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#idk but i love this painting and everything it could mean!
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he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.
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jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).
(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).
since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.
when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.
it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.
it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.
but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.
"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.
and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"
his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?
understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."
he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"
how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?
"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.
he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."
and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.
"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.
you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.
"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"
your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.
his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."
you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.
"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.
"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"
despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.
"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."
his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."
that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.
at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.
but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.
and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"
your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"
her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."
you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."
your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"
you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.
"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"
"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.
"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.
"being forgotten?" your friend asked.
"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.
"you look like you have someone in mind."
a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.
"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.
you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.
"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.
"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."
and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.
you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.
his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"
you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.
"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"
he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.
the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.
you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"
from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.
one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.
"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."
"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.
"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."
you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."
"we miss you so much. see you soon?"
you agreed, thanked her for her help.
"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."
having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.
"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.
"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."
the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.
very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.
you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.
they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."
"what if he's not interested?"
"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."
"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"
your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"
so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.
when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.
you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.
you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.
you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.
a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.
a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.
your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.
you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.
you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.
the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.
"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.
"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"
your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."
you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.
he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"
you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.
during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.
"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.
the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.
even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.
with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.
the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?
"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.
jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.
his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."
with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.
"have a game, sugar, here we go."
you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.
bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.
jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.
his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.
for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.
"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.
you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.
"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.
you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?
"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.
his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.
you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"
without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.
on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.
"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.
"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.
you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.
everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.
so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?
you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.
his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."
"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."
he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."
you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.
you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.
you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.
his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.
the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.
surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.
you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.
the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.
he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.
you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.
"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.
he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"
you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.
the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.
one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.
"alright," you chastised.
"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."
your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.
"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.
"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."
you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.
pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.
you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.
and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?
i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.
careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?
your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.
but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.
the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.
a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.
"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.
"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.
he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."
the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.
"what?" he said, grinning.
you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."
and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.
he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.
what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.
"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.
his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.
you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.
that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.
and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"
and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.
you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.
"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.
and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.
maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.
"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.
"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."
you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.
and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.
too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.
"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.
so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.
your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.
a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.
"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.
it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.
he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."
you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.
"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.
you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.
and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.
you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.
jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"
you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."
his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.
you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"
"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.
he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.
you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.
when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.
"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.
you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.
but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.
as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.
"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.
deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.
and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.
after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.
later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.
after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.
kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.
he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.
his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.
when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.
he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.
you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.
"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.
you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.
you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.
but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.
you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.
the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.
while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.
then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.
you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.
walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.
"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.
his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.
you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.
this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.
"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.
"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.
"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.
he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.
he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.
he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.
you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.
he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.
you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."
you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.
he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.
he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.
"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.
one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.
he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."
"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.
jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."
when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.
"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.
you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.
luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.
you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.
most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.
"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.
the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.
walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.
"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.
he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.
you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.
jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.
you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.
something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.
"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.
you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.
"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.
"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.
you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"
he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.
would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?
the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.
a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.
jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.
"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.
your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.
you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.
the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.
you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."
he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.
as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?
the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.
you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.
it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.
you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.
you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.
"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."
later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.
but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.
"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.
"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.
"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.
you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.
he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.
you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.
"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.
"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"
you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.
you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.
staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.
he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.
you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.
"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."
you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."
never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."
he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.
"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."
the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.
his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"
you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.
"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"
you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.
he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.
everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.
you should have known it wouldn't last long.
a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.
something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.
maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.
and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.
and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.
a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?
it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.
but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.
and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.
it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.
so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.
still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.
the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.
at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.
"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.
he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."
and that had been the end of that.
so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.
you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.
you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.
"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."
you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.
"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.
he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"
you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."
seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.
and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.
every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.
he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.
he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.
when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.
"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.
when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.
how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?
jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.
you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.
you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.
of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.
until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.
you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.
the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.
the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.
like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.
slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.
it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.
because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.
finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.
in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.
waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.
you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.
"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.
you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.
"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.
you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.
auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."
and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.
the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.
time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.
you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.
you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."
for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.
you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.
you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.
for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.
"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.
you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.
he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"
you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.
"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."
you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.
you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.
"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.
"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.
"yes."
"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.
you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."
there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."
you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."
he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."
you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."
he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.
so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.
he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.
and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.
"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."
he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.
you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."
in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.
when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."
it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.
"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.
you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.
"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.
and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.
it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.
he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.
"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.
"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."
you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.
you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.
you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.
you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.
you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.
"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."
there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.
he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.
that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.
"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.
fin.
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scarletlizzard · 2 months
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OH I SEE YOURE TAKING REQUESTS...what about emo!wanda x emo!reader but wanda is like >:( and reader is more ^_^ happy and then reader is best friend's bucky and wanda is so jealous. idk it can be fluff or smut !! ( i tried to be a little more specific
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Jealousy
Pairing: wanda x female reader
Tags Minors DNI: smut, wanda in a skirt, fingering (R receiving), little arguing, jealousy!
A/N: Hiii anon! Thank you soo much for your request!! It's been a busy week sorry for being late, but I hope this is okay and you enjoy jealous Wanda 😊
Wanda knows deep down that you would never cheat on her. She knows how much you loved her, how much you cared about her. In the time she's spent here at the Avengers campus, she's only ever taken a real liking to you, not interested in truly getting to know the others. And you, thankfully, gave her everything she needed.
But right now, she couldn't help the heavy feeling in her chest as she watched you with your best friend.
She stood with her arms crossed, biting down on her lip so hard it may just bleed, staring at you and Bucky. Wanda watches as your hand touches his arm, your head thrown back in a fit of laughter. He smiles at you with fond eyes, and oh, she can't take it anymore.
"Having fun?" She asks, words coming out more bitterly than she had planned.
"Wanda!" You say, and the way you beam at her almost makes her feel guilty. Then Bucky turns too, with his arm slung around your shoulder.
"Come to join in? We could actually use your help. It turns out both of us are shit at baking," Bucky jokes, and you both laugh, looking at the mess around the kitchen.
Your smile fades, though when you see the seriousness in Wandas face. Buckys arm slowly slides off of you, scratching his head awkwardly in the silence. Wanda tilts her head and okay, you were fucked.
"Actually, you know," Bucky clears his throat and looks at the time. "I was supposed to meet Steve for training a little bit ago." His metal arm pats your shoulder, giving you a good luck look before walking out of the kitchen.
"Baby... what's wrong?" You frown and walk around the counter to her, your hands moving up to her shoulders. She shrugs you off, crossing her arms. "What's your problem?" You ask, annoyed she was pushing you away.
"What's my problem?" Wanda spits out, a sarcastic laugh leaving her lips. "My problem is you two are always all over each other! He's always looking at you like he wants to fuck you!"
"That's not true!" You defend, raising your voice to match hers. "Bucky is my best friend, that's it! That's all we've ever been, all we will be."
"Right, okay. You're literally always hanging out with him, I dont see why you have to spend so much time together." She rolls her eyes.
"We're friends!"
"Friends don't eye fuck the other friend! Don't be so stupid."
Your eyes widen at her words.
"Sorry you don't have any friends to hangout with because you fucking hate everyone." You cross your arms, dishing it out as she does.
"Fuck you," Wanda replies.
"Just because you're jealous doesn't mean you have to take it out on me."
Her eyes shoot daggers at you.
"Jealous? I am not jealous." She seethes, taking a step forward. Your back hits the counter as you take a step back, her usually soft green eyes dark as she peers into yours.
"You are so jealous." You bite your lip, taking in her angry appearance. She wore your zip-up jacket over her shirt, a dark skirt around her hips. Her fingernails were still black from when she painted them the other day.
Wanda doesn't speak, she only takes another step, pressing her chest against yours. The tension between the two of you built up with every word spoken.
"I'm not jealous, Y/N. You want to know why?" She asks, her hands move to the counter behind you, trapping you in her presence. You only look up in reply, with a questioning look. "Because you're mine. And if I have to remind you of that again, I will."
Wandas eyes flash red, and you feel yourself being lifted a few inch onto the counter.
"Wanda, what are you-" You look around the empty kitchen and to her, who is now level face to face. Her hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart, and you've never been more grateful for stealing one of her shorter skirts this morning.
"What if someone walks in?" You ask, feeling the wetness pool in your panties at the way she kisses your neck.
"Hopefully, it'll be him." She mumbles, and your cheeks burn red at the possibility. You feel her fingers slide your soaked panties to the side. You grip onto the jacket she wore, pulling her as close as possible.
"So wet, detka... tell me who made you this way," Wanda whispers, and you feel her fingers dip inside of you easily. You bite back a moan as she begins to move them.
"You, Wanda.. fuck - just you," you lean forward, pressing your face against her neck as she fingers you right there.
"Don't hide those pretty moans, let me hear you."
"I'm yours!" You moan out.
"Say it again."
"I'm yours, Wanda," you pant against her skin, her fingers thrusting inside of you at a quicker pace. When you feel her thumb press against your clit you feel that familiar burn in the pit of your stomach.
"Nobody else is allowed to touch you like this except for me." She whispers against your neck and bites down, marking you as hers. You nod desperately, holding onto her as tight as you can.
"Baby, I-I'm so close," you moan into her ear as her fingers work inside of you, and she smirks at the delightful whimpers that leave your lips.
"That's my good girl... let go detka. Tell them who you belong to," she says, forcing your head out of the crook of her neck. Her grip is strong in your hair, and your legs tremble around her. It's not long before you pathetically are moaning, "Wanda!" Into the kitchen, releasing onto her fingers, your panties now drenched.
Wanda takes all you have and removes her fingers from inside you, slipping them into her mouth. Her eyes burn red at the taste, and she pulls you into a heated kiss, making you taste yourself on her tongue.
You pull back to catch your breath, letting your head hit her shoulder hard. She chuckles at how cute you were and wraps her arms around you, you do the same. The two of you hold each other for a moment as you sit on the counter still.
"I'm sorry, for saying what I said..." Wanda says, her voice soft. Your fingers move in circles on her back.
"I know... I'm sorry, too. I promise there's nothing going on between us. I love you so much." You kiss her jaw, and she smiles.
"I don't hate everyone, you know," she jokes, lightening the mood. "I especially love you."
You can't help but laugh, pulling back to see the now playful look on her face. Wandas soft spot for you made your chest swell, you loved how different she treated you.
"You only love me," you giggle and kiss her nose. She groans and rolls her eyes.
"Fine, you're right," she chuckles and leans forward to give you a sweet kiss.
A noise from behind you pulls you from her kiss, you see Bucky standing in the doorway clearing his throat. You hop off the counter, feeling Wandas arm wrapp protectively around your waist.
"Forgot my phone," he says with a hint of pink on his cheeks and points to the phone next to you. You watch as the phone glows red, and it's suddenly floating in the air towards him. He catches it as it drops in front of him.
You turn to Wanda, watching her eyes return to green with an unbothered look on her face.
"You know, you kinda really scare me. I like it," Bucky says to Wanda, a smile taking over his face. You groan and put a hand over your face. Wanda can't help the smirk on her face, satisfied with herself as the man leaves with a wave.
"Happy?" You ask, turning to look at her satisfied smirk. You take her hand in yours, feeling the cool metal of her rings against your fingers.
"Very," she beams down at you, kissing your cheek.
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For all of the “Raph raised himself AND his brothers” fans out there I bring this train wreck of a thought (I’m a lil sleepy so sorry if it doesn’t make sense or if I repeat myself a lot-)
We do not in fact have any actual evidence that splinter was neglectful to the boys when they were little. In fact, we have the opposite.
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All of these flashbacks indicate that Splinter acc spent a LOT of time with his boys-
With Mikey, he was obviously coached in his art, a smol child can’t paint like that no matter how talented they are so we can see that splinter put in the time/effort to get Mikey the supplies and teach him how to do it well. Which probably means he researched and learned it himself first, idk I just can’t really see Yoshi knowing how to paint/draw that well but that’s just a theory.
With raph and Leo, their lemonade stand is structurally sound: obviously not put together by an 8 year old, and there’s a lotta lemons lyin around that were probably a bit difficult to find, and just LOOK at their faces here they are definitely familiar with this kind of father/son shenaniganizing-also just LOOK at raph. That’s a happy child, one full of excitement and happiness, not a kid who had to grow up too fast. Also his dad is literally right there in the picture
And then with Donnie, I can’t really tell what he’s doing in the background (it’s a bomb) but what i take from that screenshot is that Donnie feels safe/loved enough to come to Splinter when he gets hurt. And Splinters taking care of him!! And, Donnie is wearing clothes, which shows that he went out and got clothes for them but also didn’t force the boys to wear them if they didn’t want to (see other screenshots lol) which also goes to show that he lets his boys choose who they wanna be and what they wanna do. At any point he could’ve forced all of them to train as ninja, at any point he could’ve made clothes mandatory, and at any point he could’ve forced them to drop things that made them happy like skating or science or art but nah. He was supportive every step of the way.
Now am I saying he was perfect? No. Am I saying he couldn’t have done anything better? No. What I’m saying is that Raph acc did not have to raise himself and his brothers. Splinter acc gave them a pretty good childhood, all things considered and it kinda makes me sad when ppl bash Rise Splinter or continue the neglectful parent trope. Again, I’m not saying he did everything right, he def could have spent more time with his kids on an individual basis and he should’ve been more present, but let’s cut him some slack bc he did a really good job at raising the boys. And he got so much better as the show progressed! But that’s another post lol. I’m also not trying to take away Raphs oldest sibling syndrome, he still def has that from being the leader and watching his bros while splinter was away-I’m just saying he didn’t have to do it ALL alone.
Look in the end he’s doing his best and his best was really good for what they had. He’s a good dad, he’s not neglectful.
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ooffmlsorry · 5 months
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OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"
A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️
Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo
Sanji
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Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!
He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.
A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.
Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.
Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.
He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨
He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors
Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma
Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀
ZORO
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He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one
He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled
But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.
Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend
He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.
In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.
Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.
Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute
Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.
You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.
He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"
Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown
LAW
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I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.
Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy
Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.
He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.
Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.
Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.
You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.
He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute
He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it
Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.
LUFFY
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I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭
He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.
Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.
He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's
Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)
He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy
Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals
Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you
*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.
You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.
He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.
Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.
He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.
ACE
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Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!
He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol
...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol
Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.
Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!
I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol
Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.
He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢
All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.
He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels
I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.
He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you
Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol
SABO
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Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol
Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???
Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???
If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol
"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter
He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.
And brags about your skills to everyone
Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo
There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that
Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better
He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest
He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting
He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️
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luveline · 6 months
Note
I love the KBD universe 🩵🩵. It’s so soft and comforting. Idk how you always write such gentle slice of life moments that stay soft even when there’s moments of conflict.
I was rereading the series, and in one scene Steve asks reader if they wanna make out, but Avery comes in before they can. Can I request a scene where they do get to make out (nothing super spicy) and spend that time with each other? I know it’s got to be difficult with four kids.
kisses before dinner —you and Steve languish in some rare alone time. mom!reader, 1k
"Hello," you whisper.
He looks up in surprise, eyebrows lifted. That surprise quickly melds to a soft-boned happiness as you sit in his lap —he's splayed sideways on the armchair, and you have to sit sort of sideways on him to meet his eyes. 
"Everybody's sleeping," you say, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes as the TV light paints him a blur of multicolour. "Even Wren." 
He looks up. "How'd you do that?" 
You told him to relax for a bit before bath time. He must've gotten distracted by the TV, which he doesn't often get to watch lately, and so you hadn't really minded. Full time childcare is exhausting. It comes to something when you're nearly happy to go to work, though coming home every night is still what you wait for, and it's thanks to him that you can drive home in excitement.  
"I'm multi-talented." You nestle your way under his chin, his arms curling around you as though they have a job to do. Firm. Immediate. "Wren went down like a miracle. I only had to rub her back." 
"Avery?" Steve asks. 
Avery's under the weather, so you let her skip bath time and tucked her in, sending her to sleep with little more than a forehead kiss. Beth was similarly eager for bed, knocking out after half of a story, her hand insistently in yours. Dove, in contrast, took three times as long to settle, but was convinced by the pad of your pinky finger as it traced up and down the bridge of her nose. 
"Tactile creatures, your girls," you murmur. 
"Where do they get it from?" he asks as he begins to stroke a quarter circle into your back. "Tokyo Olympics called again. Team USA needs you on their roster." 
He's declaring you impressive for such a feat as tonight's solo bed time. "The answer's still no. I don't think anyone wants to see me in a leotard." 
"I do," he says, kissing the top of your head. His lips soft, his voice the same, he hugs you closer still. "I so do. You look nice in everything." 
You could fall asleep like this, in his arms, his lap, your face drifting down his chest as you curl into his warmth. There's nowhere else you'd rather be (besides possibly bed, but even then you'd need it to be with him). "Thanks, Steve." 
"You're welcome." 
The room is quiet. The house stirs and rain lashes the darkened windows every now and then with the indecisive winds, whistling through tree branches far away. You shiver at the sound and Steve sets your goosebumps right with bigger strokes of his hand, a familiar up and down pressed into your back. Pressure to distract the senses. 
"Thanks for doing bed time." 
You wave it away. It's nice to be appreciated, but in the face of everything he does you don't want any thank yous tonight. "I just wanted to spend some time with you." 
"Yeah?" he asks, sinking lower into the armchair, the majority of your weight following down onto his abdomen rather than his legs. 
"I really…" missed isn't the right word. You missed him while you were at work, and time spent with him and the girls is just as worthy and sweet as time alone, but that doesn't mean you can't want both. "I've been thinking about you." 
Steve doesn't flinch at your odd wording, the opposite. He knuckles trail loosely to the small of your back, a smugness to the curve of his lips as he smiles, and says, "I've been thinking about you." 
Steve usually looks handsome. You've seen him bedraggled, dishevelled, and exhausted, of course, but he puts a majesty into nearly everything he does. He can take a plate down from one of the kitchen cabinets or hike one of your sweethearts onto his hip and you'll remark to yourself about how pretty he looks. This isn't taking into consideration how attractive you find his heart (that list is endless —compassion, dedication, loyalty, etc). The stuff you love about Steve goes on and on and on.
You curl a hand behind his head and card through his hair, not sure what to say. His eyes meet yours. "They don't have a word for how much I love you, H." 
His voice rasps with a low pleasure, "I could think of a bunch for you. Only if you want. I'm smart like that." 
Your lips twitch. "Please," you say, giving his scalp a playful scratch. 
"Endlessly," he begins. "Eternally. Overflowingly." He leans forward to touch your noses together. "Fuck," —he laughs as he searches for another— "started so strong. Uh… infinitely. A whole fucking lot?" 
"Loads." 
You both laugh, the heat of the others breath like a phantom of a kiss between you. 
"Loads," he agrees. "Wickedly." 
"Deviously?" 
"Ambitiously. A shit ton." 
You kiss him gingerly, not worried he won't kiss back but wanting to stay in this moment for as long as you can. "Love you loads," you say against his lips. 
With your eyes closed you can't see his expression, but you can guess at what he's doing. Steve likely has his brows sewn together, a grimace on his lips that might suggest the opposite of what he's feeling. 
He acts like kissing you is the only thing that he could ever need, that this intermission is painful but absolutely necessary. "I love you," he says. He whispers your name, raising his hand to cup your cheek. His marriage finger rubs a mindless little shape into the soft skin under your eye. "I love you." 
You wrap your arms around his neck and hook him closer, smiling into a second and much less ginger kiss. 
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rzyraffek · 2 months
Note
Hii! I’d love to see some slasher possessive tendencies (nothing dramatic, just small things that show how obsessed they are with their s/o). And I’d love to see Brahms included please and thank you! 👀💕
Ello! Most of slashers are incredibly possessive😭 good luck with that.
Gender neutral s/o!
Slashers being obsessive and possessive of their s/o
Brahms
Physical touch. His hands are always on them. ESPECIALLY around when yall are around other people. Others have to know that they are together!!!
Goes with s/o EVERYTHERE. They must go to shop with them! Wanna go outside and walk in peace and silence in garden? Uhh nah he wanna go with you! Even if s/o asks nicley to leave tjem be he might spy on them :[
Will share everything with s/o! His clothes? Our clothes you mean! Please wear his shirts! Its also vice versa, s/o's jewellery and clothes are also his. They gonna catch him using their favourite cologne or wearing their jewellery!
Wants to hold hands 24/7, doesnt care if s/o sweats! He loves them too much~
Sometimes s/o can wake up and this guy will be glued to them! Im taking wrapped arms and legs around them and s/o can feel his chest moving up cuz its so close😭
Asa Emory
Bro is not letting them leave his warehouse. Yeah sweetie he loves you but you are just too too perfect for him to let you go :[
Bonds by watching animal documentaries about bugs btw
Picks clothes for s/o. He takes your style and preferences in his mind but usually forgets and just buys what would look good on you (at least what he finds cute)
Not very clingy
Lets them paint his nails if they are nice enough
EXTREMELY jelous. S/o mentioned that some guy smiled to them when they were buying groceries? He will get offended😭
The hush
8 years later and I still have no clue what his name was??? Let's call him John because people seem to call him that
John will keep his hand AND eyes on them. Hands on their legs, shoulder, or just holding their hand (thats rare, normal affection with this Goober? Nahh)
Constantly staring at them, looming around and looking what they lover is up to (up to no good surely)
Makes them play video games with him or watch them play
Checks their phone when they are asleep cuz he gotta know everything
Micheal Myers
👁👁
No touching, no verbal nor physical affecion
Dude will hit them with 👍 on daily basis
He seems like he doesnt care, like he has them around for no reason. But of God, this guy knows everything about them. He watches them daily. You can't find Micheal? Oh dont worry sweetie he is keeping you safe, just dont look thrue window :3
Extreme jelousy, s/o can bearly talk to people😭
Okay okay I lied with no touching, its just rare! Sometimes he rests his head on top of theirs or puts his hands on their shoulders or hips
If s/o makes something from him (like drawing, peace of jewellery. Hell, even if they gift him random rock or something) that dude if gonna wear it till the end of the world, even if it breaks off? He has pockets or tape. Even if s/o skill improved and they made better? The more the marrier, he wants all!
Billy Lenz
Gets jelous when s/o gives too much affection and love to their pet
Lays on top of them
Bites, licks, woofs? As a sign of affection and love
He wants the bite marks or Hickeys to be visable so s/o friends know that they are taken!
Not as extreme as Micheal or Asa. S/o could have 2week trip to Egypt and as far as he gets to call them whenever he wants, he is fine
I still remember one time that someone requested Billy Lenz fic, asking for 'sloppy toppy' and it was 4 am and I didnt know what it was so I googled it and I kinda laughed very loudly and my mom woke up and took my pc away for month :( I wrote the fic btw
Anyways, barks at people when he gets jelous
Some of their behaviours might sound toxic or are literal red flag, but POOKIE THOSE ARE MURDERS😭🙏😱 idk if I still got the skill to write, it was a wild 8month break
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redstarwriting · 10 months
Text
hobie brown with a pink gf
hobie brown x badass pink!fem!reader hcs
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request?: yes
request: “HI RED!!!! idk if you’ve done this already but i really wanna see what hobie would be like with a badass pink!gf. like she wears pink demonias nd stuff but can like hold her own yk? i hope this makes sense LMAO”
requested by: anon
warnings:  language, mentions of stealing, alluding to s*xual harassment from men, cops
a/n: omggg the only person i could think of with this request is chrissy chlapecka wearing her all pink outfits and telling everyone to hit men with their cars LMAO thank you for the request, anon🖤
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- givin me chrissy chlapecka vibes - he loves it - listen - if you have any type of distinct style or attitude going against what most people believe - or one that challenges any type of authority or societal beliefs - Hobie immediately respects you - doesn’t necessarily mean he will be best friends with you - but he respects people who he can see have that kind of rebellious “fuck the patriarchy” attitude - so when he saw you - all pink outfit - pink makeup - pink accessories - pink boots that look like they could kill a man - exactly what you intend with said boots btw - he respected it - especially since you seemed to be taking the stereotypical “girl color” (whatever the fuck that means) and putting a spin on it they wouldn’t like - and girl when he saw you kick some man’s ass - all pretty in pink? - he was like ooh yeah - oh she’s the one - he loves to steal anything and everything pink that he sees - all for you - and he does - this style you have is the definition of him saying “Wear whatever you want, I can fight.” - and in response - you just scoff - “I’ll wear whatever I want, I can fight.” - he loves it - he loves that you’re always ready to stomp someone’s face with your pretty little boots - the amount of time he’s actually had to hold you back is amazing - and he doesn’t hold you back because he thinks you won’t beat the person’s ass - or because he wants you to be the ”better person” or whatever the fuck that is - but because he doesn't want the piggies getting any ideas when it comes to you - he knows you can hold your own - but he can’t help but be a little protective of you - and he just doesn’t trust cops - they’d see you looking all pretty and try something - not on his watch - he’ll take over if there are cops around - but if it’s just a slimy man? - he’ll still be there, ready to step in and kill the guy at any time - but you can handle yourself - so he lets you handle yourself - he loves when you paint his nails for him - he has so many shades of pink nail polish now - and you’ll paint his nails all pink all the time - at first, he was kinda like hmmmmm am i gonna like this? - spoiler - he did - he still paints his nails black all the time but when you ask to put some pink in there he’s all for it - he doesn’t realize his flat is slowly becoming more and more pink as you start to move in - because he doesn’t necessarily care all that much - he really likes the color now - but when Gwen comments on it he’s like… oh yeah - “Hobie? Have you found a new love for the color pink?”   “What?”   “Your place. There’s so much pink in here.”   “Oh… (Y/n) and I are gettin’ serious. She’s been movin’ in. But yeah, I do fancy the color pink, now. What of it?” - he does have a favorite shade of pink that you wear - but he loves when you wear all pink - so he acts like he doesn’t have a favorite - but he’s bad at it - cause the minute you wear a bright obnoxious shade of pink? - he’s gone - he’s simpin - he’s in love - he will compliment you more than he already does - which is a lot - and have his hands all over you - needless to say you’ve incorporated that color into your wardrobe a lot more - he just loves your style - and your attitude - the two of you are the government’s worst enemy honestly - and even though you’re a badass - you don’t need a man or anyone for that matter - you have a soft spot for your anarchic asshole - and sometimes you just like to see him be the badass - cause he sure can be - you’re a “don’t fuck with us” couple - a “fuck around and find out” couple - and the two of you wouldn’t want it any other way <3
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nicksbf · 3 months
Text
I feel like there aren’t enough Nick stories out there, so I’m grouping here all the ones that I could find for anyone that wants them.
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Smut
Original character
Angst
Star’s favs ★
Series
Scared To Love
Rich Stupid Highschool Kids
★ Ice Cold Secret
This House Is Not A Home
★ The Influencer
Blondie P1 P2
Late Night Drive P1 P2
Nick x Jasper
Nick x Jake
Snaps / texts / headcanons
Snaps You’d Get As Nick’s Bf P1 P2
Boyfriend Hcs
Snaps You'd Get From bffs!matt & Chris As Nicks
Boyfriend P1 P2
sub!nick Headcanons
dom!nick Headcanons
bf!nick Sturniolo Headcanons
NSFW Headcanons P1 P2
★ Snaps You’d Get As Nick’s Bf
Snaps With bf!nick
Imagine Being In A Relationship With Nicolas Sturniolo P1 P2
Texts With bf!nick
Snaps As Nick’s Bf
Nick NSFW Abc’s
★ Nerdy Nick Headcanons
Nick x muslim!bf Headcanons
Oneshots
Surprise
Keep Looking Baby
★ Nick Sturniolo x ftm!reader
Handsome
Photobooth
Ride Me
Hickeys
Lovesick
My Boy
Carnival Date
Drunk
Creep
Snow Angel
Carnival
Get To It
Pink In The Night
Kiss Kiss
Mine All Mine
Care For You
Never Say Sorry
Lick
★ Tied Up
I Mean It
First For Everything
Wedding Day
★ Late Night Walk
Make You Mine
Tiktok Trends
Insecure
One More
Chasers And The Game For My Heart
Painted Nails
★ Under Love’s Heavy Burden Do I Sink
Bathroom
Puck Bunny
★ Starkissed
Bestfriend’s Brother
Greened Out
Eye Roll
Kitchen Accident
Jealousy
Piss Off Your Parents
Accidental Confession
Honorable mentions
Hickeys 🙏
Idk tbh
Rough Sex
You’re Dating Nick Sturniolo And This Is Your Gallery
Your Camera Roll As Nick’s Bf
Disclaimer: These are not mine, credits to all the authors!!
If you find any more that aren’t on here please tell me to add them<3
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spncvr · 3 days
Note
HIII I kinda suck at writing so maybe you could take my idea and use your amazing writing skills and make something of it? (Only if you want ofc!!) hear me out yk how Spencer rambles about random facts and everything at the bau imagine if he had a partner (was a profiler as well) and that knew a lot about musics or movies and would ramble about it to him?
Ignore this if it sounds stupid 😭
rambles | s. reid
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summary: you talk a lot, spencer doesn't mind.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: okay so idk if this counts as gn!reader?? but reader wears a dress lol. drinking, and again my terrible english,, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: hey beautiful!! this deffo does not sound stupid i had fun writing it but this is so bad im sorry i didn't do u justice *crying emoji* also im so sorry this took me forever to finish LMAOOO
masterlist
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YOU CAN FEEL it.
In your spine, in your ears. The song’s quiet but it had you in its grip, tight and firm—music’s always been like that to you. It didn’t matter if it was Hendrix, Queen or even Chopin; it has always been the one thing to make you stop dead at your feet. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could possibly describe how it made you feel. Perhaps, you think humorously, you ought to learn another language, or two. 
You’re wearing this dress. This sweet, white silk thing that sweeps against your knees each time you take a step. The taste of expensive wine sits against your lips, lingering. The glass rests idly around your hand and your grip is careful. Expensive red wine and a cheap dress don't usually mix well together. 
“You okay?” 
You smile, teeth and all. Spencer who’s found his place next to you, furrows his eyebrows worry painted against his soft features. He looks tired. But he’s here, with the rest of the team; he always is.
“Fine,” you say, blasé. “You, Dr. Reid?”
His eyebrows raise slightly, “Yeah, fine.” then, “nice dress.” It’s a small whisper. 
You brush your tongue against the wine on your lips. The comment catches you off guard—especially when he’s dressed like this and looks at you like that. So, all that leaves your wine-stained lips is a small: “Oh.” then, because you remember your manners you say, “Thank you.”
The song changes, and Spencer smiles, “The songs—” he says “they’re nice.”
“I—” You stop yourself from rambling because really, they’re more than nice. It’s Elle Fitzgerald. She’s—Her voice, her instrument is clear as a bell, with diction that’s almost impossible to misunderstand. Her rhythm is— well it’s, you can set her as the metronome for her own band. Which, well, isn’t exactly easy to do. The way she’s able to scoop and bend her pitches with such precision is, beyond, nice. So the song, really it’s, more than nice, it’s a masterpiece it’s—
“Uh, yeah, s’nice.” you pause, “More than nice, really.”
Spencer smiles, amused, “More than nice?” he echoes.
You clear your throat, “It— yeah. I mean, it’s Fitzgerald, you know…”
“I don’t know,” he says simply.
Figures, you think. “No, yeah. She’s, like, got this tone in her voice, you know? And it’s like she’s the one leading the band— with the rhythm, I mean. As in like, instead of the drummer, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You know, actually, some people say she — she’s got the voice of an angel. Or something along the lines; can’t really remember and—” you pause, slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking.
“Er, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. The edge of your shoes had suddenly become increasingly interesting. “didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”
Spencer kisses his teeth, and you look up to find him grinning. “No, uh,” he scratches the edge of his eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about something you like.” He seems to think about his next words as he brushes his hand against your arm. It sends a shiver that lingers longer than the touch itself. Spencer Reid could be so cruel sometimes. 
“I love listening to you talk.”
Your dress ends up wine-stained, anyway.
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as usual my inbox is always open for requests (or just to talk lol) but it will take 192374 years to actually finish it,, reblogs are soo appreciated !! (u guys r always so kind idk why im asking for them) so is feedback btw!! (despretely in need of some)
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hectateovrhere · 1 year
Text
Soul, Body, and all
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Pairing: Neteyam x male Metkayina reader, eldest son of Tonowari ( the chief)
Summary: you, the aloof eldest son to the chief, do ( your unexpected friend) Neteyam’s ceremonial paint and things get intimate.
A/N: idk how to write summarys but hopeful the story makes up for it this is more first time posting so hope y’all enjoy :) also I added “lore” just to make it more meaningful. Idk-
There was a comfortable silence that hung over you two. Neteyam sat infront of you his eyes catching every detail of your face. You didn’t know what to say and neither did he. An unspoken bond between you two. You were evasive and slippery you were loved but no one really knew you. The chiefs son was what you were and a great warrior; that’s all the reason your tribe needed to love you. You were adamant on keeping everyone at arms length; you weren’t interested in relationships, even with your siblings. No connections meant no feelings getting in the way of what you believed in. no one could have gotten this close to you but somehow he did.
You traced the structure of his face with white paint sharp and delicate at the same time; he stared as you focused. You place your hand on his shoulder as you got closer you grabbed the yellow paint and outlined his eyes with dots.
“What is the ceremony for?” Neteyam broke the silence
“It’s very spiritual… it allows you to be placed under eywas protection and our protection.” You fingers glided down his neck Neteyam gulped at your touch. “The paint is very important each style is different- they have a unique meaning each of us learn a different technique.”
“What does mine mean?” You pause for a moment coating your hand in pale green paint.
“Kind-hearted. A protector and protected.” You place your hand on his chest you feel his heart beating. “A special soul.” Your painted hand print was left on his chest Neteyam refused to utter a word as if they were jammed in his throat. The wind rushed past you with a whistle and the waves crashed to the shore in a musical pattern.
“Turn around.” You ordered softly now it was your turn to break the silence. He obeyed silently his strong back faced you. Coating your hands once again you place them on his shoulders pushing inward to his shoulder blades replicating that of wings. Your hands halted at his braid.
“Can I?
Neteyam nodded slowly you moved it to the side he shivered as you dotted the outline of his spine.
“The back represents freedom and your choice to look after those around you. A leader. People will follow you anywhere.”
“Will you?” The words slipped through Neteyam’s lips. He cringed at the way it came out like his body reacted on its own ignoring the brain and following his heart. It yearned for you. He failed to figure out how to express it to you and the looming possibility that you didn’t feel the same way terrified him. He couldn’t bare the thought of you slipping through his fingers.
Neteyam’s ears twitched at the way your hands paused. He prepared for the worst. What could you possibly think of an outcast?
“You want me to follow you forever?” You reiterated with a light chuckle; Neteyam flushed he knew it came out wrong. Of course he knew you had your duties you were the chiefs son; you made a promise to your people. He knew all about that; it was him once upon a time. It sounded like he wanted you to run away with him to drop everything and leave.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Neteyam whipped around catching you by surprise you took notice to the distance between you. The short distance you watch his pleading eyes you could tell he was struggling to find the right words to say.
“I want you by my side and I want to stay by yours.” He explained “you’re the only person that makes me feel okay with never going back home. I want to stay with you.”
“What are you saying?”
In that moment time stopped all you could feel were his soft lips on yours. you weren’t sure what to do you’ve never kissed anyone before- you’ve never been this close to someone before. Neteyam was struggling as well both of you unsure about what to do and how to continue but doing it anyway; eventually you got the hang of it syncing with his movements. You could feel his energy enter you, careful not to touch him with your painted hands you attempted to deepen the kiss you wanted to be closer.
Neteyam understood what you wanted and did it for you basically grabbing your head and pulling you towards him. An unfamiliar feeling erupted in your stomach is this what it felt like? To be kissed? You never thought you would experience it. You seen your parents kiss and other people your age do it;but it never interested you. Now you could see why everyone liked to do it; it was nice you felt connected to him like you could feel what he felt, his senses were yours and the world seemed to melt away.
When you both pulled away everything felt cold by the way Neteyam was looking at you he felt the same way.
“Do you understand what I mean now?” He questioned his voice was gentle. you placed your forehead on his; your eyesight being filled with his deep yellow eyes only. You saw him for who he was and all he could be; you saw his heart and mind, his internal battles and his responsibilities. You unraveled before him he saw you, he knew you and you felt free knowing someone finally understood you.
“Neteyam..” you trailed “I see you.”
His eyes widened at your confession “I see you too.”
Your lips met again you held each other delicately disregarding the paint on your hands. this time there was less of a struggle both of you had somewhat of an idea on how to do it; all that mattered was the way it made both of you feel. He caressed every inch of your skin like he had been waiting an eternity to do so. Every inch he followed as if to memorize your body; your skin burned where ever Neteyams wandering fingertips grazed; every touch felt like fire and you savoured every second of it.
Neteyam embraced your warmth accepting it into his body, he could feel your soul. He silently thanked Eywa for guiding him to you this was her plan all along.
He was the only one for you. There was no one else. He was worth losing everything over and you would die before you gave your heart to another. Though you were young; in your heart you knew Neteyam was yours. Soul, body, and all.
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jinnxedy · 4 months
Note
Do you take requests for your writings?
If not, just ignore this...
I read one of your headcannons about Abby that says that she treats the stuff animals she gifted to her s/o like if they were their children.
One day, she comes home in a bad mood after a stressful day and takes out her anger in reader and make a comment about it.
"Stop treating them like that. They're not real"
But of course, she apologized and had a happy ending.
Take your time and take care 🫶
Hii, this is such a good request, thank you for suggesting this 💕 I hope you like it and I hope it meets your expectations!
Disclaimer: not much, just some cursing, mentions of clickers and such? Don't know If this is considered angst with happy ending, but I doubt it. English not being my first language, idk lmao I think that's it.
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Abby wasn't having it today. Everything and everyone irritated her, the patrols, clickers, Isaac being on her ass every second, could people be more annoying today?
She doesn't know what's going on with her, she couldn't talk to anyone without making a snarky, backhanded comment. Don't get her wrong, she feels so bad for it, but she doesn't have time for apologies. It's too much for her, she says.
Walking back to her shared room with you, she could feel her own body giving up. Her legs weak, head pounding, shoulders tense, jaw clenched, you get the gist.
She just wants, no, needs some rest.
As soon as she opens the door, she's met with the sight of you laying in bed, plushies all around you. You were reading one of Abby's books, and honestly they were too boring for your taste. It's not like you had other things to focus on. You had one of your favorite stuffed animals in hand, holding it for some sort of comfort. Truth is, you've missed Abby, not being able to see her all day was torture.
You diverted your gaze away from the book to Abby, a genuine smile quickly painted onto your face. Dropping the book back at the nightstand and rushing to her side, you hug her.
And listen, Abby loves your hugs, but she's had a long day. The sudden and unexpected contact made her grunt in pain, pulling back from the hug unintentionally. Her eyebrows scrunching a bit as she closed her eyes and sighed in slight annoyance.
You were hurt to say the least, she's never reacted like this to your touch, you've never seen her so hostile towards you.
"Abby... is everything okay, did I do something wrong?" Your voice soft, gentle, and careful. You were scared of getting a bad reaction out of her.
It was so weird, the way she just dismissed your question and went right to bed. You hummed quietly to yourself, almost in disbelief of this girl's behavior.
I mean, the fuck?
Abby huffed at the feeling of one of your stuffed animals poking her back as she laid down back in the bed, rolling her eyes and throwing it across the room. You stare at her wide eyed, a scolding look on your face
"What the hell was that for?" You didn't raise your voice, but you were assertive, you needed to know what was going on with her today. "Why did you throw the poor guy? He didn't deserve that" You said jokingly, hoping she knew you wanted to light the mood up a little.
Still, Abby failed to get the small joke. "Stop treating them like that. They're not real" You didn't fail to notice her bitter tone, taken aback by it.
You weren't offended by the words, after all they weren't directed towards you, but the way she spoke and treated you earlier, that made it for you.
"I don't know what the fuck's wrong with you today? You're being such an asshole to me, I didn't do anything. Apologize, talk to me, do something... anything." You sounded hurt, your face filled with worry.
Just then, Abby realized how she treated you. You didn't deserve this, what was she thinking?
She sat on the bed, thinking of what to say, only inaudible and incomprehensible apologies coming out. She was rambling, fumbling over her own words, only making her more frustrated.
You sighed and sat down beside her, putting your head on her shoulder and holding her hand, offering comfort and support. Abby took a moment before talking again, enjoying your soft touches here and there, not failing to calm her down. This is just what she needed, your soft fingers running up and down her arms and hands, you were her own personal haven.
"I'm so, so sorry. Please, forgive me" Her voice sounded meek, vulnerable, her hands looking for your own, needing you to make her feel better.
You saw the desperate look on her eyes, and you felt so bad for the poor girl.
You just held her all night, running your fingers through her hair, kissing all over her face, anything to lift her spirits up. Abby loved it, the way you caressed her, held her with such care and love, your delicate fingers tenderly grazing all over her skin.
Abby doesn't know what she would do without you, you complete her perfectly.
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jade-jini · 4 months
Note
please make a virgin loser chaeyoung (twice) WITHOUT G!P 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 beg you
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(I love the pics where she looks high af bdjdnfj sorry for taking forever.)
Warning: long as fuck. Fluffy smut.
To me chaengie is the type of loser who might get mistaken by a popular person just because she looks so chill sometimes. Like she be on her car hitting a blunt listening to music or something and people see it and are like “wait that’s cool!”.
In reality tho you’re her first girlfriend and one of the few people she talks to on campus. Girlie can’t look at people in the eye😭 when you’re not looking tho (or when she thinks you’re not looking) her eyes are stuck to your face, memorizing every feature, lovingly appreciating them.
She’s a movies typa nerd too like she will ask you to watch a marathon of Tim burton stuff with her and explain the whole lore and how they’re all connected (i need this actually).
“So in this movie he’s the kid, then he becomes adult and that’s when the Corpse Bride story takes place, and then in The Nightmare Before Christmas we see him in his dead form, and it’s all the same dude! isn’t it cool?!” She’d explain while holding her plushie of Sparky (which was a gift from you btw).
“Of course babe.” You’d answer, not fully understanding everything but just happy to be there ‘cause she was adorable.
Museum dates happen often, where she’d quietly take her time to contemplate any piece that caught her attention. She will even Google about it online to know the story behind it.
“Chaeyoung no-” you tell her while holding her arm so she doesn’t try to take the painting 😭
“But it doesn’t belong here! It was stolen!” Yeah fvck them bitches chaengie 🫵🏼 (idk what I’m saying).
As I said she can’t look at people in the eye. Of course after you started dating she got better at it with you, but before? Girlie’s eyes were everywhere but on you. And when I say everywhere I mean everywhere. She tried to avoid it, she really did, but god aren’t you hot? How was she supposed to not look at your chest? Or when your shoulders were exposed, the only thing she wanted was to kiss them so bad :( she would get so lost in her thoughts that wouldn’t even realize she had been staring for so long, and the moment you catch her doing it she’d get so flustered, her eyes escaping your figure completely quietly groaning and mentally slapping herself but she never learns, she does it again lol.
After you started dating, you had this thing where whenever you noticed her eyes on you like that (because of course she was still obsessed with you and 0 slick about it) you’d tease her, and she’d deny the sht out of it. You know that little voice and pout combo she has sometimes? Like that while looking at the floor- ahhhh cutie patootie. One day tho, you whispered in her ear that instead of looking so much, she should touch and take what’s supposed to be hers. And bro?! How do you say this to a literal virgin 😭 girlie went completely quiet like COMPLETELY for the rest of the class.
You guys had been dating for a little while, so she knew that time would come sooner or later. It’s not that she didn’t want it, of course she did like c’mon, the amount of times she’d touch herself thinking about you were countless even before you guys started dating (oh ok perv). But she was a little nervous which it’s normal! She knew it was normal to be nervous, still tho… she just didn’t want to disappoint you or something ‘cause she knew you had a lot more experience :( . While waiting for you to finish your last class in her car, she tried to calm herself and repeat that you having experience was actually a good thing! that way she could learn with you, right? But god she felt kinda pathetic.
On your side tho, you were nervous yourself. Being somebody’s first time was a big thing. You didn’t wanna mess it up for chaeyoung, she was your sweet girlfriend and you wanted it to be good for both of you, specially for her. You met your girlie at her spot in the parking lot as always and made your way to her house for another movie marathon date. Over-planning stuff wasn’t your style nor chaeng’s, so even tho you wanted things to go well, and it felt like the moment was close after more than constant teasing, you tried not to overthink about it. It was gonna happen when it was meant to be.
But Chaeyoung didn’t expect it to be this soon ah-
You were feeling extra clingy, using one of her oversized shirts and playing with her hands while resting your head on her shoulder as you watched the movie and made little conversation about it. Things were going chill as usual, until you rested one of your hands on her thigh, a little too close to more delicate zones. You didn’t notice it as you caressed the exposed skin of her inner thigh, oh but chaeyoung did. She gulped and started throwing facts about the people involved in the movie. You thought it was cute, until you could feel the warmth of her face against your forehead. You sat straight to look at her and softly asked “is everything ok babe?” As you moved your hand from her leg to her forehead to check her temperature “are you getting sick?”
“I- I’m ok, y/n.” She said, clearing her throat. Chaeng grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. You smiled and kissed her cheek, finding comfort against her shoulder again. But Ofc you couldn’t stay still, and you went from leaving kisses on her face from time to time to softly kissing her neck. At first it was just a few short ones, those that tickle a little bit and felt nice and cute. But eventually it developed to more sensual ones, slow and wet ones. You didn’t even realize what you were doing, but your girlfriend’s skin tasted so nice. And she was so cute, how to resist it? She was looking even cuter than normal for some reason today:(( You only noticed what was going on once you heard her letting out a quiet soft moan as she asked “y/n, w-what are you doing?”
“Oh chaengie I’m so sorry!” You apologized as you tried to give your girlfriend some space “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything I just-”
“N-no! It’s ok, it felt nice it’s just” she started while making sure you stayed as close as you were next to her “well you’ve never done that and it was unexpected. But it felt nice, could you.. maybe keep doing it?” She asked surprising you, her face still with some light blush.
“Are you sure baby? I really didn’t mean to suddenly do it.” You clarified. It was just kisses but you knew yourself and you knew how much you wanted your girl, and you knew that kisses like those were almost always just the beginning of more, so you needed to make sure things were ok before continuing. Of course if she didn’t want anything more, or ever wanted to stop, you would. You weren’t expecting anything.
Doesn’t mean you didn’t want it.
“Please do it again…” she asked again ever so cutely. You could only obey and made yourself more comfortable, holding her by the waist and slightly feeling some of her skin making direct contact with your hands thanks to her shirt moving a lot. You couldn’t wait to take it off.
Your mouth went back to her neck after leaving a soft kiss on her lips. The soft sighs escaping chaeyoung’s mouth making you eager to feel her, to taste her.
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You told her as you continued your kisses. “So so beautiful.”
“Hmmmm no I’m not..” she let out in a little groan. You stopped to look at her, checking how even though she seemed to be enjoying your touch, she was still slightly awkward and shy about it. She tended to answer like that sometimes whenever you complimented her. You always needed to ease her mind whenever you noticed her confidence getting low but in this moment, this moment of yours both, you needed it more than anything else. To make her understand how perfect she was to you. Because in the whole world there wasn’t one single thing more beautiful than the woman in front of you. Not one single thing more special or important.
You caressed her face with one of your hands for a moment before grabbing her hands.
“Chaengie, my love. Look at me.” You asked her in a soft voice. However, your calm tone scared chaeyoung, making her think that maybe she ruined the moment by being so insecure. She looked at you almost pouting with her shiny eyes looking extra big as you started talking. “I love you.” You said firmly, still in a soft voice.
“I know you do, y/n…”
“No, listen. Because I know what you’re thinking and I don’t like when you think that.” She sighed and rolled her eyes at your comment, but both of you knew it was true. You left a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, which brought the blush back to her face. “I love you so much, you are so very beautiful and I’m in love with you. I want you in every way you can imagine, ok? To me, every part of you is perfect. Your eyes, your lips, your cute little nose” you said as you left another kiss there, making her giggle in a way that melted your heart “Your hands too” as you put them closer to your lips to leave multiple kisses on them “Every tattoo on your skin, your back, your-”
“Wait.” She interrupted, the blush in her face getting brighter as you paid attention to her next words, which she seemed a little unsure to say but opted to do it anyways as she bit her lip. “Aren’t you.. gonna kiss those too?” She asked and again, she caught you by surprise ‘cause how does she go from insecure and shy to saying those things?? But c’mon who where you to even think about denying that.
“That is an amazing idea yes you’re right I should do that.” You said all eager as you started leaving kisses all over her arms and hands. Both of you were giggling while also hugging each other and honestly it felt like your first time ever as well. Nothing you’ve felt before could ever compare to the feelings Chaeyoung caused in you.
“Can I take this off, baby? So I can reach your other tattoos” You gently asked her, tugging on the edges of her shirt. Chaeyoung gulped before nodding, knowing she didn’t have anything under it and that you were gonna see her naked body for the first time.
“Could I take yours off first before you do that, though?” She asked carefully, and you smiled at her before kissing her cheek.
“Of course you can.” You answered and you felt her trembling hands travel to your waist, and slowly removing her own shirt from your body. Chaeng gulped again, hypnotized by the image in front of her. She knew your body was perfect, but having you this exposed for her, for the first time. Her brain was almost malfunctioning.
“So beautiful…” you heard her say, and you felt your own face getting warmer. “Can I touch you, y/n?”
“Finally taking what’s yours, right?” She teased her about your earlier comment.
“Mine, all mine, yes” she said, her blush never leaving, but still kissing you while massaging your breast slowly, causing your breathing to become irregular. You moaned against her lips, but remembered what you guys said a minute ago. You slowly separated, and looked at her with teasing eyes.
“Hey, I took mine off, your turn now right?” You asked, just wanting to confirm she was still ok with it but also eager to finally see your girl like that. She left a kiss on your lips, before nodding.
“You are so beautiful.” You said, feeling a tingling sensation in your mouth as your eyes were fixed on her naked torso. You softly started to caress her breast, not without making sure she was ok with it first. As you started leaving kisses on her chest, you heard her voice.
“Keep kissing my tattoos, y/n…” she told you. It sounded more like demanding rather than asking even with her trembling voice, she wanted to play a little bit. How could she be such a tease while also being so nervous? Even she didn’t know. But if she wanted to play, you could play along a little bit too. You grabbed your girlfriend and turned her around, not too aggressive but not too gentle, which made her gasp. You sat on her low back, and started kissing her shoulders and back, from the beginning of her big tattoo.
As your lips made their way down her back, in the position that she was, you seriously just wanted to take her shorts off and start enjoying your girlfriend’s sweet taste. So slowly you took your hands to the front of her body, close to the button of her pants before asking “can I take these off, baby? They’re kinda in my way…”
“Yes, please…” you heard chaengie answered as you feel her pushing her ass up a bit, impatiently. With a giggle you started undressing her, so excited about finally having the girl who has been driving you insane in love naked in front of (or well, actually under) you.
“God you really are perfect, you know?” You whispered thinking out loud as your hands traveled over her legs and ass, making sure every inch of skin felt loved.
“You really think so?” She cutely asked, and you considered it an advance. From denying it right away, to at least just wanting to confirm it. It made you smile bigger.
“Of course, my love. I know so.” You answered, grabbing her hair gently and pulling it up, careful of not actually hurting her. You just wanted to fix her position so she was on her knees and hands and you could kiss her. You deepened the kiss, feeling her moan against your lips as you started playing with her tits again. Feeling brave, she bit and pulled your lip with her teeth, and god you loved it, a groan escaping your mouth. Oh she liked that reaction. Chaeyoung decided the best next thing after that would be to pass her tongue over your lips. Your girl was just so naturally sexy.
“Chaeng you are so fucking hot.” You said before slapping her ass. It wasn’t that hard, but it did get a whimper out of her “and you’re such a good girl aren’t you?”
“We’ll see about that…” she teased, again, with that trembling voice. You knew she’d be a little bit of a brat, but deep inside she was so good. It’s ok, you could always teach her how to be your perfect good girl.
You kissed your way down her body, until you had her pussy in front of you. She was so wet, your mouth drooling at the sight. Without wasting more time, you started eating her out. Moaning at the taste, which was 10 times better than you had imagined, you could feel yourself getting completely wet as well. But all your attention was on pleasuring your girlfriend, giving her the best first experience she could have.
“Oh my god, y/n!” She moaned slowly and loud, backing up against your mouth as much as possible. The sensation of your warm tongue basically all over her pussy had her delirious since the first second. Her body barely able to process what was feeling. “Oh my god oh my god…” she kept saying in between whimpers, her lip in between her teeth as she grabbed the pillow under her so tightly.
Talking about tightly. Her pussy was so. Fucking. Tight. You slowly put a finger inside her and you could barely move it, even when she was soaking wet. You were in no rush tho, you wanted to enjoy every second and every detail of it. Of her. Of making her yours and showing her you’re hers.
“You sound so good, chaengie” you told her as you moved your finger a bit faster, feeling her relax a little more and allowing you to add a second finger “and your pussy feels so so good baby. So good on my fingers.”
“Y/n! Shut up don’t~” she complained, her face getting red with your dirty talk. But you knew she liked it. Her body told you so, shivers going down her spine, and her cunt clenching your fingers inside her.
“But it’s the truth! Your pussy is so perfect, it tastes so good in my tongue. Hmm~” you said as you added your mouth again with your fingers, making figures on her clit and swallowing her juices.
“Hmmm… keep going please… feels too good..” she begged, rolling her hips, reaching for her orgasm. “Please…”
“Yes, keep moving like that on my fingers, baby. Just like that. I promise I’ll make you feel so good.” You encouraged her, enjoying the view from behind of your precious girlfriend basically fucking herself on your hand, without looking like she wasn’t even aware of what she was doing. “Good girl…” You complimented her and she started going faster, now keeping herself up with her arms straight, so so close to it, until..
“W-what? Whyy~” she complained when you suddenly stopped and put your fingers out of her pussy, but you didn’t even give her time to continue as you turned her around and pushed her on her back. She didn’t think you were gonna miss her face as you made her come for the first time, right? (Nu-uh)
“Sorry love, but I need to see your pretty face.” You said before shoving your fingers inside her hole again,continuing with your fast pace knowing damn right she was on the edge already. Chaeyoung let a loud moan out, trying to grab the head of the bed as she started moving her hips again. “You look so beautiful like this, my love. So pretty and perfect, my beautiful beautiful girl.”
“Y/n..! I’m close, I’m so close…” she sobbed while looking at you with the cutest eyes and a pout. You cooed her, your other hand now playing with her clit to help her reach her desired climax “oh my god! Yes, baby, please~”
“Come for me, babygirl. Let me see your pretty face as you come.” You whispered next to her ear before leaving wet kisses on her neck, and you could feel your girlfriend holding you as close as possible as she came on your fingers. You couldn’t stop yourself from kissing her deeply, which she corresponded eagerly.
“Oh my god I love you…” she said against your lips as she rode her orgasm “I love you so much… so so much”
“I love you more my love, you’re the most precious part of my life.” You told her before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Chaeyoung could see the sincerity in your eyes, and there in your arms, she swore she had never felt safer or happier than now.
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machiavellli · 5 months
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Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
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Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.
Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.
⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!
With all being said: enjoy<3
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—
Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:
Theo loves to love as we already established.
He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.
Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.
I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.
He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.
So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.
Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.
«Meravigliosamente
un amor mi distringe
e soven ad ogn'ora.»
Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.
He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.
But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.
Letting it happen.
Letting himself have a proper release.
Letting himself paint your inside white.
His warm finding the embrace of your core.
Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.
That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.
«Com'omo che ten mente
in altro exemplo pinge
la simile pintura,
cosi, bella, facc'eo,
che’nfra lo core meo
porto la tua figura.»
But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.
Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.
It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.
His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.
You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.
And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.
(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)
This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:
You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.
He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed
But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"
And he would literally do anything.
«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,
com'om che te lo foco
a lo suo seno ascoso,
e quanto più lo'nvoglia,
tanto arde più loco
e non po star incluso»
He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.
Growling just at your moist sight
And he would taste you like a starved man.
Over and over again.
On the bed,
On the Couch,
At the dinner table.
Sempre e ovunque.
Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.
Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.
You look like a miracle to him.
And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.
He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.
But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.
Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.
His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.
He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.
So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.
And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.
Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.
The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.
Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.
And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.
He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.
«Assai v'aggio laudato,
madonna, in tutte parti
di bellezze ch'avete.»
When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.
In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.
He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.
And every day will only be about you and you only.
Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.
You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.
Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.
And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.
He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.
But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.
«Canzonetta novella,
va canta nova cosa;
lèvati da maitino
davanti a la più bella,
fiore d'ogn'amorosa,
bionda più ch'auro fino»
"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.
His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.
But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.
He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.
And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore:
"Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.
You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"
"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"
"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—
Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":
My ask box is open!✨🥂
<- part II
-> part III?
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vulture-jack · 1 month
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Idk if anyones made a post like this but i think about this a lot like. finding out that birds are dinosaurs. and what that means?
It means that these animals weve been fascinated with for hundreds of years? theyre still here, and we've LOVED them the whole time. We've loved them so much. Their existence is so significant to our species. We have been keeping dinosaurs as pets and livestock, decorating ourselves and everything around us with dinosaurs, writing poetry and painting them, watching them, feeding them, going out into nature just to get a look at them. Bird watching IS dinosaur watching. They are symbols of freedom and joy and peace and power. They have been and are sacred. For some they are beloved companions. So much of our culture and existence is influenced by them.
We spent so much time wondering about these extinct creatures and wishing we could see them, loving them from across time. Needing to know more. And then to find out that part of their legacy is alive and has been around me my entire life? That I wake up to dinosaur song? Makes me kinda emotional ngl.
We have ALWAYS loved dinosaurs.
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harrywavycurly · 10 months
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Sarah my sweet can we get a conversation between one night reader and Wayne when she’s making him dinner? 💞
Hiiii babes!! Sure, I love me some Wayne content so I hope you enjoy this and also idk why it kinda made me emo so I’m sorry 😂💖
-find all things One Night Stand Eddie here✨
*Wayne wants you to know he’s here if you need him and he doesn’t mean just with baby stuff*
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“Hey sugar it’s just me.” “What’s up Daddio? Rumor around town is you got yourself a new work truck….” “What did we say about Daddio?” “It’s a no…you’re Wayne…just Wayne and for Dotty it’s whatever she feels like calling you…” “Exactly but yes I sure did get me a new work truck only took ten damn years…wanna check it out?…what’s that smell?” “Oh I’m making dinner…you are staying for dinner right?” “Of course…what’s on the menu? You need me to hang those shelves still or did Eddie finally get around to it?” “It’s just chicken enchilada casserole…nothing fancy…oh yes please if you don’t mind? I have a few books that I’d like to go on them…now let’s go see that truck.” “Stairs or do you wanna brave the elevator?” “Stairs…always the stairs…oh shit is that her? She’s so pretty look at that paint job.” “Oh hush…she’s used but she’s new to me and she runs like a dream.” “That’s good Wayne you deserve it…oh nice backseat…is that a damn car seat?” “Yes? I’m her grandpa I gotta have a car seat and it’s the exact same as the one in your car.” “I’m not even sure why I’m shocked…we’re gonna have to arm wrestle to see who gets to drive her home from the hospital aren’t we?” “No…I’ll let you take her from the hospital but I’m gonna meet you here or wherever you’ll be living.” “What’s that mean?…where I’ll be living?” “Ed told me you two are looking at apartments tomorrow…figured it was for the both of you?” “Oh no…it’s an apartment for him…just him..and you know eventually Dotty will stay there with him too but yeah it’s just his apartment.” “Right…well come on let’s get back up there so I can hang these shelves.” “Hey Wayne?” “Yeah?” “Thank you…for everything…I’m glad Dotty is gonna have you in her life.” “I’m not just in her life you know that right?…I’m in yours too.” “We both know I’ll be forgotten about the moment she’s born…you can’t fool me Wayne.” “Oh that’s enough of that…I’m just saying I’m here if you ever need me okay? And I mean for anything…like it or not we’re family now sweetheart.” “I mean..I guess everyone could use a Wayne in their life…” “damn straight…now come on before you burn my dinner.” “God you two really are related…so bossy.”
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luveline · 6 months
Note
Hi lovely, how are you? Idk if you're doing the blurbs still but if you are, can you do something like Eddie taking care of a hungover reader that just partied to hard with her friends? Or something with hockey! Eddie because I love him and you ❤️
I'm good thanks! I hope this is ok ♡ fem
"Come on, loser. Eat up." 
"Can't eat." You stare up at your friend with pleading eyes. "Don't make me." 
"I'm not gonna make you do anything," Eddie says, sliding a plate of eggs and bacon in front of you at the kitchen table with a shrug. "Feel like shit forever, see if I care." 
You pick up your coffee with shaking hands. "You could stand to be a little nicer to me," you whine lightly, more pleading than annoyed. "I don't feel well and you're supposed to love me." 
You think even a dash of compassion from Eddie could cure you. He's not a mean guy —he's been known to hug you at random moments, or lick your wounds for you when things get tough— he's just having an 'I told you so' moment, of which he's prone. 
"This is your own fault." Eddie fills a glass of water at the sink and puts that next to your plate. "If you're going to drink coffee you need water, too. The coffee will make you feel worse in the long run."
"You're like a drill sergeant." 
He finally breaks, reaching across the table to squeeze your forearm. "I just want you to feel better, you dummy." 
Your eyes dry and your head pounding, you switch from coffee to water if only to see some approval in his gaze as he takes the chair beside yours and starts on his own breakfast. Steam drifts in the air, the greasy smell of bacon tickling your nose. You poke an egg yolk with your fork, grimacing as it breaks. 
"Could I make some toast or something instead?" you ask. You really would like to eat, but the egg and bacon is too heavy. You're afraid you won't be able to keep it down. 
He rolls his eyes. "I'll make you some toast, babe, just drink your water." 
He makes you some toast, plate to his chest so he can eat and watch the bread brown at the same time, eating in that boyish way where he leans down to the fork rather than bringing it up to his mouth. It's his fault you got so drunk, in a roundabout way, though you don't actually think that and you'd never tell him if you did. He was in his stupid elf costume from his favourite book, his hair sleek and out of his face, face painted pale. Will you do my makeup? had started innocuously and ended with his hands on your waist to hold you in place, heart in your throat, pulse a hummingbird under his touch. You had to drink to forget the feeling. To avoid ruining everything. 
He seems to be taking pity on you now, swapping your plate for a new one of toast. He dips down to kiss the top of your head Eddie style, smacking. "You should quit partying so hard." 
"It felt like a good idea at the time." 
"Sweetheart," he says, pausing as you take a bite of your toast like it's his mouth that's full. He sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders to hug you. "Is it really bad?" 
"I feel dizzy." 
"Eat your toast," he encourages, softer now, not a dummy in sight. "You'll feel better once you've recouped your losses. I'll make you some pedialyte, if you want?" 
"Can't I just have gatorade?" you mumble, mouth full of toast, head full of his naked arm pressing to your collar. 
"Don't want much, do you?"
Still, Eddie hauls you to the couch with a bucket just in case and a promise to return. He drives the two miles there and back it takes to get you gatorade and he doesn't complain about it, just breaks the seal and presses it into your hand. 
It's the most peculiar thing when he sits down next to you and takes your hand. Almost hesitant at first, then like it doesn't mean a thing, he holds your hand for the few hours between breakfast and lunch until you feel better, gatorades drank, and an orange eaten between you. 
"Next year," he says, slinking down into the couch, the smells of lunch cooking on the stove, your hand once again taken and held to his chest, "we should go as a duo costume." 
"Like what?" 
"I don't know. Ferris and Sloane?" 
"No one would ever guess who Sloane was." 
"How about, uh," —he's speaking casually, voice dipped low and rough— "fucking, Baby, from that movie you like? Baby and Tommy." 
"Dirty Dancing? You want to go as Baby and Johnny?" you ask. It's the most coupley couples costume there is. 
"I'd have to cut my hair. I don't think I'm ready for that."
"Did you hit your head while you were out?" you ask. 
"Whatever. You can just go as something lame again." He finger runs down your forearm. "You looked nice, but you could've looked awesome. You could've been Arwen." 
"Oh, I get it now. You want a mental image for the bank." Eddie groans and pulls away from you. "No, it totally makes sense, you've been so lonely ever since Macy cut you off–" 
"Shut up, I cut it off with her." He shakes his head and stands. "You're starting to make me regret it," he warns, though the smile appling his cheeks shows that he's not as serious as he sounds. 
He leaves you there on the couch with that stunning implication, your thoughts racing, and when he comes back it's to act like nothing happened, your lunch nicely plated and an ice cold drink to match. "Try and eat it, okay?" he asks. 
"Sure thing, Dr. Hyde." 
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