “I don’t know what is up with Vince Dunn tonight, but for someone who’s loud through the regular season, he sure has it out tonight to be in that penalty box more than on the ice.”

“You’re right there. If I didn’t know better, I may say that coach will be looking to remove him for the playoff roster.” Her heart plummeted into her feet. Removing him from the playoff roster? He played such an intricate part of the core defense that removing him could be an awful outcome. She yanked her phone out, dialing that contact she’s never used before. “Who is this?” The man’s voice questioned across the line. She explained to him that she just needs to see Vince immediately. “I’m sorry but this isn’t a way to see him. You have a better chance at going to the games or one of their open practices.”

“I’m not a fan. I need to see Vince Dunn now. You have to get me down to the locker room before the start of the next period.”

He laughed. “Why would I get you in to see him?” “Because I’m his wife.” She identified herself to him.

Commotion happening across the phone line. “Meet me next to the shop. I’ll see you in three minutes.”

She followed the man down the back halls to get towards the locker room. The sound spilling out of the locker room could be heard down the hallway. His manager talking with the defense coach. Coach motioned some number at her, she could care less how much time, she just needed the time, then let her slip past into the room. A defeated Vince sat in his gear cubby, eyes casted towards the floor. “You’re going to burn a hole into the floor, mister,” she teased as she crouched down in from of him. The whispers could be heard of ‘why is she down here’ and a few ‘who is she’ sprinkled in.

She knelt between his knees, putting her hand on his cheek. “Vin…Vin…Vince…,” she cooed. He broke out of his trance. “Breathe babe. It will be okay. You know fights happen, but do not get your ass kicked off this roster. Do not throw this chance for a second Cup for you out because you’re upset.” He melted into her her hand, taking a few breaths. “I’m sorry we fought. I just felt caught off guard. I get where you came from, wanting to share the news with the team.”

“Time is up Mrs. Dunn,” Coach called out. She went to stand, and Vince pulled her into a quick kiss. The room cheered, noise dying down as they made their way back to the bench.

After the game, she was brought back into the locker room to announce their marriage officially to the team, together.

#imagine #vince dunn #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl hockey #seattle kraken #kraken hockey

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fixfoxnox · 1 year

Note

more stanley uris?🙏🙏

Calm Your Nerves - Stanley Uris x Fem! Reader (NSFW)

Description: Stan's nerves are eating away at him before he and his wife are set to meet up with the other Losers again, luckily his wife knows just how to help him calm his nerves. Part 2 of A Better Bath

Warnings: Smut

Names used: Babylove, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k

Note: I have one more Stanley Uris request in my ask box, but after I finish that I'll be taking a break from writing for Stan!

“You still aren’t dressed?” She stepped into the small room they’d been given at the townhouse. She’d wanted to make her own reservation for the trip, if only to give herself something that she could control, but Mike told her that he had everything handled, and that was that. She stepped closer to Stan, worry clear on her face.

She’d been hard-pressed to let him out of her sight since they’d gotten the call, since she’d practically broken down the door to his office, her eyes immediately zeroing in on the letters that he was writing. She’d known. She’d probably known he would try it since they were kids, since he’d taken that broken bottle piece and jokingly pretended to cut his own wrists when they made their vow. That memory had come from the depths of her mind. The vow. Derry, Maine. The Losers Club. Georgie. It.

All of it had come rushing back to her and if it hadn’t been for the trashcan that Stanley kept by the door to his office, she knew she would have ruined their carpets. That didn’t matter though. It didn’t matter because Stan was here, he was here in front of her, sitting on a bed in the Derry townhouse, looking like a miserable puppy who’d been forced to take a bath, his wet hair from his shower still clinging to his forehead.

She stepped closer to him, moving to stand between his legs so that she could properly brush the hair from his face. He leaned into her touch, his arms coming to wrap around her legs as he leaned his head against her stomach. “It isn’t too late for us to leave,” he mumbled to her, his voice hoarse. “We can still go home and pretend this never happened.”

“Stan,” she scolded lightly, “We made a promise.”

“When we were kids!” He stressed, pulling back to look up at her with wild eyes. She could see the fear that was reflected in them and it made her heart constrict in her chest. She hated to see Stan so worried.

“Hun,” she took his face in her hands, trying to comfort him as best she could, “It’s just dinner with some old friends.”

“But Mike-”

“Could be wrong,” she interrupted. She leaned down, capturing his lips with her own in a sweet kiss. She took one of Stan’s hands in her own as they pressed their lips together slowly, sweetly. His hands were shaking. There was another moment as she pressed closer to him, his hands began rubbing at the back of her thighs, skating over the curve of her ass. She pulled away from the kiss slowly, her hands pressing into his shoulders to push him back toward the bed. “I think,” she slowly climbed onto the bed to straddle him, “that you need to take your mind off of things. Calm your nerves a bit.”

Stan’s hands landed on her hips, tugging her down to grind against him in a slow roll. She gave a gasp at the delicious pressure, her hands coming to rest against his naked chest for support. Stan only tilted his head back with a satisfied sigh. “I certainly won’t say no.” He brought her down to roll against him again.

She could feel him growing harder against her, his boxers were the only thing separating his growing cock from her jean-clad legs. She ground down against him again, tilting her head back as the move caused the seam of her pants to rub against her deliciously. “We have to be quick,” she warned him.

“I can be quick,” he assured her, his hands already tugging at the button of her pants, “But you have to get these fucking things off.” His words were nothing more than a low growl, ripped from his throat viciously. His cheeks were going pink and with that clouded look in his eyes, she knew that he was focused on one thing and one thing alone: burying himself deep inside of her.

She was quick to climb off of him, shimmying out of her pants and panties as quickly as she could. Stan was in a similar boat, kicking off his boxers quickly to reveal his hard cock to the world. She licked her lips at the sight of it, feeling heat pooling in her stomach and her hands aching to wrap around his length.

She watched wide-eyed for a moment as Stan wrapped a hand around his cock, giving himself a few slow jerks as moans pulled from his throat. She wasn’t going to stay still for long and was quick to take the few steps back toward the bed, batting Stanley’s hand away to replace it with her own.

Stan’s head tilted back against the bed, his lidded eyes watching her face as her hand slowly worked his cock. She let her hand tighten and loosen in a quick rhythm. Tighter at the bottom and softer at the top. Her face flushed slowly as Stan’s moans grew more desperate, his hand coming forward to yank at her shirt, trying to tempt her to just climb on top of him and take him already. Her cunt throbbed at the thought.

Still, she couldn’t force herself to, not when she could see the little bit of pre-cum at the tip of Stan’s cock, the sight was just too tempting. It was too tempting and she loved to hear the noises that he made. With that thought in mind, she let her hand stroke to the bottom of his cock before she dived down, giving a quick kitten lick to the tip of his dick. Stan’s hips jerked under the quick movement. “Fuck! Babylove,” she interrupted his words by wrapping her mouth around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around him quickly. His voice sounded wrecked as another breathy moan pulled from his lips, “fuck, I thought we had to be- oh god, quick?”

She didn’t answer, only hummed amusedly in response. His responding whine made her throb. She dropped to her knees in front of the man, a bit more comfortable of a position than trying to lean over him. Her mouth continued working him, slowly taking him deeper and deeper into her mouth, laving her tongue over the side of his cock. It wasn’t until she’d taken him almost as deep as she could that she hollowed her cheeks, giving a harsh suck that had his hands flying to her hair and his hips jumping up into the feeling.

She nearly choked on his length as it abused the back of her throat, but she managed to keep her gag reflex in check, allowing Stan to use his hand in her hair to begin guiding her mouth up and down on his cock, quicker and quicker as his moans grew more desperate. “So good for me,” he moaned out, “so fucking good, letting me fuck your mouth like this.”

She whimpered around his cock, feeling her face flush red again. She could feel herself clenching, aching to have some sort of pressure against herself. Her free hand dropped down, teasing her clit with slow strokes at first before speeding up to match the pace with which Stan was fucking her mouth. As usual, Stan seemed to know exactly how much she was getting off to this. He knew her inside and out, and he could tell from her moans the second she’d started to touch herself.

“Playing with your cunt, aren’t you?” He gave a moaned-out laugh, his hips beginning to jump up into her mouth. She could feel him twitching on her tongue. At his words, she pressed her fingers harder to herself, moving quicker to feel those jolts of pleasure work through her legs and slowly begin to fog her brain. “God, I wanna fuck you so bad, babylove.”

Spit slicked down her chin, the force of his growing thrusts making her gag around his length. He felt too good fucking her throat, she couldn’t even think about the fact that she likely wouldn’t be able to speak properly afterward, but she knew she wanted it. She wanted him to wreck her, she always did. The thought made her moan around his length, her hand on her clit slowly sinking lower to tease around her entrance. She prodded one finger inside of herself, it was far too little of a stretch, but soon she was able to add another and that, combined with the pressure of her palm still stimulating her clit, was enough to have her mind going blank.

The sounds of moans and obscene sucking noises were the only thing in the room. They were being loud, as per usual, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The walls in the building were thin, and she knew if anyone else was there they would be able to hear exactly what they were doing. The thought only made her lick and suck at Stan more vigorously. Let them know, let all of their friends know just how much they loved each other.

Above her, Stan’s hips began to jerk more wildly, his hand tightened in her hair, and his moans grew more and more desperate, choked off with every move. She knew he was close, which was why she was so disappointed when his grip in her hair forced her off of his cock, a small bit of drool still connecting her mouth to his soaked cock. “Fuck,” He sat up from the bed, his face red and his eyes wide, “Get up here babylove, Let me finish in you, huh? Fuck you full.”

The words pulled a startled gasp from her and she gave herself one last good pump of her fingers inside of herself before pulling them out and scrambling to her feet. She moved to straddle Stan, crawling on top of him and feeling his cock rub deliciously over her entrance. Stan was quick to capture her soaked hand, the one she’d buried in her cunt. He brought it to his mouth, locking eyes with her as he let his mouth wrap around the digits, licking them clean.

He moaned around her fingers, “You taste so good,” he pulled them out of his mouth, placing a kiss on her palm and beginning to trace kisses up her arm so that he could sink his face into her neck as his hands pulled her hips flush to his, both of them gasping at the resulting pleasure. “When this is all over,” he muttered into the skin of her throat, “I want to taste you. We’ll make an afternoon out of it.”

“Stan,” she muttered lowly, embarrassment and lust in her voice. Just the thought of Stanley with his face buried between her thighs had her cunt clenching around nothing. “Please, baby,” she begged.

“Please what?” Stan muttered against her ear, amusement clear in his voice. “You have to be a bit clearer, babylove.”

She whined, feeling his teeth nipping against her neck, leaving little marks as one of his hands trailed up, tracing under her shirt and up to her bra. He groped at her breast through her bra, pulling a gasp from her throat as his thumb rubbed deliciously over her nipple through the material. “Please,” she rolled her hips against his, pulling a breathy laugh from his throat, “Fuck me. Please!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Stan pulled away from her throat, quickly capturing her lips against his own, a grin on his face. His hand on her breast pulled away, slowly skating down her stomach to teasingly brush against her clit. He used his grip on her hip to pull her down, his hand grasping his cock to line himself up before he was ever so slowly sinking her down onto his length.

She gave a gasp at the feeling, a long moan pulled from her throat as her head tilted back. He was moving so slowly, so torturously slowly. She tried to roll down, seeking that little bit of friction from him, but his hands on her hips stopped her, forcing her to take him at the pace that he set. “God, Stanley,” she whined out, her legs shaking as her arms came to grip his shoulders, pulling him tighter against her in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss.

They both gasped when he finally bottomed out. Stan moved away from her lips, burying his face back into her throat to suck marks against her skin. He just held her there for a moment, not moving. Finally, after she started to squirm against him, desperate little whines leaving her throat, he began to move, using his grip on her hips to roll her against him. “Go on, babylove,” he muttered into her ear, giving a quick nip to the skin there, “ride me.”

He leaned back then, a smug grin on his face as his hands stopped moving her. It was clear to see that he was going to make her do most of the work. The thought had a shiver running down her spine, her heart beating faster in her chest as she clenched around him. He moaned at the feeling.

She let her hands move to rest against his chest, using the leverage to slowly lift herself up, before dropping back down onto him hard, both of them moaning loudly at the stimulation. She repeated the movement again, building a slow but hard rhythm that had both of them desperate, harsh little moans forced from their throats. With every move of her hips, she could feel Stanley inside of her, brushing pleasantly against her walls and hitting that spot that had her back arching and her nails digging into his chest. Her clit was rubbing deliciously against the hair at the base of his cock, sending little jolts of pleasure up her spine with every move.

Stan’s hands grasped at her hips harder, tugging her against him harder and harder with every thrust. His hips began canting up into the feeling, little grunts escaping his mouth as his eyes grew hazy and his mouth dropped open. Whispers of her name, of how good she was, of how much he loved her escaped his mouth, causing her to slam herself harder against him.

Her legs burned with the movement and she knew that she would be sore by the end of this, but she couldn’t make herself care, her head tilted back at the exertion, but pleasure wracked her spine. Her mind was cloudy, the only thought in her head was a constant stream of his name. Just him, him, him over and over and over. “You feel so good,” she moaned, tilting forward to hover over him.

He groaned at her words, his body tense. She could tell her movements were growing slower by how tense he was. He was trying to let her do it, trying not to just snap and fuck into her. The thought made her warm and she clenched around him again. There was an itch in her as well, they both knew that neither of them was going to be able to reach their end this way. It just wasn’t going to happen. “Stan,” she moaned, dropping down to press kisses against his naked chest. She took his nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue over it and rolling forward at the desperate gasp he gave. “Fuck me,” she spoke against his skin, “Please, please, fuck just take me, baby.”

He didn’t need any more permission than that. With a quick grab of her hips, he was flipping their positions, smoothly rolling her over to her back so that he could begin to pound into her at a quickening pace. Each of his thrusts pulled a whining moan from her throat, the bed beneath them creaking dangerously at the pace and force that he was fucking her with.

She could feel pleasure rising up inside of her, every thrust forcing it higher and higher until she was threatening to spill, her hands scratching across his back and shoulders. He was giving harsh little grunts into her skin, sweat slicking his forehead as he fucked her harshly. His words stayed sweet though, “So good for me, babylove, so fucking good. Taking me so good, so fucking tight.” She could feel his pace beginning to change, his hips moving more erratically as he neared the edge as well.

“Please,” her head lolled back against the bed, arching up against him, desperate for that stinging pleasure to continue hitting at her. Stanley delivered, pulling her leg up over his shoulder so that he could fuck into her deeper and deeper.

It wasn’t long after that, the sounds of skin slapping skin speeding up, growing more erratic, when she finally found herself being pushed toward the edge. She could feel herself shaking, her entire body going tense as the pleasure continued building higher and higher before finally, with one last harsh snap of Stanley’s hips against her own, she was thrown over the edge with a call of his name.

Stan wasn’t far behind her, the tightening of her cunt around his cock sending his hips stuttering against her own. Only a few more thrusts and he was giving a grunt, burying himself deep inside of her with a harsh grunt.

She came back to herself several moments later, wrinkling her nose at the feeling of warm cum seeping down her thighs. She didn’t say anything though, only brought her hand up to begin carding it through Stanley’s hair, just letting him lay with his head against her shoulder. They would have to move soon, no doubt they were already late, but she wasn’t going to tell him that just yet. They could take a few more moments, they could be late if they needed to be.

“Alright?” She checked with him again as they pulled into the parking lot. She was driving, knowing that he was far too nervous and distracted to be behind the wheel of a vehicle.

He took in a deep shaky breath, wiping his hands on his pants but giving her a smile nonetheless. “I’ll make it,” he leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Come on, I think we’re late.” He sent her a playful wink, one that had her heart fluttering in her chest and a smile pulling at her face.

She didn’t know what was about to happen, she didn’t know if what Mike told them was true, but she did know that she would be able to handle it. She could handle it so long as she had Stan beside her, he helped her calm her nerves.

My Masterlist

#stanley uris x reader #stanley uris #stanley uris smut #stan uris #it stephen king #it 2019 #x reader #stanley uris x you

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 1 year

Text

I'm Not Going Anywhere

I'm aware that I still have prompts to fill (but my muse is dragging her heels in finding inspiration for them) but in the meantime, this little idea wouldn't go away. A little bit of angsty fluff. Follows the fire incident.

***

You feel rather than see Melissa hover in the doorway of your classroom. Looking up, you see the guilt-stricken expression on her face.

“Go to her,” you say, knowing she’s about to say something about the two of you having plans that evening. “I’ll cancel the reservations and we can book for another time.”

Still, she hovers.

Getting up from your desk you cross over to her, taking her hands in your own. “I’m not mad. There are bigger things going on right now than dinner plans. Go to her, I’m not going anywhere.”

She says nothing, but looks at you for a long few moments before leaning in to press a chaste but meaningful kiss to your lips. “Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything?” you ask.

She nods, stepping back and heading along the hallway towards Barbara’s classroom.

You’re at home when she calls.

“Hey! How are you? How’s Barb?” You had left them at school to talk, giving Barbara the privacy and support of her best friend. You had messaged Melissa before leaving, letting her know where you’d be if she needed you, but not wanting to hover.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” There was a sigh on Melissa’s end. “I just don’t know how I could have missed this? How I didn’t see it? Why she didn’t tell me?”

Holding the phone to your ear, you find yourself pacing as she talks, her agitation palpable. Passing the window of your apartment, you frown. Stepping closer to the glass, you see Melissa’s car parked on the sidewalk. Still listening as she speaks, you move to the door of your apartment, slipping on your shoes before venturing outside. As Melissa trails of into a frustrated silence, you tap her window, making her jump.

“You coming in any time soon?”

Melissa hangs up the phone before opening her car door. “I wasn’t sure if I was,” she admits. “I’m not good company right now. I don’t wanna put that on you.”

You pocket your phone, reaching out your hands in invitation. “You’re not putting anything on anybody. Come on, come in and you can just be for a bit. You can put music on and think until you want to talk, watch shitty TV or I could run you a bath and you can just soak for a bit?”

She’s still hesitant, but she ended up outside your apartment for a reason. You never fail to improve her mood, no matter what she’s feeling.

“You don’t need to be good company. You just need to be,” you tell her. “And since you’re here, you may as well just be here. I’ll only worry if you go home.”

Once inside your apartment, you find her some comfortable jeans she had managed to leave behind and one of your soft, worn hoodies to change into.

“Can we order pizza? The good pizza? And just drink beer?” she asks sheepishly, emerging from the bedroom.

You smile softly. “I told you, we can do whatever you want? I’ll even watch that Stanley Tucci Italy show if you want.”

You don’t end up watching TV. Instead, you let her vent between bites of pizza and mouthfuls of beer.

“I mean, I’m out there living all my firefighter dreams and she’s there, struggling and I just didn’t realise. I don’t know if I was just distracted or I was just being a shitty friend?”

You try to reason with her, turn her away from the latter train of thought.

“She practically carried me through my divorce, put up with all my shit, put me back together and I can’t even see when she’s drowning? She was in real trouble and I missed it.”

You both jump at the ringing of her phone. Seeing Barb’s name flash up on the screen, Melissa jumps to answer it.

“Of course I can come over. I’ll be right there, I just need to call a cab-“

You wave your hand in front of her face. “I haven’t had a drink. I’ll drive you.” You see her frown, hesitating

“Actually, I’ll be right over. Y/N is gonna give me a ride.” She pauses, listening to Barb on the other end of the phone. “I love you too, Barb. I’ll be there soon.” Hanging up, she looks at you where you’ve already started to clear the pizza boxes from the table.

Turning to face her, you lift the half empty bottle of beer she had been drinking. “You want me to toss this or you want to finish it on the drive over?” You wait for an answer, but none seem to be forthcoming. Instead, she looks positively guilty. “What’s wrong?”

“I already cancelled our plans for tonight and now I’ve even ruined this.”

You put the beer bottle back down on the table and move to stand in front of her, cupping her face in your hands. “You haven’t ruined anything. What you and Barb have will never ruin or interrupt any plans we have. She needs you, you go, no arguments.”

She covers your hands where they still rest on her cheeks, her expression unreadable. Joe would always tell her she’d have to make it up to him if she cancelled plans to be there for Barb. Taunt her she did more for the kindergarten teacher than she did as his wife.

“You want to get changed before we head?” you ask when she hesitates. “I’m sure there’s a few of your shirts here.”

“Can I keep the hoody?” she asks in a small voice, nuzzling into the soft fabric.

You smile at how cute she looks in the oversized sweater. “Course you can.” You drop a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll just go grab my keys.”

She’s quiet during the drive over, you notice, not even cussing out the driver who cuts you off. You can’t help but can’t help but smile, however, as her hand finds yours on the gear shift. Pulling up outside Barb’s house, you turn your hand, lacing your fingers together. “You’ll let me know what you need? I can drop off your things if you’re staying or pick you up? It doesn’t matter what time and I don’t care if it’s to bring you back to mine or just to take you home. I just want to know you’re safe.”

She turns to look at you, a slight frown furrowing her brows. There’s no judgment from you. No lamenting about her putting Barb first. You’re just there, doing what you can to help, expecting your plans to be cancelled so she can be there for her best friend. “But-“

“But nothing,” you tell her firmly. “I don’t care if it’s 4am. Call me and I’ll be here.”

It takes you by surprise when she lunges forward, pulling you into a rough kiss before leaning her forehead against yours. “You okay?”

She nods and you feel the action.

“Good. Now remember, call me. And tell Barb and Gerald if they need anything, I’m only ever a phone call away for them too.”

One final, bruising kiss and she’s out of the car and headed for Barb’s front door.

You half expect her not to call, but she does, just after 1am. Having been dozing on the couch, you sleepily answer, immediately telling her not to apologise as she registers your sleep laden voice. Picking up your keys, you’re out the door before she’s even hung up.

Sitting outside Barb’s house, you message rather can call her to tell her you’re there, adding that there’s no rush. You’re there, you’re not going anywhere, even if her goodnights and goodbyes take an hour.

Eventually, you see Melissa and Barb come to the door, giving each other a hug and the red head saying something that has the older woman looking solemn, but nodding. You watch as Melissa turns to make her way towards your car, slipping into the passenger seat and giving the other woman a final wave, as do you, before she closes the door.

You watch as the woman next to you visibly deflates, clearly exhausted. You can clearly imagine her putting on a brave face and being everything Barb needed her to be that night, tired and beat beneath it all. “My place or yours?”

She turns to look at you, head leaning on the head rest of the passenger seat. There are still no complaints from you, even after it took her almost twenty minutes to make it out of Barb’s house after you had messaged. There’s no irritation in your voice and she knows, even if she finds it hard to believe, that you don’t mind what she answers. Whatever she chooses, you’ll be there. You keep reminding her you’re not going anywhere.

Just as she did when you dropped her off, she leans across to press a kiss to your lips. It’s a softer kiss this time, one hand gently cupping your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Another kiss is pressed to your lips. “Yours,” she says softly. “I want to be with you.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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lovelybunn · 1 year

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𔓕 ▒⃡ ‧ 𓐄 drunken heartache .

part two.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnext...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprevious...

pairing: stan marsh & best friend!reader

synopsis: wendy left poor STAN MARSH for the official and final time, and he was devastated about it. depression hit him like a bus, until by some miracle, you showed up, and practically saved his life. a friend like you was just what stan had needed for quite a while, but what if he wanted more?

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): depression, of prns she/her, fem!reader, swearing, slight mentions of misogyny, jealousy, mutual pining, angst, blood, vomiting, alcoholism

THE LOUD ringing of Stan's alarm clock rudely woke him from his slumber. The pounding ache against his temples caused Stan to groan, "I couldn't have drank that much..." Stan sluggishly sat up from his bed and checked his phone on the nightstand. 6:25. "Shit! I overslept!" He flew off his bed and rummaged through his drawers, picking out some jeans a t-shirt, disregarding whether any of it matched. Stan slid his shoes on and headed out the bedroom door, treading towards the bathroom.

It was locked, so Stan knocked twice. "What do you want, turd? I'm trying to poop here!" Shelly screamed from the other side. "TMI much?" Stan muttered. "Sis, can you please hurry up? I'm gonna be late to the bus." Shelly huffed in frustration. "No! It's not my fault that you slept through all twelve of your alarms. Maybe if you didn't laugh your guts out on the phone with that random girl last night, you wouldn't be so tired." Stan squeezed the bridge of his nose. The headache got worst with his irritation.

"Shelly, can you at least give me the toothpaste and my toothbrush? I promise I'll leave you alone if you do." Stan heard an agitated "Fine!" before both items were chucked at his face. "Thanks." He said halfheartedly, rushing downstairs to brush his teeth in the kitchen sink.

Stan squeezed out an excessive amount of paste onto his toothbrush. He turned on the tap and started scrubbing at a fast pace. His gums bled, but Stan could have cared less. His dad walked in from the living room, draped in nothing but his underwear and a robe, a steaming cup of coffee held delicately in his hands.

"Morning, son." Randy slurred, extremely relaxed. Stan raised his eyebrow in mild concern. "Morning, Dad. You sound pretty good this morning." Randy belched, then rested his arm on the counter. He took another huge swig of his coffee. "Mhm. I put some bourbon into my coffee this morning, best decision ever. Don't tell your mom, though." Stan's father hummed, Stan stared at him. "Dad, isn't coffee a stimulant? I don't think your supposed to mix drugs together." Randy scowled hard at Stan. "Oh, shut the fuck up, Stanley! You can't tell me what to do, that's my job!" Stan shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, his fingers tried to detangle the mess that was his hair.

Stan ran back upstairs to his room; midway, he face-planted straight into his mother. Sharon spun on her heels to face him. Stan looked down, face flushed with embarrassment. "Stanley? Honey, what are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be on the bus by now?" His body sunk deeper, his back slouched. "I slept in. I'm sorry." Sharon touched Stan's shoulder gently, which made him look back up at her. "It's okay, sweet-pea. Shelly told me about you and Wendy, that must've been hard on you. I'll take you to school, just hurry up and finish getting ready, I'd hate for you to miss the bus and be late for school." He thanked his mom for her hospitality did exactly what she told him to.

The moment Stan made it inside the school, he checked his phone. The clock read "7:04" but his battery percentage read "12%". Some of his notifications were of Kyle spam texting him wondering where he was with a few extra messages of Cartman being the usual dick he always is. He cleared all of them, casually walking toward their spot. The gang wasn't sitting there, but some familiar faces were.

Stan took out two painkillers and swallowed both down his throat dryly. "Hey, Craig, Tweek. Why is there basically no-one in here?" The couple exchanged a look Stan couldn't quite read; Craig replied. "Kyle and Eric are fighting outside." "It was stressing me out, so we decided to stay in here." Tweek added, his hands shook uncontrollablly. Craig stroked his boyfriends back in a comforting manner and nodded. "Yeah, you should should go stop them before it escalates any further." Stan stared at them with a look of pure worry stuck on his face. After a small moment he glanced away and treaded toward the outside exit.

Someone came walking through the door, but Stan shoved them out of the way to get closer to his friends. The person shoved him back and he turned around, ready to cuss someone out before he realized who it was. "Kenny? Dude, what are you doing? Aren't you gonna try and stop those two idiots?" Kenny flashed his teeth at Stan in response, pointing at the newly found injury. Two of his upper ones were loose and bleeding. Stan glared downward and shook his head. "Shit.." He glanced back up and questioned, "What happened, man?" Kenny sighed, licking off the excess blood off his gums. "I tried to pull Kyle away from Cartman, but he just elbowed me in the face. I was gonna go get a teacher to finally end all this, before you came along."

Stan rolled his eyes and pushed the door open to the grassy area of the school. A large circle of students crowded around Eric and Kyle, both of them pretty beaten up already. Cartman had an extremely dark black eye on his left lid while Kyle's nose kept spilling out nasty chunks of blood. Kenny dug his nails into Stan's arm. Stan side-eyed him. "What? Don't be a snitch Kenny. Just let me do what I need to do. I'll finish whatever the fuck is going on, I promise." Kenny loosened his grip and hissed in Stan's ear. "Fine. But trust me, Stan, it's not gonna work. They've been doing this shit since we got here." Stan yanked his arm away and pushed through the crowd, giving a dirty look to anyone who tried to get in his way.

As Stan inched closer into the middle of the circle, He stood on his tip-toes to see all that was going on. He shut his eyes as Kyle took a heavy blow against his ribs. He didn't think Cartman could fight, but after all these years, maybe he's taught himself to be better just to spite Kyle.

A guy in the crowd yelled a greeting Stan's way; he whipped his head toward them. "Hey Stan, my man! How's it like knowing your girlfriend broke up with you because-" Clyde started. Stan jerked at his collar and forced him to look up at him mid-sentence. "How the fuck do you know that? Who told you?" Stan ignored the surrounding stares as he pulled Clyde closer to his face, red hot with anger. "Kyle said it at the beginning of the fight." Clyde cowered, his hands shaking in fear up in the air as a sign of surrender. Stan scoffed and dropped Clyde, the poor jock falling miserably to the ground. Stan kicked the boy out of the way and marched further into the circle. It didn't take him long to make it to the very front, but when he did, the sight was devastating.

"Do you realize how absolutely fucked up that was? How could you do something like that to him? Do you even care? Or are you too much of a self-absorbed piece of shit?" Kyle spat; sweat dripped down his forehead. Cartman groaned in annoyance and ran his fat fingers through his hair. "Oh my god, you're still going on with that? If anything, I'm doing him a favor. You saw how controlling she was." Kyle shook his head back and forth in an antsy manner before screeching at the top of his lungs, "Controlling?!" Stan leaned into the crowd, he bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. "You're the biggest control freak out here, Cartman!" Kyle blew many reckless punches at Cartman. He desperately tried to block all of them, but the poor guy ended up even more bruised up than before. Kyle was trying to kill Cartman at this point. Stan couldn't bear to watch anymore.

Stan marched in between the two and pushed them off each other. The crowd screamed words that were unintelligible to Stan. "Stop!" Stan yelled, his stern voice echoing through the small outdoor space. Cartman and Kyle froze, dumbfounded. The people surrounding booed and criticized Stan for "ruining the fight". Luckily, the crowd died down due to the roaring of the homeroom bell, which caused most of them to scurry back into the building.

Stan sighed, exchanging a disappointed look across from Kyle and Cartman. "Guys.." Kyle reached over and touched Stan's shoulder, his thick ginger brows furrowed in distress. "Stan, I'm so sorry-" Cartman rudely interrupted him to add, "Yeah, you should be. How could you go through your own best friend's phone and pretend to be some random chick he used to know to convince his girlfriend that he was cheating on her?" Stan tilted his head at Kyle. His frown deepened. "What is he talking about?" Kyle grabbed Stan's hands and squeezed them tight in his own. "Don't listen to Cartman. He's the dickhead who did all that. He created fake texts and everything." Stan gulped down his spit deeply. Now he really wished that those pain killers worked emotionally too.

"So that's why she left me." Stan croaked. His fingers curled into a tight fist. "Oh come on, Stan! It was gonna happen eventually! At least she didn't let you down too hard!" Cartman exclaimed behind him, his hand patted at Stan's stiff back. "Shut up, fatass!" Kyle snapped. Stan slowly turned his head towards Cartman. "You've went too far. Just... leave." Cartman stared at Stan up and down before shrugging. He walked back in without a second thought.

The moment everyone else left as well, Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle, his fingers digging deep into the other boy's shirt sleeves. Stan buried his head into the crook of Kyle's neck. "God fucking damnnit..." Kyle patted Stan's back more gently than Cartman, "Dude, it's not your fault. Things will get better, I promise." Stan nodded, swallowing the vomit threatening to escape his throat. He coughed, "Who was she?"

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iheartyouyou · 1 year

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Judas | Jimmy Darling

Summary: Elsa and Richard (Stanley) frame you for murdering Jimmy’s mother.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, mention of death, maybe more idk (not proofread)

Author’s Note: I don’t think there’s a bathroom in Jimmy’s trailer, but let’s pretend there is just for the sake of this fic. This was just a random idea I had and i love writing angst. Anyway, please leave feedback <3

Your eyes flutter open from the loud slam, a sudden hand grabs your arm, man-handling you out of bed.

Before you know it, you’re outside. Your eyes adjust to the new setting, everybody’s eyes on you as they form a group around you.

You look to see that Eve had both of your arms pinned behind your back, confusion hitting you.

You try to shuffle out of her strong grip, but it was no use.

“We took you in! How could you do this to her— to us?” Elsa shrieks, breaking down as she falls to her knees. Your boyfriend, Jimmy, is immediately by her side, placing a comforting hand in her shoulder as he glares at you with tears in his eyes.

“Wait— what happened?” You ask, trying to jump forward to reach your boyfriend. The grip on your arms only gets tighter.

“Don’t act stupid, Y/N. Give up the act.” Jimmy shouts, now standing up. You flinch at the harshness in his tone.

You look around the group, your eyes landing on Richard. He had a stupid smirk on his face, standing next to him was Maggie, a guilty look on hers.

“What act? I don’t even know what’s happening!” You cry, turning your head to stare up at Eve. You give her a pleading look. She looks away, shaking her head.

Elsa continued her sobs, chanting a prayer.

“What’s happening?” You shriek, watching as Maggie comforted Jimmy.

You furrowed your eyebrows, jealousy running through your veins. Ever since Maggie came, you’ve always been jealous.

She was a pretty girl and Jimmy was a handsome guy. Before you and Jimmy started dating, he was known as a womanizer. Flirting with every girl he set his eyes on and sleeping with every girl who flirted back.

You met him during one of your shifts as a waitress at the Camellia Grill. He flirted with you in hopes of not having to pay his bill, but you met guys like him. You told him the price of the food he ordered with a smirk on your face, watching in satisfaction as he slammed his money on the counter before leaving.

He came back the next day, requested that you served him and tried the same thing. He ended up paying again, but then he returned the day after, flirting with you once again.

Jimmy was confused. And hurt. He got every girl he wanted, his charms and good looks were the only thing he needed. But when you quickly shut him down, he felt like it was a mission to charm you.

He didn’t know what he wanted— wether that was a free bill or a kiss, or something even more than that— he didn’t care. It started off as a silly mission, but ended with you finally letting him leave without paying.

He didn’t come in the next day, which left you hurt. You knew he only wanted something, and he finally got it. Weeks of coming in, requesting you served him, flirting, just for a free bill?

You didn’t want to admit it, but you missed seeing his stupid face and the stupid mittens he would wear even though it was hotter than ever outside. He never told you why he wore them.

But one day, one of your co-workers gave you a note. They said it was from that handsome guy who always wanted you as his server. You practically ripped open the note, reading his sloppy handwriting.

He asked on the note if you could meet him outside when you were done with your shift.

When you shift was done, you headed outside to meet him. He was sitting on one of the benches, his face lightening up when he saw you.

He confessed his love to you, telling you he had to tell you before it was too late. You were so happy, the largest grin etched onto your lips. It quickly fell though when he told you that you guys couldn’t be together.

Jimmy didn’t want to explain why. He knew the second he removed those mittens you would freak out and leave him. A pretty girl like you couldn’t be seen with a freak like him.

You wanted to scream and slap him in the face, telling him to leave and never come back.

He couldn’t stand seeing you so sad, so before you could slap him he dragged you into the nearest alleyway and removed his mittens.

You let out the biggest gasp when you saw his lobster hands.

Jimmy quickly frowned, he couldn’t watch you run away from him so he looked away to save him the pain.

What took him by surprise though was when you took one of his hands, pressing your soft lips to them in a kiss.

You watch as the group separates, revealing the deceased body of Ethel. Jimmy’s mother.

You shriek, crying as you stare at the knife that was in her eye. “What happened to her? Who did this?”

Elsa abruptly stands up, stalking towards you. She points an accusing finger at you, angry tears running down her face. “You’re a monster. What type of human being would do this to someone? She was innocent, happy. The only freak here is you.”

“What?! I didn’t do that!” You shout, being released from Eva’s grip. She pushes you down, causing you to land on your knees.

You quickly get up, eyes finding Jimmy’s. “Jimmy? Baby?” You whimper.

“You are a monster! A MONSTER!” You hear Elsa shriek, pointing her finger into your chest.

You slap her hand away, “I didn’t do anything!”

“Maggie said she saw you stab Ethel this morning when she was in the woods.” Richard claims, your eyes snapping to Maggie’s.

Jimmy and her were hugging, his face nestled into the crook of her neck. She stares at you, a frown etched onto her lips.

“I didn’t do that! I was asleep—“ You point to Jimmy’s trailer, “In there! Jimmy was with me!”

Elsa laughs, “Really? Because if I can recall, Jimmy was rehearsing this morning.”

“I was asleep! You really think I would kill her? That doesn’t even make sense, she was like a mother to me!” You whimpered, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

Silence takes over, the only thing being heard was Jimmy’s cried and your sniffling.

“I didn’t kill her!” You shriek, staring at the dead body. You look up at Richard, a mischievous grin on his face. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

“You— you asshole!” You snap, watching as his grin slightly fell. “He’s framing me! He’s framing me! You have to believe me—“

“Put her on the spin wheel.” Elsa says calmly, fixing her hair as she smiles.

“What? What—“ You feel the same two arms, Eva, grab into yours, dragging you to the tent. “No! I didn't do anything! Jimmy!” You cried, trying to kick Eva. “Let go of me!”

You somehow kick Eva in the shin, causing her to groan. You slip out of her arms, making a run for it. You run past the group, but before you could make an exit the familiar arms of your so called boyfriend wrap around you. You struggle in his arms, crying.

“Let go of me! Please!” You wailed, trying to elbow him.

Normally, butterflies would be flying around in your stomach from Jimmy hugging you from behind. But now it was making you sick.

“Jimmy, please! I didn’t kill her, I promise. I love you— please!” You say, trying to convince him as he brings you back towards the tent. “Baby, please.”

“Shut up!” He shouts. He finally lets go, only to strap you on the wheel.

“Please.” You beg, struggling against his hold. He avoids your eyes, strapping you. “I didn’t kill her!” You scream for the millionth time, heart dropping as you watched Elsa hold up a knife.

She mimics throwing it at you, closing one if her eyes and she squints with the other.

Jimmy finally looks at you.

“jimmy, please. i didn’t kill her, he’s framing me. i don’t wanna die.” You whisper, your voice cracking. An emotion flashed in his eyes, quickly disappearing.

“Please.” You beg one last time.

“Rot in hell.” He seethed, “You’re gonna die.” He walks away, sitting down.

“Jimmy!” You scream. “No! Please!”

He ignores your pleads, looking down at his lap.

He loved you— he loves you. But his mom has been there for him ever since day one. If it were anyone but you, he would probably kill them himself. Elsa insisted she practice her act on you, before ending your life with a few knives to your body, letting you bleed out.

You look at Pepper. “Pepper? Hey! Remember when I made you that bow? The one you’re wearing? Get me down! Please!”

Pepper hesitates, looking at Salty. They share a look, but before they could do anything Richard stands in front of them, encouraging them to sit down.

“No! You fucking asshole!”

He smiles at you, walking towards you. “It’s unfortunate that your life has to end this way. Don’t worry, your lobster boy will be joining you soon.” He whispers, reaching over to spin the wheel.

“I knew it! You asshole, I fucking hate you!” You shriek, going upside down, then up, then upside down…

“I don’t know what she’s talking about.” He shrugs, backing away.

“He’s framing me- AH!” You shriek, the first knife thrown at you stabbing the wood beside your head.

“I can’t concentrate when you’re talking.” Elsa says, she stops the spinning, shoving a handkerchief into your mouth.

She spins the wheel again, “that’s much better.”

Your pleads are now muffled, the only thing going through your mind was that you were too young to die.

Another knife gets thrown your way, stabbing the wood on the other side of your face. You were getting a headache now from the spinning.

You stop your pleads, shutting your eyes as you accepted your fate.

You should’ve refused to serve Jimmy the second time he came.

You should’ve gotten another job.

You should’ve re—

“Wait! Elsa— stop!” You hear Jimmy’s voice. Jesus, were you now imagining things?

“What are you doing?” You hear Elsa snap.

You were now imagining Elsa’s voice? You didn’t want her voice to be the last thing you ever heard.

You suddenly stop spinning, your eyes snapping open as you meet Jimmy’s.

“Shit…” He mutters, unbuckling the straps. He looks at you, frowning. “I’m so sor—“

“What are you doing?!” Elsa repeats, pushing Jimmy out of the way. Her face was red, smoke practically coming out of her ears.

Jimmy pushes her back, sending her to the ground. Elsa looks up a him, betrayal written all over her face.

“Maggie told me everything.” He snaps, turning to look at the rest of the group. “Unstrap her.”

Pepper immediately skips to you, Eve following.

Eve takes the handkerchief out of your mouth, throwing it somewhere behind you.

“W-what’s happening?” You ask, Pepper taking your hand to lead you away from the wheel as you were unbuckled.

“Yes, what is happening?” Richard asks, standing up from his seat. You watch as Maggie tells him something, a smile forming on her lips as Richard freezes.

Pepper leaves you with Salty, skipping back to Jimmy. He tells her something, motioning to you before looking back at Elsa’s figure on the ground. You watch as he tells Eve something. Eve nods, lifting Elsa up.

“Desiree— what’s happening?” You ask nervously, scared of what she was going to say. Were they planning on killing you some other brutal way? Chop of your limbs? Bury you alive?

Desiree stares at her husband who was now manhandling Richard. “You don’t wanna know.”

“But I do! What the hell is happening?” You insist.

Pepper comes skipping back, taking your hand once again and starts leading you out of the tent. Salty follows.

You were beyond confused. One second you’re on you’re death bed, or should you say death wheel and now you’re being lead back to Jimmy’s trailer.

Oh god, were they going to kill you in his trailer? Maybe you can make a run for it?

They lead you into his trailer, helping you sit on the bed. Pepper grabs the blanket that was near you, handing it to you as Salty grabs a pillow.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” You speak, dropping the pillow Salty gave you to the side.

“S…. safe! Safe!” Pepper says excitedly. Salty and her jump around the trailer, giggling.

They stop when the door swings open, revealing Paul. “Hey, Y/N. Are yo—“

“What’s going on?” You ask. You said that phrase a lot today, it seemed like you only knew those three words.

He hesitates for a moment, moving the pillow beside you to take seat. He shushes Pepper and Salty, turning to you.

“You didn’t kill Ethel.”

“I know that. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you guys.” You snap, almost feeling bad when Paul slightly flinches. He frowns.

“I know and we’re taking care of them.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “Taking care of who?”

“Elsa and Richard… or Stanley.”

“What are you guys doing to them—“

“Jimmy said not to tell ya.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. You had the largest headache, from all the yelling, pleading, spinning… so much has happened and it hadn’t even been an hour since you woke up.

You stand up, almost falling from how dizzy you were.

“Hey, where ar—“ Paul starts, reaching out to you.

“I need to pee.” You mumble, backing away. You stumble to the bathroom, slamming the door as you slide against it to the ground.

You were confused, hurt, dizzy and exhausted all at the same time. It’s crazy how they just believed anything they heard, believing that you actually killed Ethel. And the fact that Jimmy— your boyfriend who is supposed to love and support you just believed them? Without no proof? Without even talking to you? He was supposed to trust and defend you. And everybody else? They just simply believed their lies. You have done so much for everybody, and they all just sit there and watch you almost get killed.

Nice to know they would most likely throw you under the bus if something like this happened again.

“Baby?” You hear, along with a knock.

You didn’t realize how long you were in the bathroom, zoning out as thoughts flooded your mind.

“Y/N?” You hear Jimmy speak from the other side of the door. The doorknob shakes. “I’m so sorry.”

You stay silent, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“Baby? Can you please come out? O-or let me in?” He says, trying the doorknob once again.

You stare at the window. You knew you were right when you first saw Jimmy Darling. He is just like any other guy, only wanting one thing and willing to throw you under the bus.

“Please? I can explain everything, I promise sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.”

You get up, cautiously moving to the window while looking at the door. It could open any minute. You climb on top of the toilet, opening the window but stopping when it creeks.

“Y/N?”

Opening the rest of the window slowly, you peek your head out to make sure the coast was clear before somehow climbing out. The window was kind of small and only opened to a certain point.

You climb out head first, falling to the ground with a groan. Still, you get up. You look around, hearing Jimmy’s faint voice coming from the inside of his trailer before making a run to the main road.

#jimmy darling #jimmy darling x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #james patrick march #kai anderson #ahs #american horror story #ahs freakshow #freakshow #freak show #jimmy darling imagine #tate langdon #kyle spencer #angst #imagine #evan peters imagine

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joesheistyy · 1 year

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My Musician - Joe Burrow

Am I avoiding doing homework? Yes I absolutely am. As a music education major, I came up with this idea of playing with the Cincinnati Symphony cause my oboe playing ass wants to play professionally some day :)

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Joe had practice and you had rehearsal for your upcoming concert. Recently, you two haven't been able to spend much time together. Between his football practices, your rehearsals, your individual practice sessions, and his games, time together was hard to coordinate. Many nights were spent going to bed at different times, eating separately, and waking up at different times. You really missed your Joey and you knew he missed his musician.

It just so happened that your evenings lined up for a single night. You were both so excited to get to catch up on all the things you'd been lacking. Joe had returned home from practice before you were able to make it home, so he began to chef up an amazing dinner for the two of you. A night in was what you both wanted most.

As Joe heard the garage door open, he slipped on his shoes to meet you at the car to help you carry your things in.

"How's my musician?" He asked, leaning down to you in the drivers seat to lay a kiss on your tired lips.

"Not bad, those rehearsals just wear me out," you sighed, getting out of the car. Joe already knew where you put all your stuff, so he grabbed your big ol' double backpack case containing your oboe and English horn and your cloth Trader Joe's bag containing all your reed tools. He really admired your craft, especially watching you make your reeds and see how tedious it gets.

Joe followed your lead into the house, making sure to shut the garage door and lock the door from the garage to the house. Joe also knew how much you hated to climb all your stuff up the stairs because of how burdensome it would get, so he took it straight up to your office. As you set down your drink cups on the island, you unscrewed the top to your Stanley tumbler and refilled it with fresh ice and water. Rehearsals made you SO thirsty.

Joe came down and gave you a proper hug this time. He was always eager to hear about your rehearsals.

"How did everything go today," he questioned as he walked toward the stove to stir the pot of noodles.

"Really not too bad, I think this concert cycle is gonna be great, I just need to work on some reeds soon. I don't really have any great concert-ready reeds," You said, taking a sip of your water and grabbing a block of cheese to shred out of the fridge. You and Joe just knew how to work together in the kitchen.

"Good babe! I'm glad things are going well. How long do you think this concert will be?" He asked, salting the water again.

"Maybe two hours but that would include intermission," You replied.

"Oh that's really not too bad. I'm excited to get to come to the concert! I love to listen to you play, even if it's when you're practicing and cussing at the same time," he joked and pulled you into a hug.

You inhaled his cologne as he depend the hug. The small back rubs he gave you were so soothing to your sore back. Sitting in those damn chairs for so long got to be painful in so many different places.

"Soooo, what's the plan for tonight? I've missed you so much lately and I just want to be close with you," you asked and pulled away from the hug, looking up at his glorious face.

"I was thinking we should just stay in. Maybe watch a movie, play a game, or take a bath. We just need a relaxing night, what do you think?" He asked, kissing the top of your head and walking back to the stove to stir the pasta.

"That sounds like the best idea every Joey," you smiled down at the cheese as you finished grating it.

You both continued to cook dinner and once it was ready, you served up your plates and took them to the dining room. You opted for a glass of wine after a long day, and Joe stuck to water since he's in the middle of the football season.

When the two of you would make small conversation, it would usually be about football or the symphony. Joe absolutely loved to learn about what you did for your job but also for fun. You both love how you get to do stuff that feels like fun and not like a job.

"Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you! The maestro was complimenting me a bunch during this rehearsal. It made me feel so good," you did a dance in your chair, "we were playing the Firebird Suite by Stravinsky. Do I love that piece and have I loved it for years? Uh, YES. So hearing compliments from the maestro really made me feel good," you smiled, taking another bite of food.

"That's awesome, babe! Is that the one you've been practicing lately?" Joe asked, always curious about your musical journey.

"Maybe? I don't really remember, I practice so much different stuff it could've been anything that you heard me working on," you replied, looking up at the lights, remembering how much repertoire you've been looking at and working on lately.

After your dinner was finished, you both opted for a bath and some cuddles in bed. You both headed up to the bedroom, Joe following you up the stairs and admiring your ass and poking at it a few times. However, tonight you both just wanted to snuggle and catch up.

You started to heat up the bath water, making sure it was sufficiently warm for the two of you. Sprinkling in some Epsom salts really added to the bath. You and Joe both slid in quickly, resting your back against Joe's chest. The bathtub was one of your favorite additions to the house you two designed. It was long enough for both of your tall statures.

You rested your head on Joe's chest and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. "How has football been going lately?" you began to pry.

"Everything has been going well as normal, but I don't wanna talk football. I just wanna relax with you," He said, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You scooted your body down in the tub, trying to get your shoulders under the warm water along with the rest of your body. Joe followed your lead and slid down in the bath a little more, making sure you were comfy.

After sufficiently becoming wrinkled prunes in the bath tub, you both got out, dried off, and put on comfy clothes. You opted for a pair of PJ shorts and one of Joe's big t-shirts. There was something so cozy about them. Joe was wearing boxers and only boxers. His body shining in the dim light of the bedroom.

You both climbed into bed, turning on the TV and agreeing on Spongebob. You snuggled up to Joe and he made sure to hold you tight. The feeling of his arms around you was something you never wanted to go without. Soon after turning off the lights, you both fell asleep.

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As concert day rolled around, your nerves grew. A pit in your stomach forming each time you thought about getting on stage. That meant you cared though, right?

You had spent the past few days working on new reeds to prepare for the concert. Joe would stop in and visit your in-home office when he could. He was always mesmerized by your reed making skills.

When you and Joe had opportunities to see each other, he would always talk about how excited he was to come see you perform. Of course, that made you nervous and he could tell, but he knew how to get your mind off of it.

You spent time in the bathroom getting ready before the concert, making sure to curl your hair and apply subtle and simple makeup. You really hoped you could get a picture with Joe. You had so many of him in uniform, and you'd love to have on together in your "uniform." and your instrument. All your loves together.

Joe was so excited to see you play he even let you help him pick out his outfit, which he never does. He loves to claim that he has great style.

You headed to the symphony hall, all of your concert supplies in hand/on back/on arm. Joe gave you a gentle kiss goodbye and through that kiss, you could tell how eager he was to see you in your element. Joe dropped you off and went to go find parking.

After warming up before the concert, you sat on stage and looked into the concert hall, trying to find Joe. Eventually, you spotted his tall figure on stage right about 4 rows back. He smiled at you when he noticed you were looking for him.

As the concert went on, you played all of your solos beautifully. When you were pleased after your little solos, a small smile would always show up on your face, the maestro smiling back at you. Joe loved hearing you play "in context" as you would joke. He could tell you were happy with your performance by the amount of times he saw you smile.

After the concert was over, you spent time backstage talking with your fellow musicians. Everyone was super pleased with the concert. Eventually, Joe made his way backstage where the significant others and children of the musicians would meet. He had a gorgeous bouquet of flowers in his hands, his tall stature looking over everyone, trying to find you.

When he saw you, his eyes lit up with how happy you looked. He approached you, and when you saw him, you could not have been happier. He handed the flowers over to you, giving you a kiss and telling you how proud of you he was. It was a nice change of events. So many times it had been the other way around, which of course you didn't mind.

"Joey, let's take a picture!" you suggested, to which he agreed.

You both had huge, excited smiles on your faces as your picture was taken. Your oboe in hand and Joe pulled close made for an extremely cute picture.

"Babe let me take one of you with your oboe and your flowers and we can send it to your parents," Joe suggested, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. You stood and posed, a proud smile on your face. Joe smiled as he took your picture.

After getting all the pictures you wanted, you packed your things up. Joe offered to carry your bags, but you disagreed. Heading to the car, Joe took one of your bags off your shoulder, not allowing you to fight him over it.

"How about some celebratory ice cream?" Joe asked, helping you load your things into the car.

"I think you already know the answer to that," you smiled at him as he opened your door.

"Whatever you say, my musician," He replied, heading toward your favorite ice cream shop.

After getting both of your favorite ice cream flavors, you headed home to celebrate your amazing performance and enjoy some time with Joe. The concert stress washed away with each bite of ice cream.

You both headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Phones left on the counter, in the midst of texting your friends and family about your successful concert.

Joe had left the bathroom for a minute, but his phone stayed on the counter. It lit up, signaling a text from someone. The only thing you could notice though was his new lock screen.

His musician.

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