#butterfly jeans uh

[vampwan]

ᯓ★ just found out that i did it wrong so i'm going to redo it to do it correctly. anyway, femboy friday!

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 

Ororo wasn’t any better. 

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

[msmk11]

Best Friend’s Mom

MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy’s best friend)

Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Word count: 5k

CW: Age gap (legal), best friends’ mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, consumption of alcohol, mention of absent parent, light smut

Summary: You get invited to spend spring break with your best friends Tommy and Billy Maximoff and their mother, Wanda. But Wanda is not just any mom you soon discover. She’s a MILF. And god do you want her badly. Only in your wildest dreams could she ever be attracted to you too- or so you think.

A/n: It’s finally here per your votes on my poll! This is only part one of (probably) two however. A) I’ve never written for Wanda before so I’m having a harder time saying what I need to succinctly. B) I have the fattest crush on Wanda so perhaps this is just my rambles. I hope you enjoy!!

When your twin best friends Billy and Tommy had invited you on their beach family vacation over spring break, you had obviously said yes. The thoughts of sand between your toes, the warm sun on your skin, and the calming crash of the waves sent a shiver of excitement down your spine every time you thought of it. Of course, you were also just excited to spend time with your best friends, but the beach was at the forefront of your mind. Though your daydreams had already crafted a vision of perfection for this trip, the reality, surprisingly, far exceeded it. This was all thanks to one sinfully sexy Ms. Maximoff.

From the early budding of your friendship, you knew that Billy and Tommy adored their mother- especially since their father had left them all behind at a young age. Their descriptions made her seem sweet, loving, and remarkably kind. While your first introduction certainly reassured these claims, it was her beauty that struck you. Perhaps in your head you had imagined someone a little more….motherly looking… rather than the mortal goddess before you. With the way her auburn hair fell down past her shoulders in waves, her blue skinny jeans hugged the curve of her waist just right, and her soft, pink lips were always adorned with a smile, you were certain she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

When you, Billy, and Tommy pull up to the beach house in their small gray sedan and a redheaded woman, who you assume to be their mother, comes out, you are dumbfounded to say the least. Before her boys can even get their luggage from the trunk, she sweeps each into a bearhug and exclaims, “hello moya lyubov!”

Their unconvincing protests fall on deaf ears as she continues to smother them in love. You’re sure to tease them about it later.

When Ms. Maximoff breaks away from Billy and Tommy, she turns her attention to you and smiles sweetly. As she makes her way towards you, your heart begins to beat quickly as you realize how beautiful she is.

“Hello, dear,” she greets, “Billy and Tommy have told me all about you.”

Before you can respond, she too pulls you in for a hug. The burn of her touch, even through your shirt, is almost too much to bear, and her flowery perfume that fills your nostrils makes your head feel all woozy.

As she pulls away you can feel your cheeks burning and you try to act calm despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Maximoff, and thank you for letting me stay with you all this week.”

“Oh honey, no. Please don’t call me Ms. Maximoff, it makes me feel old. Wanda is just fine. And the pleasure is all mine, really. I’ve been eager to meet you ever since you became friends with my boys at the start of college.”

“Well, I’ve uh- been eager to meet you too. Billy and Tommy speak very highly of you.”

Wanda nearly coos as she turns to her sons brightly, “Awe moya lyubov, you two are too sweet.”

Your best friends flush red with embarrassment and the glares they shoot you as their mother hugs them again let you know they’ll berate you later for making them “look uncool.” Finally, Wanda pulls away and she urges you all to grab your stuff and follow her into the house.

Once inside, Billy and Tommy kick off their shoes haphazardly and start down the hall to the bedroom they’re sharing (so you can have a room to yourself). You, conversely, slip your shoes off gently and leave them by the door neatly. Wanda waits by your side and then motions for you to follow her once you’re done.

On your way to your room, Wanda gives you a mini tour. You pass through the small kitchen with light wooden floors, white cabinets, and seafoam blue walls. The living room is similarly beachy and charming, with big glass doors opening onto a wooden porch in the back and a smattering of brightly colored furniture organized around the room. At the end of the hall from the living room sits three doors, each leading into a separate room.

“Here we go, honey. Your room is this door on the left, the bathroom is the door in front of us, and my bedroom is here on the right. I hope you don’t mind being my neighbor and sharing a bathroom with me, but I figured it’d be better for the boys to have the master this week since they’re sharing a space,” Wanda tells you.

“No of course not Ms. M- Wanda. I feel bad that Billy and Tommy have to share, though. I honestly don’t mind sleeping on the couch!”

Wanda reacts as though you’ve just slapped her, “Oh honey, no! I’d never make a guest sleep on the couch! I want to make this place as comfortable for you as possible. Plus, the boys will be just fine. They spent the first half of their lives sharing a room, they’ll manage.”

You chuckle a little and smile kindly at her, “Well, thank you, seriously, I appreciate it.”

She waves her hand as if it’s nothing and then motions for you to go see your room, “I’m going to go finish up dinner honey, but let me know if you need anything.”

Wanda saunters off down the hall and you curse her for even walking sexily. Shaking yourself out of a daze, you go inside your room and promptly shut the door behind you. You drop your bag on the floor and then throw yourself on top of the fluffy, blue comforter, groaning into the mattress. You really hope you can survive this trip.

*****

It seems you must’ve fallen asleep on the comfy bed that feels more like a cloud, because suddenly you are jostled awake by a body landing on top of you. You let out an oomph as the air is expelled from your lungs and the weight of Tommy’s body settles on top of you.

“Tommy, you big lug,” you groan, “get off of me.”

You push the boy off of you and he rolls onto his back, “Had to wake you up somehow, you freak. I kept prodding you and nothing happened besides your continued snoring.”

“I don’t snore!” You protest, propping yourself up on your elbow and looking at him.

“Do too” he teases, “mouth open and all.” He then opens his mouth dramatically and lets out an obnoxiously loud snore.

You smack his stomach a little and he groans. In retaliation, he sweeps your elbow out from under you, forcing you to fall flat on your back again.

“Prick,” you grumble.

“Hey you should be a lot nicer to me, you know. I could’ve left you here to sleep and starve.”

You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, “I doubt your mom would allow that.”

The brunette snorts, “Touché.” He stands up and nods his head towards the door, “let’s go eat.”

You and Tommy make your way down the hall to the kitchen, playfully teasing and shoving each other a little on the way. When the longer-haired brother gives you an especially playful push into the kitchen, you nearly fall right in front of Wanda. You’re a little more than embarrassed, so you try to hide your face from her by turning back towards Tommy and glaring. He’s smirking until he’s not- when Wanda gently chides him for “being rude to the guest.”

“Mom she’s our friend, she can take it,” Tommy reminds her.

“Plus,” you add, “I can take either of them, easily, any day. I was just caught off guard there.”

“Really now?” Billy challenges.

You hum in confirmation.

“Fine, then I suggest a game of chicken after dinner.”

“Who’d be our fourth player?” you ask, confused.

“I will,” Wanda answers with a slight smirk, “I love a good challenge. And I’d love to see you beat my boys.”

“Oh you’re so on, Mom,” Tommy answers with a grin.

The twins look at each other with evil, cocky smirks on their face, and you can tell that they’re confident they’re going to win. You look at Wanda nervously because a) you don’t want to lose to the twins and b) you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of her. Her confident smirk, however, so similar to her sons, eases your fears just a little.

They come storming back after dinner, however, when you first see Wanda in a bikini. Though you wouldn’t say it’s skimpy by any means, for goodness sake she’s around her sons, it still certainly shows a lot of skin. The butterflies are beating around aggressively in your stomach as you admire the red swimsuit she’s wearing- the color compliments her skin tone so very well, the top shows just enough cleavage to leave something to the imagination, and the bottoms hang low on her hips, flaunting her soft, white stomach.

You become even more nervous when you realize that you are going to have to sit on top of Wanda’s shoulders. While Billy and Tommy jump into the pool, you cautiously discard your towel on a chair and turn to Wanda, “I didn’t even think about the fact that I’d have to be on your shoulders. We can just call off the game, I’ll probably be too heavy for you.”

The redhead shakes her head and chuckles, stepping a little closer to you, “Honey, I know how chicken works. I wouldn’t have offered to play if I didn’t think I could carry you. I’m a lot stronger than I look, you know.”

You want to believe her, but you are just so nervous about hurting her that you can only weakly smile and nod.

“Hey, are we playing chicken, or are you two too chicken?” Billy calls out mockingly.

“Oh we’re more than ready, boys,” Wanda answers confidently, hands on her hips.

She walks forward and slides down into the pool, the turquoise water riding up to her waist. She beckons you over to the edge, “I’ll stand here and you can hop on, since I know you’re a little nervous about getting on my shoulders.”

You take a deep breath and nod. Wanda turns around and you step forward. Tentatively, you hook one leg over her right shoulder and her hand immediately comes up to grab your thigh. You tense at the skin to skin contact and it sends a little shiver up your spine. Thankfully, Wanda can’t see your face, so she hopefully just assumes that you're nervous about getting on her shoulders and not for….. other….. reasons.

“You’ve got it, honey,” She encourages you sweetly.

You quickly lift your other leg up and hook it around her left shoulder. She grabs your other thigh tightly and squeezes it, as if reassuring you.

Problem one million- Wanda being this strong is really hot, adding to your already insanely high level of attraction towards her. You fear you might pass out on the spot.

“Good to go?” The redhead asks you softly, craning her neck a little to look up at you. Her green eyes are soft but determined and they send a surge of confidence through you, “Yes, I’m ready to take them down.”

Wanda easily wades through the water over to Billy and Tommy, who have situated themselves with Tommy as the anchor and Billy on top. You look your opponent in the eye and smirk, sending him a playful glare, “You’re on, Maximoff.”

Billy only scoffs at you cockily and then waves you forward, challenging you to go up against him. Wanda and Tommy move in towards one another and you stick your arms out, bracing for Billy’s attack. He comes in swinging, bringing his right arm down to your side trying to shove you off. You are braced for it, though, and Wanda’s strong grip keeps you in place. You retaliate by grabbing his wrists, simultaneously trying to keep him from hitting you and also jostle him around. After a few seconds of back and forth, Billy rips his left arm free, the force causing you to wobble a little.

“I got you, honey,” Wanda calls up to you when she hears the sharp breath you take.

You shake it off and head towards Billy with double the amount of determination. Letting go of his other wrist, you go for the shoulders and give him a hard shove. This alone does not push Billy off of Tommy’s shoulders. However, the former twin’s movement throws the latter twin off balance, sending them plummeting backwards into the water. They land with a loud splash and you and Wanda cheer loudly. When the boys come up for air they are spluttering and groan at your victory.

“You two are stronger than you look,” Tommy concedes.

“Never underestimate your mother,” Wanda chides teasingly. She then looks up at you, “do you want me to take you back over to the edge to hop off?”

Your newfound victory, especially with Wanda on your team, has caused your confidence to soar. You shake your head, “No that’s okay, you can just drop me in the water.”

The redhead smiles sweetly, “If you insist.”

Before you have a second to think, she is lurching backwards, sending you both crashing into the water just as the twins had. The water is much colder than you anticipated and it overcomes your senses as you flail around. When you breach the surface you let out a gasp of air and shake the water from your eyes, “Holy fuck that’s cold!” you shout, then immediately cringe for cursing in front of Wanda.

Luckily she only chuckles, an evil glint in her eye, “You asked to be thrown in, honey. I was only doing what you asked.”

“A little warning would have been nice,” you answer with a playful pout.

She only laughs again, her head thrown back a little, and it’s quite the sight to see.

*****

The next morning, you wake to soft, yellow sunbeams falling across your face. The sound of gentle waves can be heard just slightly through your window at the back of the house and you sigh contentedly. You could get used to this. After laying sprawled across your bed for an undetermined amount of time, you finally decide it’s time to get up. You wander down the hall into the kitchen, on the hunt for food, and find Wanda sitting at the kitchen table, book in one hand, coffee in another, clad in a silk, white slip nightgown.

“Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?” She asks sweetly.

“Like a baby.”

“I’m glad to hear it. What can I make you for breakfast?” Wanda asks, already rising from her chair.

“Oh, Wanda, no. Please. You don’t need to make anything. I can just snack on something for the pantry. I don’t usually have much for breakfast anyways.”

Wanda tsks at you and waves you off, “Well that just won’t do honey. It’s more important than ever for you to fuel your body at this age- what with all the studying, busy work schedules and… other things.”

Wanda winks at you then and you choke on your spit a little. Had she just implied…? No, she couldn’t have. But…

“Yes, well, school and work keep me busy enough to not have time for other things, Wanda. And I make up for a light breakfast with more filling meals later.”

It seems as though Wanda ignores the latter fact as she asks how you like your eggs and pulls out a frying pan.

“Well, honey, I really can’t believe what you’re saying. Someone as beautiful and sweet as you must be overwhelmed with social obligations- parties, friends, dating.”

You try to hide the blush on your cheeks from Wanda’s flattery, “No really, Wanda, I don’t have all that many. And I’m happy with my small group of friends.”

“You know,” Wanda starts, turning towards you as the eggs cook, resting her back against the counter, “I have to ask, and I hope you’ll excuse me for wondering, but I wanted to know if you were seeing or were interested in one of my boys. You just seem awfully close and I can’t help but wonder…”

You burst out in laughter at the heinous suggestion and Wanda’s eyebrows raise in bewilderment, “Oh god, no. Never in a million years would I date them.”

Wanda purses her lips and you realize how that sounded, “Please don’t take that the wrong way, Wanda. You’ve raised such lovely boys, you know. And I love them dearly, but not like that. They’re like my brothers. And even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t go for them. Or any guy for that matter… I like women.”

All the confusion and maybe even a little defensiveness drains from Wanda’s face at your confession and she visibly relaxes. She turns back to the eggs and picks up the pan, “I see. Well, the boys are grateful to have you in any way they can.” She walks over and sets the plate down in front of you, “And that makes me pretty grateful too.”

As she stays behind you, Wanda tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver.

“Thank you, Wanda.”

“My pleasure, Detka.”

*****

The tension is so thick it is unbearable as you sit on a chair across from Wanda. At this point, you know it isn’t hot enough outside for you to be feeling this flushed. Rather, the way Wanda keeps looking over at you not so sneakily as she nurses her wine is leaving you all hot and bothered. When she takes another sip you are entranced by the way her soft, red lips wrap around the rim of the glass. And when she pulls the cup away, a drop of the wine is still on her lips. You nearly gasp as her tongue darts out, seemingly in slow motion, to lick it up. At this point, you know your staring is obvious, but Wanda just looks so pretty in that sundress, and one too many glasses of wine has left you feeling a little reckless.

“Want another sip?” Wanda muses teasingly, pointing the glass towards you.

“Oh no, I’m okay, Wanda, thank you.” You answer softly.

“Come on detka,” she says huskily, “just come have one more sip. I don’t think I can finish it alone.”

Really, you can never say no to this woman, so you oblige, standing from your chair and walking over to sit down next to her. Her perfume wafts over you as she leans in and hands you the glass, and you feel woozy.

You take a sip of what little wine is left in the glass and swallow as Wanda watches you the whole time. You turn to the redhead and hand her the glass. She sets it on the table without once breaking eye contact with you.

“Oh Detka, you have a little drop of wine on your lip. Let me get that right-“

She reaches out and cups your cheek. Instead of wiping it away with her thumb like you think she will, she leans in and captures your bottom lip between your own. She sucks on it softly and you nearly moan. Before you can really process what’s happening, she’s pulled away, a knowing smirk on her face, “There baby, all better now.”

“W-Wanda- I.” You stutter.

“Hmm?” She asks, sickeningly sweetly.

“Can you do that again?”

“Do what again, baby?”

You almost whine at her teasing, “Kiss me, Wanda. Please.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she whispers, already pressing her lips to yours again.

You sigh deeply as the flame rekindles in your belly and your heart beats faster. Your kisses are fast and sloppy, your tongues battling for dominance. Keeping your lips on hers you shuffle, straddling your legs on either side of her lap as you wrap your arms around her shoulders.

Wanda groans and grabs your hips tightly, digging her nails into the slight bit of bare skin showing as your shirt rides up.

She tastes like chocolate strawberries and wine and you chase her lips like you’ve been starved for days. Wanda just smells so good, and feels so good, and tastes so good that you’re insatiable. Unknowingly, you rock your hips a little, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through you at the friction between your legs. You moan into her mouth and try it again, this time rolling your hips more aggressively. Combined with Wanda’s kissing, it feels really good.

“Careful Detka, don’t start something you can’t finish,” Wanda warns lowly.

You pull away suddenly, gasping for air, “Wanda, I want this. I- I want you right now. I need you.”

She looks at you intently, those green eyes both soft and loving while also glazed with lust, “you sure, baby? There’s no going back after this.”

“Please,” you say, this time really whining.

“Start with my thigh,” she orders.

You lean back in and kiss Wanda again like before, but this time with the repeated motion of you humping her thigh, chasing your own pleasure. Wanda’s hands slowly travel down your sides, one stopping to grope at your breasts while the other makes it’s way to cup your ass. The added stimulation to your ass and tits makes you moan into her mouth again.

She pulls away and shushes you quietly, “gotta be quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to hear.”

You nod meekly and bite your lip to keep any more moans from slipping out. Wanda takes the chance to place her lips elsewhere, assaulting your neck and exposed collarbone with bites, licks, and sucking. Before you know it, you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, tension building in your belly. Maybe it’s the pace of your hips, or Wanda just has a sense for these things, but she can tell you’re close. Before you can get there, however,

“Wake up. Stop sleeping the day away.”

You are rather rudely awakened, you think, by Billy. His wet hair drips onto your face as he hovers over you, “Come swim with us and quit being boring.”

“But I’m getting my tan on,” you whine.

“You can do that in the water,” he retorts.

When you don’t make any sign of movement, Billy huffs, “You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

Before you can protest, the boy grabs your waist and pulls you up, flipping you over his shoulder.

“Billy,” you screech, “Put me down!!”

He ignores you and starts off towards the ocean. You smack his back and flail your legs but that doesn’t stop him. Before you know it you are met with a blast of ice cold water as he flings you into the salty ocean. When you burst to the surface spluttering you send Billy the biggest glare.

“You’re dead meat Maximoff.”

You quickly wade through the water towards Billy and lunge forward. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down into the water with you. You’re a mix of flailing limbs under the water. You get an elbow to Billy’s face and him a blow to your stomach before you both swim upwards and gasp for air. Tommy is there, laughing at you both, so you and Billy share a sneaky look before grabbing him by the ankles and pulling him down too.

Though you may have been peeved at Billy for throwing you into the water, it does feel rather nice on your hot skin. It also curbed your rather lusty thoughts of your best friends’ mother. The three of you stay out in the ocean for awhile, play fighting, throwing a football and diving for seashells. It makes you feel like a bit of a kid again, and you notice the recent stress of exams, school, and work fading away.

After a few hours at the beach, the three of you make your way back to the house. You drag your gear- sunscreen, towels, snorkels, and the likes to the back porch and collapse on some of the patio furniture. Tommy wanders inside for a moment and returns with a few beers for you all to share. As you sip and make light conversation, Wanda appears from the house, a tray of snacks in hand.

“How was the beach moya lyubov?” She asks, setting down the tray in front of you three.

“It was great, Mom. You should’ve joined us,” Tommy replies before stuffing a few carrots in his mouth.

She takes the fourth chair, which happens to be next to yours, “I wanted you all to have your fun. Plus, I’ve been to that beach plenty of times.”

“Next time though,” Billy tells her and Wanda smiles a little.

“Yes, next time.”

You reach forward to grab a cracker off the tray, and you’re not unaware of the way Wanda’s eyes follow you. You lean back again and munch happily on your cracker, trying to not be self conscious under the woman’s stare.

Suddenly, Wanda reaches out and pulls on the strap of your bikini top, “I like this swimsuit, honey. Where’d you get it? I’m looking to buy some new suits so I can throw out my old ones.”

Wanda’s deliberate touch excites you, and you keep your legs crossed to hide the way your thighs sort of squeeze together.

“Uh Target, I think. The boys got their trunks there too.”

She hums softly, “It’s so hard to find flattering suits nowadays don’t you think? Either they’re two thin pieces of fabric that cover nothing at all or they’re boxy, ugly one pieces that do no one any favors.”

You groan loudly, “tell me about it. I think Billy and Tommy almost left me behind when we went shopping because of how long I was taking. Not that I blame them, though I told them it’s also not my fault there are so few good options.”

“Mom, one swimsuit had fur,” Billy says with a shudder.

“Another looked like a disco ball,” Tommy adds, “like are you going to the beach or a strip club?”

You all burst out laughing at the sadly true comparison.

“All I can say is that I really was lucky to find this swimsuit.”

And as you lean forward to grab another cracker you swear you hear Wanda mutter under her breath, “Lucky for me too.”

*****

Much of the rest of your afternoon had been spent on that back patio talking, snacking and playing cards. Dinner had been light, and with a few booze in your body you were feeling pretty good. You’d wandered off to shower after dinner, wanting to get the sunscreen and sand off your body. The hot water and soap in your hair feels amazing, and you are appreciative of the privacy to process all of the thoughts and feelings from the day. You still haven't gotten over the comment you are sure Wanda had made earlier. A part of you wonders if you’d just made it up, your horny mind so desperate to believe that she finds you attractive too. But even though it was just above a whisper, the words echo in your mind loud and clear- “lucky for me too”. How could you make that up?

It feels wrong and, frankly, rather inappropriate to pursue your suspicions further. Wanda could’ve meant anything by what she said.

Maybe she was grateful that you bought that swimsuit, so now she knew where to buy hers too?

Maybe she was grateful she didn’t have to be subject to some ugly swimsuit you’d have been forced to wear.

Or maybe. No. You couldn’t even let yourself consider the possibility of Wanda being attracted to you. That would be a bad idea that would only get you in trouble.

You decide there is only one way to solve the problem.

After your shower, you slip out of the bathroom into your room only scantily clad in your small towel. You firmly shut the door behind you and drop your towel, making your way onto your soft bed. You lay on your back, head resting against the pillows, and spread your legs a little. You’ve been desperate to ease the ache between your legs for hours and you can’t wait any longer. You hope that maybe, if you do this, your horniness will dissolve and you can go about your business the rest of your trip happily.

As your hand trails lower between your legs, you sigh at the pressure very much needed to cure the intense ache. It feels good, really, but you only wish it was Wanda’s hand instead of your own. You shut your eyes and your breaths become heavier as you indulge for a moment, imagining that Wanda was here. You think about the way she’d say your name huskily, how her perfume would invade your nose as she held you close, how her fingers would know exactly how to make you feel good, and in no time, you’ve reached your high. Though you try to be quiet, you can’t help the semi-loud pleas of her name that leave your lips as pleasure wracks through your body.

You collapse back against your pillows, panting and your hands at your side. You can only revel in your bliss for a few moments before there is a knock on your door. You scramble up, your heart beating fast in your chest, feeling as if you’d been caught. You throw on your pajama t-shirt at the end of your bed, and it just barely covers your ass. But you figure it will work well enough to answer the door. You rush over and pull it open, and are shocked to find Wanda on the other side.

“Hey, Wanda, what’s up?” You ask breathlessly.

It’s then that you notice how her pupils are dilated, and that she has this look in her eyes. One so reminiscent of your dream.

“You know if you needed help, Detka, you could’ve just asked. I’m more than happy to help someone as pretty as you.”

[hairmetal666]

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

[pucked-bunnie]

family skate ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x reader genre: fluff ⎜romance ⎜ warnings: none! this is just cute and wholesome. synopsis: you haven't been on many dates in your life time - but you definetly haven't been on one quite like this one. word count: 4.5k authors note:  this is a much anticipated and requests part 2 of book club. I hope you all enjoy!! I doubt this will top book club but it's worth a shot

(unedited)

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“Is this date acceptable?” You ask, twirling a little in front of the mirror - trying to get your outfit from every angle. You huff, pushing your hair away from your face as you turn to face your cat currently perched on the edge of your bed. “You are no help.” You pout at him, the cat tilting his head in confusion before jumping off the bed. 

Quinn was going to be at your apartment in less then fifteen minutes and you were still second guessing your outfit. 

The mirror offers no new insights, no reassurance, just the same reflection you’ve been scrutinising for the last twenty minutes. You tug at the hem of your top, debating whether it looks too casual. Then you turn your attention to the necklace—is it too much? Not enough?

“You could at least pretend to care,” you mutter, glancing over at your cat, who’s lounging on the floor besides your bed, casually licking a paw. He pauses to give you an unimpressed look before resuming his grooming routine, as if to say, this is your mess to figure out, not mine.

You sigh dramatically, flopping onto the floor beside him. “You have no idea how hard this is,” you grumble, scratching behind his ears. He leans into your touch for all of three seconds before deciding he’s had enough and saunters off toward the windowsill.

“Traitor,” you call after him, sitting up again. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, and your stomach tightens. A quick glance at the screen tells you Quinn is on his way and will be there in less than ten minutes.

Panic sets in. You shoot to your feet, suddenly hyperaware of every little thing about your outfit that might be wrong. 

The shoes—do they match? 

The colour of your pants—too bright? Not bright enough?

You shake your head, trying to push the doubts away. This is supposed to be fun. It’s just a casual date, not a job interview, you remind yourself. But the butterflies in your stomach refuse to listen.

Your cat lets out a soft meow from his perch, and you look over to find him watching you with a curious tilt of his head. It’s almost as if he’s saying, relax, you’re overthinking this.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, smoothing a hand over your hair. “You don’t have to worry about impressing anyone. You just show up, purr, and everyone loves you.”

The doorbell rings, and your heart leaps into your throat. Okay, showtime. You grab your bag, stealing one last look in the mirror. “Here goes nothing,” you whisper, before heading to the door.

When you open it, there he is—Quinn, with that easy, lopsided smile that makes your heart do somersaults. He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers, looking just as nervous as you feel, and somehow that makes it all a little better.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes lighting up as he looks at you. “You look... wow.”

Your cheeks heat up, and you can’t help but smile. “Thanks. I, uh... wasn’t sure about the outfit.”

“Well, I’m sure,” he replies, holding the flowers out to you. “You look incredible.” You step aside to let him in, the tension in your shoulders melting away. 

“The flowers are stunning.” You say as you round the kitchen counter, quickly reaching for the vase underneath the sink - filling it with fresh water and placing the flowers inside.  

“I remember you mentioning you have a cat and probably spent about two hours checking what was toxic to them.” Quinn says with a nervous laugh, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. 

“So is this ice skating appropriate?” You question gesturing down to your outfit, the simple flared jeans and Canucks blue knitted sweater seeming overly casual the more you look down at it. “Maybe I should change?” You say quickly, Quinns head shaking vigorously as he reaches forwards to grab hold of your hand. 

“As long as you’re warm that’s all that matters.” He says lifting your hand to place a soft kiss against your knuckles before glancing down at his watch. “Besides we have no time.” He almost drags you out of your apartment only pausing to let you lock your front door, before pulling you out to his car - opening the door for you to slide in. 

You settle into the passenger seat, the warmth of Quinn’s earlier gesture still lingering on your skin. The soft scent of his cologne fills the car, and you find yourself relaxing just a little. The tension in your shoulders eases as he jogs around to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the engine.

“You really didn’t have to rush,” you say with a small laugh, buckling your seatbelt. “We could’ve been a few minutes late.” He grins as he pulls out onto the street. “Not on my watch. First impressions matter. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t stick to a plan.”

“First impressions?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “I think we’re a little past that.”

“First official date impressions,” he counters smoothly, shooting you a quick glance before focusing back on the road. “Totally different thing. Higher stakes.”

You smile, his playful energy easing the last of your nerves. The city lights blur past as the car glides down the road, and you steal a glance at him—his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a way that feels impossibly genuine.

The car hums softly as Quinn pulls into the lot underneath the Rogers Arena when the thought hits you this wasn’t just a casual skate. It was the family skate, surrounded by Quinn’s teammates, their families, and probably more cameras than you cared to think about. Quinn parks and turns to you, his signature lopsided smile breaking through any lingering nerves. 

“Ready?” he asks, though his voice carries a hint of uncertainty.

You let out a soft breath, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Are you ready? Don’t think I’m going easy on you just because this is your turf.”

His laugh is soft, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’d be offended if you did.”

He hops out of the car, grabbing the a bag from the trunk as you step out into the cool air outside the car. The sound of blaring music muffled by the stone walls of the building making you buzz with excitement. Quinn holds his hand out towards you, waiting patiently as you look down at it and then back up at him. He nods towards it once, a smiling breaking out on his face as you slide your hand into his. 

You’d held hands with Quinn before, most times without even thinking about it, but this time for some reason felt different. Quinns hand was warm against yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulls you closer to his side, nodding a quick hello to the security guard at the entrance. 

“Quinn do people know about me?” You ask softly, as the thought hits you. “I kind of feel like I’m intruding.” You whisper as you follow him down the hallways, the music getting louder the close you get to the ice. 

Quinn slows his steps, turning to face you with a reassuring smile. “They know about you,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Not everything—but enough to know you’re important to me.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, but you still hesitate, glancing down the hallway toward the growing buzz of voices and music. “Important enough to bring me to this?”

He grins, leaning closer so only you can hear. “Important enough that I want you to see this part of my world. And… well, if I’m being honest, I think they’ll love you.” You balk at his words, a little Quinn quickly adding, “But watch out for Elias, he’s way too excited to meet you.” You nod your head. 

Quinn had talked about Elias Pettersson - his best friend - several times when you have spent time together in the store. Explained how despite Elias always wanting the best for him, the swede couldn’t help but mess with his captain whenever present with an opportunity. 

You raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Even if I wipe out on the ice in front of all of them?” You say, suddenly second guessing all of your athletic abilities. 

Quinn chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. “Especially then. They’ll think you’re just like me.”

That earns a laugh from you, easing some of the tension in your chest. “You’re really not worried about that?”

“Not even a little,” he says confidently, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Besides, I’ll be right there to catch you. The thought of falling doesn’t seem so bad when he says it like that. Taking a deep breath, you nod, letting his calm confidence steady you. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

With your hand still in his, he leads you into the rink. The air is colder, sharper, and the arena is alive with activity—kids darting across the ice, laughter echoing off the walls, and players chatting with their families near the benches.

As you step closer to the boards, you notice a few of the players turning to look your way. Some of the guys offer warm smiles, a few nodding in greeting, most looking between you and their captain in astonishment. 

“A lot of them thought I was bluffing.” He whispers to you as he reaches to grab a pair of skates from the bag he’s carrying and hands them to you. “Think you can handle these?” He questions, showing you the tan coloured Bauer hockey skates - the fleece lining already calling your name. 

“Quinn these are like three hundred dollars.” You hiss under your breath, leaning forwards to make sure no one else can hear you. Quinn shrugs, leading you over to the bench motioning for you to sit down. 

“Consider it payment for being willing to go on a date with me.” He says softly, dropping one skate on the bench besides you before fiddling with the one still in his hands. Quinn loosens the laces on the skate, adjusting it until it’s ready to slip on your foot. “Shoes off.” He says quickly, leaving no time for you to argue, as you toe your sneakers off and slip them under the bench. 

Quinn bends a little, helping you slip your foot into the skate before lifting your leg till your foot sits comfortably between his two thighs, his hands making quick work of fitting the skate to your foot. “Let me know if it’s too tight.” He says softly, his brows furrowed in concentration as he pulls each lace tight, one by one. He asks you to wiggle your toes, making sure the fit is comfortable before gently dropping your foot to the ground and repeating the process with your other skate. 

You watch Quinn as he works, his movements careful and deliberate, his hands steady as they tug at the laces. His focus is so intense that you almost forget where you are, the buzz of the rink fading into the background for a moment.

"You're really good at this," you say, breaking the silence.

He glances up, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Well, I've had some practice."

"Yeah, but still," you tease. "This is next-level service. I feel spoiled."

He chuckles, finishing the second skate and giving your knee a playful pat. "You're supposed to feel spoiled. That's the point."

Your cheeks warm at his words, and you’re grateful for the excuse to look away as you flex your feet in the skates, testing the fit. "These feel amazing," you admit.

"Good," he says, standing up and offering you his hand. "Now let's see if you can stay on your feet."

You laugh but take his hand, letting him help you up. The skates feel sturdy, even though it takes a moment to adjust to the feeling on walking on the blades, Quinn keeping his hands ready as he follows behind you. 

“Your lack of trust in my ability is astounding.” You call, as you step up to the open door on the bench, bracing both hands on the sides as you finally step onto the ice. The chill hits you immediately, sharper and more invigorating than you remember, the surface is smooth and gleaming, and your skates slide easily, almost too easily as your body gets back into the routine of skating. 

"Okay, this is a little harder than I remember," you admit as you wobble slightly. Quinn grins, skating backward in front of you, his hands reaching out to grab hold of yours. 

"You're doing fine. Just trust your feet." He says, thankful for his assistance as you remind yourself to keep your knees bent. 

You glance down at the ice, then back up at him. "Easy for you to say, Mr. NHL Star." You laugh, panicking as he moves to pull his hands from yours. “Don’t you dare.” You hiss, Quinn let out a bark of laughter as he pulls you closer to the centre of the rink. 

With his steady guidance, you feel your confidence grow, giving him a quick nod as he slowly releases your hands you body finally remembering how to skate confidently as Quinn sidles up besides you, his smile infectious as you make your way around the rink comfortably. 

"You’re a natural," Quinn says after a while, his voice warm with encouragement.

“I told you I knew how to skate,” you reply, but you can’t help smiling, “with maybe a bit of a rocky start.” 

"Maybe a little," he admits with a wink. "But you’re doing great."

As you glide along the boards, a few of Quinn’s teammates skate by, some offering waves or teasing remarks. One of them—a tall guy with a mischievous grin—calls out, "Quinn’s got his hands full tonight!"

"Jealous, Petey?" Quinn shoots back, his tone lighthearted.

The guy—Petey—grins. "Always, Hughesy. Always." Quinn’s teammate circles around once before making his way back to you and Quinn, slipping himself between you and your date with a cheeky smile, shooting his captain a wink before linking his arm with yours. “I need to borrow her for a minute.” He says, Quinn opening his mouth to complain but you’re already being dragged away from him. 

You’re whisked away before you can even process what’s happening, your skates gliding awkwardly as Petey pulls you along. You glance over your shoulder at Quinn, who shakes his head with an amused smile, clearly letting Petey have his moment.

“Sorry about Hughesy,” Petey says, steering you toward a quieter corner of the rink where a few other players are gathered. “He’s not usually this good at showing off.”

“Showing off?” you ask, your voice tinged with playful skepticism.

Petey smirks. “Oh, yeah. Trust me, this is peak ‘look at me, I have a girlfriend’ energy.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling a little of the lingering tension ease. “I wouldn’t say he’s showing off. He’s just…” You hesitate, searching for the right word.

“Obsessed?” Petey supplies, his grin widening. “It’s cute, don’t worry. We’re all rooting for him.” Before you can respond, another player skates over, clapping Petey on the shoulder. “Stop scaring her, man. She just got here.”

“Am I scaring you?” Petey asks dramatically, placing a hand over his heart like he’s offended.

“Not at all,” you reply, unable to suppress a grin. “You’re more… enthusiastic.”

The second guy laughs. “Come on, man, let her get back to Quinn before he skates over here and kicks you in the ankles.”

Petey sighs theatrically, releasing your arm. “Fine. But only because I’m nice.” He pauses, looking you over with an approving nod. “You’re good for him. Don’t let him mess this up.”

“I’ll do my best,” you promise, chuckling as Petey skates off with his friend.

When you return to Quinn, he’s standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I can’t leave you alone for five seconds, can I?”

You shrug, your grin wide. “Your teammates are… lively.”

“Yeah, they’re something,” he says, rolling his eyes fondly. “What did Petey say?”

“Nothing you need to know.”

“Great you’ve already got secrets with my friends.” Quinn groans, “It wasn’t anything bad was it?” 

“I’m just glad you think I’m worth showing off for.” You tease, watching as Quinn spin shooting a glare at his friend who is already laughing as he skates to the bench. You laugh with Petey, slipping your arm through Quinn’s. “Don’t worry, I think it’s cute.” You say, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

His cheeks flush slightly. “Glad to hear it. Now, ready to show these guys you can out-skate them?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, feigning confidence. Quinn grins, pulling you back toward the centre of the ice. “That’s the spirit.”

As the evening goes on, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The gentle guidance of Quinn’s hand, the light teasing from his teammates, and the vibrant energy of the rink all blend together into something that feels magical.

When you finally step off the ice, your cheeks are pink from the cold and laughter, your legs pleasantly tired. Quinn helps you sit back on the bench and starts unlacing your skates with the same careful attention he’d shown earlier.

“Thank you,” you say softly, watching him work.

He looks up, his expression warm. “For what?”

“For bringing me here. For letting me be a part of this.”

Quinn’s smile deepens, and he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.” Your heart swells at his words, and as he finishes with your skates and helps you into your shoes, he makes quick work of pulling off his own skates, slipping on his sneakers as he pulls you up from the bench with him. 

As you rise, Quinn keeps your hand firmly in his, leading you out of the rink. The arena is quieter now, the echoes of laughter and skates on ice fading as families and players begin to trickle out. The cold air nips at your face as you step into the hallway, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth still lingering from Quinn’s words.

“So,” he says as you walk side by side, his voice soft, “what’s the verdict? Best date ever, or are you just being polite?”

You chuckle, giving his hand a playful squeeze. “It’s definitely up there. Though, I feel like there’s some bias—being surrounded by professional skaters might give the date an unfair edge.”

Quinn grins, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “I’ll take that as a win.”

As you approach the exit, a few of his teammates call out their goodbyes, and you wave shyly, still getting used to the attention. One of them jokes, “Don’t let him scare you off, okay?”

Quinn groans, shaking his head. “I’m never bringing you around these guys again.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like seeing you in your element.”

“Yeah?” he asks, glancing over at you, his expression softening.

“Yeah,” you reply, your smile matching his. “You seem… happy. Comfortable.”

“I am,” he says, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that makes your stomach flutter. “More than I have been in a while.” As you reach his car, he opens the passenger door for you, and you slide in, the warmth of the vehicle a welcome contrast to the crisp night air. Quinn joins you a moment later, turning on the heat before glancing over at you.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Starving,” you admit.

“Good,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot. “Because I know a place.”

The drive is quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that feels natural rather than forced. The city lights blur past the window, and you find yourself stealing glances at Quinn, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard.

When he pulls up to a small, cozy diner, you smile. “This is the place?”

He nods. “Best milkshakes in the city. Trust me.” You follow him inside, the warmth and smell of comfort food wrapping around you like a hug. As you slide into the booth across from him, you can’t help but think that this night, with its mix of nerves, laughter, and quiet moments, has been just about perfect. 

Quinn leans back against the booth, his eyes scanning the menu even though it seems like he already knows what he wants. He glances up at you with a smirk, catching you mid-gaze as you try to take in every little detail of him—how the corners of his mouth curl up slightly when he’s relaxed, the way his fingers drum lightly against the table.

“Caught you,” he teases, his voice low but warm.

Your cheeks heat up as you quickly pick up your own menu. “Just deciding what to order,” you reply, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He chuckles softly, clearly not buying it but letting it slide. “Well, if you trust me, I’d say go with the chocolate peanut butter shake. It’s a classic.”

“Noted,” you say, still scanning the menu. “And what are you getting?”

“Same,” he says, setting the menu down confidently. “And the fries here? Unreal. We have to share.”

You laugh, finally closing your menu. “Fine, but only if I get to steal more than half.”

“Deal,” he says with a grin. The server comes by, taking your orders with a friendly smile, and as soon as they leave, Quinn rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly. His eyes, even under the warm diner lights, hold a softness that makes your stomach flip.

“So,” he says, his tone teasing, “what’s the verdict on skating with a bunch of NHL players? Intimidating or not so bad?” You think for a moment, tapping your fingers lightly against the edge of the table. 

“Not so bad,” you admit. “But I think I was more worried about falling and making a fool of myself than anything else.”

Quinn’s smile widens. “You handled it like a pro. Way better than I did my first time skating with those guys.”

“Wait, are you telling me you’ve fallen on the ice in front of your teammates before?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up in mock disbelief.

“Not just fallen,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve wiped out. Full-on face-plant. And they will never let me live it down.”The image of Quinn sprawled out on the ice has you laughing so hard your sides ache. 

“You? The guy who skates backward without even trying? I need to see proof.”

“Oh, there’s proof,” he groans, shaking his head. “But you’re not getting your hands on it.”

You narrow your eyes at him, pretending to think. “We’ll see about that.”

The conversation flows easily, a mix of playful banter and genuine moments, and by the time your milkshakes and fries arrive, it feels like no time has passed at all. Quinn slides the basket of fries toward you first, motioning for you to take the first bite.

“Okay, you hyped these up,” you say, picking one up and dipping it into the side of ketchup. “They’d better be amazing.”

You take a bite, and your eyes widen in surprise. “Okay, wow. These are ridiculous.”

“Told you,” he says smugly, grabbing a fry of his own. “Now you see why I keep coming back here.” The two of you fall into a rhythm—sharing fries, sipping milkshakes, and trading stories about everything and nothing. It’s easy, comfortable, like you’ve been doing this for years instead of just one night. At one point, Quinn tells you about a prank his teammates pulled involving a lost skate blade and a bucket of confetti, and you laugh so hard you almost choke on your milkshake.

When the food is gone and the server drops off the check, Quinn is quick to grab it, waving off your protest before you can even get a word out.

“You can get the next one,” he says with a grin, slipping his card into the little black folder. “If I let you win.”

“Oh, you’re planning on more dates?” you tease, though your heart skips at the implication.

He leans forward slightly, his expression playful but earnest. “Absolutely.”

The drive back to your apartment is quieter but no less comfortable, the kind of silence that feels natural, like neither of you needs to fill it with words. When Quinn pulls up outside your building, he hops out quickly, coming around to open your door for you.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you tease, stepping out.

“Not on my watch,” he replies with a wink.

The cold night air greets you as you step outside. Snowflakes drift lazily down, dusting the cars and sidewalks with a fresh layer of white. Quinn pauses, looking up at the sky.

“Perfect end to the night,” he says, his breath visible in the chill.

You tilt your head back, letting the snowflakes land on your face. “It really is.”

Quinn watches you for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then, without warning, he scoops up a handful of snow, quickly packing it into a loose ball.

“What are you—” you start, but before you can finish, he gently taps the snowball against your shoulder, laughing.

“Oh, you’re asking for it,” you say, bending down to gather your own snow.

What follows is a brief but spirited snowball fight, laughter ringing out into the quiet night. Quinn, as it turns out, is both fast and surprisingly accurate, though he’s careful not to pelt you too hard. You manage to land a shot right on his chest, and his mock-offended expression is priceless. Finally, breathless and grinning, you both call a truce. Quinn brushes the snow off his jacket, his cheeks pink from the cold.

“You’re pretty competitive,” he says, his eyes twinkling.

“You bring it out of me,” you reply with a shrug, still smiling.

You both linger in the snow, his soft brown curls slowly becoming more decorated with the dropping snowflakes, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. With the snow falling softly and the world feels impossibly still. Quinn looks down at you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression softer now.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He steps closer, his breath visible in the cold. “No, thank you. For saying yes.”

For a moment, it feels like the world stops entirely. Then, Quinn reaches up, brushing a snowflake off your cheek before letting his hand linger, his thumb grazing your skin gently. Your breath catches, and before you can think, he’s leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s as soft and warm as the snow falling around you, his hands latching onto your sweater to pull you closer.

When he pulls back, his eyes search yours, his voice quiet. “Can I see you again?” 

You smile, your cheeks flushing, but this time it’s not from the cold. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’d like that.”

[harryspet]

Bimbo reader maybe / kinda like hostage situation where she is in a cabin with him and she has Stockholm syndrome 🥹

[warnings] dark!daddy!rafe x bimbo!little!reader, this takes place in a cabin though i realize now i don't even mention it lol, DUBCON, stockholm syndrome, implied kidnapping

18+ MDNI

“Have you been good today, hmm?”

Eagerly, you nodded, gazing up at your captor with hopeful eyes. You had been diligent, completing every task on the list he had assigned and waiting patiently for his return. Today was special, he had promised that, as a reward, he would finally let you out of your room.

“I have been, Daddy, I promise,” You answered obediently. You rose from your desk, crossing your bedroom, and handing him your homework, “Look, I did all my worksheets.”

“I see, get down on your knees baby while Daddy looks these over.”

You smiled weakly, holding onto his legs to steady yourself as you lowered yourself to the ground in front of him. You looked up at his figure, strong and imposing, and instinctively your hands found the button of his jeans. 

You recalled the effort you had put in throughout the day: matching baby animals with their mothers, coloring vibrant butterflies from Africa, tracing the alphabet with charming illustrations, and rhyming words by pairing pictures of objects that sounded alike. Each task was completed with care in sparkling pink ink, while you wore a plaid skirt that barely covered your white underwear.

Rafe was kind to let your mind be occupied while he was away. It kept you mentally stimulated. A little girl like you shouldn’t have to concern herself with adult matters, but there was still so much to learn.

“You did such a good job, baby. Tell Daddy something you learned.”

Unzipping his pants, you freed his cock from his jeans. Wrapping your hands around the thick base of him, Rafe’s lips parted and he gave you a look of wanting, of anticipation, “Uh, uhm, something I learned ….oh!” Something came to your mind just as you brought your lips closer to his tip, “I learned about patterns. Patterns repeat in a certain way. Like red-blue-red-blue, that’s a pattern!”

Strong hands caressed your cheek as beautiful blue eyes stared down at you, “What a smart little bunny. You make Daddy so hard, baby,” He groaned huskily as your mouth filled with spit and you took his tip inside your mouth, “Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

It wasn’t your favorite thing to do with Rafe. Prying your mouth open often made your jaw ache and the taste …you didn’t love the taste. However, Rafe would get mad if you didn’t swallow. . Over time, you had perfected the art of swallowing him and forcing a smile through the discomfort. It wasn’t pleasant, but you had learned that keeping him happy meant he would finish quickly.

“I love that fucking mouth,” Rafe grunted as you swirled your tongue around him. You pumped him with your hands as your mouth focused on his moth sensitive area, “Smart little bunny. So good at sucking my cock.”

Rafe had a habit of talking to himself while you were with him, and you had come to accept it as part of the routine. He preferred to grab your head and push himself deeper when he was close, which was the only way he wanted to finish. That’s when you often found yourself struggling to catch your breath, with tears usually welling up in your eyes as you waited for him to let you breathe again. When he finally did, you felt a wave of relief and focused on maintaining a composed appearance. You tried to stifle your coughs and gave him a look that conveyed your gratitude.

“Good girl,” He’d usually say as he rubbed himself across your lips, tapping himself against your cheeks as he made a mess of you, “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Daddy, for letting me suck your cock.”

“You’re welcome, bunny.”

“Does that mean I-I can leave my room today?”

Rafe nodded his head as he concealed himself again, looking down at you as he zipped his pants, “You’re just so excited, aren’t you?”

You nodded your head quickly, practically bouncing in place, “Yes, yes, I’m super–really excited!”

“You want up?” He held his hands out to you, a comforting gesture. You placed your hands in his and Rafe helped you to your feet before lifting you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and he carried you towards the door. 

You were smart to always obey your Daddy.

+

hope you enjoyed!

rafe cameron masterlist

[seattlesellie]

i need nerdy loser ellie who wears those big bulky glasses so bad it’s not even funny

yeah cos …. yeah .

i have this vision — of slightly sub!top, service top of you will, loser!ellie eating you out whilst her big nerdy glasses stay glued to the bridge of her nose (until they aren’t)

her face is hot and flushed and heated, long, thick eyelashes fluttering up and down like extra-slow butterfly wings as her talented pink muscle flicks your swollen clit up and down. she takes her time with it, and she really is talented, but more than talented she really is oblivious to the way she’s making you feel, eyebrows scrunched in worry and in question — you can almost hear her shaky voice ask if she’s doing a good job.

which is why when you send your head back and it bangs on the bathroom stall with a loud and resounding thud, and a guttural moan escapes from your lips, ellie moans with you. you just answered her question, she is doing a good job. the best job.

and her low moan sends shivers down your spine, hell — shivers down your clit and your pulsing empty hole.

“s- s- s’good ellie-uh!” — you wail, grinding your cunt extra hard on ellie’s inviting tongue. she shakes her head left and right, and it’s that damn praise that makes her cross her legs together and chase that sweet, alas imperfect friction her jeans provide against her covered sopping pink cunt. ellie then grunts in agreement, buries her nose beneath the hood of your puffy clit. she moves rapidly, eagerly, bobbing her head up and down to earn herself another whine from your lips that might make her wet herself on the spot.

and to think her friends mocked and teased her for having a pathetic crush on the hot girl from class. mocked her for doodling your face in her journal, mocked her for staring at you too hard when you entered the class late with an iced coffee cup in your hand, and now — who’s fuckin’ pussy is she eating in a humid college bathroom stall?

she nearly reaches down her pants and searches her pockets in order to find her cracked phone and send them a pic. she doesn’t, however, because you just moaned out her name so beautifully her hands changed direction and crawled down to cup her cunt. she’s harsh, she grunts and huffs, eyes rolling back inside her skull when she realizes she can feel her slick through the thick fabric of her washed denim jeans.

her eyeballs nearly touch the clear lenses of her glasses but she doesn’t mind. not when your skirt is bunched up on your thighs and your fingers spread your pussy lips open like that.

and it really is all for her, so bravery washes upon ellie, and she slides an eager finger up your hole. it nearly burns, she pumps it slowly, you clench on her nevertheless and she smiles against your cunt. you can feel her harsh breaths, her sniffles, you don’t know if she’s like this because being on her knees is hard or because she’s trying to burn your intoxicating scent up her nostrils.

then she clarifies,

“wanna eat you o-out f-forever”

you bite down on your bottom lip and suck, you want to tell her that she will, but all that comes out is a pathetic hum of agreement.

she stops, blinks in awe and adjusts her glasses to sit correctly on the bridge of her nose. you shriek because she’s edging you and you’re not sure she even knows it. “n-never seen a pussy so, pretty, i’ve never—“ she stammers, “uh” and “um” ‘s as if she’s going on a rampage about a constellation of some sort.

it really takes all that is in you to not shove her face down your cunt again. she’s lucky her voice is so raspy and that it’s truly adorable how her glasses fog up in result of her harsh breathing.

you spread your lips wider but she doesn’t get the hint. she keeps going, keeps talking, so awfully close to your clit it’s burning hot now.

“it’s so swollen, so fuckin’ wet… s’tight”

you nod and sheepishly smile, ellie giggles like a damn schoolgirl beneath you. her knees are probably chafing and her fingers are probably pruning up for spending so much time up her hole but you really don’t care. neither does she.

so you circle your clit slowly and your head lulls back, ellie humps her bare hand.

“i could fuckin’ cum j-jus’ from watchi…”

you lift your finger, placing it inside your mouth and suck. your cheeks hollow in, giving ellie an exaggerated show. you hum at your taste, then you moan when the taste of her saliva runs down your throat. you take it out of your mouth with a plop.

then you bend down, ellie gulps hard.

“ellie?”

she hums, in trance.

“d’ya know what a strap on is?”

then her glasses slip down from her nose and hit the pavement with a click.

no fucking way.

[strawberriesoup]

Hey hey! I’ve recently come across your blog and I just adore your writing.

I’m a sucker for Hannie catching feelings, being nervous, and flustered when he likes someone.

So I’m really interested in your take on Jisung getting ready for his first date with y/n. What’s going on in his head? Where does he take her? Is it a night in or a night out?

Does he kiss her? I really want him too. I wanna know it unfolds.

I’m just feeling so lovey dovey and warm and fuzzy over him 🥰🥰🥰

THIS IS SO CUTE???? I imagine he’s SO NERVOUS for the first date, like what if he messes up? what if he says the wrong thing?

word count: 1k

genre: han jisung x female reader, fluff fluff fluff

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Jisung holds yet another shirt in front of him, scrutinizing his appearance in the mirror. Don’t overthink this. She’s literally just coming over for dinner.

It was actually you who had suggested the date, looking much more confident than he felt. He’s positive that he scrambled up his words in his eagerness to agree, much to his embarrassment, but you seemed to have gotten the point. In his defense, it’s quite hard to form a cohesive sentence when you’re smiling at him like that.

Wiping his clammy hands on his jeans— should he have worn jeans? Would sweats be better?— Jisung finally decides on a simple black tee. (after a brief internal game of eenie meenie of course.)

Deciding on the location of the date was the easy part. Both of you are big homebodies, preferring the familiarity and sanctity of home rather than a loud, public place. The hard part was choosing whose house to have it at. After much “productive debate” it was decided that the date would take place in his apartment, and you would bring the food.

As if on cue, four sharp knocks are heard at the door right as Jisung finishes arranging his hair just so.

He restrains himself from booking it to the door, decidedly clamping down on the sudden spark of butterflies let loose in his gut.

Upon answering the door, he is immediately at a loss for words. Again. Honestly, he is much better at expressing his feelings in lyrics rather than actually saying them out loud.

You just look so… Perfect. The way your eyes crinkle up as you greet him with that smile, the slight crookedness of your jacket paired with your cheeks, rosy from the November cold. He really hopes you can’t hear the way his heart picked up just now.

“So you gonna let me in or what?” You chuckle, eyes dancing with amusement, “This takeout isn’t going to eat itself you know.”

“Oh! Yeah— right!” Jisung stumbles, “Come in, uh… make yourself at home.” The takeout bag crinkles as he takes it from you, allowing you to kick off your shoes and hang up your jacket.

His gaze jumps from the oversized tee that frames your figure just so, to the hint of a cute little pleated skirt peeking from underneath the hem. Immediately, he jerks his attention back up to your face, albeit not before you noticed him checking you out. He can feel the tips of his ears burn as you raise your eyebrows and send him a sweet little smile.

Yeah, you’re trying to kill him.

Thankfully, dinner went smoothly, as Jisung had finally managed to get his mouth and brain on the same wavelength (except when you had gotten a bit of sauce just under your lip, and instead of letting you know he kind of just stared at it.)

After the dishes had been put away and an impromptu acapella performance of “Sugar” by Maroon 5 had been performed, you two end up sat on the couch with a blanket, scrolling through Netflix for something interesting to watch.

Settling on a penguin documentary, Jisung flicks off the overhead lights before settling back down on the couch with you. He’s careful to keep a bit of space between your legs and his, not wanting to come off too strong. He wants to hold you close and run his hand through your hair. He wants to feel the pulse of your wrist flutter underneath his fingertips, the curve of your bone beneath your skin. He wants to. So badly. But he won’t, not yet. You’d probably think he’s weird.

So, when you scoot your butt towards him so your hips touch and lean your head to rest on his shoulder, it’s safe to say Jisung was a bit surprised. So much so that in fact instead of reciprocating the motion at all, he freezes in place. He scarcely dares to breathe, in fear that the slightest movement from him might cause you to move off him like a skittish cat.

Upon realizing you don’t have any plans of moving any time soon, he takes a deep breath before wrapping his arm around you, pulling you to lean on his chest rather than his shoulder.

He can feel your smile as you sigh and snuggle into him, and he thinks his heart might burst. The nervousness of earlier, the jumbled thoughts, the need to act just right, all dissipates now that you’re here in his arms.

It was 1:00 am by the time you needed to head home. Passionate discussions on the gender roles of penguins can sometimes take a while alright?

As he accompanies you to the door, he momentarily pouts to himself that you can’t stay over. Woah, Jeez. Slow down. It’s the first date.

Before he could hug you goodbye, you’re tugging on his shirt collar dragging him down to plant a kiss on his cheek. Pulling away, you giggle at the shocked look he gives you. Jisung’s face feels hot, and without thinking, he hooks an arm around your waist, drawing you flush against him. Looking into your eyes for permission, he dips down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

It’s brief, but those three seconds feel like a lifetime to Jisung. You’re so soft, so perfect, so you. Everything falls right into place, a perfect puzzle woven from the strings of life.

You pull away and boop him on the nose.

“Next time, it’ll be at my place.”

@jisunggy

[alwaysurvalentine]

scary movie marathon - st fic

Written for Day 27 of @steddie-spooktober prompt: scary movies - wc: 1.6k - cw: some cussing

enjoy! 💛

Steve’s idea of a great date night? Scary movie marathon. If you pick the right movies, your date will hide their face in your shoulder and you have an excuse to hold onto them for the duration. If you’re lucky, you might even get them in your lap where you can provide some distraction.

At least, this is how things typically worked when Steve went on dates with the girls of Hawkins High. He should’ve expected that, like most things with Eddie, that wouldn’t be the case with the other boy. When he’d first suggested the movie night, Eddie had assumed it was a group thing and started talking to Robin about what movies she was going to bring. Luckily, Robin can read Steve’s mind, and also his rapid signaling behind Eddie, so she made up an excuse on why she was busy that night. Eddie had shrugged and turned to Steve with a smirk that sent butterflies straight to Steve’s stomach. 

~

The night had come faster than Steve expected and he eyed the movies in his front seat warily when he pulled up to Eddie’s trailer. He knew the other boy would probably like anything they watched, a huge fan of any and all horror no matter how bad. But Eddie also had a habit about seeing Steve more than other people. What if he realized something about him that Steve didn’t mean to reveal? What if he thought the movies he chose were dumb? Or too mainstream to be considered bad enough to loop back to good? This was a terrible idea. Steve’s hand rested on his gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and call Eddie with a fake illness cover story when the boy in question stepped out of the trailer and waved. 

Steve had just gotten used to the black jeans and leather jacket Eddie normally wore, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the cropped Black Sabbath shirt displaying the underneath of Eddie’s chest all the way to his navel. The sunset painted the scars adorning his stomach into a soft pink, like a gentle swoop of a paint brush. Steve’s own matching scars never looked so soft, instead red and angry any time he caught a glance of them in the mirror. Eddie’s grin sharpened as he approached Steve’s car, brown eyes alight with something when he cracked open Steve’s door.

“Cat got your tongue there, Stevie?” 

If blinks were audible, Steve knows his would’ve been deafening. “Whatever Eddie, hope you’re ready to be scared.” He didn’t dare to look at Eddie when he grabbed the movies, scared the older boy would know what he was thinking. 

“Ha! Me, scared? I’m a connoisseur of horror, a weaver of terrible tales, it takes a lot to scare the likes of me!” A cartoonish evil laugh erupted from Eddie as he walked forward, sliding his slippers off at the front door. The trailer felt just as welcoming as it had done all the times before, but now there were orange string lights covering the wall behind the TV and it smelled distinctly of popcorn.

In seemed in the time it had taken Steve to go home and change, Eddie had set up a full array of snacks for them. Popcorn in one bowl, M&Ms in another, even a bag of red vines sat to the side. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d want to drink. We have coke and beer.” Eddie cringes at his words, though Steve can’t imagine why, and he’s already heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll just have what you’re having.” The fridge door opens and Steve sets his movies on the table, eyes catching on the starting menu for The Fly. Eddie comes back with two opened beers, passing Steve’s over by the neck before taking a quick swig of his own. 

“Okay, so we’re starting with one of the best horror movies ever.” 

~

“What the fuck?! Eddie, what the fuck?” Steve can’t look at the screen anymore, the transformation from man to fly sending his stomach into a riot. He’s tucked his face behind his hands and leaned towards Eddie like that’ll save him from the screen. Which is when he notices Eddie’s got an arm around his shoulders and he can feel him laughing against him. How did he not realize Eddie using his own moves against him?

“I know. It’s fucked up isn’t it? And the special effects are so good!” Eddie almost sounds excited, which would be nice if Steve couldn’t hear the sound of Jeff Goldblum’s character losing the last of his humanity. He gags and covers his ears instead, leaning fully into Eddie and turning his head towards the cologne he can smell on Eddie’s neck instead of the screen. 

“It’s disgusting is what it is.” Steve’s breath ghosts over Eddie’s collarbone and he swears he can see the moment Eddie’s heart starts beating faster. Interesting. He’s hopeful so Steve leans closer and feels Eddie’s arm tighten incrementally around him. 

“Steve?” He nods against the metalhead’s neck, newly focused on figuring out just what the older boy smells like under the cigarette smoke that follows him around. “Can I say something crazy?” Eddie’s tense as he talks, arm slipping from Steve’s shoulders so he can reach for the remote. “I mean, maybe it’s not crazy compared to you know, the entire Upside Down and like the last four years of your life. But it’s a big deal to me. Robin said you were fine with her, and clearly you are because she’s like your whole soulmate. Platonic, I know.” 

All of the air is stuck in Steve’s lungs, making his chest tight and he’s just waiting for the pit in his stomach to swallow him whole. He’s opened his mouth to speak a couple of times but nothing is coming out – Eddie’s drowning in a sea of insecurities and he’s doing nothing to help. 

“Okay. I’m just going to spit it out. I’m gay and I have the biggest crush on you.” 

I have the biggest crush on you.

Steve can breathe again. His cheeks are hot and he knows if he looked in a mirror they’d be bright pink. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s quiet enough in the trailer that Steve can hear when Eddie chokes on his inhale. 

“..what?” Eddie’s shoulders aren’t tense anymore, and he tilts his head at Steve with furrowed brows. He almost looks like a puppy. 

“Sorry, yeah, totally cool with the gay thing. Even more on board with the crush thing, so can I kiss you?” 

Eddie’s still just looking at Steve with wide, brown eyes. 

Alright, that’s fine, Steve can close the distance. Steve leans forward slowly and brushes the curls away from Eddie’s face, watches his eyes go wide with wonder before leaning in. Their noses bump when their lips first meet but then Eddie tilts his head and Steve’s world with it. Eddie’s hands come up to cup Steve’s jaw, cold rings sending sparks along his face and Steve smiles into the kiss. They part for a moment, matching grins on their faces. After a beat, Eddie leans in again and Steve shifts closer on the couch. 

As soon as he starts shifting, Eddie’s hands start tugging him closer until Steve’s straddling the older boy’s black jean clad lap. Steve boxes him in easily, resting slightly on Eddie’s lap to change the angle again. Eddie nips at his lip, gaining full access to his mouth when Steve gasps at the sensation. The sounds of the movie have completely faded now, Steve more focused on the soft smacking of their lips when they disconnect and meet again. 

The need for air causes them to part, but Eddie doesn’t go far, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. If it wasn’t for how warm Steve was already feeling, he might’ve been able to feel the warmth from the blush on Eddie’s face. Instead he feels Eddie’s lips against his skin as the metalhead murmurs. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Am I dreaming right now?”

“Not a dream, baby. If it wasn’t obvious, I have a huge crush on you too.”

Eddie leans more into Steve’s neck, placing a kiss at his pulse point. A couple more kisses are placed on Steve’s neck and he feels himself melt into Eddie’s lap. He feels Eddie’s hands clench slightly at the movement and then they slip under his shirt, fingertips pressing gently at Steve’s lower back and hips. A gasp escapes him when Eddie nibbles at his neck, teeth pulling at the skin in a way that Steve knows will leave a mark. 

For a moment he imagines the older boy leaving different marks on him and lending him his signature leather jacket for everyone knows who Steve belongs to. But Steve’s getting ahead of himself, this is only their first kiss. There’s no guarantee that Eddie wants this to be a serious thing. 

“Sweetheart?” When Steve glances down, Eddie’s pupils are still blown slightly even though his eyebrows are scrunched in confusion. “Did you hear me?” He must see his answer in Steve’s eyes because the confusion leaves and Steve’s looking at the softest expression he thinks he’s ever seen. 

“I asked if you wanted to be my boyfriend?” There’s an edge to Eddie’s voice and his hands tighten for a moment before loosening again. As though he’s worried about Steve’s answer, like Steve’s not already on the precipice of falling in love with he boy in front of him.

“Only if you let me take you on an official date.” All of the tension leaves Eddie and he grins, leaning up towards Steve again.

“I think I can agree with that.” 

And what else is Steve supposed to do but lean in for another kiss?

[corroded-hellfire]

Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!

Baby fever you say? 👀 Step into my office…

Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!

Words: 3.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Ugh,” Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Eliza’s nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans he’s holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.

Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics he’s inherited from their father. 

“What is taking so long?” Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground. 

Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryan’s questioning look.

“Every outfit I pick out she doesn’t like!”

Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what he’s doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesn’t have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.

“Eh?” Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.

Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once. 

“What?” Luke shouts as he bolts upright. “The Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!”

Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day. 

“She must love me more.”

“Uh, no,” Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. “Better clothes.”

Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.

“Oh, that’s too good! Please, we all know I’m her favorite,” Luke says.  

At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room. 

“I seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,” Ryan says, following the little girl’s lead and heading towards the door. 

“Well,” Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, “then this time we don’t allow him to be part of our bet.”

The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response. 

“What bet?” Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.

“Yeah, what bet?” Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his “#1 Dad” coffee mug where he leans against the counter. 

“Seeing who Eliza’s favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,” Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table. 

“I believe that would be me,” you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. “I just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.” 

“No one can compete with the Rol,” Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile. 

“She definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,” Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes. 

“I bet I could interrupt it and she’d be okay with it,” your husband says. “And will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?”

“So, you’re saying you’re the favorite, Dad?” Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking. 

“Isn’t that old news?” Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Luke’s box of Lucky Charms. 

“Everything about you is old,” Ryan says.

The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Eliza’s sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living room—Eddie’s eyes still firmly burning your back—and go to give your daughter her drink. 

“Didn’t we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,” you say. “Eliza picked Wayne over all of us.”

Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “No beating the old man. The actual old man.” Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return. 

“No,” Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. “We have to know who her favorite in the house is.” 

“Any ideas?” Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother. 

“Hmm,” Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. “I’ll brainstorm at school today.”

In the end, it’s you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much you’re able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. It’s not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof. 

After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.

“So, like, we take turns? One person a day?” Luke asks.

You nod in confirmation.

“Right. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, she’d get cranky and it wouldn’t be fair for whoever goes last.”

“What, we like, pick straws?” Ryan asks. “Then someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?”

“I’m game,” Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side. 

“So…” Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. “We just put our heads in her lap like this?” The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes. 

“Exactly,” you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. “See if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then we’ll see who she has the best reaction to.”

“I like it,” Ryan says.

“Me too,” Luke agrees. “Ryan, go get straws. Cut one short!”

With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes. 

The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out. 

Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, it’s time for the games to begin. 

You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughter’s eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer. 

Eliza’s leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan can’t help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until there’s a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what he’s doing, but happy to have his attention. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Ryan asks.

Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brother’s neck and settles back against the cushions. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, “and as a win.”

Wednesday, it’s Luke’s turn. Once Eliza’s got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. It’s clear from the moment Luke’s head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyone’s guess. 

“Ow,” Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if it’s a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. There’s a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brother’s head. However, it’s short-lived. 

Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Luke’s curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryan’s hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Luke’s curls are far tighter than his older brother’s, Eliza’s fingers quickly get caught in them. 

“Oh, please no,” Luke murmurs, but it’s too late.

Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers can’t run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Luke’s hair while letting out her own whine.

“Ouch! Why are you whining? I’m the one who’s about to be bald!”

Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter. 

“Bald?” Eddie says. “Wayne? That you?”

Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dad’s remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddler’s grip. 

Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the rat’s nest that’s become of Luke’s hair—thanks to her. She’s thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, she’d definitely be using those.

Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Eliza’s hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.

Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. She’s immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten. 

Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge. 

To Eddie and Ryan’s credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. 

“Ugh,” Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. “It’s not even 8 am yet.”

With both of the boys’ attempts out of the way, you’re up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that you’d end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and she’s let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her. 

“Good luck, babe,” Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room. 

As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. It’s odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you. 

“Mama!” Eliza chirps.

A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Eliza’s arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye. 

Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.

“Hold on,” you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, “wait to see what happens when the show comes back.”

There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens. 

Eliza’s skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show. 

“Oh, come on,” you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. It’s not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers haven’t been corrupted by life yet. 

Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips. 

“Comfy, are we?” he asks. 

It’s evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesn’t look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode. 

“All right,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. “Saved the best for last.”

“Debatable,” Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar. 

Your husband flicks Ryan’s black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off. 

“Ready?” you ask, slipping your arms around Eddie’s waist. 

“Always up for snuggles with my girls.” 

A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.

“Gross,” Luke groans.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie taunts, proving he’s as mature as his adolescent sons. 

You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddie’s cheeks. 

“Go get her,” you say.

He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.

Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesn’t even realize he’s there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddie’s jean-clad knee.  

He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until he’s able to rest his head in his daughter’s lap. 

At first, it’s as if Eliza doesn’t even notice. She’s watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return. 

One of Eliza’s tiny hands splays across Eddie’s forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble. 

Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you. 

Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. He’s about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.

There’s no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him. 

“You might just be as weird as I am,” he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder. 

That night at dinner, the results are discussed.

“So, who wins?” Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.

“Not me,” Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair. 

“Oh, relax,” Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. “It’s not like this was scored or anything.”

Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.

“My hair ruined it for me! That’s not fair!”

“You know, she can talk now,” you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.

“Good point,” Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. “Eliza, which of us is your favorite?”

The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like she’s thoughtfully thinking over the question.

“Me,” she finally says.

“No,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Which of us?” He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table. 

Eliza nods her head once, with finality. “Me.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.

“Her Majesty has spoken.”

“I don’t think it counts,” Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.

“Yeah, her vote doesn’t count,” Ryan agrees.

You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.

[rosenclaws]

this close to writing my own indulgent hardened but flirty detective logan x nerdy and quiet forensic scientist reader (gonna put this degree to good use fr)

“Got anything for me sweets?” Logan looks utterly delicious in his tight jeans and button up shirt. His badge shines on his waist as he leans against the door to your lab. You look down at your microscope. Trying to contain the butterflies in your stomach.

“Uh, well. There was at least two different guns involved. See these two cartridge cases?” You set the two of them into your microscope and pull up your computer screen.

“They’ve got two completely different apertures. See this one’s rectangular and this one isn’t. It’s not possible for them to have come from the same firearms.” You point it out to him. He hums as he inspects the two cases. He looks over at you and winks.

“Thanks sweetheart, always know I can count on you.” He leaves and you watch him go.

“You’re welcome.” You squeak out after he’s long gone.

With a sigh you look at the pile of work still left to do. Outside of talking about work you can’t seem to say more than two words to the man. He just makes you so flustered. You sit back down in your chair and place the evidence back into its packaging.

Ready to start on more comparisons, you glance towards the door. Hoping he visits again soon.

[lipglossanon]

October 5th

Kink: Praise

Pairing: Sweet Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex, creampie

not proofread

“Baby, y’sure you don’t want one of your friends to help?”

You smile at Leon as you tug him into the Halloween store. 

“Promise, besides this way we can match!”

He huffs a laugh and lets you lock your arms together, guiding him over to the back with the racks of colorful costumes on display. You hold up random outfits to him or yourself, brows pinched together, while you debate on what exactly you want to wear this year. 

“What about this one?”

You turn and have to bite your bottom lip. Leon’s holding up a cowboy costume with a cowgirl one being offered out to you. 

“Yes,” you’re nodding as you grab onto the plastic encasing the cheap fabric. “Let’s go see if they have a changing room.”

“Alright,” he scans the area and then presses a broad palm against the center of your back to guide you deeper into the store. 

Stopping in front of the dressing rooms, he goes to take a seat on the benches set up near the door. 

“Uh uh,” you pull him into the room with you and quickly shut the door. “You gotta help me try it on.”

“Oh, I do, huh?” He grins and it makes butterflies dance in your chest. 

“Mmhmm,” you drop the costume down onto the little chair that’s always in a changing room. Your hands glide up his biceps to cling to his shoulders. 

“Need your help taking my clothes off, daddy,” you raise your head up to brush your lips across his. “Especially my panties.”

“Yeah?” He groans, hands grabbing onto your hips. “Those little panties sticking to your chubby cunt, sweetheart?”

Whining, you rock your hips forward, biting down on his bottom lip when you feel his bulge through his slacks. His hands make quick work of slipping your shirt off along with your bra, fingers tweaking your nipples roughly before moving down to help you step out of your jeans and panties. 

“Oh, she’s soaking wet, baby,” he murmurs, fingers skating across your slit to rub your pussy, smearing slick into your soft skin.  

“Let daddy eat this sexy pussy,” he drops to his knees before you can even say anything. “Fuck, you always look so good.”

Biting down on your knuckles, you keep your eyes on Leon as he buries his face between your thighs, picking one leg up to drape over his shoulder so he can lick into you easier. 

“Love how you taste,” he groans, nuzzling against your clit. “Always so soft and wet, god, could stay here all day.”

“Leon,” you mewl, body buzzing with his words as his tongue slides through your soaked folds to lap at your drippy hole. 

“Such a good girl,” his tongue slides into your fluttering walls. He grinds his nose across your clit and nuzzles against your pussy lips. 

The shuffling of feet and muted conversation floods the hallway outside of your room before you hear the person take the room next to yours (door shutting and jostling the wall connecting the two rooms). Leon pulls away with a sly grin and you press your knuckles into your mouth. 

Instead of going back to eating you out, he stands up, crowding into your space. 

“Turn around, put your hands on the mirror, sweetheart,” he rotates your body until you’re facing away from him. 

Following his instructions, you place your hands on the mirror adjacent to the wall shared with the next dressing room. He pulls your hips towards him, forcing you to bend over. Glancing at his reflection in the glass, you watch as he unzips his slacks and pulls out his thick cock, your heart pounding in your chest from nerves. 

The broad head of his dick glides through your slick folds, parting your pussy lips to rub against your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter as you bite your lip to stop from making any noise. 

Leon leans forward, mouth ghosting across your ear and drawing your attention to look at the mirror into his dark blue eyes. 

“Y’gonna let daddy stuff this hot, wet pussy?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. He winks and it sends heat spiraling through you while he notches the head of his cock at your drooling hole. Leon eases himself inside of your clenching heat with measured rocks of his hips, making your toes curl, mouth panting so hard you fog up the glass. 

The loud trill of a phone jars you as the person next door answers the call. You can’t quite make out what’s being said but the cadence of their speaking filters through the thin wall, making you tense up until Leon hisses. He slowly pulls out only to thrust back in equally as slow. It makes your mouth salivate, the easy push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls has you leaking slick down your thighs to drip onto the dressing room floor. 

“So perfect, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear. “Look at how good you’re taking me, li’l pussy’s just made for my cock.”

You keen, but stifle it into a muted whine, clenching down on his dick, “Daaad.”

“C’mon now,” he croons, “look at that pretty girl taking daddy’s dick. So good for me, baby. Such a good girl.”

Your hooded eyes struggle to stay open on the reflection of Leon pumping his cock into your soaked cunt. His words drive your arousal higher and higher, clit throbbing and swollen. 

“Touch me, daddy, please,” you gasp, “wanna cum.”

“Of course,” he moves one hand down to cup your hot pussy, fingers rubbing over your slippery bundle of nerves. “Daddy’s perfect girl deserves to feel good, doesn’t she?”

“Uh huh,” you moan softly. “Feels so good.”

The person occupying the neighboring room bumps the wall and makes you gasp. Leon doesn’t stop playing with your clit or driving his dick into your squelching pussy. Your dazed eyes watch his own flutter closed as he tips his head back, neck tendons taut as he keeps his slow and steady pace. 

Watching him bite his lip does you in, walls fluttering and milking his cock as your orgasm steals your breath. Thighs shaking from the pleasure whiting out your brain, your eyes fall shut, willing yourself to keep as quiet as possible. Leon swears under his breath and lets himself fuck into you a little faster. 

“Cum inside me,” you whimper. “Wanna feel full.”

“Fucking Christ,” he groans, “yeah? Fuck, g’nna cum, goddamn—“

He muffles his moan into your neck as he leans forward and buries his cock deep into your pulsing hole. Your cunt flutters around his thick length as he shoots rope after rope of hot cum until he’s completely spent. Pulling away with a low hiss, he helps you pull your panties back into place before his spend drips everywhere.

Turning you around, he kisses you, tongue pushing into your mouth to taste you. Groaning, he presses you against the wall and sloppily makes out with you until the wall jostles again from the neighboring door slamming open and shut. 

“Probably should just get these, huh?” He pulls back with a grin. 

“I’m totally fine with it. Cowboys are hot,” you smile back. “Let’s head home, I wanna round two where I can actually be loud.” 

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 9

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: evan picks you up and takes you to homecoming, being very excited for you to wear his jersey. while you know nothing about football, you make sure to cheer him on, leading to a bit of teasing from evan’s teammates.

word count: 4.0k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: so after i wrote this i decided to make them students at USC, and after googling their stadium i realized it was way bigger than how i wrote it, so lots of this is barely believable if you’re actually familiar with american college football and their stadiums/crowds/etc (i think? i’m not american). this is so main character coded and also is probably not accurate to real homecomings at all but i don’t care!! just ignore it<3 by the way, the touchdown conversation is also based on my very real (and very awkward) conversation i had with a man (i call it fucking idiot rizz)😔 im so sorry to put you through it rn. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: reader knows nothing about football (affectionate), evan playing football (hot), no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

At 6:00, a knock on the door interrupts your pacing. You can’t help being nervous, thinking about watching a game you don’t know any of the rules for, about going to an afterparty with a bunch of rowdy football players, about everyone seeing you with Evan’s name on your back. As much as it makes butterflies swarm in your belly, a part of you is nervous about the attention it might bring you.

You open the door and are faced with Evan, a wide grin on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes trail down your body, noticing your short jean shorts showing off your thick thighs, and your white oversized crop top hanging off your shoulder slightly, showing off a sliver of your soft tummy and cleavage.

“Hi.” you greet him softly, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind you, holding eye contact with him.

“Hey princess, you look good.” he tells you, his hand going to the back of your neck to pull you in for a chaste kiss. You hum softly as his lips meet yours, leaning into him..

“Thank you,” you mumble against his lips. You pull back as he does, and look down, rubbing your hands down your jeans to calm your nerves. “We should go. Don’t wanna be late.” you try to change the subject, grabbing his hand to pull him down the hall. As many times as he’s complimented you in the past few weeks, it still makes your stomach flip and your face to get hot, not being used to all the attention.

“Hey, hold on. I’ve got something for you.” he tells you, a smirk growing on his face as he catches onto your nerves. He pulls you back by the hand, putting his hands on your waist and turning you to face him. You put your hands on his chest to steady yourself as he spins you around, a short laugh escaping your throat as you look up at him.

He holds his jersey up close to your face with one hand, his smirk growing as you reach your hand out to grab it.

“Uh uh. I wanna put it on you myself.” he teases, fingers nudging the underside of your arms, urging you to raise them.

You oblige, shaking your head with a smile, eyes focused on him as he lowers it over your head. He slides it over your body, biting his lip as he takes in the sight. It’s slightly oversized on you, as it has to be quite large to fit over him and all of his gear. It comes down to rest just below the edge of your short shorts, making it look like you’re not wearing pants, which causes you to giggle softly as you look down at the jersey on your body.

You reach down, grabbing one side of the jersey and tucking it into the waistband of your shorts, letting it hang diagonally across you so people can at least see you are wearing shorts underneath his jersey.

“Good?” you ask softly, looking back up at him, but you don’t even need to wait for his words to know that it is. His eyes darken as he stares at you wearing his clothes, and a sense of possessiveness rumbles through him. He has to resist the urge to push you back into your apartment and take you right on your kitchen counter.

“Yeah, baby, you’re good.” he rasps, taking your hand and kissing it softly before pulling you down the hall, pulling you close and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Once you’re both in the jeep, he makes the short drive over to the stadium; you could’ve walked, but he didn’t want to have to carry his bag the whole way.

His hand finds its way to your thigh almost instantly, his eyes sparking as he glances at you in his passenger seat. You notice how his eyes keep making their way over to you, taking in the sight of your perfect, thick thighs covering the seat, and his jersey clinging to your body.

“What?” you ask after a minute or two, laughing softly as he meets your gaze, shrugging.

“You just look so good in my passenger seat, princess.” he purrs, taking his hand off your thigh for a moment to grab your hand and raise it to his lips. You bite your lip as you look back out the window, noticing the sea of people in red and yellow shirts making their way down the sidewalk to the stadium.

“Are you ready? Excited? Nervous?” you ask after a moment, feeling nerves bubbling in your stomach for him, knowing how many people will be watching today.

“I’m not nervous. You’re gonna be sitting in the front row watching me. It’ll only make me work harder.” he says with a wink as he pulls into a parking spot and puts the jeep in park.

“You’re gonna be great. And I know nothing about football, so even if you aren’t, I won’t be able to tell.” you tell him as you turn in your seat to face him, a small, and slightly embarrassed smile on your face.

“So, you mean to tell me that you agreed to come to my game, and you don’t even know how many points a touchdown is?” He laughs at your words, shaking his head. It makes his heart swell a little; thinking of you being here just because he wants you to.

“Seven?” you say as more of a question than an answer, embarrassment filling your stomach. “If not, then I know less about football than I thought.” you finish with a small laugh, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Close, princess. It’s six.” he says in a gentle tone, a smile glued to his face. You’re so cute, he thinks, he can’t wait to see you in the stands.

“But what about the kick, or whatever? That makes seven, right?” you argue softly, raising a brow.

“Yes, but that’s an extra point. That’s not how much the actual touchdown is worth.” You roll your eyes at his words, laughing softly.

“Alright, whatever.” you get out before his lips are on yours, his hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

“I appreciate the effort, though. But just because you don’t know anything about football doesn’t mean you don’t have to cheer for me.” he tells you sternly once he pulls back, but you can see the glint in his eye as you nod.

“I’ll just cheer when everyone else does.” you joke, although you’re dead serious. You hope that the game will be easy enough to follow along with, but your plan if it’s not is to wait until everyone else starts to cheer.

“Deal.” he murmurs, leaning in to meet your lips again.

“Okay, lets go. You still need to get ready.” you tell him as you push him away, not letting his lips meet yours. He groans, but then agrees and gets out of the jeep.

He grabs your hands once his bag is over his shoulder, smiling to himself as he feels you wrap your other arm around his bicep.

As he leads you into the stadium, he notices a guy’s eyes on you, and he feels jealousy flare up inside of him. He squeezes your hand instinctively, which causes you to look up at him, completely unaware of the situation.

“Are you okay? Are you sure you’re not nervous?” you ask softly, stepping closer as the crowd gets more and more dense. He nods stiffly, his jaw clenched. Maybe this isn’t as good of an idea as he thought.

“I’m fine, princess. I don’t get nervous,” he tells you, his eyes still ahead of him. “Especially not with my good luck charm beside me.” he mentions after a moment in a softer voice. He finally looks down at you, feeling his jealousy slipping away as he sees your big wide eyes looking up at him.

You hum softly, face growing hot at his words as you look down at the ground, trusting him to lead you through the crowd.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket with the hand that’s not holding yours, groaning as he realizes that he should’ve been in the locker room a few minutes ago. He stops and turns to you, which makes you look up to meet his eyes.

“Okay, I have to go. Can you find your way to your seat by yourself?” he asks, ducking down slightly to better match your height. You nod, biting your lip.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be sitting right behind the bench, waiting to cheer for you when you score a touchdown, which is worth six points.” you tease, rising onto your toes to meet his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. He happily leans down to meet you halfway, on hand on your hip and the other on your jaw.

“You’re gonna kill it.” you tell him once you both pull away, letting your arms drop from around his neck as you take a step back. He smiles at you, smacking your ass softly as you turn to walk to your seat, eyes glued to the way it jiggles from his touch.

You squeal softly in surprise, then whirl around quickly to look at him. He chuckles, putting his hands up in surrender.

“I can feel my good luck charm working already.” he says with a wink, and you fight back a smile as you shake your head. You turn again, walking to your seat, a smile finally breaking onto your face once you’re turned away from him.

He makes his way to the locker room and gets ready, apologizing quickly as his coach yells at him for being late. He starts feeling his adrenaline growing until it’s time for the teams to come onto the field. He revels in the feeling of so many people cheering for his team, so it takes a few seconds for him to find you in the large stadium, exactly where you said you’d be.

You grin widely as you see him running onto the field, standing in your seat on the aisle and cheering with the rest of the crowd. As he runs over to the bench, his grin widens and he gives you a wink, which isn’t lost on some of his teammates. They look at each other with raised brows, but they can’t tell who he’s looking at in the sea of red and yellow.

The game starts quickly, and you have to admit, you have no idea what’s going on. Your eyes move between the ball and Evan, and you think he’s doing really well, as he keeps blocking and tackling the other team. The first quarter seems to be pretty uneventful, however, as it’s still 0-0 when it ends.

He jogs over to the bench with his team, taking a drink of water. His eyes find yours again and you beam at him before blowing him a kiss. You can’t help it; you think seeing him playing football is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His smile widens as he pretends to catch it, trying to angle his body so his teammates don’t see his actions, but his smile drops as he hears his teammates laughing behind him. He turns to them, shoving the teammate closest to him, mumbling a small “shut up” before his head turns back in your direction.

You feel bad as you notice his teammates teasing him, and when he turns back to you, you mouth a quick “sorry.” He shakes his head, however, mouthing back “it’s okay” as he gives you another wink.

“Head in the game, loverboy.” he hears behind him, along with a few of his teammates laughing.

He turns back to his friend Owen, mumbling a rough “whatever, man” as he fights back a smile. Despite his clenched jaw and stern expression at their teasing, he can’t help feeling a little giddy as he keeps the image of you in his jersey in his mind.

The second quarter starts, and things start to pick up, and you’re starting to figure out a little bit more about what’s going on. Both teams have scored some touchdowns, but Evan’s team is still up by a few points, which you’re thankful for. You can’t imagine the pressure he and the rest of the team have on them, despite how unphased Evan seemed to be earlier.

You keep your word, cheering when the rest of the crowd cheers, feeling a sense of pride that you have his name on your back whenever he does something for his team. You’re amazed at what he can do, how he tackles and blocks the other team, how he throws and catches the ball. You could never do any of that, you think, you can’t get over how strong he must be do to all of this.

The whistle blows to signal halftime, and you watch as Evan and the rest of the team jog to the locker room. As you wait for the game to continue, you pull out your phone, feeling a little awkward as everyone around you is talking to other people they came with. You decide to text Evan quickly.

You: You’re doing great. You’re gonna kill it in the second half<3

He grabs his phone from his locker as he hears it chime, a smile making its way onto his face as he reads your message. As he’s about to type out a reply, Owen sees the way he stopped responding to him, and turns to face him with a smirk.

“That your girlfriend?” A few of the guys look over as Owen speaks with surprised expressions, not quite used to the idea of Evan having a girl come to any of their games. They’ve seen him with girls at parties before, but he was never serious enough about them for much else.

In an instant, one of the other guys, Luca, grabs Evan’s phone from his hand, another one, Cam, coming in just as quick to block Evan from getting the phone back.

“Look at this, he got a good luck text from his girl.” Luca teases, holding the phone out for a few of the other guys to see. Evan groans, still trying to get around Cam to get his phone back. He can feel himself getting angry, although he knows deep down there’s no reason to be. It feels like they’re stealing you away from him, as if you’re the phone.

“You got a crush, man?” another teammate asks, chuckling softly and patting him on the back.

You watch your text switch from delivered to read, and you’re happy that he’s seen it, but you can’t help but frown when he doesn’t respond. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through you, and feeling a little worked up from seeing Evan playing, you send him another text, hoping to encourage him further.

Luca puts a hand to his mouth as another text comes in, laughing loudly as he looks up at Evan with wide eyes.

“Damn, man. Now I know why you chose her.” he teases, tilting the phone as a few players look over his shoulder at the text. Evan still struggles around Cam, his face getting red in frustration and jealousy. What did you say, he thinks?

“Got yourself a punt bunny, Buckley?” another chimes in right as Evan finally grabs his phone back, looking down at the text quickly.

You: If you win, I’ll give you a reward later.

He can’t help but smirk at his phone, the chatter from his teammates fading into the background as he rereads your words. He’s a little surprised at them, but he can’t help the way his dick twitches at the idea. He starts to think about the many ways you could reward him when his coach starts speaking loudly, going over the game plan one more time before the game resumes.

He types a quick response before shoving his phone back in his locker, listening intently to the coaches words.

Evan: I’ll keep that in mind, princess.

The third quarter starts a minute or two after you get a response from Evan, butterflies filling your stomach as your brain finally catches up with what you texted him. You bite your lip as nerves fill your stomach, but they’re pushed aside as soon as you see Evan in his gear, a wave of desire flowing through you again.

Everything is going well until there’s only three minutes left in the quarter. You watch as a player comes out of nowhere, tackling Evan to the ground. He stays down for a few moments after the other player gets off of him, groaning in pain.

You shoot up from your seat, raising a hand to your mouth as your breath catches in your throat. Dread fills every inch of your body as you watch him lay still, fighting the urge to run onto the field and make sure he’s okay yourself. Why isn’t anyone checking on him, you think as you watch intently, barely blinking as you study his form.

Finally, he sits up slowly, shaking his head before he gets up. You let out a shaky breath, feeling your shoulders drop as he slowly stands up and signals he’s good to keep playing. You bite your nail anxiously as you keep your eyes on him, not even focusing on the ball until the quarter is over.

He makes his way to the bench, his body aching a little, but nothing he’s not used to. He takes his helmet off and looks up at you, immediately noticing your unease. He gives you a thumbs up and a wide smile, hoping to calm your nerves, and it works slightly. You stop biting your nail and give him a small smile, but you want this game to be over immediately so you can make sure he’s okay.

You see that they’re now down by a point, and you wait anxiously for the last quarter to start, barely paying attention to anything as your eyes go unfocused and your eyes move across the stadium.

Evan’s heart swells at your nervousness. Although he doesn’t want you to worry, he can’t help the warm feeling in his chest because he knows you’re worried about him.

The fourth quarter is almost over, and Evan would be lying if he said his head is completely in the game. He’s still playing as hard as he can, but he can’t help his mind wander to you in his jersey, and the text you sent. He knows that this game is important, but all he sees when he glances at the scoreboard is how many minutes until he can get you back to his place.

The game ends, and the entire stadium erupts in chaos, and you can’t help but shoot up from your seat, jumping up and down with the rest of the crowd with a huge smile. They won.

You watch the team celebrate with each other on the field, and you can feel the excitement coming off of them. You know it’s Evan’s last year on the team, as you’re both graduating at the end of the year, and you’re so happy that his last homecoming game is ending with a win.

You watch as the teams make their way off the fields, and you wait a few minutes for the stands to clear out slightly before making your way towards the locker rooms, standing where you and Evan parted ways earlier.

He’s quick to change once he gets to the locker room, not even bothering to shower before he throws all his things in his bag. He celebrates with his teammates for a few minutes, but as they start to get ready to shower, he’s leaving the locker room faster than he ever has.

You lean against the wall as you anxiously wait to see Evan exiting the locker room, and you can’t help the squeal you let out when you finally see him, a large grin erupting on your face. You practically run over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, overwhelmed by the happiness you feel. He drops his bag and wraps his arms around your waist quickly, a soft noise escaping his throat as you run into him.

“Hi, princess.” he says at the same time as you say “you did so good.” You both laugh softly before he responds in your ear, not wanting to let you go.

“Of course, I did. I had my good luck charm with me.” You laugh softly, pulling back just enough to meet his lips in a searing kiss. But, almost immediately after you kiss him, you pull back, a worried expression taking over your face.

“Are you okay? You took a pretty hard hit.” you ask softly, your hands moving to his cheeks, searching his eyes for any sign of pain. He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he feels his cheeks flush slightly.

“I’m fine, princess. Don’t worry about me.” he whispers before leaning in again, pulling you as close to him as he can with his hands on your waist. He pulls back after a moment, not wanting to get caught by the rest of the team;

he knows he’d never hear the end of it.

He picks up his bag and wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the jeep. You look up at him beside you, noticing the gleam of sweat on his face, and the way his hair sticks to his neck.

“Are we going right to the party? Or are you gonna shower first?” you ask teasingly, giving him a cheeky smile as he looks down at you with a scoff.

“I’m gonna stop by my place and shower quick, princess, don’t worry.” he tells you, giving you a wink as he pulls you closer. You gag jokingly, pushing him away from you, mumbling a “good” as you finally get to the jeep.

“You’re welcome to join me if you want.” he says once you’re both in the jeep, looking over at you with a raised brow. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you meet his gaze, fighting back a smile as you shake your head.

“I don’t get that, it makes no sense. Showers are supposed to be relaxing. If there are two people, one person is standing in the water and the other person is cold.” you tell him seriously, although the more you think of it, the more you like the idea of showering with him. He chuckles at your response, rolling his eyes as he begins to drive the short distance back to his place.

“Well, yeah, if the other person is selfish. You wouldn’t be selfish in the shower, though, would you?” he teases, grabbing your thigh tightly, his thumb gently running across your inner thigh in a drastic contrast.

“I guess you’ll never know.” you tell him teasingly, smirking as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, but I’d like to.” he murmurs as you look out the window, which makes you laugh softly, shaking your head again.

As you make your way to his house, you can’t help the grin plastered to your face. Evan has the windows down, blasting his music, and you can hear the giddy chatter of passing students as they walk down the sidewalk. His hand stays on your hand the entire time, and as you take in all the joy in the air, you feel the excitement bubbling up inside you for the night to come.

next chapter

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[harrywavycurly]

What about Harry getting all flustered in the Lonely series? He’s always saving and reassuring us but what’s a time when he’d need us to relax him?🥺❤️

Hiii lovey!!! I agree he does seem to be really good at reassuring you so it’ll be nice to see you calming him down in a moment of panic for him, so I hope this is what you’re looking for!💖

-find all things Lonely here✨

CW: Language

A/N: Harry just wants to enjoy a lunch date with you before your Miami trip but things don’t go the way he wants, enjoy some protective Harry with a healthy dash of you being sweet and fluffy with him✨

“He’s so much prettier in person.”

“God I know.”

“What do you think he smells like?”

You just smile to yourself as you walk past the group of girls on your way to take a seat at your usual table that’s tucked away in the corner near the window of the cafe down the street of your old house. You slip off your sunglasses and place them in your purse before hanging it on the edge of your chair, you take a quick glance over to the counter area to check on Harry to see if he needs your assistance and you can’t help but let out a soft sigh when you see him because even after all these years he still somehow manages to give you butterflies whenever you spot him across a crowded room.

He’s standing against the wall with one hand tucked into the front pocket of his well fitting jeans and the other holding his phone, trying to be out of the way of people picking up their orders but also trying his best to not be that noticeable but the black short sleeve button up he opted to wear this morning isn’t helping due to it allowing his most recognizable tattoos to be on display. Along with the fact that he just has one of those faces that even with his sunglasses on people could point out in a crowded room especially when he smiles like he is at you right now, making his signature dimples appear. You return the smile and even shoot him a playful wink before you look away and turn your attention towards your wedding binder your wedding planner gave you that has all the little details in it for your big day, you flip it to the page that is all about your bachelorette trip so you can go over the checklist one more time.

“Oh my god.” You look up when you hear a sudden gasp coming from next to you and when you’re met with a pair of wide eyes you just give the girl a warm smile and sit up a bit so you can give her your full attention. “I know you.” She blurts and you know she regrets saying it the moment the words come out of her mouth based on how pink her cheeks get.

“Hi there.” You watch her try to gather her thoughts so you just reach your hand out and gently place your hand on her arm. “I love your shirt.” You tell her as you look at her Love On Tour shirt that looks like she tye dyed herself before you remove your hand from her arm trying to help her relax a bit and when she smiles at you before looking down at her shirt you know it seems to have worked a bit.

“Oh thank you uh-are you uhm here with Harry?” You just smile and nod as your eyes flicker behind her to the man himself who you know is watching the scene that’s happening at the table intensely. “Congrats on the uhm-uh engagement.” Her voice is shaky as she starts to mess with the bracelets on her wrists and you just give her another smile and reach both hands out to grab hers.

“Thank you that’s so sweet of you.” You give her hands a little squeeze before letting them go. “What’s your name?” You ask as you quickly look behind her to see Harry’s status and you feel a bit anxious when you see him at the counter grabbing your order meaning he was going to be heading this way any minute.

“Stephanie.” She answers with a nervous smile and you just nod.

“Well Stephanie I can tell Harry you said hello if you’d like?” You ask and then your eyes catch a glimpse of someone walking up behind her and you look at them with a raised brow and they just nod making you grin as you look back at Stephanie. “Or Stephanie you can tell him yourself?” You watch her face go from one of confusion to pure shock as Harry’s tattooed arm comes into her view when he reaches over to hand you your iced coffee.

“Hello Stephanie.” His voice saying her name makes her cheeks go a deep shade of pink as she slowly turns around and faces him as he slides his sunglasses up into his hair so he can look down at her. “S’lovely to meet you.” He says with a smile as you quickly reach for the bag that has both of your sandwiches in it and his iced latte so his hands are free to give her a hug.

“You’re Harry Styles.” She mumbles into his chest when his arms wrap around her and he just chuckles in response, you take your seat and just watch the two of them as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Oh love the shirt.” He says when he pulls away from the hug.

“She-she said that too.” Stephanie stutters as she looks at you just as you take a bite of your sandwich making Harry laugh as you place a hand over your mouth and just try your best to smile and nod.

“Hungry sweetheart? Can’t even wait for me? That’s a bit rude innit?” He teases and Stephanie just giggles making Harry smile because he always loves when someone laughs at his jokes even when they are just silly teasing ones like this. “Well it was a pleasure meeting you love, have a good rest of your day okay?” With that Harry gives her one more quick hug before she says a quick thank you and she’s off rushing over to her friends.

“She was cute.” You say after you swallow your bite of sandwich as Harry takes his seat across from you. “What?” You ask when you hear Harry let out a sigh but he just shakes his head as he takes his sunglasses off and tucks them into his shirt before he reaches over to grab one of your hands.

“Nothing baby.” You tilt your head and give him a questioning look as he brings your hand up to his lips. “I love you.” Is all he says before you feel him place a few kisses to your knuckles.

“I love you too.” He just smiles as he lets you take your hand out of his so you can grab his sandwich out of the bag and hand it to him.

Harry normally doesn’t mind meeting fans, he loves them and he knows it takes a lot to actually come up to him and say hello so he never tries to make anyone feel uncomfortable but there are times when he would like to be left alone. Those times are often when he’s out with other people, like his family, friends or for instance right now when he’s just trying to have lunch with you, his fiancé before you leave him for a whole week for your bachelorette trip in Miami. He knows that talking to Stephanie is going to make others feel more comfortable coming up to him to say hello and honestly he’d prefer that over what he sees happening over your shoulder. For Harry it’s the recordings and all the random photos that get snapped of you he doesn’t like, he never has enjoyed the idea that people just have videos and pictures of you on their phones all because you know him or now because you’re engaged to him.

“Harry?” You reaching over and grabbing his hand breaks him out of his thoughts causing him to slightly shake his head before he looks across the table at you, you’re looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a slight frown on your face. Harry gives your hand a firm squeeze but the smile he gives you to try to make you think he’s fine just makes you glare at him in response because you can read him like a book by now, you know something is bothering him and it’s been bothering him since he sat down across from you twenty minutes ago.

“Sorry sweetheart what did you say?” He asks as he glances down at the table and sees the checklist for your trip and he has to rub his lips together to hide the frown that was threatening to take over his face when he catches the time of your flight tomorrow morning.

You let out a huff and slide your hand out of his so you can close your binder and slide it off to the side, you fold your arms on top of the table and stare at Harry and he does good for a solid ten seconds and then he slips up, you catch his eyes glance over your shoulder in the same direction Stephanie walked off in. You quickly act as if you’re looking in your purse that’s hanging on your chair so you can try to see what’s caught his attention, you catch the same group of girls you walked by earlier sitting at their table all with their eyes glued to their phones that all seem to be pointed in your direction.

“Is that what’s bothering you?” You ask with a raised brow when you turn your attention back to him and away from the table of girls.

“I just wanted this to be a nice lunch and-”

“Are you saying it hasn’t been nice?” Harry playfully glares at you in response to your teasing question making you smile as you reach over and hold your hand out for him. “It’s just a few teenage girls Harry it’s not a big deal.” And as if on queue you catch something in your peripheral vision out the window making you turn your head to see what’s going on outside and the moment you do you’re met with a young girl waving at you who is standing next to a man holding a professional camera aimed towards Harry.

“It never stays just a few fans it always turns into more.” Is all Harry says when you look away from the window and back to him as he reaches down and grabs the hand that you were holding out for him. “If we leave now we can still probably walk to that little shop down the street that sells those god awful sour candies you love so we can get you some for your trip.” You know he’s going over all the exit strategies in his head as he talks, as you watch his eyes glance from your face to the window and then to the table of fans behind you.

“They aren’t god awful you just have horrible-”

“We need to go.” The tone of Harry’s voice is what tells you to just nod and let go of his hand so you can start to grab your things, it’s not one he uses with you often because it’s deep but laced with a hint of almost anger that you know is not directed at you. “Now. Please love.” He tries to be softer this time when he notices you taking a little too long to get your stuff and he even gives you a smile as he stands up and leans over to grab your wedding planning binder for you, tucking it under his arm while you throw your purse over your shoulder before standing up. You glance out the window and see a few more cameras aimed at the two of you and now a small group of fans has gathered around the entrance of the cafe as well.

“Hey look at me.” You reach for his hand and interlock your fingers with his and give it a nice firm squeeze as he locks eyes with you. “I’m right here and I’m fine.” You reassure him with a smile and while normally you aren’t the biggest fan of kissing in public at this moment in time you know what Harry needs to help calm him down so you don’t hesitate to reach your free hand up place it on his cheek as you lean in and give his lips a quick peck.

“Thank you.” He mumbles before he steals a second kiss before you can fully pull away from him making you giggle as you drop your hand from his face. “Remember the rules sweetheart?” You roll your eyes as you grab your sunglasses out of your bag and slide them back on your face.

“Don’t talk to them..just keep walking and don’t touch them and they won’t touch you…just like at a haunted house.”

“Perfect it’s like you’ve done this before or something.”

“Only once or twice but one time I did tell a photographer to fu-”

“Yeah let’s not have any repeats of Vegas okay?”

“Fine but I’m warning you now if they call my ring ugly I’m going to say something.” Harry just laughs and shakes his head as he looks down at you while you finish off your iced coffee before tossing it in the trash.

“Ready baby?” You just nod and feel him give your hand one last squeeze before he lets it go, he quickly puts on his sunglasses and leads you to the entrance of the cafe giving the table of fans a smile as he walks by earning a few gasps and one loud squeal making you just smile because you get it, he is indeed squeal and gasp worthy. Harry hands you the wedding binder so that once you’re outside he will be able to pull you close to his side with one arm and keep the other free just in case someone tries to get too close for his liking.

“Bet you five bucks they ask the reunion at the wedding question.” You joke trying your best to lighten the mood while you can because you know the moment he pushes open the cafe door Harry is going to switch over into the protective side of himself that you’ve seen quite a bit of ever since the first time you got caught in a swarm of cameras and fans with him years ago.

“Damn you always have to beat me don’t you? I was just about to say that” You just shrug making him chuckle as he gives you one last once over as if he’s making sure you have everything and you’re actually ready to go.

“Snooze you lose Styles now let’s go get me some candy.” Harry nods as he leans down and places a quick kiss to your cheek making you smile as you tighten your hold on the binder in your hands as Harry gently pushes open the cafe door, him walking out first with you right behind him. He is quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side allowing him to put distance between you and the group of men with cameras and the few fans that have gathered outside.

“Harry! How’s the wedding planning going?”

“Is it true Niall’s the best man?”

“Can we see the ring?”

“Who’s on the guest list? Will we get a One Direction reunion for the wedding?”

You try not to laugh as you feel Harry’s grip on you tighten the moment the question gets hurled at the two of you as you make your way down the sidewalk towards the little shop. Harry on the other hand keeps a tight lipped smile on his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the people surrounding the two of you, but luckily no one seems to be getting too close or shouting rude things. That all changes in what feels like a matter of seconds when you feel a hand on your back giving you a slight pat but before you can even turn your head to see who it is that needs your attention Harry is sliding his arm from your shoulders down to your waist and you feel his hand gently give your hip a little nudge and in one smooth motion you’re standing directly in front of him.

“Watch the hell out.” You internally flinch at the harshness of Harry’s voice as you feel his hand on your hip give you a firm squeeze, his way of letting you know he’s got you. He has his chest practically flush with your back while his head is turned to look at the man who thought it was okay to tap you on the back, and if you turned your head to look at Harry you’d see his nostrils a bit flared along with slightly flushed cheeks letting you know he’s angry. “Bloody prick.” He snaps at the man who is just a mere foot away from the two of you with his camera in his hand.

“Harry come on-”

“What makes you think you can just touch her?” There’s no kindness in his voice and he really doesn’t mean to cut you off but Harry just can’t let this go, not when the man hasn’t even tried to say sorry or really anything at all. You can practically feel the anger radiating off of him when you feel his hand leave your hip so he can fully turn around to face the man. “Better yet what makes you think it’s okay to fucking touch her and not even say sorry?” You look around and see a few phones out, no doubt recording the whole situation so you quickly turn around and place your hand on Harry’s back making him turn his head to look at you.

“It’s okay it was an accident and won’t happen again.” You explain as you look from Harry to the man standing in front of him and you know based on the wide eyed expression on the man’s face you’re lucky to just get a nod in response, looking to be in a state of shock. “So let’s just all maybe take a few steps back please.” You suggest as you look around and watch as almost everyone around the two of you take some small steps backwards giving you and Harry a bit of breathing room.

“That’s not good enough.” You’re thankful that your sunglasses block your eye roll from Harry because you know he wouldn’t appreciate your sass right now but you know that the man standing in front of the two of you is in no way in the right mental state to say much of anything right now. “He needs to say sorry.” He adds as he finally looks down at you and you take this moment to place a hand on his cheek.

“Baby.” Harry lets out a sigh and leans into your touch as the petname leaves your lips and it’s as if all the anger and frustration he was feeling just seconds beforehand is slowly but surely fading away as you run your thumb over his cheek. Now normally you save calling him anything other than Harry for special occasions but sometimes you have to bring out the big guns to get him to focus on what you’re about to say.

“Please let’s just go.” Harry just nods and it’s as if he forgets the two of you are standing on a sidewalk outside of one of your favorite cafes as he turns his head so his lips land on the inside of your palm before he brings one of his hands up and wraps it around your wrist.

“Okay sweetheart.” He leans down and places a kiss to your forehead before he brings your hand down from his face and turns around so he can lead you further down the street towards the shop you wanted to get your candy from. “I’ll call for the car while you shop for your sweets does that sound good love?” You just smile as he brings your hand up to his lips giving the top of it a little peck.

“Fine but don’t think I forgot you owe me five bucks.” Harry just laughs as he drops your hand so he can once again wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side.

You look around and feel relief wash over you when it seems most of the crowd has stayed near the cafe and only a few photographers have followed the two of you but at a much more bearable distance. You know for the rest of the day Harry isn’t going to let you get more than an arms length away from him and that’s if he’s being generous, he was already feeling clingy due to the fact he’s about to be away from you for a week but this is just going to make him take it up a notch. So you aren’t at all shocked when you feel him rest his chin on your shoulder as one of his arms wrap around your waist from behind while you pick out the candy you want for your flight, your wedding binder securely tucked under his other arm so your hands are free. It also doesn’t come as a surprise when you feel his hands practically pull you into his lap the moment the car door closes and the two of you are headed home, his face buried in the crook of your neck while his arms wrap around your middle holding onto you as if he’s worried you might slip away if he loosens his grip.

“It’s okay.” You whisper softly as you run a hand through his hair while moving just a bit so you can get into a more comfortable position, with your legs straddling his thighs. “I’m okay.” You reassure him before placing a kiss to the side of his head, you hear him let out a deep sigh as he tries to pull you even closer to him making your chest flush with his and you know in this moment he just needs to feel as close to you as he can so you allow him to squish you a bit.

“Do you remember when we first got photographed together?” You ask as you continue to run your hand through his hair, you take him giving your middle a small squeeze as your queue to continue. “I don’t remember what we were doing exactly I just remember you were holding my backpack and of course I’ll never forget what they called me it was-”

“Unnamed college girl.” You laugh as Harry finishes your sentence for you as he sits up making your hand fall to the back of his neck. “I picked you up from class because I was on a break from tour and I’m a proper gentleman so I carried your backpack but you were wearing a jumper with your university’s name on it and I wanted to hold your hand but you were being mean and told me no because it would start dating rumors.” You watch him give you the fakest pout he can muster as he looks down at you making you playfully roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m always just so mean to you aren’t I?” Harry nods but you see him struggling to keep up his fake pout as you lean in and place a kiss to his cheek.

“Leaving me for a whole week is the meanest thing you’ve ever done.” You want to laugh but you hold it in as you lean over and give his other cheek a kiss. “You’re gonna be spending all this time with Niall while I’m just sat at home missing you.” He adds with a bit more of a whine to his voice.

“We’ve gone longer without seeing each other Harry.” You remind him but he just rolls his eyes at you making you quirk a brow at him. “What? It’s true we’ve gone months-”

“That was before I realized I was in love with you and now I can’t-no I won’t ever go months without seeing you ever again that just can’t happen I won’t-”

“Hey.” Your voice is soft and just a little above a whisper as you bring your hands up to cup his face, you can feel his heart beating faster while his hold on you tightens and his eyes are staring into yours with an intensity that lets you know he’s on the verge on a small panic attack. “I’m right here.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks as you feel him let out a few deep breaths trying to calm himself down.

“I hate this.” He closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours. “I already miss you and you haven’t even left yet.” He feels silly for saying it but he knows you’ll understand, you always do.

The thing you’ve learned about Harry over the years is that when he loves someone he doesn’t know how to not give all of himself to them. People sometimes say he comes off a little too strongly but you know it’s because for so long he never knew where he was going to be in a day or a week so he just now has a habit of telling people how he feels the moment he feels it so he doesn’t run the risk of never having the moment to say it again, and for some that can just come off as a bit much. But not to you, you live for those moments even back when the love he had for you was strictly platonic it was still nice to hear how much he cared for you but now when he stops what he’s doing to just stare at you and tells you he loves you it makes your heart feel like it’s on fire in the best way.

“One time I cried in the bathroom of my apartment because you were leaving in two days.” You admit making Harry open his eyes and lean back so he can look at you with your hands still on his face. “I just knew it was going to suck because you were headed off to Live On Tour and you were just so busy and I didn’t know when I was going to be able to squeeze myself into your schedule so I full on panic cried in the bathroom while you were still sitting in my living room eating my leftover pizza.” Harry can’t help but give you a look and you know that when he opens his mouth he is going to try to apologize for all the times he’s ever had to leave you during the last ten years so you just shake your head and give him a smile. “I think that just means we must really like each other or something.” You joke as you lean in and place a kiss to his lips making him smile when you pull away.

“I love you.” You smile before he leans in for another kiss while your hands go from his face down to the back of his head pulling him closer to you.

“I love you too.” You respond as you finally pull away making Harry let out a sigh of content as you feel the car come to a stop. Harry turns to look out the window and smiles when he sees the front gate opening up leading up to the driveway of the house the two of you share. “I still can’t believe we are gate people.” Harry laughs as he loosens his hold on you so you can reach over and grab your purse making sure to put both his and your sunglasses inside since they got tossed to the seat next to you the moment the two of you got into the car.

“Baby we have to be gate people or else anyone could just be in front of our house.”

“As if they don’t just stand outside the gate?”

“The gate is a safety measure sweetheart.” You just let out a huff as you slide off Harry’s lap and into the seat next to him, Harry just chuckles at your dramatics because he knows the real reason you make a fuss about the gate is because you always forget your gate opener so you have to enter the code which you also always forget resulting in Harry either coming out and opening it for you or him texting you the code if he’s not home. “Speaking of safety measures who’s on security in Miami?” Harry asks as the passenger door opens and he slides out and holds his hand out for you to take so he can help you out of the car.

“Niall.” Harry rolls his eyes as you hand him the binder instead of giving him your hand as you climb out of the car.

“Niall? No love I mean who is your security while you’re there?” You stop walking and place a hand on your hip as Harry makes his way up the front steps towards the front door. “Baby? Did you-why are..you looking at me like that?” He’s at the top of the steps looking at you, binder in one hand and the bag from the candy shop along with the house key in his other.

“Harry we’ve been over this already.” You watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion making you glare at him from the bottom step. “I’m taking Preston and Niall has the rest handled with his team.” You watch it all hit him that he has in fact heard this information before as you finally join him at the top of the steps.

“You think Preston is enough?” He asks as he unlocks the front door allowing you to enter first, you shoot him a look as you slide your shoes off and head for the stairs.

“Of course he’s enough. He’s Preston.” You answer as you drop your purse onto the couch before heading up the stairs. “But I am so telling him you asked me that.” You threaten making Harry’s eyes go a bit wide as he drops his keys on the table by the front door, you just laugh to yourself when you look over your shoulder and see him staring at you from the bottom of the stairs.

“Always so mean to me.”

[kagetxiga]

hellooo!! tbh I'd love to see anything with lloyd (first confession, smt like that)? tysm ^^

Hey hey hey!! It’s been a while since i’ve written some ninjago, quite excited ngl 🫣 anyways, enjoy!! 🌷🧸💕

“You’re bright like the city lights”

A LLOYD X READER TROPE

At first, Lloyd was oblivious to his feelings

He just thought you and him were closer than the others

Especially when this guy was practically forced to age up, he hasn’t even properly grown

He was super confused about his feelings, he would always want to be with you, but for some reason his stomach would feel funny (it’s butterflies)

But let me tell you, when he realized, he was STILL oblivious.

But forcefully

Like, the others would probably make the dots connect with each other

“Hey, Lloyd?” Kai spoke up

“How come you never confessed to Y/N yet?”

Lloyd hearing this, spat out his drink so fast

“But I don’t even like them!” He retorted back

The silence in the room was SO LOUD.

“Uh huh…” Kai said while nodding uncertainly

“I just think they’re pretty, and nice, and caring, and they have such a beautiful smile— OH MY GOD I DO LIKE THEM.”

And this guy would avoid you like the plague, trying his hardest to ignore his feelings

BECAUSE NOW THAT HE REALIZES, HIS FEELINGS WOULD JUST GET WORSE

Just give it time, he’ll eventually succumb into his feelings and he’ll give it what it wants (its you)

I feel like the way he would confess would be in a mission

A fake mission

“Y/N we need help! We got trapped” or something bullish like that

And when you do arrive

It’s a dark room, you turn on the light and all you see is Lloyd standing there with his hair done, a bouquet of roses, and a tuxedo standing so awkwardly while Kai secretly lights up candles in the back, Cole hiding in the ceiling along with Zane, dropping rose petals from their hiding spot

It was overall so cute

But he wouldn’t just ask you to be his S/O right then and there

He’ll probably ask to court you or take you on a date

He wants to have somewhat of small chemistry before you guys actually put a label

(Or maybe because he’s scared and he’s never done this)

You’re little dates would be so cute and adorable whether its staying inside or going out

He does whatever you want, as long as you’re happy

FIRST DATE WAS HELLISH THO

He had severely overdressed

(You guys were going on a picnic)

And this guy had slick back hair, tuxedo pants, and a white button up

ITS A PICNIC NOT A RESTAURANT

But he did it under pressure, this guy didn’t know how to dress properly, especially for his first date with YOU

“Am i wearing too much?”

“Jeans are weird, would they like them?”

“What if they noticed it’s ironed?!”

“Yknow what ill wear sweatpants”

“BUT THATS SO SLOPPY AND DISGUSTING”

Like said, under pressure

But either way you guys enjoy each other’s company

And when he’s finally ready to label it, i think he’d randomly blurt out the three specific words

It was midnight, you guys were stargazing, but obviously he wasn’t looking at the stars, he was looking at you

The way the moonlight gently hit your face, the stars sparkling your eyes, how his hand is intertwined with yours, he would randomly blurt it “i love you”

Then boom yall are dating, with your first kiss initiated

Thank you! ^^

-K.T

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Better Man

Summary:Jason fucks up one to many times, luckily there is Eddie who is happy to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Older Eddie x Reader. (reader is in her 20's, Eddie is thirty eight) age gap, 18 + Minors shoo! Kinda mean Eddie, then Soft Eddie. Modern fic.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Jason was such a loser. He had been caught flirting with a few girls at the Halloween party they had attended together and you had left him.

Finally.

It had been weeks of making up, breaking up and just a plain, toxic vibe. You deserved better and wanted out.

You went to the one person who you knew would understand. Who could make it better. Who pleasured you, fulfilled you in ways that Jason could never ever do

Eddie.

He opens the door to his trailer and your stomach flips, filling with butterflies at the sight of him.

Fuck, he was so sexy.

His hair is in a messy bun, he's shirtless, wearing slacks and there's a smirk on his face.

"Hey pretty girl" his brown eyes rake over your body and you shiver in excitement.

"Hi" you're breathless with anticipation, knowing what the night entails. Knowing its Eddie you really want and not Jason dickhead Carver.

"The dickhead mess up again?" you nod and feel shy under his scrutinizing gaze. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and cocks his eyebrow.

"We're done"

"The boy can't satisfy you so you coming running to me again princess?" he tsks and you pause, unsure if he wants you here.

Maybe he has another woman over? You weren't exclusive or anything. Even though you had fallen quickly for Eddie, the two of you only started as a casual hook up.

Eddie's uncle was friends with your family, that's how you got to know Eddie. His reputation proceeded him, he was hot as fuck, had women wrapped around his finger and he knew it.

One look in his big doe brown eyes and you found it hard not to melt, you resisted. Just barely.

The thought of someone with him made your stomach ache, your heart clench.

"Do you want me to go? If you have someone with you, I don't want to interrupt" his features soften and he chuckles.

"I see that look in your eyes sweetheart, you jealous of all that shit?" you look away, shrugging and he tugs the waistband of your jeans so your close to him.

"I like when you're jealous sweet girl, gets me all fucking hot" he kisses you before you can respond and leads you to his bedroom.

❤️

Eddie has your arms pinned above your head, there's a mean, mocking smile on his face.

"So Carver couldn't satisfy you princess and you come to me" he teases as he thrusts inside you hard.

"Eddie, please, need you" You moan and he begins to move, slowly.

"You just love when my cock is buried in you huh? Such a greedy, greedy girl" he mocks as he drags his thrusts out until your a mewling mess underneath him.

He wants you to beg, you refuse to give in but the ache you feel is growing stronger.

"Eddie" you whine and he moves a little faster this time.

"Uh, uh princess. You're being so rude. I didn't hear please" he coos and you huff, desperate for release and begin to grind yourself against him, gritting out "please" as you do so.

His eyes fill with lust and he moves faster, hips snapping against yours as you both move together.

"You feel so fucking good sweetheart, tight. Mine"

The sensations going through your body is delicious and by the time you reach your climax, you're screaming into Eddie's shoulder, legs shaking from how intense the orgasm was.

Eddie soon follows, spilling into you. His hand gripping yours and an awed look on his face, he slowly pulls out and lays beside you.

You lay together for a moment before he speaks, his fingers caressing your hair.

"There's no one else princess, not for a while. Only you" it answers your question and at the same time your heart is racing as you think of the implications on what he said.

He presses a kiss to your lips and takes his sweet ass time, kissing every inch of your body as he makes his way down to the apex of your thighs.

Before you can ask about what he said your phone lights up with a call. Ugh. Jason.

Eddie's eyes darken and he glares at the phone.

"Answer it" he tells you and continues teasing near your clit. You pout.

"Do I have to? I think I gave the asshole the message earlier. I wish he'd leave me alone"

Wasn't dumping your drink on him and giving his cocky, condescending face a slap enough of a message? It certainly was a cathartic moment for you.

You answer the phone and immediately Jason is yelling and belittling you, Eddie stills when he hears Jason yelling at you.

"Will you fuck off Jason. I told you we're done for good" You snap at him losing patience.

"Tell him to talk nicer to you or I'll knock his teeth down his throat" Eddie growls and the protectiveness in his tone makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Who's that? You bitch!" Jason yells and Eddie gestures for the phone, which you give to him curious at what he will say.

"Listen here dickhead. She's not interested, Infact, I'm currently between her thighs and making her scream, which is more than a limp dick fuck like you ever could"

Jason goes silent. You can almost picture that agog expression on his face.

"Eddie Munson. She's fucking you?" he squeals and Eddie smiles.

"Let's get this straight here Carver, she is my girl. I don't like to share, fuck off and stop bothering her or I will be very pissed off and have to tell you in person. Wouldn't want you to shit your pants or anything. We clear?"

Jason gulps. "Crystal" Jason hangs up and you dissolve into giggles and sit up, leaning over to kiss Eddie.

"That was kinda hot. Also I'm your girl?" you say teasing him but full of hope and he kisses you, leaving you a little breathless.

"I want to be with you sweetheart. You've gone and stolen my heart. I adore you and I'll treat you better than that Carver idiot ever could"

Thrilled you kiss him, nodding happily and his arms wrap around yours as you cuddle into him and he kisses your forehead.