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babybluebex · 2 months

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needs and wants | eric aqpdo x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in the direct aftermath of the apocalypse, you meet a man who's worse for wear in just about every regard. even though you can't do too much to heal his injuries, it's possible that you can heal his heart. wc 10.6k (she's a doozy) 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: eric (a quiet place: day one, 2024) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: SPOILERS FOR AQPDO, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT THE FILM SPOILED!, mentions of death/general apocalypse things, panic attacks, mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions (if you know eric's backstory that ended up cut from the film, he talks ab it), far too much intimacy for what this is, smut (minors dni): p in v, tit sucking, condom use 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: umm... i have no excuse for this... other than i need eric on a carnal level lol. hope you enjoy!!

It was funny how your whole world could change in a single day. And it was supposed to be a good day too; you had racked up enough PTO to allow yourself a full day off of work, and you had plans. You were going to brunch with your girlies that you hadn’t seen since nursing school, you were going to rent a movie at home, watch rom-coms in your underwear— you looked forward to sleeping in, taking a bubble bath, going to sleep early. You only achieved one part of that: you hadn’t even received the mimosa pitcher you had ordered when you heard the noise outside, as loud as a rocket taking off on the street just outside the hip brunch place, and you had hardly turned to look out the window when your world fell apart.

Silence became your norm. Fear overtook you at every turn, giving your hands a perpetual shake that you weren’t certain would ever wear off. You didn’t know too much psychological or neurological stuff— you were a trauma nurse, emergency room and ICU type stuff, you were more concerned with stopping the blood flow and stabilizing vitals than ever caring about the after-effects of shit— but you wondered if the shaking of your hands was forever part of you now. You were good under pressure, never scared, but whatever the fuck those creatures were out there had changed the makeup of your being in a single second.

When the helicopters buzzed overhead, drawing the monsters toward them and away from the city, and they announced that boats were departing from a nearby dock, you knew you had to go. More than saving yourself, you knew some very hurt and very sick people would gather there. You were sure that FEMA people would be swarming the boats to take care of the sick and injured, but you didn’t know what else to do. Your brain went on a sort-of autopilot, and you did the only thing you could think to do: you followed the crowd out to the docks.

You had never gone that long without talking. Your throat was so dry from debris and dust anyway that you weren’t even sure that you could talk. Your clothes were torn, various small injuries that weren’t anything some disinfectant and a Band-Aid couldn’t fix, along with a gash on your calf that you had determined would be fine for now but could definitely use some tending-to once on the boat, plus your shaky hands, but otherwise you were fine. When the windows shattered and the monsters invaded, your table had overturned from the force of the sonic blast, and your animal instincts kicked in, throwing yourself behind the table and barricading there. You were one of the lucky ones— you lived. Sure, glass cut up your knees and palms, and you couldn’t even breathe without worrying that your breaths would alert the monsters, but you had lived. That was more than some could say.

You felt packed out like sardines on the boat. Standing room only, except for the few exceptions of the people who were hurt or passed out. You had meager belongings in your pockets, although you weren’t sure how helpful your dead cell phone or essentially-useless credit cards would be in a time like this, but at least you had your work badge in your purse when you went to brunch. You found someone who looked like they were in charge, dressed in all-grey, not a military uniform but not civilian clothes either, and you silently showed them your badge, declaring yourself as a trauma nurse at a hospital in Brooklyn, and you gestured around, trying to ask if there was anything you could do to help. The woman shook her head, but folded her hands in a sort of ‘thank-you’ gesture.

You managed to stand towards the back of the ship, against the railing, next to the ladder, and you flinched at the loud chug of the boat casting off from the dock. Surely the monsters heard that. Everybody around you seemed to hold a deep breath, anticipatory, awaiting the worst to come at your final moments of salvation, but thankfully the monsters weren’t concerned with you all— maybe you were too far out in the water and, if the announcements from the helicopters were to be believed, the monsters couldn’t swim, so they didn’t care too much about the boat. Or maybe, the sudden sound of glass shattering from the shore, followed by shrill car alarms, captured their attention better.

You watched, horrified, as you spotted a woman racing down the street, hardly noticeable from the distance, but the sun glinted off of a silver metal pipe in her hand as she raised it in the air, and she smashed the window of the car next to her as she raced away.

“Hell’s she doing…?” The man next to you mumbled, and you instinctively put your hand on his shoulder to silence him, even though there was no need. The world had changed in a day, habits had formed in 24 hours, and you wondered how long it would take to shake the new habits. You watched the woman flit between cars, trying to outpace the monsters as she smashed windows, but then something else caught your attention. On the dock, there was a man. Wearing a yellow sweater, carrying something that you couldn’t identify, running like his life depended on it towards the edge of the dock. And maybe it did; a few straggling monsters had started after him instead of the woman, and he had to have known as well as you did that the water was safe.

Your heart rammed up into your throat as he ran, faster and faster, white sneakers hitting the metal dock, and he looked over his shoulder for a moment at the monster that was meters, feet, away from him, before he righted himself forward and hurtled himself off the edge of the dock. Everyone on the boat was watching now as he flew for a brief moment, suspended in the air as time stood still, and then plummeted into the water below. The monsters skidded to a halt at the edge of the dock, one curled claw extended out, a scrap of yellow cardigan stuck on its talon.

By now, everyone had come to the same conclusion, and started to gather at the ladder onboarding right next to you— the man would need help coming aboard. You all watched anxiously as he surfaced from the water, frantically looking around and gulping air as he tried to keep his head above water and orient himself. Finally, he looked towards the boat, and you could have sworn that he looked at you instead of anybody else. He gained his senses quickly, starting to swim out towards the boat, and you caught sight of the little white whatever-it-was he was holding: a cat. The cat seemed safe and unharmed, definitely soggy but no worse for wear, and you crouched down, extending your arm down the ladder to meet him.

You didn’t have the strength to help pull him aboard, but the man who had spoken next to you gently moved you, and he grasped the wet man’s arm and pulled him up the last few rungs of the ladder. He heaved breaths, his eyes all big and round as he took in his surroundings. Then, if you were unsure whether he was looking at you before or not, he extinguished any doubts you had this time around, because his eyeline landed on you. He was startled, hurt, traumatized— those wet eyes had seen some things, worse than you had seen.

You helped him move away from the ladder and back towards a more secluded part of the boat, and the FEMA woman you had “talked” to before came to your side, a first aid kit in one hand and a heavy wool blanket in the other.

“Sir?” you croaked. Jesus Christ, speaking really was a challenge. You cleared your throat, hoping that would improve things, and you said, “Sir, are you hurt?”

He shook his head quickly, clutching the cat in his arms, and you spotted the gash on his shin. The leg of his pants was torn and shredded, and you could bet that the wound was pretty fresh. “You can speak,” you told him gently. “We’re safe here.”

He looked at you, tears streaming down his face, and in a hushed voice, said, “How can you be so sure?”

They said the boat ride would last through the day and you would arrive by nightfall, but FEMA assured you that the destination would be worth it. A little island, they said, off the northern coast of the state, that used to house a summer camp but was abandoned however long ago. The buildings there, houses, old camp cabins, would take some sprucing up, they told you, but it was safe, and it could turn into home. As night fell, factions were made, and people divided as best as possible— the vulnerable ones, the hurt ones, the kids, went to the inside part of the boat, and the healthy stayed outside, huddled under the wool blankets and trying to forget the cold November ocean air berating their faces.

The yellow-cardiganed man was moved inside, and you moved through the small crowd in there, doing what you could to help. Passing out crackers and water bottles, winding gauze around bloody injuries, squeezing hands and offering small words of encouragement. It wasn’t a lot, but it felt good to help.

Eventually, you couldn’t ignore your fatigue anymore, and you sat down on the floor against the back wall with a sigh. It was a low din inside there, so you felt relatively safe making a little bit of noise, and you sniffled and zipped open the inside pocket of your coat. The stuff you had stashed from your purse was in there, and you frowned down at your brick of a cell phone, the screen shattered. You cast it aside, then pulled out your wallet, rifling through it to see what went missing. Thankfully, your license was still there, so if anybody needed identification at any point, you had that covered; an old fast food gift card that you were sure still had money on it but was useless now; and an old paper movie ticket that you had saved with the intention of putting it in a scrapbook. Your heart panged with hurt, and you checked every other section of your wallet, but it was empty.

Your house keys were certainly back on the floor of the restaurant, and you thought about the key to your mother’s house that lived on the ring. You hadn’t been able to contact her since the monsters came— the last thing you said to her was a text the morning of brunch, telling her to have a good day, and she had sent the classic mom :-) emoticon to you. Was she still alive? Had she managed to escape the monsters? Even though she didn’t live in the city, you wondered how far the monsters had traveled. Her neighbors were a family, with a high-school age son who played basketball and mowed your mother’s lawn; for your sanity, you chose to believe that they had taken her in (along with her prized African violets).

A little noise came from in front of you, someone clearing their throat, and you looked up through your welling tears to see him. Damp yellow cardigan, wool blanket loose around his shoulders, curls wet and flat to his forehead. He stood still, watching you for a moment, before he spoke, a little louder than the first time but still a whisper. “Never caught your name,” he said. An accent. Not a native New Yorker.

You told him with a shrug. Your eyes canvassed his frame, watching him shiver a little in what was probably an adrenaline rush, and your eyes landed on that nasty cut on his shin. It wasn’t actively bleeding, but still very red. It looked maybe a little inflamed, a tiny bit swollen, and you started to reach out for it, but stopped yourself. Your hands were filthy and, if infection was already setting in the way you suspected it was, whatever germs you had probably weren’t good for the wound. You withdrew your hand and settled in your lap, and you cleared your throat. “One of the FEMA people can help with that,” you told him, nodding towards his leg. “Bandages and anti-inflammatories and shit.”

“Aren’t you a nurse?” the man asked, now his turn to nod at you. You had clipped your badge to the collar of your coat and, even though the plastic flower that had once surrounded the metal clip was shattered and long gone, the clip still served its purpose.

“I am,” you said. “But I don’t have bandages.” You cracked a loose smile, and you winced at the bottle of water and pile of crackers next to you on the floor. “I’ve got crackers and water.”

“I’m starving,” he told you, returning the small smile. “May I?”

You nodded, and he worked himself down to the floor (he seemed to be favoring his left ankle a little, the same leg with the gash). He settled back against the wall, sighing heavily, and he took a pack of crackers into his hands and read the label for a moment. “‘Peanut butter’,” he read. “D’ya like these?”

“They’re alright,” you said. “I used to buy the same ones, shove ‘em in my work bag to eat between patients. Kinda bland and gross, but they get the job done.”

He nodded, and he tore the corner of the plastic sleeve and extracted a peanut butter cracker. “I used to like the ones with, erm, cream cheese and chives,” he said. “A quick snack at work. S’never what I wanted to eat, but sometimes I’d be at the office ‘til late, and at that point, take what you can get, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “What did you do?”

“Lawyer,” he said, popping one of the crackers into his mouth.

“Oh, shit,” you chuckled. “Yeah, you had some long nights… My sister’s husband is a paralegal, he used to tell me all about it.”

“Cool,” he told you. “And you, Miss Nurse?”

“And me what?” you asked.

“What’s your husband do?” he asked.

You laughed. You couldn’t help it. “I’d have to have one of those for him to have a job,” you said. “No, being a nurse is very, like… If you’re not married by the time you leave nursing school, all hope is lost. You won’t ever have any free time to go on dates or even think about that sorta stuff.”

“Same with law school,” he told you. “All my mates were engaged or married when we graduated, and everyone always told me, ‘Oh, Eric, you’ll find the right girl! She’s out there somewhere’, and it’s like… If she’s not in my office building or on the subway home at 2AM, I’m not meeting her.”

“You went to school around here?” you asked, and he (you assumed his name was Eric, based on his anecdote) nodded, then shrugged.

“Cornell,” he said. “Then got hired at a firm in the city, and just… Never left.”

“Well, that’s cool,” you said lightly. “I’m assuming you’re not from around here?”

He shook his head. “Kent,” he said. “About an hour out from London.”

“Wow,” you said softly. “That change must’ve been… A lot.”

Eric shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “It was alright, I suppose. At that time, I was sorta fighting with my dad all the time, really wanting to leave and go somewhere but he didn’t want that…” He trailed off, letting the conclusion form by itself. “Haven’t seen ‘em in-person since then. I always said I was busy, or it was too expensive, or… I was supposed to go back home at Christmas… My sister had a baby and I was supposed to meet him then…” He trailed off, obviously at a loss for what else to say, and you sighed.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” you told him, even though you yourself doubted it. “I mean, maybe the monsters are only here. They don’t like water; if they came from here, they can’t get over there.”

Eric nodded slowly. His eyes scanned the room, looking and listening, and he reached his hand out in front of him, making a small noise with his tongue against his teeth. You followed his gaze and found his cat, all furry with white and black spots, being adored and pet by a little boy sitting on a cot close by, and Eric tutted at the cat again. The cat turned their big dark eyes to their owner, and dutifully trotted over, snuggling in-between Eric’s criss-cross-applesauce legs.

“Who’s this?” you asked.

“Frodo,” Eric said, stroking the cat between his ears. Frodo began to purr, his eyes closing blissfully, and Eric said, “He was my friend’s, but she… She told me to take care of him.”

Your mind brought back the image of the woman running, distracting the monsters away from Eric. “Was that the one who…?” you started, and Eric nodded.

“He was her service animal,” he said. “She had cancer, he sort-of alerted her whenever her pain medication was going out… Also kept her company in hospice. He’s quiet, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, none of us have to worry about that,” you said, and Eric took in a breath. “Not anymore. Not with the island.”

“Right,” Eric sighed. “Almost forgot.”

“I’m worried I’ll never go back to normal,” you admitted. “Even just two days of thinking like this… Trauma’s so fucking weird.”

Eric nodded in agreement. You caught him staring at your hands, shaking and shivering as they laid in your lap, and he started to unwind the blanket from around himself to settle over you, but you shook your head. “M’not cold,” you told him. “Just… Nervous. Y’know?”

Eric watched you for a moment, making sure that you weren’t bullshitting him (you were a little; your coat was wet through, and you definitely could do with a dry coat, but you would live), and he said, “I think you need to pet my cat.”

“Do I?” you asked with a chuckle.

“You sure do,” Eric nodded. “He doesn’t bite or scratch— he might nibble your fingers a little, but only ‘cause he’s curious.”

You reached out for Frodo, letting him sniff your hand a little before he shoved his solid little head under your fingers, squinting his eyes as you started to scratch behind his ears. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, and you said, “He’s very sweet.”

“He’s smart too,” Eric said. “He can do maths. Look’it: Frodo, what’s one minus one?”

Frodo, of course, responded in silence, and Eric smiled, cocking his head. “I think that’s impressive,” he said, and you huffed out a laugh.

“Silly,” you mumbled under your breath, moving to scratch Frodo on his chin. “When’s the last time he’s eaten? I can try to find something for him.”

“Last night,” Eric said, his smile faltering. “Sam might’ve given him something earlier this morning, but I didn’t wake up until later.”

That’s how you greeted the island, petting Frodo and sharing light stories about your past lives. Nothing too heavy or sad or emotional, even though it felt like any story about your past life held an air of sadness and mourning. You could try to go back to normal, but normal was long gone. As everyone departed the boat under the dusky stars, there was a large team of FEMA workers to greet you with big, heavy bags and send you to an empty cabin for the night. You and Eric (and Frodo) stuck together, and you received your bags and moved down to a cabin. To your surprise, the lights worked, as did a small space heater in the corner, but you can tell it had been running for some time, because the inside was already warm. Several beds were set up and made with thin, government-issued bedsheets, but it was far better than nothing.

You went about unpacking the bag as Eric moved to the small bathroom and shut the door. There was a change of clothes, sweatshirt and pants and underwear and socks, basic toiletries like a toothbrush and shampoo and a small bar of soap, two bottles of water, a plastic packaged MRE (you had Menu 3, “chicken, egg noodles, and vegetables in sauce”), and some things like Band-Aids and small packages of Advil like what you kept stocked in the ER, along with a sanitary napkin, and, the piece de resistance (courtesy of the American government, you’re very welcome), a condom. You frowned at the last thing and slid it into your toiletries bag underneath the bar of soap to hide it; to be frank, sex was the last thing you wanted or needed. Your brain was still in survival mode, and you didn’t even feel like you could settle down enough to sleep, let alone to fuck. Could anybody here?

You heard the shower squeak on in the bathroom, and the pipes creaked as water rushed through. You stripped off your clothes, exchanging them for the warmer and drier and less dirty option, and you sniffled as your fingers began to warm up, becoming less stiff but considerably more sweaty. The bed creaked under you as you sat down, the springs screaming at you, and you rubbed the paper-thin blanket between your fingers. It reminded you of the quality of the hospital, where you might as well be using copy paper instead of fabric. If you had known that your last night in your bed, with your memory foam pillow and weighted blanket, would truly be your last, you would have savored the experience far more. Would you even be warm enough under those blankets?

You couldn’t ponder it any longer, because Frodo suddenly caught a bee in his bonnet, and he skittered from atop the second bed, where Eric had settled his things before he went to the shower. He careened to the closed bathroom door, and he got up on his hind legs, pawing at the door handle. Wordlessly, he craned his tiny head to look at you, and he made the first cat noise you heard him make, a sort of “mrrow” chirping groan. As you got up and went to grab him (“Eric’s just taking a shower, Fro, he’ll be right back”), Frodo turned back to the door and began to bat at the handle, like he was attempting to turn it.

And then you remembered. Frodo was a service cat. He had been trained to alert for certain things, and Eric had mentioned rising pain levels, but what else could Frodo alert for? Suddenly, your heart jumped into your throat, and you knocked on the door. “Eric? You okay?” you asked, but you received no answer. “Eric? Hey, man, Frodo’s freaking out, are you alright in there?”

It was hard to hear too much over the sound of the running shower, but you heard the unmistakable shaking breath of a gasping sob, and, maybe against your better judgement, you turned the door handle. The door wasn’t locked, and the hinges squeaked as you opened the door. Eric had shed his blanket and cardigan and loosened his tie, but he was backed into the far corner of the bathroom, staring at the porcelain bathtub with eyes as big as dinner plates. The faucet was running, the tub filling up, but Eric was frozen. Quickly, you turned the tap and shut off the water, and you gave him his space as you asked “What’s wrong? Can you tell me what happened?”

Eric shook his head, his mouth contorting into an ugly sob, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears leaked out, and he just kept shaking his head over and over. “No, no,” he mumbled. “No!”

“Hey, easy,” you told him gently. “What’s going on? How can I help?”

“Th-The water,” Eric gasped. “I—I—” His knees gave out, and he slumped against the wall with a sob. He began to claw at his shirt, at the topmost button; even though it was undone, he still seemed to want it looser.

You rushed to his aid, pushing his hands aside and starting at his shirt buttons. His eyes were still shut tight, but you needed to see his pupils— if he was in shock, or if something else was happening, the dilation of his pupils could help tell you. “Eric,” you said softly. “Open your eyes, please. Please? I need to see your eyes.”

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and you saw his pupils so big and dark, they almost overtook the brown of his iris. His face was pale, his chest heaving as you undid his buttons, and you pressed your fingers to the side of his neck to check his pulse. Fast, hard, heavy. You had been by his side all night, he hadn’t taken any medication that he could be having a reaction to, and he had been eating the same crackers and water that you had. There weren’t many other conclusions to come to— a panic attack. But at what?

Eric sank down to the floor, sobbing and shaking, and you followed him, putting a gentle but controlling grip on his wrists. You didn’t think he would, but you needed to control him if he started to get violent. “Eric, take a breath,” you told him. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay? Everything is alright.”

Eric sucked in a breath and doubled over on himself, and you kept your hands on his wrists as you shifted away— if he got sick, you didn’t want it on your clothes. Although, you were sure you could get different ones somehow. But he didn’t get sick, he just kept crying. You felt awful and tasted bitter in your mouth. Typically, at this point, you would be paging the mental health wing to come by and evaluate him, and you’d move on to the next person waiting in the ER. You didn’t know how to talk someone down from a panic attack. You didn’t even know how to do that for yourself, let alone for Eric.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay, it’s okay. What happened? Did something happen?”

Eric’s eyes glazed over you and settled behind your shoulder, and you looked back to see the bathtub. It was hardly half-full, but everything clicked into place. “The water,” you said. “You’re afraid of the water. Is that it?”

Eric sniffled and nodded weakly, and you blinked away tears. “That’s okay,” you whispered. “That’s totally okay. I mean, you had to jump into the water to get away from the monsters, I don’t blame you for being afraid—”

“I was down in the subway,” Eric blurted out. “When the monsters came. I was there, and I couldn’t stop thinking, I just kept thinking, and I… I didn’t have the guts to do it. I wanted to do it, I wanted to! But I was too scared that it would hurt. Was scared I’d looked too fucked up and they wouldn’t be able to tell who I was, and my-my mum, thinking about my mum being told, it would kill her, and I was just thinking… And the water came rushing in. Filled everything up, there was no air… I had to swim, and I can’t swim, I never learned really, but I was swimming and I just thought ‘I don’t actually want to die’. But I started feeling spotty, all lightheaded and fairy, and I think I was starting to drown, but I saw the light and came up…”

You were at a loss for words. If you were understanding him, he had been trying to kill himself before the monsters. It sounded like he was moments away from stepping in front of a train. His saving grace was the flood in the tunnels. You had trouble swallowing as your throat went thick, and you lowered your eyes for a minute before you loosened your grip on his wrists. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be alright. Do you want to take a shower instead?”

Eric shook his head. “Doesn’t work,” he mumbled. “Only the tub does.”

You sighed heavily. “Do you want me to stay?” you asked. “Or I can wait outside the door?”

Eric seemed edging into a catatonic state, just shivering and blinking, and you frowned. You finished your abandoned job of undoing his shirt buttons, and you loosened his tie until it came off completely, and you gently pushed off his stained and ragged buttoned shirt. His undershirt wasn’t in much better shape, the underarms and neck stained with sweat, and you started to take it off, but paused. “Is this okay?” you asked. He didn’t react to your question, just staring at your neck, and you carefully angled his head up to look you in the face. “Eric. Is it okay if I undress you and put you in the bath? I’ll be right here the whole time, I won’t leave you alone.”

Eric weakly nodded, shifting his arms a little to better help you pull his undershirt over his head, and his hands went down to his pants to finish the job. You quickly considered what the next steps were as Eric fished his belt from his pants loops, and you pushed the sleeves of your sweatshirt up to your elbows to free up your hands. Eric, now only in his boxers, gave you a pathetic look, and you took him by the hand and helped him to his feet. You figured that he had forgone removing his boxers for a reason, so you didn’t push it, and you held him stable as he lifted a shaking foot over the edge of the bathtub. He was silent, but you watched tears run down his cheeks as he settled both feet in the water, his grip on your hand so tight that it almost hurt.

Slowly, he sat down in the tub, and the water splashed your hand. It was warm but not hot enough to hurt, and you sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching Eric as he sniffled. He certainly was dirty after two days in an apocalyptic city, and you were sure that you weren’t any better off, and you started to get up to retrieve the toiletry bag that he had brought in with him, settled by the sink, but his tight grip only became more vice-like as you tried to depart. “Don’t—” he choked out, and you shushed him gently.

“I’m not leaving,” you told him. “Just getting the shampoo and stuff, just by the sink.”

“Can you get in?” Eric asked softly, almost at a whisper. “When you come back?”

“I-In?” you repeated. “Like, in the bath?”

Eric nodded. He was watching you with his big, intense eyes, and a shiver ran down your back.

“Okay,” you told him. “Umm… I don’t know if I can. I don’t have any other clothes, and I can’t get these wet.”

“Please?” Eric whimpered. “Need… Just need help.”

Maybe it was because you felt bad for him, or maybe you were feeling something that you didn’t want to consider yet, but regardless of the reason, you nodded. You got up from the floor and retrieved the bag from the sink counter, and you came back to the tub. The sides of the tub were curved, not allowing for you to settle the stuff on the edge, and you quickly handed the shampoo and soap to him. He held them gingerly, and he averted his eyes down to the water as you put the bag down and started to pull off the sweatshirt. “Eric,” you said softly. “You can look. You’re gonna see everything in the next few minutes anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

Slowly, Eric raised his eyes up, but he still didn’t look staright at you. At least now it wasn’t obvious that he was avoiding looking at you like before, where it felt like he would be burned alive if he looked. You carefully pulled the sweatshirt over your head and set it by your feet, then you pulled down the sweatpants and stepped out of them. Your heart was beating quickly as you lowered yourself into the bathtub, sitting with your back to Eric, and he nudged his legs a little wider to allow you to sit comfortably. The water felt good on your aching muscles, especially your back, and you sighed lightly. You sat for a moment, trying to drum up enough courage to turn to him and start to help, but he beat you to it.

Eric’s hands were warm, his palm a little rough, as he touched your shoulder, sliding his hand down a little to reach your back. His fingers played with the ends of your hair, and he lowered his hand back to the water. He cupped his palm and let water flow in, then he brought it up to you and wet your hair. Was this his definition of help? To help himself, he had to help others? It made sense, but it still took you a little by surprise. You don’t think anybody had ever washed your hair for you, not since you were a kid. But this was different, in just about every way possible. It was intimate in a way that made your breath catch in your throat, and you swallowed thickly as Eric lifted a hand and tilted your head back to lightly pour water over the front of your hair. He was careful in his work, making sure not to get it on your face or in your ears, and you listened to his breathing even out as he diligently did his task.

The shampoo was some cheap, basic crap, didn’t smell like anything and was only good for getting the oil out of your hair, but the way that Eric worked it into your hair made it seem like it was made by the gods. You felt relaxed, the first time in a long time, and your eyes slipped close as his fingertips worked into your scalp. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that good, especially by someone else’s hands— maybe years, it was hard to say. You knew that, no matter how good it felt, you couldn’t sink too hard into the feeling of it. Eric just needed to help you, and this was his help; nothing more, nothing less.

He gently poured water from his palms over your hair, rinsing it out as best as possible, and you felt that hot streak shoot up your nose. You wanted to cry. You hadn’t cried in… You had no idea. It certainly had been a long time, and you frowned and gulped as you held down the tears. Unluckily for you (or maybe luckily; it was nice to know Eric was so attentive), he noticed your catched breathing, and his hands gently settled on your shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Are you?” you answered, almost a knee-jerk reaction. Don’t worry about yourself, worry about your patient, your friend, anybody else. You came last in your mind, everybody else was more important than you.

“That’s not what I asked you,” Eric said firmly. “Are you okay?”

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that nothing was wrong. He didn’t need to worry about you, you were tough, you could handle yourself. You watched as water filtered through your own fingers, pooling in your palm but escaping out of every little break and crevice possible, and you pursed your lips as you slowly rubbed your face, trying to wash away to grime and dirt. You shook your head lightly, trying to come up with any words to express yourself, and you wiped off your cheeks as you sniffled. “I don’t know.” You couldn’t come up with any better explanation; you just didn’t know if you were okay or not. Your hands slid down your face and flattened up against your neck, and you sighed. “Are you okay?” you tried again.

“I’ll be okay,” Eric told you. His hands smoothed down your shoulders to your arms, and he squeezed your upper arm for a moment before he went for the soap, starting up a lather between his palms.

“Well, sure, we’ll all be okay eventually,” you replied. “But are you okay right now?”

Eric waited until he was washing your back to answer. His sudsy hands slipped over your skin easily, but he dug his fingertips into your muscles, offering relief. “I’ll be okay,” he repeated. “I don’t know what I am right now, to be honest. Head’s just full of… I don’t know. A whole lot of noise, but not any one thing. It’s all quiet out here, but in there, it’s just…” He sighed, and his hands halted at your sides. He obviously had been on track to move to your front, doing his job on autopilot, and he only thought about what he was doing as he was about to do it.

Silently, you shifted your weight back just a hint, closer to him, trying to tell him that it was alright without saying the words. He quickly caught on to what you were telling him, and his hands slid around your body to your front. To your relief, he avoided where you had expected his hands to go, instead wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging himself to you, setting his chin on your shoulder. “You make it quiet up there,” Eric whispered, barely above a breath, like he was afraid of saying it out loud. “I don’t know how, I don’t know why… But you start talking, and it’s like everything else fades away.”

That was your breaking point. Tears started to fall from your eyes, and you sniffled as your hands reached up to your neck and clutched his wrists, looking for anything tangible to hold on to while you cried. And cried you did, your face contorted as you sobbed, your shoulders shaking and chest heaving, and you squeezed Eric’s wrists. He was quick to move impossibly closer, molding his front to your back, and his arms slipped down to your middle, squeezing you tightly as he buried his face in your neck and began to cry as well. He was much quieter than you, not having nearly as much that he held back and needed to get rid of, but it felt good to have someone commiserate with you.

You weren’t sure who moved first— maybe there wasn’t a first to move, maybe you both moved at the same time— but somehow your foreheads came to touch, and your crying pettered down to a sniffle and watery eyes. Your hand came up to touch his cheek, scruffy with a few days’ old beard trying to grow in, and your thumb stroked his cheekbone. He keened into your touch, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. His big brown eyes, so full of every emotion, hidden just so but easy to see if you knew where to look, locked on yours, and your lips fell open in anticipation of his mouth on yours.

Instantly, though, you shifted away and lightly cleared your throat. This wasn’t the time for that. You didn’t know if there would ever be a time for that again. Quietly, you splashed water on your face, and stood up, carefully getting out of the bathtub and going after the towel that sat on the countertop. You scooped your clothes up off the floor as well, and you escaped from the bathroom without a word. You were sure he was confused, maybe even wounded, but you didn’t care. On some level, you did want that— you wanted to feel wanted, to feel adored, cared about, and Eric was a great guy for that, but you didn’t want just that. You wanted a life, you wanted a partner, you wanted love— not just some trauma-borne fuck that you forgot about as soon as it happened.

You dried your body and slipped into your full outfit, pants and sweatshirt and underwear and socks, and you sat on your bed as you dried your hair. You listened as, inside the bathroom, the water sloshed against the side of the tub while Eric moved around, and you watched as Frodo calmly stalked the perimeter of the room, seeming to check every nook and cranny. You put your damp towel to the side and tutted out at the cat, and Frodo looked up at you for a moment before he scampered over to you, hopping up onto the bed and settling himself in your lap. “You’re a good boy, Fro,” you whispered, stroking his back. “Such a good boy.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Eric’s voice floated to you, and you turned to him. He was now all clean as well, his hair soggy and his face free of grime, wearing the sweatpants and sweatshirt. His hair was pushed away from his face, and you could see, even in the dim light, freckles dotting his forehead.

You sighed. “No,” you replied. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Did you not want me to…?” Eric began.

“No, no, it’s not that,” you told him quickly. “Not that at all, I did want you to, I just… I don’t know if I can do all that.”

“All what?” Eric asked. “What did you think was going to happen if I kissed you?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “I don’t know, I assumed more would come of it. And I just don’t know if I’m ready for more. Even before the world came crashing down, I wasn’t ready for more. That’s why I didn’t have anyone; not because I didn’t have time, although that was true. I’m just… Scared.”

Eric quietly moved towards you, bypassing his bed and settling at the extreme edge of yours, as far away as possible while still occupying the same space. Frodo looked at him with thin eyes and he slowly blinked at Eric, and his tail flopped in an indignant half-wag. “Scared of what?” Eric asked.

You sighed. “That I won’t be right for anyone,” you said. “Even back when I was on the market, people always… I don’t know. Wanted more, and for whatever reason, I could never give more to them. I was always so afraid of what would happen when I finally gave all of myself to someone that I never did, and by the time I figured out that someone did want all of me, it was too late and I’d already lost them. I can never win— I’m always never enough or I’m too much. I’m never just right.”

Eric thought on your words for a few moments, and he moved closer to you, just an inch. “Yeah,” he said. “But that was back then. Everything has changed. Everything is different now. You don’t need to be afraid of being what’s right, because what used to be right is just… All sorts of fucked up now. Nobody knows anything anymore. I certainly don’t. But I know what I want, more than I ever have before.”

“And let me guess,” you said. “You want me?”

You hoped that calling him out on his cheesy cliché would have him back down. You liked that he wanted you, and you wanted him too, you wanted him so badly that it hurt, but you didn’t want him to mistake wanting you for wanting a connection with someone.

“I want to be okay again,” Eric told you. “But I need you.”

That was the most magical word of all. Need. It punched a hole in your heart and took your breath away, and you watched him as he watched you, just seeing who would dare to break first. Frodo seemed to know something you didn’t, because he jumped up out of your lap and skittered across the room with an uncharacteristic yowl, and you frowned as he sped away, but your frown was quickly wiped off your face as Eric bridged the gap and kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He held your face as his lips moulded to yours, a perfect fit as you kissed back, and you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. It felt good to kiss someone, to hold someone and be held by someone. You forgot how much you missed the feeling of another person, and you melted into his body as he claimed your hips in his strong hands. His knuckles were scuffed up, but he held you so gently, and you easily fell back onto the bed. He followed you, settling over you like he had done it a thousand times before, but the way his hands slowly slid up the sides of your shirt to touch your bare skin showed you how much it meant to him. Slow and gentle and sweet, he was everything you had wanted from a partner and a lover for as long as you could remember.

But you could tell, even though he was being sweet, how badly he wanted to have you. His kiss was greedy, shifting away from your mouth to kiss your chin and jaw and neck, almost feral with his need for you, but you welcomed it. Strong emotions like that were flattering, especially here and now, and you didn’t waste much time before sliding your hand past the elastic waistband of the sweatpants nestled around his hips. Your palm found his cock instantly, and you held in your gasp of surprise at his size— he definitely had something to be proud of. His skin was warm through the layer of his underwear, and you paused and widened your eyes at him, a quiet question of how far he wanted you to go.

“You don’t have to be quiet anymore,” Eric whispered. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You shivered underneath him at the sweet name he had bestowed on you, and you quietly asked, “Do you want me to…?”

“God, yes,” he moaned. “Haven’t done this in so long…”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as you slipped under his briefs, and your fingers wrapped around his thick length. His skin was hot to the touch, his cock rock-hard, and he moaned softly into your neck at the contact. Whether he meant to or not, his hips rolled forward, pushing himself further into your grip, and he quickly whispered, “M’sorry, fuck—”

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. Your free hand went to cradle his cheek, and you shifted his face so that you could kiss his plush lips again. “It’s hot.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eric asked. “It’s hot how…” He paused to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip with his front teeth, and he continued. “How desperate I am?”

“I am too,” you told him. “I just hide it better.”

Almost as if he was checking if you were lying, his hand skated down from your side and into your pants, letting his fingers mold to your cunt, and he chuckled lightly. “God, you’re wet,” he smiled. “That makes me feel better.”

“Were you worried I wasn’t?” you asked.

“Just a little,” Eric whispered, wrinkling his nose. “But I figured you’d tell me if something wasn’t working for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you told him. You chased him into another kiss, and his tongue invaded your mouth. It had been so long since you had someone make you feel like that, and you whined softly into his mouth. “Eric, please.”

“What do you want?” he asked. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“Anything,” you whimpered. Your legs shifted, coming up to anchor around his waist, and you slowly started to stroke his cock, teasing his soft head, just to see his reaction.

Thankfully, his cheeks went red, and that pretty pink mouth of his opened in a moan, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he mumbled, “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m already too close for you to be doing that.”

“Already?” you asked. You sounded a little more surprised than you meant to, and you quickly added, “That’s really attractive, Eric, I hope you know that.”

“What is?” he chuckled. “That I’ve got a short fuse?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I think it is, anyway. How can I help you?”

“Umm,” Eric said, then swallowed thickly. “Can I… Tits?”

You smiled at him, and you laid a gentle kiss on his lips before he shifted away, letting you pull up your sweatshirt. Your little survival packs hadn’t provided you with a bra of any kind, and you watched Eric’s already-wide eyes flare out at the sight of your chest. He didn’t say a word before he moved down your body and started to kiss everywhere he could reach, taking time and care on your tits. Your hand fell out of his pants at the angle shift, and you settled your fingers to twist in his damp curls as his own hand replaced yours, jerking himself off as he gently licked at your hardening nipple.

“S’that okay?” he whispered, casting his doe eyes up at you, and you nodded quickly. “’Cause if it’s not, I can stop—”

“I promise it’s okay,” you whispered. “I swear.”

Eric smiled. “She swears,” he whispered under his breath, and you giggled. “She swears she likes when I suck her tits. Aren’t I a lucky guy?”

You could hardly ignore the hot pressure between your legs, and you snaked your hand in-between your bodies and started to push down your sweatpants, but Eric noticed what you were up to, and he tugged his hand out of his own pants to capture the waistband of your sweatpants in his grasp. “Please,” he said. “Allow me.” You could tell that he intended to be funny, but his flushed face and fucked-out pupils made it seem a lot more pathetic than you’re sure he meant to be, but that just made a rush of heat strike your core, and your head fell back in bliss as you felt your hot skin slowly exposed to the air.

When you lifted your head back up to look at him, you watched as he shed his own clothes, finally matching you, and you bit your lip as his heavy cock rose to lay against his tummy. He had the thinnest trail of hair coming from down his belly button, smatterings of hair on his chest, a nicely-groomed bush of hair at the base of his cock; he clearly cared about the way he looked, and you loved that. You wondered if the Eric you knew was anything like the Eric before the monsters came, and you watched as he leaned back and began to gently place kisses down the length of your body. He was soft and gentle with you, although you were nearly certain he wanted to take you then and there, and you wiggled a little under his lips. “Can we…” you started. “Do that later?”

“Do what?” Eric asked.

“The whole ‘sweet and kissy’ thing,” you said. “Not to sound, like, sex-starved or anything, but I am, and I think my heart’s gonna explode if you’re not inside me soon.”

Eric chuckled, obviously not expecting that level of honesty out of you, and he pushed his damp curls off of his forehead. “Whatever you’d like, sweetheart,” he told you. “As long as you promise to let me eat your cunt eventually. I can only go so long seeing you like this and be expected to not put my mouth on you.”

“Sure,” you replied, secretly excited that he was expecting a second time.

Eric swiped a quick kiss on your mouth, and then he furrowed his eyebrows. “Umm…” he began. “I— Do you… Are you on any birth control or anything?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “No,” you sighed. “I was, but all that’s back in my apartment in Brooklyn. Haven’t taken my pill since, like, three nights ago, so I’m basically fucked for the whole month.”

“Fuck,” Eric whispered, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I guess, are you alright with this, then? We can figure something else out—”

“There’s, umm,” you winced. “A condom, in the bag with the shampoo and everything. There’s one in mine, and I bet there’s a second one in yours too.”

“Oh, shit, really?” Eric laughed. “That’s… That’s pretty funny.”

“Apparently, FEMA knows what people do in times of crisis,” you smiled.

“So, what I’m hearing,” Eric started, moving himself off the bed and going to your toiletries bag on the floor. His back turned to you, and you felt your eyes widen in shock at the state of his ass. Jesus Christ, this guy had a great ass, smooth and plump and perfectly rounded; you almost wanted to reach out and bite it. “Is that we can fuck twice, and then we’ll need to figure something else out.”

“Is that so?” you asked, and Eric came back to the bed, deftly tearing open the condom wrapper. You leaned up on your elbows to watch as he got back up on his knees, caging you between his thick thighs, and he made quick work of rolling the condom down his thick length, making a quiet grunt as he got it situated the way he wanted. “What makes you think there’ll be a third time? Or a second, for that matter?”

“Won’t there?” Eric asked. “You seem pretty into it right now. Or least your cunt is; look at how wet she is for me.”

“Well, yeah, now,” you teased him, biting the tip of your tongue, trying to will your thundering heart to go back to normal. “But what if, when everything is said and done, you’re actually a terrible fuck and I don’t want anything else to do with you?”

He laughed deep in his chest, and he took your thighs in his strong hands and opened your legs, smoothly settling himself so he could rub his hard cock against your weeping cunt. You felt blood thrumming under your skin, making every inch of you pulse and surge, and you whined high in your throat when the head of his cock caught at your hole, threatening to slip in with ease. “I doubt that, sweetheart,” he told you. “I’ve been told I’m a fantastic fuck.”

“Are you sure they weren’t trying to keep your ego intact?” you asked, and Eric tilted his head curiously at you.

“Well, they weren’t telling me much of anything,” he said. “Usually, by the end, they’re so fucked-out and brainless that they can hardly string a sentence together.”

Then, without a word of warning, he gripped your hips and slid himself inside of you, and you gasped. It had been so long that you had almost forgotten what sex felt like, but this was something entirely new and different. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock, even through the condom, and he gave a delicious throb as you tightened your thighs around his hips. “Fuck!” you yelped, and a shade of worry passed over his face for just a moment. “I-I’m okay,” you told him quickly. “Just… Fuck, Eric, you’re so big.”

“You flatter me,” he chuckled. Slowly, he began to rock his hips into you, moving shallowly at first, just letting you get used to his size, and his dull fingernails buried into the flesh of your hip. You couldn’t help all the little noises he caused you to make— you could feel every inch of him, burying deep within you, stretching you and filling you like he was made for you, and he leaned down and ghosted against your lips with his. “Feel good?” he whispered, and you nodded quickly.

“Do I?” you asked softly. Your arms went around him, holding him close to you, and you pressed your fingers into his shoulders. He felt like a lifeline, his warm skin keeping you grounded, and you didn’t even care if you sounded pathetic or insecure. He made you feel good and safe, and that’s all that you cared about.

“Fuck, so good,” he grunted out. He was picking up speed, gaining a good rhythm that made you wonder how prolific he had been before his career got in the way, and you listened to the bed squeak under you as he mumbled, “So warm… So wet… You feel like a dream… Remember that short fuse I talked about?”

“Really?” you smiled. “Already?”

“Listen, woman,” Eric started, and you dragged him into a messy kiss. You loved him talking like that, and it made you realize just how close you were as well. He tugged away from the kiss to take a deep breath, and he went in to kiss you again, hungry and wanting you. He was going fast now, pumping in and out of you, leaving pleasure and sparks in his wake, and your legs twitched and tightened as the knot in your belly twisted closer and closer to its end. “I haven’t had sex in years,” Eric continued, finally tearing himself away from your lips. “And my right hand can only do so much after a while. So excuse me for being a little quick to the draw tonight.”

“How many years?” you asked.

Eric sighed. “I dunno,” he said. “At least since I graduated law school, so… Five years, maybe?”

“God,” you chuckled. “That’s… A while.”

“No, wait,” Eric said. “Three years. My birthday a few years ago, my mates took me out to a bar, and I met a girl, I spent the night at her place… And she never answered my texts after that.”

“Ouch,” you hissed. “That must’ve hurt that ego of yours.”

“Not gonna lie, it did,” Eric laughed. “But it’s for the best. I didn’t have time for a girlfriend anyway, I would’ve been an awful boyfriend to her. Or to anyone, not just her… What about you?”

“Umm…” you started. “Sex… Yes, I know what that is. Definitely a thing I’ve had before now.”

“Don’t play with me like that,” Eric started, jokingly wide-eyed and startled, and you laughed.

“About the same, I guess,” you said. “Three-ish years… It was back a few years ago, I was feeling bad about getting older and having a career but no partner, so I… I went on a dating app, found a guy, and we talked for a little bit and hooked up, but I got a bad vibe from him, so I broke it off.”

“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “Did you like him?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “And he wasn’t even that great in bed.”

“So, I’ve got him beat in every category, right?” Eric asked.

You kissed him again, cupping your hand across the back of his neck, and he smoothed his hands up your body lovingly. “You’ve got everyone beat, baby,” you told him.

“I think you’re an angel, actually,” Eric told you, and you shyly shook your head. “No, no, I think so. I don’t care if you don’t agree, that’s what I think.”

“Whatever you say,” you told him. “Can you, umm… Maybe a little faster?”

Eric obliged, pistoning his hips quicker to fuck you to your liking, and his hand floated to your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing at your throbbing little clit. You whined and scratched at his back, tightening your legs and digging your heel into that ass he had, and the electric shocks that ran up your toes and into the rest of your body started to become too good, too much. “Eric!” you gasped. “Eric, fuck!”

“I’ve got you, angel,” Eric whispered in your ear. “I’ve got you. Let me see that pretty face when you cum, yeah? Wanna feel your cunt squeeze me, fuck, I need it.”

You looked down at yourself, watching as his hard cock plunged in and out of your hole, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock, and your whining and whimpering almost had the wet squelch of your bodies together beat. Then, almost against your will, your whole body relaxed, every muscle feeling like it went slack, and you sobbed out your final moan, your head falling back as your nails went hard into his freckled shoulders. You felt your wet cover your inner thighs, and you panted as Eric chased his own end. You didn’t have to wait too long before you heard him choke back a moan, and he spilled himself inside the condom. You felt the warmth of his spend inside you, and he slowly pulled out of you with a hiss at the sensation on his sensitive, softening cock.

He was quick to take care of the condom, and he came back to the bed and settled in the small, empty space beside you. His red chest was heaving, his cheeks flooded with pink color, and he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you close to him. You melted into his warmth, mashing your cheek against his hard chest, and he let out a breathy laugh. “Fuck,” he gasped. “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t eaten real food all day or what, but I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” you giggled. “I think you were just that good.”

“Once again, angel,” Eric whispered, settling a soft kiss on your head. “You flatter me.”

You fell into a comfortable silence then, listening to each other’s breathing even out, and Eric cleared his throat after a while. “Typically, at this point,” he started. “I’d be smoking a cigarette.”

“Oh my God, Eric, no,” you groaned. “Don’t you know how unhealthy that is?”

“Oh, right,” Eric chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Miss Nurse. So concerned for my health.”

“Right,” you told him. “I care about you, and I don’t want you to have breathing complications or worse early in life from smoking.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Eric told you. “I think I need another shower after that, though.”

“You do sorta stink,” you giggled, and Eric rolled his eyes. “If you shower, I can be making food.”

“Food?” Eric asked. “There’s food?”

“Yeah, an MRE,” you told him, and you grunted as you got out of bed, going in search of the plastic-packaged meal. “Chicken and noodles. I didn’t see what yours was.”

“Fuck,” he laughed. “I’ve got a sexy woman making dinner for me? I might keep you around after all.”

“You have to keep me around,” you told him. “Who else is supposed to help you raise your cat?”

Frodo seemed to know his cue, because he revealed himself from behind a bookshelf, batting a bit of cobweb on his nose, and Eric smiled. “I suppose you’re right,” Eric said. “Just don’t feed him too much; he’ll get fat. He’ll also try to attack your hand if you pet his belly, so don’t do that either.”

“Noted,” you told him. “Go shower, handsome, this should be done by then.”

Eric took a moment to wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to your temple, and he softly said, “I wish we could have met any other way. But, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too,” you told him, turning in his arms to give him a real, genuine kiss. “I’m so glad you found me.”

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #eric aqpdo #eric aqpdo x reader #a quiet place: day one #aqpdo #joseph quinn x you #eric aqpdo x you #joe quinn

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lolasky · 6 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ HEY DADDY!

[ ᯓ★ ] meeting their future child with you when you're not even dating yet | fem!reader | fluff, humour (at some point), a teeny tiny bit of angst on usopp's one, foul language (just koro saying an 'ass') ꩜ | wc. 4.7k — approx. 1k each |

not said, but kazuki is 4, koro is 8, nyla is 6 and heaven is 11

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤL U F F Y

he'd be so confused once he saw a little boy just like him. not just in appearance, but with his whole energy. once he learned and accepted the fact that the boy – who was his mini version, the crew couldn't even doubt – was his son, he refused to give him back to his timeline.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the straw hat crew has just docked at an island so they could get some supplies before getting back to sailing.

"okay, so, sanji and i are going to get some food," you tell, waiting for sanji to get out of the kitchen with the list.

"robin and i are going shopping!" nami says excitedly. "are you sure you don't wanna go with us instead with... him...?" she points to the blonde cook, who was lighting up another cigarette.

"i wanna go too!" luffy yells from inside, running to the deck, where the crew were at.

"you. stay." the navigator says through her teeth. "we'll be quick and don't need any trouble. you stay with zoro and watch the ship."

luffy pouted, watching his crew get down from the ship. he looked at zoro, thinking if he could pest him a little, but soon the swordsman brushed him off saying "i'm gonna sleep. if you make any noise or cause some trouble, i'm gonna slice you in three."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

nami and robin were getting out of another store with more bags, chatting about random things when a kid bumped into them and fell.

"oh, i'm sorry, little one..." robin drops her bags and kneels in front of the little boy, offering her hand to help him stand up, but as soon as she sees his lips quivering and his eyes starting to get wet, she worries.

the little boy stretched his arms out to her, asking silently to be picked up and so she did.

"where are your parents, little boy?" nami asks in a soft tone, watching him getting comfortable in robin's arms.

"and what's your name?" the archaeologist drops the second question.

the kid gazed at the woman, lips quivering again and his voice trembling when he asked "you... you don't rwemember my name aunt lobin?"

nami gave her a weird look. she was as confused as robin. watching the little one in her arms closer, he reminded her of someone. the messy black hair, the big round eyes, the pout. why the hell does this kid look so much like luffy? robin seemed to notice the same thing as her.

"okay... so... what about we look for your parents, huh? and you can tell me your name 'cause i love hearing you say it!" the older woman says, eliciting a big smile from the boy. nami coughed immediately.

"can we go to the shwip? i'm sure they are thewe!" he holds the women's hands and pulls them in any direction.

it sure made the navigator and the archaeologist even more confused because how did he know they had a ship? and why would his parents be there?

"so, sweetheart, tell me your name?" robin asks once again.

"oh! i'm kazuki!" he stops abruptly, making nami almost trip and fall. "i'm monkey d. kazuki!" and that's how their jaws went slack.

"YOU'RE WHO?!" they panic.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

as soon as the girls got back to the sunny, they met all of the crewmates, except for sanji and you, who apparently hadn't been back yet.

"who's that kid?" usopp asks confused. mainly because he couldn't pry kazuki off of him and his nose.

"where did this kid come from?" zoro asks. he was starting to get irritated.

"uncle zoro, whewe is dada?" the little version of luffy asks, a bit upset that usopp could get him off of him.

"how would i know, kiddo?" he answers in the same annoyed tone as ever.

"i'm so hungry! when is sanji coming?" luffy whines, showing up at the deck and there they could spot the similarities.

not only their hair, eyes, pout, or even the big grin kazuki offered, but the energy the kid had. he was just like luffy in many ways. he just wasn't that loud like the straw hat captain – thanks to his mother.

once the crew saw them together, all the pieces seemed to connect. one, two, three blinks in disbelief and the boys' jaws fell to the ground.

"oh, hey kid!" luffy greets him friendly.

"dada!" the little boy jumped into the captain's arms who seemed as clueless as ever.

and a wave of yelling could be heard.

a couple of minutes has passed by and luffy and his son seemed to get along well. zoro, chopper, usopp, brook and franky were in the same position, they were still loading the information.

the captain and his little kid were running around the sunny, playing tag. they even tried to call the others but they didn't... seem like playing.

"you know, kazuki is too old to be in this... uhm... timeline..." nami points it out to robin.

"i know. how can luffy have had a son?" she murmurs, watching both run and giggle around the ship.

"robin!" it seems to call the other back to earth. "i'm seriously worried! and we don't even know who his mother is." the navigator looks stressed. one luffy is enough trouble, but a luffy and a mini him?

"we don't even know how he got here in the first place." robin sighs.

"we're back!" you announce as you put some bags on the floor.

"wow! you took more time than us." nami approaches you. "what happened?"

"well... sanji decided to pick up a fight over a fish..." you say casually. "uhm... did we miss something?" you notice the boys, finding it normal – well, for the straw hats, but as soon you spot a kid running around the ship with the manchild your captain is, you get confused. "who's that kid?"

"long story..." nami smiles innocently.

"did you kidnap a kid?"

"what? no! it's not- it isn't-"

"mama!" a childly voice is heard from the depths of the sunny and you can see that kid from before running to you happily.

okay, it's going too far!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"so, this kid, kazuki, is luffy son's with... you?!" usopp tries to connect all the pieces. you hum an "yes" and his brain seems to burn. "too much information, too much information!" he holds his head while falling to the ground dramatically.

"when did you and luffy make a baby?" zoro asks confused as ever.

"don't be stupid mosshead. this kid is clearly from the future." sanji answers, blowing the smoke away.

"thanks, sanji." you smile at him, who looks at you like he's helplessly in love.

you feel a tug in your shirt and look down at your kid. "is something wrong, little one?"

"mama, i wanna sleep..." he rubs his eyes and yawns, blinking slowly while stretching his arms out to you. the whole crew – zoro included – had their hearts melted.

"then let's sleep, huh?" you say softly, picking him up and gently caressing his cheek and hair as he snuggled against you.

luffy runs to you, seeing his child in your arms. "what? don't tell me you're sleepy already, kid!" the captain pouts, watching the baby yawn. "no, let's play more!" he bounces excitedly.

"luffy, he's tired." you hiss, wanting your baby as calm as possible.

"but i wanna play more with my son!" he insists.

"you played enough, don't you think?" you start to make your way inside the sunny with luffy following you, insisting that they should play more. "now he wants to sleep with his mama."

"but-"

"mama, dada, let's sleep, pwease?" hearing the sleepy voice of his child, luffy seems to calm down a little.

"sure baby." you peck his forehead. "but your dada is not joining us 'till he baths." luffy gasps.

"how can you betray the dada of your child like that?" the captain whines, still following you to your quarters.

"yeah, i guess they settled pretty quickly to this life of mama and dada." nami comments, grinning at their recent view.

"i can't believe this idiot became a father before me." usopp complains, murmuring still lying on the floor.

"how do you know that?" chopper asks. "well, maybe all of you are already parents in the future..." that simple sentence was enough to ignite something in zoro, usopp and sanji.

"hey, kazuki! don't sleep right now!" zoro shouts.

"yeah, tell me if your great uncle usopp gave you little friends to play with, huh?" usopp is the first to run, looking for the little family.

"surely i'm the only one qualified enough to even get a spouse!" sanji yells at zoro, punching him to reach the one person who could give him the precious information.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤZ O R O

he'd be as confused as luffy and would deny every word that kid would say. like, only just because a kid has green hair, is almost obsessed with swords, has the guts to insult him and is the sassiest kid he'd ever met, that is his son, huh? he definitely could grow accustomed to the presence of that child and the fact that he made him with you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

another island could be seen by the pirates. it meant they could dock there to stock some items. franky was the one eager. on their way, some pirates tried to fight the straw hats – which obviously couldn't be a good idea. well, the matter is, the sunny had some minor damages and usopp and franky were trying to keep their home alive.

chopper and you didn't need anything. the medical supplies were enough for a while, so you and he didn't need to go outside, but he wanted to. nami went to see if she could buy something she liked. luffy went to see if he could find a nice restaurant. zoro, robin, brook and you stayed on the ship.

zoro and you had a hate-love relationship. you were friends and would get along, but he's the sassiest man you've ever met and just gets on your nerves. you just want to kill him.

some time has passed by and the crew came back. you were still reading your book, laying your head on robin's legs as she sunbathed.

"hey, uhm... i didn't know zoro and you were together..." usopp says awkwardly, approaching you as robin coughs in disbelief.

"we're not." you stand up, angry. "what is that stupid vegetable slicer saying now?"

"no! nothing! is just... franky and i found a kid... and he's... claiming to be your son..." you gag.

"MY WHAT?!" you hear zoro yelling and soon coughing desperately.

"where is he?" you ask the sharpshooter who points to the entrance. the green-haired kid looks so timid. he's just standing there, looking at every part of the ship. you approach him calmly, bending a bit so you can talk better to him. "hey, kid!" you offer him a smile and he can't help but feel calmer.

"hi, mom..." he answers in a low voice, still shy.

"why don't you say your name and we get to meet the others, huh? so you can tell us more about what's going on. do you know what's going on?" he looks into your eyes and advert his gaze again.

"something like that..." he plays with his fingers before answering your first question. "my name is roronoa koro." your eyes widen a bit, you can't hide your surprise.

"so you're really the kid of that stupid man..." you murmur and he nods.

"i swear he gets more likeable in the future." koro says, earning a warmful giggle from you. seeing his mother never fails to calm him.

"i rather see it myself." you offer your hand to him, who holds it without even thinking. "let's see the others."

as you walk hand-in-hand with koro, getting closer to the crewmates, they couldn't believe what their eyes were just seeing.

zoro's jaw fell on the ground. how- how can he have a child? with... you?

the little kid gasps immediately once he sees the swords zoro is carrying. he runs to his father and try to touch the the swords, but the grumpy swordsman doesn't let him to.

"what you think you doing?" he asks, holding the kid's head so he couldn't get closer.

"do you use them often?" the boy asks, curiosity dripping from his eyes.

"of course, i use them often. why wouldn't i?"

"well, currently, the three swords are untouched, held by a support in the living room's wall..." the little roronoa answers, trying to touch them at all costs. "let me see it!"

"no, you won't touch it!" zoro insists.

a loud noise was heard by the crew. a tray with some snacks was splattered on the floor while sanji stood there, looking at the little mosshead in front of him.

"am i seeing it right?" the blond cook's eyes were wide open. "WHY IS THERE A LITTLE MOSSHEAD?"

"uncle sanji!" the little boy runs to his beloved uncle, who was left flabbergasted.

"you like him? he's a stupid cook!" the swordsman was at a loss of words.

"and so are you." sanji laughs his ass off. his eyes glossy because of the tears of joy. "seriously... i can't believe you had- well, you're gonna have kids with this idiot." he talks directly to you.

"trust me... i have no reasons to..."

"my favourite boy! tell me, kid, what do you wanna eat? i can prepare anything just for you." sanji talks to him, guiding koro to the kitchen. luffy is following them quietly until sanji yells at him so he scurries away.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

trying to know more about him and where he came from, zoro and you sit and talk to koro. you were lying on a wall, koro was by your side and zoro was in front of you.

"so, how did you come here?" you ask the boy.

"i don't know. last thing i remember i was sleeping, then i ended up at that weird place." your son explains. "the weirdest thing is... my sister was next to me... why she's not here too?" he sounded confused.

"wait... not only one but two kids with the mosshead? what did i do to deserve such a punishment?" you mumble.

"ha ha, like it's my dream to have kids with you." the swordsman hissed.

"not only two, but three. you're pregnant." you gag as you listen to his words.

"three..." you whisper, not believing a thing. "what's your thing, huh? three earrings, three swords, three kids. are you obsessed or something?" you yell at zoro who just smirks.

"might be my lucky number." he keeps that eat-shitting grin on that stupid pretty face while you die internally. "wait, you have a sister... what's her... name?"

"the one you fought mom to name her. kuina." koro's face lit up at the mention of his sister. he really loves his family.

that annoying grin zoro held up in his face was replaced by a genuine smile which made you smile along, happy. koro knew about the past of both his parents and was really proud of them.

"lord, please give me strenght..." you sigh. "well, i know it can be a bit... confusing not to call me mom, so you can keep it..."

"and you like it..." you son knows you too well no to notice it. doesn't matter what timeline he's at, you'll always be his favourite person.

"and i like it..." you smile, ruffling his short green hair. "okay, i'll try to find some way to send you back to your life. future me and... zoro... might be worried." you stand up, pecking his forehead and walk away.

"pleeease, let me see it! mom never lets me..." the little boy pouts, making grabby hands at his father as soon as you're out of sight. "please, dad!"

that word. that kid.

"fine. but only if you tell me some things. it'll be our... little dad and son secret." zoro suggests, knowing way too well his son wouldn't refuse.

"deal!" he answers excitedly while watching his father pull wado ichimonji from its sheath.

koro inspects the sword. his eyes are bright, sparkling like a starry sky. he's just like his father, a swords lover. even though his mother has forbidden him from using one. zoro has an amused look watching his little soon-to-be-swordsman.

"so... did i become the greatest swordsman?" he questions, seeing koro maneuvering his sword.

"yes, you defeated mihawk." the reply is short and simple due to the boy's concentration to something else.

zoro just celebrates, murmuring a few things, feeling like he's the strongest man alive.

"did future me teach you that well how to use a sword?"

"sure thing! despite mom's clear rule not to let me touch a sword 'til i was sixteen, you've started to teach me two years ago." the kid smiles.

"and... last thing... uhm... did future me ever tell you how i get your mom?" the swordsman looks a little hesitant, even more when he sees the knowing look koro was shooting at him.

"hate her my ass." the roronoa kid mumbles.

"hey!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤU S O P P

the moment he spotted you coming back with a child, he thought you've just kidnapped her, but as soon as he laid his eyes on the little girl, he thought it was too good to be just a joke. when the girl introduced herself, he couldn't help but smile and welcome her, loving the idea of being the father of such a cute girl.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the crew were preparing to set sail. the island they docked at was way too small, so they hadn't much to do there. as soon as they've got everything they needed – or the island could provide – they'd get back to sailing.

yet, you were walking around the place, seeing some things, and if you liked it, you'd keep it.

you were standing at a fruit stall, hearing the seller babble about some rare golden fruit he just got from a distant island, but you knew it was just talking. you were distracted by your favourite fruit – which looked so pretty and delicious – that you didn't even notice a little girl running around.

"dada? dada!" she was screaming. she looked so terrified.

you turned around, seeing the kid crying. some people were trying to help her, some people were just ignoring her and passing by. but as soon as she spots you, she runs to you like you are her hope.

"mama!" she clutched to you and refused to let you go.

"oh! uhm... hey, baby... i'm- i'm not your mother, kid..." you tried to pry her off of you, but her grip was too strong.

"yes, you are! you're my mama! dada always talks about you and shows pictures of both of you. you are my mama!" she yells at you, not giving you space.

"okay, okay, let me see you, right?" she looked hesitant, but eventually she loosened her grip and looked up to you. she was so beautiful and reminded you of someone. "first, tell me your name, huh?" you knelt in front of her, taking her face in your hands.

"nyla..." the girl looks at you with such admiration.

"and where are your parents?" she frowned.

"you're here!" she insists, pouting when you refuse to be her mother. "you've met me! and dada might... be on the ship?"

"what?"

"the ship, mommy! can we go there, please?" her eyes were sparkling.

"fine..." you just accept. she streches her arms out to you, wanting to be as close as possible to you. you pick her up, heading to the sunny.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"uhm... who's... that girl?" usopp asks as he's the first to spot you with a child in your arms.

"dada!" nyla is quick to let go of you and run to her father, who just stands there, looking shocked.

"HE'S YOUR FATHER?" you yell, as shocked as usopp.

"yes! and you're my mama! and i'm happy to be here!" she points and hugs usopp, who embraces her too.

nami shows up at the deck and frowns. "who-"

"our daughter." you just accepted. it looked so confusing and complicated, you just accepted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

late at night, nyla wanted her father to sleep with both of you, but when you said usopp had to sleep in the boy's quarters, she sulked a bit, but eventually, accepted. it was clear to see that she was attached to you, like your shadow, or an extension of you.

"okay, so, i can stay just by the time you sleep, or else your mother throws me outta the ship." usopp explains casually, smiling, getting in the bed.

"right! i want mommy anyways!" she nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck while hugging you.

"see! i'm the favourite, hah!" you tease the sniper, who crosses his arms, sulking.

"that's not fair, nyla!" he tells her in a whining voice.

right after that, you can feel something wet on your neck and a sniffing.

"nyla, baby, why you're crying?" you push her a bit, trying to see her face. her eyes are red and wet, tears rolling down her cheeks nonstop.

"dada are you mad at me?" the little girl asks her father, whose eyes widen in surprise.

"no, no, i could never, love." he rushes to scoop her in his arms, calming her.

"i just wanna spend more time with mama..." her voice is muffled due to her face being pressed to usopp's chest.

"why that? i'll always be with you, huh?" you try to soothe her, but it doesn't, she sobs even more.

"i just have my dada now, mama. you're not there. i wanna spend more time with you because when i get back you won't be there..." you glanced at usopp, who looked even more panicked than you are.

"hey, come to mama..." you call her and nyla is quick to hug you. "don't think about that, okay? i'm here for you right now." you kiss her cheek, wiping her tears away. "and i won't leave by your side until is your time to get back to your life." she looked into your eyes, trying to catch every inch of your face so she can remember. "now let's sleep so tomorrow we can enjoy more!" she smiled.

"night momma, night dada!" nyla pecked yours and her father's cheek, then she closed her eyes, waiting for her time to be kissed.

usopp and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss both of her cheeks, making her giggle happily.

"night, baby girl." usopp sang, caressing her hair.

you closed your eyes, getting yourself comfortable to sleep and usopp stayed there, just like he said. well, is not like he'll get any sleep that night, after all, now he knows he has a daughter with the woman of his dreams, but she's not there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤS A N J I

the moment he saw a little girl looking for her parents, he'd be stunned. he could clearly see some of your traits on her face, just like your smile – the thing he adored the most about you. but he'd be confused asf, because who's that girl? when she finally introduces herself, saying she's the daughter of blackleg sanji and you, he'd faint. has... his dream just come true?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

you were in the kitchen with sanji. since the others have just gone to explore the new island, someone had to watch the ship, and you offered to do that. the cook, not missing an opportunity, said he'd be with you, after all, he couldn't let a delicate flower like you alone at an unknown place, right?

at the moment, sanji is cooking like always. he's making some kind of dessert he refuses to tell what it is.

"sanji, are you sure it doesn't contain anything i'm allergic to?" you ask, trying to peek at some of the ingredients.

"please, my swan, i'm not some kind of inexperienced chef, am i? i would never cook something you're allergic to. now, please, take a seat and be ready, i'm almost done." he says and you do, taking your seat and preparing yourself. sanji turns around, placing the plate with the colourful dessert in front of you. "et voilà! hope you like it!"

"i always appreciate your cooking." and you take a little bite. your eyes roll in pleasure. you're so lucky to have a sous chef in your crew.

sanji just looked at you in awe. he could move a mountain if it meant he could get you smiling.

"excuse me!" an unknown voice shouted from afar. you shoot a glance at the cook who is doing just the same.

"can't believe i'm being interrupted..." you murmur, taking another bite before heading to the deck with sanji following you.

there you were welcomed by a girl. her blue dress was a little dirty and you wondered if she has fallen.

"can we help you?" the blond cook asked her in a soft voice.

"uhmm... yes..." she looked a little hesitant. "i know it may sound a bit... unusual, but... my name is heaven and... i'm your daughter..." she avoided your gaze.

a loud thump was heard and you looked at your side. sanji has just fainted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

caught by some headache, sanji woke up. he was lying on the hammock...? but, i was on the deck...? well, he had some kinda dream. not weird, but the perfect dream! that might be the reason for that headache.

hearing distant voices, he waltzed through the ship, going to the kitchen. there, he could see you and the same girl in his dream!

"what?" he mumbles. heaven notices him and signs to you.

"oh, sanji, dear, come here!" you called him so excited he couldn't refuse – not like he would do it anyways. he always does what you say. "do you remember what heaven said?" you ask carefully.

"uhm... she's our daughter...?" the cook says hesitantly, afraid that what he has heard was just a dream.

"yess!" you squeal.

the girl seemed so amused. getting to know her parents when they're not even together yet. in her timeline, they're so in love with each other and her and... now... her mother seems so clueless or just... don't wanna know about him. after all sanji is a womanizer (for now).

"so it's true! hah! i thought it was just a dream, but is true!" now is his time to squeal and that makes heaven smile.

"it's different to see you like that..." the girl points out. "you know... having your hair hiding your eye."

"uhm..." he clears his throat. "it's just part of my style."

"i like your curly brows, dad!" she smiled and that alone would make sanji smile too, but the way she called him, it warmed his heart.

"okay, sanji, we've got you're excited to know you have a daughter-" you start, but he interrupts.

"with you! the most amazing woman i've ever got to know!" he bats his lashes, smiling widely.

"yeah... with me... but we need to know how to send her back to her timeline. she can't be here. she's not supposed to be here. future you and me might be worried... mainly you." you explain and he quickly gets to hug the girl, who appreciates her father's gesture.

"but she's our daughter! would you do that?!" he sounds so desperate, you may just slap him.

"yeah! but only in the future! it'll just mess up our time! maybe we don't even get together anymore."

"okay, kid! see you in the future." he immediately walks away from her, but quickly runs back, clinging to her. "but we can keep her while we don't find a way to send her back, right?"

"yeah! can i?" she joins her father, pouting and batting her lashes.

"fine! you didn't even need to do all that! what would i do to you if not keep you? throw you at the sea?" you ask in disbelief.

"he's the one most likely to get thrown..." heaven points to sanji.

"hey!"

"let's just wait for the crew and give 'em some good news." you smile, watching sanji and heaven get along well.

@LOLASKY ᡣ 𐭩 actually i've wrote sanji's part with the live action sanji in mind. idk he just looks so more mature... actually the live action characters in general!! but yeah wtv- dividers and template by @/cafekitsune

#one piece imagine #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #usopp

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kawaiianimeredhead · 2 years

Text

Being at my parents house has reminded me that I really kinda like their lil roaming vacuum

It really sucks there's a lot of shady things related to them

#theres is an older one and its shark not roomba tho im not sure the difference of that on a 'good' or 'bad' way #this one has magnetic strips you place in doorways to stop it which can look kinda meh #and while it claimed it would learn as it went looks like at least from a watching pov to not really know where its going besides #a general idea of where the dock it and it doesnt go in any noticable repeated pattern and not up and downs #which i dont really mind tbch #i think it can connect to wifi and an app but as far as im aware its not connected to either because my parents #do not do well with internet and apps so theyve not messed with it #it just gets turned on and roams #not saying there isnt any risk or issues with that but i also dont Know that? it that makes sense #anyways i forgot where im going with this #im just reminded that i wanted one and still sort of do because i even sorta like the machine noise of it going around #super super suck that theyre getting so 'advanced' lately and theres a lot of things involved i dont care for #like that post about the roomba with the camera #dont mind me #tag rambles #my parents dog does not care for this lol #kenzie used to bark at it then got over it #samantha stares at it and sorta follows it #but she also sees it less because my parents dont run it that often #im also curious if she remembers the time it tried to eat her bone and if that left any impression on her

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chrisevansonly · 7 months

Text

Lando’s Girls

lando norris x female reader

summary: there is no one lando loves more than you and his little baby girl

warnings: none very cute and soft lando

a/n: hi hi i’m a slob at writing i know but hopefully getting back into it more frequently this is meh but enjoy 😭

The sun was out in Monaco, the warm breeze filtering through the balconies that overlooked the harbour, the waves rolling into the many yachts that lined the docks. But up here, all the way up on the top floor of the building, sat Lando with his little baby girl Eloise Norris, all 8 months of her, looking up happily at her dad.

“oh you’re smiling at me huh? my cheeky girl”

Eloise flailed her arms as she hit her stomach lightly, letting out little babbles, Lando wishing he could hear these sounds for the rest of his life.

“i think you like the sun hmm? finally some nice weather?”

Lando had let you get some extra sleep after being up through the night with her, she’d been fighting off a cold and finally seemed to be turning the corner to getting back to her normal self.

You’d wandered downstairs in search of the two of them, furrowing your brows when they weren’t in the living room or playroom, but the sound of more giggles caught your attention and you made your way to the screen door.

“well there are my two favourite people!”

At the sound of your voice Eloise smiled even wider, Lando gently picking her up so she could stand, holding her sides so she wouldn’t wobble or fall.

“aren’t you the cutest little bug! did daddy dress you?”

Lando smiled

“say yes, my daddy dressed me, he does it the best!”

“Lan!”

Smacking him on the shoulder he laughed, before tilting his head back so you could lean down and kiss him, only then sitting next to them and kissing your little girls cheeks.

“daddy is being mean to mummy huh angel?”

Eloise smiled still, babbling away as she reached for you, your arms pulling her to your chest, before you leaned back into Lando, relaxing against him.

“i am doing no such thing…”

“oh sure you aren’t”

A quiet fell over the two of you, traffic noises beginning to fill the space as the city woke up more and more, Eloise’s eyes fluttering shut as she fell asleep against you.

“no better place in the world than right here, with my girls”

“lando’s girls hmm?”

Pressing a few kisses to your neck he hummed in response, every second he got to spend at home with the two of you, he never ever took for granted. The race season was long and hard, even more so being away from you and little norris too.

“thank you for this morning love..”

“you don’t have to thank me, i just wanted you to get your sleep”

Smiling you leaned further into him, the sun warm on your skin, a feeling after a few days of rain you missed.

“I love you”

Lando smiled as your eyes fluttered shut, his arms tightening around the two of you

“I love you to my angels…”

As you fell asleep along with your daughter, Lando couldn’t help but admire you both. Taking a few photos to save for himself, one that would turn into his lock screen a few hours later. He would do anything for his girls, be the best husband and father he could be, keep you both smiling and happy, and going above and beyond to keep you two safe and protected.

Even being the world’s best pillow for nap times, because let’s face it…he was a pretty comfy one.

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atsumutu · 7 months

Text

it’s your scream that wakes him up. a shrill cry that has zoro jerking upright and latching onto the hilt of his swords.

it takes him barely a minute to get to you, calling out your name as he enters your shared room where he finds you wide eyed and backed into a corner.

“what’s wrong?”

a quick scan of the room comes up empty for intruders so he returns his attention to you, closing the distance between you two with a few steps.

there were intruders. just not the human kind.

“c-cockroach!” you cry, pointing towards the corner of the room where sure enough, there’s a cockroach scuttering past.

zoro turns to you, unimpressed. it’s a tiny thing that hardly called for this level of reaction. it most definitely didn’t warrant cutting his mid afternoon nap short.

“seriously? i thought you were dying.” sleep still clings to his voice making it more rough than usual.

your frenzied eyes move back and forth from the cockroach to the swordsman. “please zoro, if you love me you’ll-“ a squeal cuts off your pleading when another one decides to make an appearance. with nowhere left to run, you just push yourself further into the corner, shutting your eyes.

before your scream comes to an end, zoro’s taken care of the situation, disposing off the offending creatures before returning to you.

“god, such a crybaby.” he grumbles, pulling you towards him. a warm palm settles on your back, rubbing up and down between your shoulder blades. “it’s gone now, okay? it’s dead.”

you peer at zoro through your lashes. “both of them?”

“yes, both of them.”

although his words comfort you, you seek further solace in his embrace, grabbing the fabric of his t shirt and nestling into his chest as he continues running up and down your back.

a few seconds pass before zoro pulls back, remembering something. “i thought you were going out?” he asks, recalling the lively chatter over breakfast as the straw hats made plans to explore the port town they were docked in for the next few days.

“I decided to stay in, thought you might appreciate some company.” you grin, mood perking up now that the cockroaches were dealt with.

zoro rolls his eyes, sassy man that he is, and you suddenly find yourself thrown over his shoulder.

“what i would appreciate is going back to my nap.” he huffs, making his way towards your shared bed.

giggling, you give his firm bottom a few pats. “of course, my hero deserves some rest.”

zoro tolerates it all with a smirk playing on his lips, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze. when he reaches the end of the bed, he drops you onto the mattress, chuckling mildly at the disgruntled noise you make. he makes quick work of removing his swords, resting them on their usual spot against the bedside table, before joining you.

it’s only when you’re tucked into zoro’s side that you pipe up again, lifting yourself to rest on your elbows, feeling playful. “zoro?”

he can already tell this isn't about to be a normal conversation just from the mirth dancing on your lips but he indulges you anyways.

“hm?”

“would you kill all the cockroaches in the world for me?”

zoro snorts at your absurd question. “that’s ridiculous.” he scoffs, fixing an arm behind his head and using the other to have you lie on his chest before answering, only because he knows how this goes with you. “yes, i would.”

he’s rewarded with a chaste kiss on the lips and the melody of your laughter. its enough to fill his entire body with warmth.

half an hour and several questions later, sleep still calls to him but his smile remains, content to humour you until your words begin to jumble into one and your breathing evens out into a familiar rhythm, convinced he could do this for an eternity with you.

#my first piece of writing for op i apologise for whatever this even is #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #zoro x you #opla #one piece live action

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star2fishmeg · 2 months

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ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʀᴀᴘs

[4.4k] Pairing | bsf!Luke Hughes x bsf!afab!reader Summary | luke and y/n are tired of feeling left behind and help each other out…but in the company of their friends. but it makes a good story, right? Warnings | 18+ smut, kinda slow start, best friends to lovers, long haired luke!!! Bc I love long hair, umich!luke, (basically public) fingering, swearing, appearance and sex insecurities, tiny bit of angst but not really, mutual pining, making out Authors Note | im in such a luke brainrot it’s painful, this was supposed to be a blurb but I can’t control myself but anyway, this is my first hockey fic i hope its alright. Based on this after hours post! This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes

Luke felt like a creep. But she looked so at peace sitting on the lake's docks, feet dangling and toes skimming the water's surface. While she was nothing but a silhouette in the distance, the sunset cascading on the horizon complimenting her like a portrait in a museum. He also wasn’t sure on how long he’d been standing at the sliding patio doors, the UMich boy’s voices blended out into a white noise while his mind wandered to crevices of thoughts he’d been avoiding for months, but anything to escape Ethan and Luca’s conversations about girlfriend stories. Yes, he was happy for them, found it cute in fact, but when was it his turn to have that chapter in his life? He could have it if he didn’t panic and fumble at every party they threw, just a bit more alcohol and maybe he’d have a chance but like all victims of tragedy, no one would ever be her. Could ever replace her or even substitute her. So, while his curls bounced in the gentle breeze, Luke Hughes admired the only girl in the University of Michigan that’s ever made his heart ache and contort in bittersweet ways.

With a firm slap to his back, Luke’s daydream snapped back to reality, to Dylan Duke grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. The most painful thing Dylan had to endure since he met Luke was watching his friend follow y/n like a lost puppy begging for attention, and there was nothing more he wanted than for the two to just kiss already. They almost did, once, at someone’s birthday party when they both nursed a bottle of tequila. But Dylan never told them that, he wasn’t entirely sure if he dreamt it, if he was honest.

“Just go talk to her, be honest,” Dylan said with a light chuckle, nudging Luke towards the porch steps.

Luke’s legs stopped stiff, and spun to face Dylan in protest, “No! What do I even say? ‘Oh, hey y/n I know we’ve been friends for a while, but I’m in love with you haha hope this doesn’t make it awkward’? Like, come on.” With the way Dylan’s grin turned almost menacing, Luke felt his heart almost stop, his stupidity catching up with him, “This stays between us, Duker.”

He groaned and watched Dylan giggle his way back inside. Wingman or menace? Fine line, but at least he was better than Jack. Who quite literally tried trapping him and y/n in a closet when he found out, hoping for the best. Perhaps Dylan would actually help him get somewhere, he’d spent many parties coaxing Luke into making a move but Luke being the humble soul he took pride in, let her have her peace. Oh, how much he regretted it every time he heard her laugh because of another guy.

Thankfully the docks were at the far end of his garden, out of earshot and almost out of sight, if you weren’t spying. He stood silently, just taking in her very existence alone. If she weren’t wearing his hoodie so proudly, he would’ve sat down by now but the heat that flushed into his cheeks prominently just had to ease before he could show his face. Maybe she’d find it cute that his face flushed so easily, or maybe she’d think he was a fool for thinking he had a chance. Girls were hard to read, so many codes and hints, he couldn’t keep up with them all and God forbid you had an ugly code name. Watching her like that did raise the thought, what was his code name? Did he really want to know?

“I can feel you starin’,” her voice chimed, their eyes meeting as she craned her neck, “you gonna join or just stand?”

Luke’s lips pulled into his famous half-smirk, “I like lookin’ at pretty things, can you blame a man?” He sat next to her, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder like they usually did, the weight of his boldness lifting off his chest. “What’s runnin’ through that mind of yours?”

“Who said I was thinking about anything? Maybe I was finally catching a break from the zoo. Maybe I was thinking that you need a haircut.” Her laugh was like music to his ears, her voice his favourite song and every word that rolled off her tongue felt like ecstasy surging through him and freezing the world around them.

Spending a summer in a lake house was the only way y/n ever wanted to live. An oasis of serenity and laughs, endless memories, and an escape. But while she dipped her toes in the water, watching her reflection ripple, the everlasting thought that it was fleeting crawled its way back to the surface whether she wanted it to or not. The boys had been doing this longer than she had, it was her first time at the lake house and possibly her last. But there was nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasted, being trapped under the same roof as the boys wasn’t as bad as she’d assumed. Except for the smells, they were straight-up disrespectful. Would she still love it as much if she was with other friends? Hard to say, if Luke was there, everything would be fine. Maybe a couple more girls would’ve been nice too, though.

“Please, you’re staring blankly, don’t try me.” Luke scoffed playfully, shoulder gently nudging hers as she rolled her eyes, unable to resist a gleaming smile. As much as she wanted to rebuttal, he was right. They’d met on the first week of university, Luke starting hockey practice and y/n starting as their new social girl and since then the pair of them had been two peas in a pod. Completely enamoured with each other, attached at the hip, where Luke went, he’d bring y/n, his person. “Wait, you think I need a haircut? Is it that bad?”

She laughed, Luke, stooping so she could thread her fingers through his unruly curls gently, something only she was allowed to do, “Nah, I like your hair long, cut it and I’ll cut you.” They pulled back, sitting in their original postures and watched the sun’s pinks fade to oranges, “I was thinking about how many girls you’ve brought here.”

He blinked twice, turning his head slowly to face her and to his surprise his eyes met hers. There was a gloss to them, illuminated brightly by the sunset but like glass as if she were about to break. Heart beating in his ears, he licked his lips, almost quivering when he began to speak.

“Just you.” His voice just above a whisper, husky, “Only you. Always you.” Their gazes lingered, and his eyes fluttered to her lips for just a split second before he found himself licking his lips again, feeling his throat dry at the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. His heart ached, he didn’t have half the guts the Fantilli brothers did, if he had then maybe he would’ve at least wrapped his arm around her. Instead, he sat like he was paralysed, just shoulder to shoulder as she rubbed her bare foot against his leg, their skins touching, lighting little fires up his body and his stomach gaining a warmth he’d only felt in the after-hours of his bedroom.

“Lu?” she rested her head on his shoulder, staring back out towards the horizon, “Do you ever feel like you’re so far behind the people around you? Like you’re missing out.”

Luke leaned his head against hers, almost nuzzling into it as he thought. It was a heavy question, one that’d been weighing on her for a while. Or he assumed, considering she’d never openly asked the group. That’s what made him feel special. Her feet hung still, ending their teasing game and just fell limp. He exhaled, could he let his pride go and agree? Or could he completely one-up himself and disagree, which made him braver? He loathed the storms she started in him, thoughts he never imagined he would think in his hockey brain. One girl could change his entire train of thought, change his heartbeat, change his mood. One woman he pined like a lost puppy over.

“Sometimes. What do you mean?”

“Like, all my friends have these insane hook-ups and embarrassing sex stories and I have nothing. Yeah, I’ve had boyfriends before, but I was younger and stupid then. I go out with my friends and I’m basically invisible to any guy who approaches us, just feel unlovable. And now here I am, twenty years old and a fucking virgin with little experience and no wild stories.” She vented, barely taking a breath as the words spilt from her mouth. Luke’s chest twisted, his face softening when she snuggled into his side. “I don’t know where I’m going wrong, Lu.”

He paused and bit his lip when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her body into his chest. She melted into his touch, getting a whiff of his woody, amber cologne, her favourite one at that, the one he always wore. She’d never had the chance to properly relish in his touch, was his chest always this firm? Arms always bring this much security? Fuck, when did his hand get so sexy when on her body, gliding down her arm to nestle in the curve of her waist. With her ear pressed to him, the thundering in his chest surrendered his cover entirely. Cool and collected Luke Hughes was secretly a bumbling mess.

“I get you.” he finally spoke, ears burning when her finger traced shapes on his thigh, “My entire life has been hockey, so not a lot of space for experiences either. Not enough time for relationships between practice and games, development camps and time with family. A lot of the girls who liked me didn’t really like that. That or they liked my brothers and friends more, they are a lot more attractive than me, so I don’t blame them. M’just average.”

Y/n pulled away almost instantly, her eyebrows knitted and jaw agape. For a moment she thought she heard him wrong, ‘a lot more attractive than me’, ‘just average’? Delving into Luke’s psyche turned out to be an entirely different road trip than she had thought, heartstrings tugged as her lips fell to a frown. Who in the world made him feel like that? Who did she need to hunt down? But then again, Luke’s blood boiled hearing how insignificant she felt and who exactly made her think that to start with?

“Luke Hughes you are not average! You’re the hottest guy I know!” she yelped, the hand that drew gentle patterns now clutching his thigh tight. Luke gulped but didn’t retract away from the noise. His brain was too busy short-circuiting over the fact her fingers were dangerously close to his crotch, doing his best to contain himself with slow breaths, “They just didn’t give you a chance, if they really knew you, they’d be heads over heels. You’re so fucking smart, and passionate. And-and if they saw you smile for real, not a half-smile, your full smile with your teeth, the one that feels like a warm summer’s day. It’s their loss, they’ll never know how sweet you are, that after a bad game, you want steak and head scratches, that you’re sentimental as fuck- like you wear that Yankees hat because Quinn got it for you when you fell ill and couldn’t make the game. You’re not average.”

Luke blinked, once, twice and thrice as her eyes bored into his, glazed with fire as the words tumbled from her mouth and circled his head. He watched the way her body rose and fell as she caught her breath, the grip on his thigh tightening and heat rising through his body. He felt the sweat building on the back of his neck, his collar suddenly becoming too tight. She thought he was hot? She remembered such little details about him like they’d known each other since they were kids. The hand around her waist slid to her lower back, his thumb rubbing the fabric of her (his) hoodie unconsciously.

He smiled, his warm smile she mentioned, where his eyes wrinkled and his chin tilted up triumphantly, “The hottest guy you know, huh?”

Y/n’s face dropped. Never in her life had she experienced her heart stop the way it did hearing those words. She stared like a deer in headlights, she slipped up and the heat rushing to her cheeks burned. This is what happens when you let your feelings take over, you make a fool of yourself in front of the one person who would never want to. She sighed, hung her head and hid her face in her hands, the butterflies in her stomach choking her when Luke let out a saccharine chuckle that made all the flowers bloom.

Large, warm hands wrapped around her wrists with a feather touch, and slowly pulled her hands away from her face and into her lap, soothing her nerves with a gentle rubbing of her knuckles with his thumbs. Although his hands felt clammy, the tingling in his stomach became too addicting to care about it too much anymore.

“Don’t hide,” she was radiant under what was left of the tangerine hues, eyes almost sparkling, “let me see that pretty face.”

She hesitantly raised her head, eyes meeting his and her body relaxed. She had no idea why she was so embarrassed, he hadn’t gagged, laughed in her face nor had he physically repulsed. Instead, he looked at her like she’d hung out the stars for him, wide eyes with rose-tinted ears.

“I think you’re very pretty too. Beautiful even, I-“ he hesitated, “you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about kissing you, asking you out. Honestly, the idea of you rejecting me is terrifying so I never did, plus, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

Her eyes fluttered to his lips, the world around them falling silent until it was just them in their own bubble. Luke gulped, his eyeline following the way she flickered between his eyes and his mouth before he found their bodies leaning into one another, noses ghosting. His hands released her wrists, one arm snaking around her waist sending an electric tingle through her veins and holding her firmly close. They’d been this close before, sure. Multiple occasions of having his arms around the back of the sofa they sat snug on, arm hooked around her shoulders because some guy couldn’t get the memo at bars, in fact, the root cause of their problem was undeniably because everyone assumed they were together except them.

Y/n’s palm held his cheek tenderly, the hot, carnal desire to devour the boy only being released from its cage when he melted into her touch as if he was opening his doors to vulnerability.

“I can teach you if you like,” she whispered, her thumb tracing across his bottom lip. Luke’s fingers gripped her waist as if she couldn’t be any closer than she already was, but he couldn’t risk letting her slip from his grasp again. He wanted to erase all those other guys who’d kissed her, he would be the last guy on Earth to taste the lips that words and giggles laced with a honey-like sweetness that cradled his heart.

“God, please-“ his heart beat twice as fast, y/n leaning in, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips gently to his. If he were to die right there, he’d die the happiest man alive. Her lips were soft and warm, igniting every firework inside of him and adrenaline shaking him back to life. He could do this for hours, drinking in her citrus fragrance, lips mimicking the way she moved hers against his. If she was a match, he was kerosene and he’d let her set him ablaze over and over if it meant he could feel like the only man in the world until the end of time.

They pulled away, eyes fluttering open to an exchange of giggly smiles. Despite it being a closed-mouth kiss, nothing extra, just soft and sweet, Luke’s thoughts raced at a million miles per hour. All the weight on his shoulders lifted and he nuzzled into her palm, placing a kiss on it.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, his puppy-like gaze almost distracting her from how his skin burned pink in her palm. But in a way, all her previous anxieties dissipated like dust in the wind, tummy flipping at the pathetically sweet and lovestruck expression spread on Luke’s face, “Your face is so red. Are you okay?-”

“-Can we do that again?” He pleaded, quickly, desperately, a certain yearning feeling on his lips that he couldn’t quite describe, except that he needed to taste her again. He needed more, so much more to quench his thirst, a kind of fuzziness he felt in his core.

“Uh- yeah, let me show you what a real kiss is.” No hesitation was needed, y/n’s hand slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck, fingers carding through his curls as she roughly connected their lips again, messier, teeth chattering from the impact. Luke’s other hand found comfort on her thighs, pulling them over his lap and giving gentle squeezes, moaning when y/n bit his lower lip. He opened his mouth with ease, failing to hold back another moan when her tongue lapped his. He wasn’t sure how to react, he’d never made out with anyone and it’s not like his brothers would’ve explained it well either. So, he repeated her movement, his tongue dancing with hers with saliva lubricating their lips each time they dove back in to devour each other. Y/n tugged his curls lightly, pulling him closer, savouring the kindling arousal leaking into her panties with the way he craved her.

Luke pulled away to breathe, his chest heavy but shorts becoming tight with the intense and fiery eye contact that screamed nothing but lust, “You,” he kissed her again, fervently, “taste,” another kiss, “amazing.” He mumbled into her lips and their tongues stirred again, whimpers drawing from the back of her throat when his hand travelled further up her thigh, under her shorts and found solace on the skin only he could touch. Any further and she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t pounce, her underwear was soaked through and sticking to her folds and even one measly brush on her clit would open the floodgates.

A foreign burst of confidence washed over him, and he detached their lips, a string of saliva between them and her hand still tugging at his curls and whether intentional or not, he discovered something carnal clawing away inside him. Wetting his lips, he dove into her neck, planting wet kisses along her column and nipping in the hope of hearing her mewl again. Y/n tilted her head to the side, giving him free rein over her skin and her jaw slacking, whining his name with her thighs clenching together for any kind of friction. As he began to run his hand along her thigh, his pocket vibrated continuously, earning a growl to rumble from his throat.

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” y/n whined, hand falling from his hair to his chest. Luke pulled his phone from his pocket with a disgruntled look, of course, his moment was ruined. Swiping the notification away, he clicked his tongue, sliding his phone back into his shorts.

His arms wrapped around her waist, and looked back into her adoring yet disappointed eyes, “Dylan wants to know if we’re joining them for a movie.”

“I’m quite happy staying here with you.”

“Who says we have to watch the whole movie?”

Silence hung over the living room, only the TV blaring and the light crunching of popcorn from different directions. The lights were off, just the TV and three boys crammed on one sofa, and three plus y/n on the other. Luke, y/n, Rutger and Adam on the sectional directly opposite the TV, Luke occupying the end with the chaise for his legs, and y/n sat between them and huddled under a blanket. Rutger sat in the middle with Adam on the furthest end. Dylan, Luca and Ethan huddled together on the sofa adjacent to the TV, popcorn littered between them from missing mouths and flinching.

Luke’s hands wrapped around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest while she slowly chewed Haribo’s, feeding them to him now and then. While his heart skipped beats, feeling like a meadow of tulips blooming in the Spring, y/n’s wiggling against his crotch lured all the heat and butterflies from earlier straight back to his stomach, sending it into twists and turns. Heat flushed to his neck when she pushed her arse back into him, in an innocent attempt to readjust. A deep exhale through his nose and his hands slithered to her thighs, fingers kneading the flesh like dough as his head dipped into her shoulder, breath hot on the skin and making her hairs stand on edge.

“Stop wigglin’, pretty girl,” he whispered into the shell of her ear, placing a kiss, “you’re drivin’ me crazy.”

She froze, body falling limp into his as he ran his hands under her hoodie, his stiffened cock poking into her backside as she caught on to what his problem was. The sex-deprived whore in her awakened with a jolt, his cock solid because of her, and there was nothing she wanted more than to feel him pressed up against her, unable to find his release and have the rasp of his voice reverberate through her being as her vibrator.

“And if I don’t?” she whispered back, as close to him as possible without being heard. Instead of answering, Luke dipped his fingers down her shorts, middle finger brushing against her clothed clit. His eyes locked to the screen in front of him, resisting the urge to smirk when her breath hitched but continuing to glide his finger – in what was a lucky guess – over her bundle. She squirmed, clamping her thighs together, only to have them pried open by his free hand.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet, unless you want to be caught.” His playful tone sent chills down her spine, goosebumps swarming on her neck but melting into his touch. She plopped another sweet into her mouth, chewing intensely when Luke drew his long fingers away, only for her to feel them caress over her skin, cold on her warm body, and down her panties. To describe the sensation that zipped through her when the pad of his middle finger reunited with her clit would be the same shock if you were to be struck by lightning: sudden and sharp, rattling up the spine.

Y/n placed the bag of sweets in her lap, tucking both hands under the blanket with the hope of seeming less suspicious, but her hand skimmed down his arm and placed itself on his, slowly guiding his movements on her nub until he got the idea. Firm yet gentle circular movements, the slick seeping from her warm on his fingertips, so inviting he wished he could have a taste. She pulled the blanket to her chin, not only to cover Luke’s sudden mood but to form some form of distraction from the fuzzy feeling rising to her head. No, she’d never had this before, so the experience itself embraced her tight, addicting like nicotine.

He kissed her temple, two fingers sliding into her cunt almost perfectly, too perfect that another Haribo was abused between her teeth as her breathing struggled to remain neutral. The moan that would’ve slipped past if she hadn’t been concentrating would’ve been embarrassing enough. Luke began languid plunges into her, relishing in the way her walls squeezed his fingers tight, keeping shallow at first. The more her pussy swallowed him in their wetness, the faster his mind spiralled in greed and his pace sped up, y/n’s nails digging deep into his leg, leaving crescent shapes on the skin. The heat pooling in her stomach was riveting, knowing she would finally have an insane story to tell even more so. No one could say that Luke Hughes’ tongue tasted theirs like it was the best meal he’d ever lapped up and that he’d watched a movie with his friends while pushing the limits of both his and their sanity publicly.

With a rush of adrenaline and her nails marking him, he buried his fingers deep into her cunt, driving swiftly and curling in places that made her wriggle against him, his free hand having to hold her hips still with a bruising grip and his cock begged for attention in his shorts. Y/n popped two more sweets in her mouth, relying on their gummy nature to suppress the moans that threatened to tear through her as the knot inside her came dangerously close to snapping with the way he bullied her pussy with his bare hands. His breathing fell deep and shuddered, his heart infatuated with the ecstasy of finger-fucking the woman of his dreams in front of an entire room of his friends hammered in his chest while his face struggled to stay indifferent and jaw tight like his cock isn't throbbing violently and straining against her arse. Like she wasn’t bucking her hips into his touch like he couldn’t tell that her heart was going haywire because of just him alone. If this was what foreplay was like, the idea of piledriving balls deep in her until she couldn’t remember her name was divine.

He dragged out his last pumps, the knot in her stomach snapping and coating his fingers in hot, sticky release, kissing her temple upon her body physically shuddering. Y/n pulled the blanket up to her chin as if she had shivered naturally, stuffing her mouth into the fluffy material. Luke pulled his fingers out, wiping the residue on his shorts, practically drooling over the image of milking her dry. His arms snaked around her waist, snuggling close. Y/n sighed, slumping back into him. On the outside Luke was his collected and cool self, his breathing stable and attention on the movie, the heat in his face and hands that rested on her stomach, soothing her heart rate screamed that he was the happiest guy in the room. With every gentle stroke of his thumb on the flesh of her stomach, her heart soothed and her eyelids became increasingly heavier.

"Was that story worthy?" He whispered, kissing her cheek sweetly.

Luke’s pocket buzzed and he tutted, carefully sliding it from his pocket and unlocking it, trying his best to prevent the screen from blinding everyone.

Duker idk if ur freaky or brave u dog

Luke closed his phone and looked up towards Dylan, who sat with a shit-eating grin. He smiled and shook his head, mouthing a subtle, ‘this stays between us’.

[Masterlist]

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#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes smut #lh43 #nhl smut #nhl x reader #hockey smut #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfic #≡lh43

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innerfare · 1 month

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Smutty Law Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Law headcanons

Genre: pure smut

CW: spanking, oral sex, penetrative sex, daddy kink

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The most effective way to start his engine is to walk by, take his hat off, and run your fingers through his hair. Bonus points if you place a kiss on his temple. Extra bonus points if you put his hat back on his head and walk away like nothing happened.

Does his best work with his hands. Long, lithe fingers, nice and thick, knows exactly how to use them.

Works really hard to hide how worked up you get him.

Takes him a long time to feel comfortable fucking with the lights on. A nocturnal creature, accustomed to living deep below the sea. Nearly has a heart attack the first time you strip down on an empty beach in the middle of the day while docked on a summer island. You thought, “why the hell not?” And he thought, “please, no.” He then proceeded to have the best orgasm of his life, not that he’d admit it.

It also took him a long time to make any noise in bed. He’s so accustomed to silently jerking off just to get a grip on his raging hormones that it takes a while for him to learn that moaning and groaning is acceptable and even expected.

Not much of a dirty talker. Mostly says your name in an extra deep voice and groans, gasps, and grunts when he cums, swears if you have a special trick up your sleeve. That being said, he will give you the occasional order and will absolutely, enthusiastically argue with you in bed. He hates being teased, so teasing him is a good way to warm up his vocal cords.

Favorite part of a blowjob is when you suck lightly on his balls. Lets out a low, “fuck,” the first time you do it. From that point onward in the encounter, he’ll be vocal (by his standards).

His eyes roll back in his head when he cums. He turns into putty in your hands.

Likes being called daddy, even on the occasions when you’re the one who’s more in control. It makes him feel more at ease considering he really struggles to cede power. Also enthusiastically answers to Captain and Doctor.

Has never once asked to change positions, just puts you where he wants you.

A quiet/calm dom, but not necessarily a soft one. Very firm, expects you to do what he tells you without complaint. He, on the other hand, complains nonstop if you tease him, but he does secretly love it in small doses.

Is kind of fussy about perceived subordination. He’s very particular about where you touch him. It takes a really long time to convince him to let you ride him, and even then, he won’t let you do it often or for more than a minute before he’s pushing you beneath him again.

Really enjoys when you put your hand on his throat and squeeze, but refuses to call it choking because that makes him sound submissive.

Is also very into spanking. He’ll spank you over every little thing. Any excuse to throw you over his knee. He’ll palm and massage your ass when it gets to be a little too much, but he’ll quickly get right back to it. If you’re fucking this man, you’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that you’re never going to sit comfortably ever again.

His favorite position is missionary, with one of his hands holding yours and the other pushing your leg up, his fingers digging into your thigh, his face buried in your neck while he bottoms out inside of you. He’ll roll his hips slowly but surely, his rhythm nice and steady.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law headcanons #law x reader #heart pirates #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #law smut #trafalgar law smut #one piece smut

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nvuy · 5 months

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nuvy. nuvy have you heard of the boothill leaks.

YES i did *salutes*

boothill story leaks under cut;

girl dad girl dad

soooo what about boothill falling in love with a single parent with a daughter hmm hmm

like god if he doesn’t just accidently run into the kid and she squeals over him because “hey!! cool robot man!!” and you chase her down and apologise.

he freezes, because your daughter looks so much like his did.

same hair colour, same eye colour, same energy that he could barely keep up with, just learning to walk on two feet properly and string together words to form simple sentences.

it absolutely destroys him. in the worst and best way possible. especially since your daughter practically develops an admiration for him on the spot, begs to be carried, and you’re confused because “sweetie, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”

like like.,,,, example……..

Something small and warm wraps around his hand and Boothill glances up quickly from his lap.

There was a little girl searching for his fingers, barely three years old by the looks of it. Pretty tresses of black hair flowing in the wind near the shoreline, sniffling and barely standing on short wobbly legs.

“I need help,” she hiccups, and Boothill melts on the spot. So small and helpless, like a baby bird away from its mother’s nest. “I can’t find my–”

And of course, he stands up, dusts off his pants, and offers her his hand. He guides her away from the beach back towards the market where crowds of people swarm the stalls.

It’s nighttime, cold, and definitely no place for a little girl to be by herself.

“What’s your parents look like, princess?”

He busies himself searching for any targets that would make sense given the girl’s prattling of your appearance down to the colour of your shoes—“White. Like mine.” Hers light up purple with each step she takes—too many faces, too many people.

He stands to give up when he hears somebody frantically running around like a lunatic to every single store, asking if they’ve seen a little girl with light up sneakers wandering about.

“Calm down. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” he heard one of the assistants try.

Another shopkeeper offers a pitiful frown and shakes their head.

Boothill nudges the girl, squeezing her small hand in his, careful of his strength around fragile bones. “Is that them?”

She quickly wipes the tears from her face. She then nods and takes off into a sprint to lunge at you, still sobbing when she wraps her arms around your leg.

You sigh in relief and scoop her up into your arms.

Boothill then has an entire conundrum in the middle of the market square. For one, your daughter is waving him over with a smile on her face. Two, you looked like you were about two seconds away from passing out in shock. Your clothes are askew, hair a mess, face flushed and yet simultaneously drained of blood.

He steps closer anyway, though hesitantly. He can’t say no to the little thing whose grin has now grown double the size of her face.

“This is the man that helped me,” she explained softly to you, pointing at him with a small finger.

You scanned him over.

For a moment, he thought you were going to turn around and book it in the other direction. A random ‘robot man’ in the centre of the town square was probably the least most inviting thing he could’ve been. Not to mention he had been sitting at the docks for so long staring out into the water he knew his hair had been tossed wildly from the wind.

Not that you appeared anymore put together.

Instead, you grab his face with a free hand and kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely.

He almost damn near blue screens. The words ‘anything for you’ fight to come forth out of his throat.

Instead, he lets out a garbled noise before he clears his throat. “Of course. Couldn’t let the little princess run too far.” He teased your daughter with a tap to her nose.

She grabs his finger and presses the pads of her own across the metal rivets and joints like she’s studying them curiously.

Your daughter stared up at you with giant puppy eyes, still holding his hand. “Can we keep him?”

It was your turn to make a weird noise, spluttering with your face heating up. “You can’t keep people.”

All the while, Boothill was staring at you as you chastised her with hot cheeks.

No spouse by the looks of it—nor had the little princess mentioned somebody else. He knew kids liked to ramble on about their parents.

Well, his daughter did. Something cold and metallic turned in his stomach. She used to think her dad was a hero.

He wondered if she still would.

No ring on your finger. Adoration was such a gentle expression on your face, and the way you held her so firmly, yet so delicately, said it all.

Oh, if he wasn’t completely head over heels from the very beginning.

the angst potential. The angst potential. Theeee angst potential. i’m gritting my teeth.

i’m going insan e

#boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill hsr #✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )#✦ ( rambles. )

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harboredseal · 5 months

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gotta be honest i have no idea what my blog actually looks like rn

#like the main page . i forgor #i also keep forgetting . to use this account SHDHDTJDH #dock noise

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melgillman · 2 months

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I have some pretty big personal news to share: next week, I am moving to San Francisco to start a new job as department chair of the Comics BFA and MFA Programs at California College of the Arts!

I've been teaching at CCA since 2015, and it's been an absolute delight getting to work with the incredibly talented students and faculty there. I'm thrilled to get this chance to help lead this program I love very, very dearly.

San Franciscans -- I will see you very soon! And if you hear some weird noises from the docks, don't worry, that's just me

#california college of the arts #san francisco

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nanamis-princess · 5 months

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✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Asking them to peel an orange for you; strawhat addition

Synopsis: they peel an orange for youuu<3

Genre: fluffy fluff fluff

T/w: 🤔 I don’t think there is any, lmk if I’m wrong. Possibly misspelled words I’m sleepy lolll.

Luffy, zoro, nami, sanji & usopp (separate) X reader

Luffy

-he’s sitting out on the deck drawing as you guys are heading to you next destination. You come and plop down next to him, he turns smiling at your presence. “Look y/n! I’m drawing a fish.” He holds up the drawing so you can see better. Smiling at his drawing you look towards him before he goes back to drawing “luffy can you peel this for me?” You ask innocently.

-he sets down his pencil and sketchbook before taking the orange from your hands, “yeah sure!” He begins working away.

-he gets done peeling it fast and tries getting the bigger pieces of the orange strings off for you. He also steels a little piece of the orange before handing it to you with a bright smile. “Here you go!”

-once you begin eating your now peeled orange, Luffy tries a small piece of the outer orange. His face twists in discomfort, humming in discomfort he gets up and goes to the railing spitting the rind into the sea.

Zoro

-He just got comfortable in his hammock after struggling with his swords to cooperate. Laying back with his eyes closed listening to the way the boat rocks softly with the waves. Hearing you make you way to him, he opens one eye. His arms are crossed behind his head. “Mhm?” He hums as he scans over your face for any signs of discomfort.

-you hold the tangerine second guessing if maybe you shouldn’t ask, he looks comfortable. “I was going to ask if you could peel this for me” you say looking at the tangerine. “Are your fingers broken?”he asks as his attention is on you now. You let out a little huff “no I just didn’t want to get all the stickiness on my hands” you say feeling a little dumb for asking him now

-just as your about to turn to leave he holds out his hand for the orange

-it doesn’t take him long to peel it, he gets off some of the white strands but then hands it to you. “Bon appétit” he says in a plain sarcastic tone, mocking Sanji in the process with a small grin on his face.

Nami

-shes sitting in the kitchen with a book and a cup of tea while you guys are docked somewhere. Just you two on the ship, keeping an eye on it. She turns her page as she acknowledges you coming in, her eyes look up from her book as you sit across from her. “What’s up?” She asks as her eyes go back to her book.

- “I want this tangerine but I don’t feel like peeling it,” you say hoping she gets the hint. She looks at you above her glasses with a tsk noise leaving her, she puts her book mark in place and closes her book.

-she takes the orange and begins peeling it as the citrus smell fills the space between you. She picks her tea cup, placing it on the table so she has a place to put your orange. She get most of the white strings off, peeling an orange is mussel memory at this point. She splits it in half for you.

- before siding the plate to you she takes three little piece of the orange, she eats a slice and smiles at you. “preparing tax” she motions to the small piece she took before opening her book.

Sanji

-he just got done with the lunch rush and luffy’s big appetite, sitting out on the deck enjoying his cigarette. He notices you out the corner of his eye as you are walking to him, he smiles brightly at you as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Hello sweetheart” he says as you stand across from him. “Hi Sanji, I wanted to tell you that lunch was good, I never got to tell you earlier” you say with the orange in your hand.

- “I’m glad you liked it my sweet” he says with a small smile as he admires you. He takes note of the orange and nods towards it before holding out his hand. “I can peel that for you” he looks up at you and takes it once you hand it to him.

-he’s swift and makes it look so easy, he even gets a majority of the white strands off for you. He makes it so they are just little pieces, you don’t even have to rip it apart. Handing the pieces back to you “here you are my love” he says with a smile before getting up to discard of the rind.

-he comes back out to sit with you as you watch Luffy and usopp try to catch dinner.

Usopp

-you find him sitting down fidgeting with his slingshot and making more ammo. It takes him a moment to realize you are sitting across from him but he smiles when he sees you. He gives you a brief yet detailed rundown about how he’s going to take down bad guys with his weapon.

- “I was wondering if you could peel this for me?” You ask looking at him as he dusts off his hands. Usopp nods “yeah yeah, I got you” he says as he takes the orange. He works away a the rind then the stringy parts.

- he splits it in half for you, one of the small pieces come off and he holds it up to his mouth it make it look like a smile. He smiles whiling holding it up to his lips then eats it before holding out the rest for you.

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 1 month

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The Prince - Chapter Seven

A/N: Hi friends! I can't say it enough, thank you so much for all of your love on this story. I was so worried when I was drafting it that I was writing nothing, so thank you so much for your support! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Like before, please see tag list in comments.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.8k Synopsis: As their remaining hope dies out, the reader takes Jeyne's advice.

Warnings: smut!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

You get on a ship to Dragonstone early the next morning. You don't see Jace before you leave, and you don't even entertain the thought of looking for him.

It’s a two day trip to Dragonstone, and throughout most of the journey you stand against the railing, watching the water crash against the ship over and over. You feel like the water, a little bit. No matter what you do, what actions you take to be careful, it’s hit after hit, to you and those around you.

The trip is a silent one, and when the castle is finally visible, it suddenly dawns on your how alone you'll be here. The castle is mostly abandoned save a few necessary staff. Even the crew that surrounds you now provide some kind of background noise, some escape from inside your head.

The quiet might be a blessing, though, you realize. In the Red Keep, there was always a member of House Targaryen distracting you from your task. After what Jeyne had said about Lord Blacktyde, you needed to finally focus on finding a husband.

The crew lets you off the ship without fuss, dropping your case on the pier next to you. They are on their way to Pentos, and for a moment, you consider running back aboard and going with them. Resettling in a strange country seems easier than navigating through the mess you made here.

The warden is waiting for you at the end of the dock. He greets and leads you towards the castle, saying very little to you on the walk up. As you get closer, you take in the dark castle. It’s not as large as the Red Keep, but the inside is so empty that it might as well be. When you walk inside, your footsteps echo all the way up to your quarters.

You are given a room that looks out onto the bay. Once the door closes behind the warden, you walk out there, letting the cool breeze off the sea fill your lungs. Somehow, the air feels different here.

It’s peaceful here. For a moment you delude yourself that you could hide out here forever. It’s large enough that it would take a little while for anyone to locate you if hidden. But then a cry breaks over the horizon, and you realize why that plan would never work.

A green dragon's silhouette breaks across the horizon. The sight of Vermax does not surprise you. Without realizing it, you knew Jace would follow you. Maybe that's why you had walked out here, you had instinctually known he would be there.

Vermax banks into a landing on the seashore, far down from the dock you arrived at. You watch Jace approach the castle. The wind whips the curls around his face and the cape across his back. The doors to the castle open before he can reach them, sight of his dragon tipping them off as well. The warden greets him, much heartier than he did you.

Jace’s eyes glance up for a minute but do a double take when he sees you watching. He smiles, and the look soothes you.

Moments later, he is at your door. When you don’t answer right away, you hear him laugh.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice warm, “I already saw you, so don’t try to hide.”

“I would never dream of hiding from you, Your Highness,” you say, opening the door for him. His good humor falls just a little bit when you close it behind him.

“I heard what happened,” he says.

“I assumed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything,” you say, fiddling with a ring on your finger to keep from looking at him. “And besides, it doesn’t matter,” you say with a sigh.

“Why not?”

“Because we knew this was where this path would lead us.”

“Y/N,” he starts with a sigh.

“We knew,” you say quietly, frowning at him. He looks like he wants to say more, but knows that whatever point he'll make is moot.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because it’s my fault we’re in this mess.”

“Jace," you say with a sad laugh, "I kissed you the first time.” His dark eyes meet yours.

“I could have left you alone,” he says seriously.

“Could you have?” you ask, studying his face. “Truly?”

“I could have tried."

“Well, it doesn’t matter now," you say, walking into the room, fiddling with the furniture around you, just to keep your hands busy. Nerves build inside of you as you ask, "What did Baela say?”

“Just that she knew. I didn’t argue with her, I just let her get it out.”

“Was she angry?” you ask, chancing a look back at him. He looks tired, you realize for the first time. You wish you could go to him.

“She was angry about the lying, but Baela thinks like me,” he says slowly, “We don’t have what you and I have. Not even close. I think if she knew how we feel. How we truly feel—”

“She’d give up being queen?” you ask in disbelief.

“She’s one of my closest friends, she wants me to be happy.”

“Regardless,” you say, “This doesn’t lead anywhere else but here. I will never be your queen.”

“I told you I’m trying. With my mother—”

“Even if the queen was okay with it, would the realm be? Would Balea and Rhaena? Would their father?” you ask, eyes wide as you fight off frustrated tears.

“They will all get over it,” he says. “ The realm doesn’t care. Not every Targaryen has married within their family.”

“This argument is useless,” you say, leaning against the table in your room with a sigh. “We are simply out of time and options.”

“If we talk to Baela—”

“Baela would have told you already if she wanted to break your betrothal,” you say. “She doesn’t. And I don’t blame her.” He moves closer, the closest you've been since he arrived. You brush a hand over his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I know that this breaks your heart, like it does my own,” you say softly. Jace’s hand covers yours and kisses your palm.

“We still have now,” he says. You let out a laugh, sniffing back tears.

“How did you even get away?” you ask.

“I’m the Prince of Dragonstone,” he says smugly, “This is my castle, after all.” You laugh gently. After a pause, you stand and wrap your arms around his neck, needing just another second in his. He holds you just as tightly, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your back.

“Thank you for coming,” you whisper.

“Where else would I be?”

You spend most of the day entwined. Neither of you say much, as there isn’t much to say. This fantasy is fast coming to an end.

As the day turns to night and the island cools, you and Jace make a fire in your chambers, and sit close on the couch in the room, wine flowing between the two of you.

“Did Baela say anything to you about what exactly we had done?” he asks, his calloused fingers tracing soft patterns along your wrist. You study his downcast eyes.

“No,” you say, “Nothing specific. Why?”

“When she spoke with me, she alluded to the fact that I had . . . ruined your reputation.”

“Ah,” you say with a nod. Still, his attention is focused on your hands, dancing around each other. “Did you tell her we hadn’t?”

“She didn’t seem to believe me,” he says, “But yes.”

“We know it’s a line we haven’t crossed. If that unburdens our guilty consciences at all.”

“I’m not guilty, Y/N,” he says, “Not really. I’m sorry to have hurt Baela, but my heart never belonged to her. Not in the way it belongs to you now.” You are quiet for a long moment, too long for his thoughts, it seems.

“So, you’ve never thought about it?” he asks, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Ruining yourself. With me,” he adds.

“Of course I’ve thought about it,” you say, smiling at him, “But thinking it and doing it are two very different things.”

“We’ve done other things,” he says. You can hear the strain in his voice. You flip your wrists, playing with the lines of his palm.

“We’ve kissed,” you say. His eyes flick between your eyes and lips. “That act won’t ruin me.”

“Oh no?” he asks, leaning in closer.

“Not more than it already has,” you say, your words on his lips as he kisses you slowly. “Besides,” you say, “It’s not like I haven’t kissed others before.”

“I don’t want to hear about that,” he says, dropping your hand altogether to snake his around your back, closing the minimal gap between the two of you. You curl into his arms as he kisses you again – just as slow, but with more intent, more meaning, behind it. You let him trap you there for a moment longer before breaking away, a hand to his cheek.

“It’s not like you haven’t kissed anyone else,” you say. “You’ve kissed Baela.”

“It’s not the same,” he says lowly.

“Why not?”

“Because I never kissed her like this.” He takes your face in his hands and devastates your mouth with his own. He holds you there while his tongue takes an exploratory, conquering tour of your mouth. You break away with a gasp.

“You still kissed her,” you say.

“Why are we talking about her at all?” he asks with a sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“We’re not,” you say, breaking out of his arms, rising from the chair to refill the wine.

“Right, we were talking about thoughts.”

“Right."

“Tell me about these thoughts of yours,” he says.

“No,” you say with a laugh.

“Why not?” he asks, immediately pulling you closer when you sit down.

“Because I keep those longings locked,” you say.

“In that beautiful mind of yours,” Jace says, smiling as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “Keep those longings anywhere else?” he asks. You let out a breath, smiling at him.

“Here,” you whisper, touching the skin over your racing heart. Jace’s warm eyes are locked on yours as his lips press to your skin. They trail down to your cleavage, leaving soft kisses in a trail.

“Jace,” you say with a sigh.

“Hmm?”

“Thoughts.”

“I’m having a few now," he says.

“Let’s keep them there,” you say, your fingers resting against his temple.

“If they already think we’ve bedded, what’s the harm in actually doing it?” he asks.

“Besides the fact that I would be ruined?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Ruined for who? No one needs to know.”

“Baela and Rhana already think we did, and look how their opinions have changed," you say.

“Your standing with them is the same either way,” he says with a shake of his head, “Whether we do it or not.”

“And what about the man I am to marry?” you ask. Jace’s face falls and he squeezes your hand. “Let’s just stick with thoughts for now,” you say quietly, scooting closer to him.

“What about my thoughts?” he asks. You give him a look and sigh.

“What about your thoughts, Jace?”

“They rarely leave my mind,” he says, looking into your eyes. Just at the intensity in his, you feel your core start to warm. “Especially when I’m in bed, after you’ve left.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re already good at keeping these thoughts in," you say. He rolls his eyes.

“Just because I don’t act on them with you, doesn’t mean I don’t act on them at all,” he says lowly. Your brow scrunches, immediately imagining who he might— “Y/N,” he says, cutting off your train of thought, bringing your gaze to his with a hand to your chin. “I take matters into my own hand.”

“Oh. Oh,” you say, a blush forming on your cheeks.

"Do you ever . . . do anything like that when we part?" he asks. At your intake of breath he smiles. "We don't have to talk about--"

"Yes," you say. His eyes are wide, the tension growing in the silence of the room. "But Jace--"

"I know," he says, a small smile on his face. "Thoughts."

When Jace opens his bedroom door that night, the room behind him is dark, lit only by one candle. He looks tense, his shoulders tight and worry sketched on his brow. He looks as if he needs a release, the same one you desire now, the one that had kept you up.

“Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say. Your eyes glance at his bare chest, and his linger on the thin nightgown you wear.

“What is it?”

"I've been up in my room thinking," you say, making him let out a tut of laughter.

"Sure."

“And I decided I want more than thoughts,” you say breathlessly.

“Oh, thank the gods,” he says, wasting no time to pull you into his room. The door shuts as he presses you up against it, his lips locking onto yours. You moan quietly, the sound muffled in his mouth. He presses his body into yours, making sure you feel how much he has wanted this, needed this.

He drags you into the room, breaking away long enough for you both to catch your breath.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Completely.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Am I?” you ask. He makes a strangled primal sound, tilting his head.

“Y/N, you have no idea,” he says. You smile at him, before putting a hand around the back of his head, pulling him back to your mouth. Where there was urgency before, now that he knows you want this just as much as he does, his movements slow. His kisses are just as passionate, his mouth practically devouring your own, but he moves as if he’s got all the time in the world.

His hands move down your back, catching in the soft fabric you wear. You arch into him, whispering a soft ‘yes’ to a question he hasn’t yet asked. He pulls at the fabric furtively, gripping your waist tightly as he does. He tugs the dress over your head, messing your hair. As the dress drops to the ground, he watches you with hungry eyes.

You miss the feeling of him, his lips and body upon your own, but the way he watches you, never in your life have you felt so beautiful.

The dress folds into a pile at your feet, and you stand bare before him.

“Y/N,” he strains.

“Jace,” you say, moving closer to kiss him again. He moans into the kiss, the movements becoming needier again as he backs you up to his bed. You fall back on it with a bounce, Jace’s eyes never leaving your body. He smiles down at you, laying prone before him. When your eyes flit to the bulge in his pants, his smile grows.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says, positioning himself beside you, his body frustratingly not touching yours. He puts a hand on your bare waist, the movement sending chills across your skin. “All I want to do is bury myself into you,” he says, leaning in to kiss your lips softly. They are there for only a moment, and you whimper when he pulls back.

“Why don’t you, then?” you ask.

“Because I want to savor every moment of tonight,” he says, once again kissing you too quickly. He watches your face, the look you give him for keeping you at bay. He grins proudly as he takes your face in his hand and kisses you in the slow, devastating way he knows you want. Instinctively, your naked body turns into his, as you wrap an arm around his neck. Jace’s hands trail down your body, gripping your ass with a squeeze that makes you gasp into his mouth.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly, breaking away and then kisses you again, so you don’t have time to respond. His mouth moves across your jaw, and you are about to tell him how much you love this, how much you love him, but then his mouth closes sweetly on your neck, and you only let out a moan.

Jace smiles as he turns you onto your back again, his body laying over yours to keep you pinned there. His mouth on your neck is delicate, so much so that it ignites every nerve along your body. As he kisses and nips carefully, his tongue dancing along your skin, you arch your back, pressing into him. He laughs at the movement, his hand gripping your hip.

“Jace,” you gasp.

He moves down your body, his hands cupping your breasts, kneading gently. Needing to touch him in any way possible, your hands run through his hair. When he lowers himself further and puts his soft lips on your breast, you grip his hair, tugging slightly. Jace smiles against your skin.

“I love you,” you say on a gasp. His tongue flicks at your nipple as his eyes meet yours. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can see the love in his eyes.

You are a bundle of nerves, tension gathering at your core. You need him now, but aren’t exactly sure what you need from him. When you moan his name, Jace seems to know. With heavy eyes, you watch him move even further down your body. He spends a long moment just looking at you laid bare in front of him. His perusal isn’t enough; you miss his touch.

“Jace,” you whine, practically breathless.

“Y/N,” he replies, his breath dancing against your core, making you shiver. Jace smiles, grabbing your ankle when you begin to squirm, desperate for contact again. “I told you,” he says, “I want to take my time with you.” The sound that comes out of you is animalistic, filled with frustration and need. Jace laughs at you, placing a kiss to your thigh.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before,” he says. “This frustrated.” He kisses you again, an inch closer to where you need him most. You lift your head to look at him. You’re about to say something snarky when his finger gently separates your folds. Immediately, you gasp, arching as he rubs gently.

Ever so slowly, he does pick up the pace, his forefinger circle the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. During his ministrations, his eyes are on your, watching what action makes you wiggle beneath him, which makes you moan.

“Jace,” you cry out, writhing underneath him. Your breathing is becoming more intense, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Not just yet,” he says. You roll your eyes in frustration, whining again. Jace laughs as his lips meet your center. Your entire body arches into him as his tongue moves against your core. Eyes still locked on you, he devours you. Most of the sounds you make are incoherent, fading into the cacophony of your gasps and the low noises Jace makes.

“Fuck, Jace!” you groan when finally, the tension within you releases. Jace smiles but doesn’t move from in between your legs. He rides out your waves of pleasure, his tongue still doing things that have you forgetting your name. When you’ve come down, you release your grip on Jace’s hair, not even realizing you had grabbed it again. He moves up next to you, kissing you slowly. The tase of you is on his lips, which leaves you feeling some type of possessive nature over him.

“Jace, that was—”

“I know,” he says with a smile. His hairline is sweaty, his hair out of control from your touch. He is so beautiful, and after what he just did for you, you never want to leave this bed, to leave his side. You pull him back to your lips, kissing him fiercely. When he breaks away, he kisses the corner of your jaw. You sigh and notice with increasing delight that he has kicked off his pants, and now fists his cock. Just the sight of it sends liquid to your core.

“Jace.”

“Touch me,” he says against your skin, “Please.” You don’t have any time to be nervous about what you’re doing, so great is your want. When your hand wraps around his cock, Jace moans directly into your ear. The sound gives you confidence. You mimic the motion he was doing to himself, tilting his jaw with a finger, so that you can taste the sounds he makes.

Instinctively, it seems that your bodies move together. He moves over you and the look on his face as you continue to touch him is like nothing you’ve ever seen or felt before.

“I need you,” Jace pants.

“Yes,” you say, just as breathlessly. You drop your hand and Jace lines his cock to your center. He rubs against you, slicking himself on your folds. You whimper slightly, already over sensitized.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” Jace says, his warm eyes meeting yours. You nod, completely trusting him.

When he presses into you, the two of you let out twin cries of pleasure. You grip his shoulders as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you. He moves inside of you slowly, his eyes watching your face in awe.

“Jace,” you say, “Fuck.” He laughs at the curse, something he has never heard from your lips before tonight.

“You are so beautiful,” he says, gripping your waist as he picks up his pace.

“Yeah?” you ask, arching into him.

“You’re perfect,” he says. He grabs hold of your leg, bending it so he can feel you even deeper.

You aren’t sure how you are even breathing, everything that comes out of your mouth is a gasp or moan or his name. He is slowly dissolving that way, too, his movements becoming sloppier, rougher. Every thrust inside of you is another pang of pleasure, but still, the tension builds inside of you.

Jace’s mouth has been savaging your neck and shoulder, but when his breath becomes more strained, he whispers in your ear, “Touch yourself. I want to feel your release.” At that moment, you would have jumped out the window if he told you to. You do as he asks, sliding your hand between your bodies, touching yourself the way he had before.

“Like that?” he asks. Your other hand clings to his back, scraping softly.

“Not as much as I liked your mouth,” you say back. Jace moans into your ear, his pace picking up. You match it, and quickly the two of you cry out as you come around him. Jace’s release fills you as he rests on top of you, his breathing heavy. For a long moment, you stay like that, just catching your breaths, prone in each other’s arms.

When he turns to look at you, you both let out a breathy laugh. You brush back his sweaty curls and kiss him.

“I love you,” you say quietly.

“I love you.” He kisses you once. He pulls out of you, and you breathe in at the loss. Jace looks smug as he flops down beside you. For a little while, you just lay there, cooling down. But then, you don’t want to be away from him for any longer, and curl into his arms. He is sweaty, like you must be, too, but you don’t care as he wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead.

“Let’s never leave this bed,” you say with a sigh, placing a kiss over his beating heart. He meets your gaze with a smile.

“Deal.

There is a goddess in bed next to him. A naked goddess, in his bed. He must have been dreaming.

He had dreamed of this. Dreamed and fantasized about you, late into the night with his hand around his cock.

But the real thing, feeling your body under his, getting to touch you, it turned him on now, just remembering the night before. You shift in your sleep, letting out a soft moan. Jace remembers the sounds you made last night, louder and more fervent in his ear. He remembers the way you arched your back, pressing your breasts into him, your hands on his body, and the taste of you.

Twice the night before, he had taken you, his desire for you still too great after that first time. Now even, you are peacefully asleep on his chest, your long hair laid out on his pillow, and he still cannot stop thinking about kissing you, tasting you, fucking you again.

Last night had not been his first, but it might as well have been. He had never felt like this before. Everything he had ever wanted was in his arms, and he vowed right then that he would do anything to keep you like this.

He knows he has been watching you for too long, but he can’t bring himself to care. You shift in his arms, another delicious hum from your lips. When you say his name, your throat is scratchy.

“Yes?” he asks gently.

“I can feel you staring.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. Your eyes open then, immediately locking onto his. Jace smiles as he puts a hand to your chin, tilting your mouth to meet his. You sigh into the kiss, gently parting his lips, and Jace’s cock responds. He feel like a much younger man, so quickly aroused. You break the kiss first, biting your lip to keep your grin at bay.

“Morning,” you say.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“Wonderfully,” you say, relaxing back into his arms. He pulls you in closer, wanting and needing to feel your body on his.

“How did you sleep?” you ask, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I’m not sure I did.”

“Were you watching me the whole night?” you ask with a laugh.

“So what if I was?” he says, squeezing you playfully.

“I assumed you’d be exhausted after all the activity last night,” you say quietly. Jace smirks as he brings his lips to yours.

“Well, it gave me time to think about everything I want to do this morning.”

“I did, too,” you say, “But I still got some sleep.” You kiss his cheek softly, moving across his skin in a trail of kisses, until you bite on his earlobe. The sound he lets out makes you laugh against his skin, goosebumps appearing.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks breathlessly.

“Something I didn’t get to do last night,” you say, “But I’m not sure I’ll be good at it.” He groans in spite of himself, low in his throat. Your lips meet his in a rougher kiss, a sign that you are fully awake now.

“Y/N,” he says on a breath, pulling back from you.

“I love you,” you say quickly. The sight of his smile makes one grow on your face.

“I love you,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “And there is nothing you can do that I won’t absolutely love.”

“Okay,” you say with a smile. Eyes locked on his, your hand travels down his chest to his cock, already hard for you. “Jace,” you whisper, delight on your face at the expression on his.

“Yes, love?” he asks breathlessly, groaning when your hand slides over the head of his cock.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say softly. He smiles as he starts to say a response, but you kiss him before he can.

“Y/N,” he moans, his eyes closed, his brow sweaty. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Partially. Just – it didn’t feel fair that you got to taste me but I didn’t get to taste ou.” The laugh he lets out is strained. You move upright, kissing Jace once before taking your hand off of him. You kiss down his neck slowly, remembering how he tormented you the night before. His hands grip your body, holding you flush to him, but letting you do what you’d like. You move down his chest, your hands and mouth exploring every inch of his body.

When you move down to his hips, you look up at him with a smirk.

“Let me know if I do anything wrong,” you say, kissing his shaft softly.

“Y/N, you couldn’t.”

“You say that, but—”

“What part of this,” he says, motioning to his cock, “Makes you think I wouldn’t like anything you do?”

“Just . . . thoughts, I guess,” you say with a smile.

“Try,” he says lowly, “And see for yourself just how much I love everything you do.”

“Fine,” you say, and when your mouth closes around him, Jace takes your hair in his hands, his moans loud, and falling closer to his release as he falls completely in love with you.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic

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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 months

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𝒞𝒶𝓅𝓉𝓊𝓇ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒻𝓁𝒶𝑔 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ

Part one

Warnings- smut, mdni, in the woods on the ground, sub! Luke, afab reader, p in v

“What?” He said, dumbfounded at your request.

“If you don’t want to, I can just…” You stood up, beginning to walk away, ignoring his whine when you did.

“Alright! Alright! Okay. Okay.” He said. You turned around with a victorious smile on your face. He laid down, moving his head to lean on the nearest tree. You sat back onto his lap, his hands gripped your hips.

"Please, just fuck me." He mumbled the words quietly, too quiet for your liking. It was embarrassing.

"Louder, honey."

"Stop teasing me, please." He groaned, his problem getting only worse. You shook your head with a laugh and reached to grab your shirt. You pulled it over your head, and you both stood up quickly, taking off your pants.

The horn was sounded, yet you both ignored it as you kissed each other, you pinned him against the tree, the only thing on the both of you was your underwear.

Luke has had sex once, with some girl he had a fling with at a party. Other than that, he’s only kissed.

It was savage, you were like an animal on top of him. He was on the ground, you laid on top and shamelessly grinding your clothed heat against his clothed length.

You were soaked, he realized when he saw the wet spot forming on your panties. His hands were gripping your waist, he bit his lip to keep himself quiet.

Soon after, you pulled down his boxers and pulled your panties to the side. He was big, a lot bigger than you expected and a lot bigger than the guys you’ve been with.

“Jesus..” you mumbled, he had a small smirk on his face when he noticed your reaction.

You grabbed onto his shoulder as you sunk down onto his dock, you both moaning at the same time. You stayed still for a moment, adjusting to him.

You felt full, perfectly full with him inside you. Soon, you started to moved up and down, your pace turned faster, and you both became louder.

His noises were beautiful.

He admired your boobs bouncing up and down, you noticed and moved to grab his hands. You led them to both boobs, where he squished and squeezed them with a smile on his face.

He was close, you could tell by the way he bucked his hips, trying to meet your pace.

“Don’t cum.” You said, he whined and looked up at you, he was struggling to restrain his orgasm. Tears welled in his eyes, he looked up at you as if you were a Goddess, one to worship and praise.

He obeyed however, and you ended his torture not long after when you felt yourself getting close. “Cum for me, baby.” You mumbled, you both came together. He stayed inside of you for a little, you both in pure bliss.

You breathed heavily on top of him, he just stared up at the sky, in shock, confusion, and almost every other emotion.

He softly grabbed your hips again, helping you get off him. He stood up, as you sat down against a tree. He got dressed, pulling his clothes over himself, fixing his disheveled hair and looking at you, confused.

“I can’t..” you mumbled. He smiled, and began to laugh.

“Shut up! You were just begging me to fuck you!”

“Alright, alright. Come on.” He helped you up, and helped you get changed as your legs wobbled. You both walking back to camp.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell smut #percy jackson and the olympians

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quintinh43 · 5 months

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The Best Summer Ever | Quinn Hughes

Summary: First summer at the lakehouse, and it couldn't be better.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None, just some pure sweetness. Part of this universe but can be read on its own!

Wc: 3.6k

As you lounge in the backyard of the lake house, with a book in hand, working on your tan, and Quinn napping beside you, you surmise that coming to Michigan with Quinn for the summer was one of the best decisions you've ever made.

Quinn lays on his stomach, with his head pillowed in the crook of his arms. He hadn't planned to nap, but the two of you had gone on a run along the waterline this morning, and then Quinn had a training session with the boys. He had conked out, less than ten minutes after he had stretched out beside you.

You glance at the time on your phone, Quinn has been asleep for almost an hour. You bookmark your page, deciding it's time to wake him up, before his lovely golden tan turns into a massive sunburn. You flip onto your stomach and delve your fingers into Quinn's hair, gently working through the tangles.

The humidity was doing wonders for his curls, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't absolutely head over heels for summertime Quinn. The tan, the curls, the way his cheeks always seemed to be flushed from heat, the smile that seemed permanently etched into his face. You drop a kiss to his shoulder, and your other hand traces light patterns along his spine.

Pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulders and upper back, your fingers massage his scalp steadily. He makes a low noise of contentment, and you grin against his sun-kissed skin. "Quinn," you murmur against his skin.

He doesn't respond. You press a kiss to the crook of his neck, and he stirs under you. Another behind his ear. And the underside of his jaw.

His chest rumbled with a soft hum, and he nuzzled his head against the crook of his arm with a sleepy sigh. You giggle and pull out your phone to snap a photo of him. He reminds you of a cat napping in the sun.

"Quintin," you mutter against his skin, he gives you a sleepy grunt, "wake up honey," you say softly, carding your fingers through his hair, "if you don't turn over you're going to get a horrid burn on your back," you coax, tugging ever so gently on his curly locks.

Quinn rolls over with a huff. Suddenly his arms are around you and he's pulling you on top of him. You squeal in surprise as he situates you between his legs comfortably, your forearms resting on either side of his head. He squints one eye open, with a glare. Half because you woke him up and half because the sun was so bright.

"Why'd you wake me up?" He huffs.

You snort, detangling yourself from his arms, "Cause you whine like a bitch when you're sunburnt." His jaw drops, and you grin, kissing him on the cheek sweetly.

"I can't believe you just called me a bitch," he gasps, all traces of sleep disappearing from his body.

"I'm just telling the truth," you shrug, a smile playing on your lips. Quinn sits up, pulling your sunglasses off, you squint your eyes, frowning at the sudden brightness.

You screech in alarm, as Quinn is suddenly grabbing you around the waist, holding you tight to his body and walking towards the dock. "Quinn," you gasp "What are you doing?"

"I think someone needs to cool down her attitude a little," Quinn smirks, his tone like he's scolding a child.

"Quinn," there's slight panic in your tone, "please no, I'm sorry" You flail your legs trying to escape his hold before he tosses you into the lake.

"Sorry baby, I can't hear you over my bitchiness," Quinn snarks, nipping at your ear playfully. You yelp, twisting in his hold.

"I didn't mean it, you aren't a bitch, you're the sweetest man to ever exist, you have never been bitchy in your life! You deserve the world and I love you with all my heart!" You ramble, pressing kisses to his face in hopes that he will have mercy.

Quinn is smiling mischievously, "Gotta do better than that baby," he's standing at the edge of the dock.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes!" You warn, wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, "I swear to God if you-" Before you can finish your threat, Quinn is jumping off the dock with you wrapped around him.

The shock of being plunged into cold water after being in the sun for over an hour is brutal. You resist the urge to scream purely because you're underwater and you don't need a mouth full of water.

As your heads break the surface, you gasp for air. Quinn's grin is infectious and you can't help but grin back. "How's the attitude? Cooled off yet?" He asks smirking.

You unwrap your legs from around his waist, kicking them back and forth underwater to help keep the two of you afloat. Your arms wrap around his neck tugging on his now wet hair, "Think I'm still a bit hot," you smile teasingly, pushing on his shoulders to dunk his head under water.

Quinn gasps for air as he goes down. You cackle as he fails to drag you under with him. He comes up, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes, and lunging after you with a grin. You swim away with screeching laughter. You splash Quinn aggressively in an attempt to save yourself.

Suddenly there’s a loud whooping coming from the dock, along with heavy footsteps. Then Jack is cannonballing into the water. Luke follows after him flipping off the dock in a fancy maneuver that briefly leaves your heart in your throat. As soon as their heads break the surface, they grin mischievously. The four of you lose track of time and end up fooling around in the water for hours, splashing, wrestling, racing, and every other possible game you can think of.

By the time Ellen is calling you out of the water to get ready for dinner like a bunch of children, Jack is sporting a wicked sunburn across his nose and cheeks and you and Luke have probably swallowed half of Lake Erie from the amount that Quinn and Jack have been dunking you under water and splashing you in the face.

You hoist yourself onto the dock and offer Quinn a hand to help pull him up, he takes it with a grin and pulls you back into the water with a cackle. You pout at him, as you move your wet hair out of your eyes. Quinn kisses the pout right off your face, and you can’t help but melt into it, locking your arms around his neck and kissing him back.

“Ewwww!” Luke screeches, as he and Jack begin to splash the two of you all over again.

“Children!” Ellen barks, unable to keep the smile off her face, “Out of the water or you will be late for your dinner plans!”

There is a collective grumbling amongst the four of you, but you exit the water nonetheless. This time, Quinn doesn't pull you back into the water, lest he face the wrath of his mother. Ellen and Jim had plans with a few of their friends while Luke and Jack had been invited to have dinner with a few other NHL guys who lived on the lake. Originally, you and Quinn had been invited too, but Quinn had politely declined in favour of taking you out on a good ol’ classy dinner date at the country club.

As bad as you felt about declining the invite, you were excited to have Quinn to yourself for the evening. The only time you and Quinn got a moment alone for yourselves was usually when you were going to sleep, so you were looking forward to this Dinner date.

Quinn wraps a towel over your shoulders as the four of you head up to the house, Jack and Luke sprinting ahead to fight over who gets to use their shower first. “You shower first?” Quinn mutters against your wet hair.

“We could shower together,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively “save some water.” Quinn chuckles, pressing another kiss to your hair fondly, “Trust me, baby, if we shower together, we definitely won’t be saving water.”

You laugh along with him, knowing he’s right, “I’ll be quick,” you assure, stripping out of your swimsuit and stepping under the cool spray of water. You run through your shower steps as quickly as you can and are in and out in ten minutes. While Quinn showers you do your hair and makeup, keeping it simple and sticking to your usual routine for fancier events. As you apply mascara on your lashes, you’re a bit giddy for dinner tonight.

The dress you picked out, was a classy white number that you had been saving for something fancy, and you were excited to finally be able to wear it. And also to see Quinn’s reaction to you in it. He hops out of the shower and is quick to change into a stylish short-sleeved white button-up and a pair of beige slacks.

“Do my hair?” he asks, tipping his head towards you in invitation. You smile, running some hair oil and a bit of curl product through his locks so they are nice and defined, he kisses you on the cheek in thanks, “I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he says stealing one last kiss.

He slips out of the room, and you lock the door behind him as you pull the dress out from the back of the closet. You get dressed, grab your bag and your trusty pair of nude heels, and go exit the room. As soon as you appear at the top of the stairs, Quinn's eyes are drawn to you. His jaw drops, and his eyes soften with love as you fuss over trying to fit your phone in your bag.

You look up to find Quinn staring at you and your cheeks warm. One thing about Quinn is that there is meaning in everything he does. He is purposeful and thorough, and he works hard for what he wants. So when he pins you with that look, you feel loved, purposefully, and wholeheartedly, and damn if that isn't the best feeling ever. You lock eyes with Quinn, and his lips curl into a soft, adoring smile.

Everything else falls away as you descend the stairs. It's just you and Quinn. He makes you feel like a princess, and he is your prince charming waiting at the bottom, hand extended towards you, ready to lead you to your happily ever after.

“Hi,” he whispers as you take his hand, he brushes a gentle kiss on the backs of your knuckles and your stomach flutters.

“Hi,” you smile, staring up at him through your lashes. You thought it would be impossible to love this man even more than you already did, but every day he proves you wrong, “I Love you,” you murmur softly.

“I love you too,” He smiles, and damn if you don't wanna abandon your dinner and spend the night in his arms.

Ellen rounds the corner and is immediately gushing over the two of you, “Oh, just look at you two! Come here I want pictures,” you slip on your heels as she ushers the two of you in front of the mantel, much to Quinn's chagrin.

“Mom please,” Quinn whines, “we’re not kids, and this is not prom,” you snicker at his whining, secretly happy that Ellen is making the two of you take photos.

“You may not be kids, but you're still my children, now pose,” she demands, holding up her phone.

Quinn wraps an arm around your waist and you place a hand on his chest as the two of you smile at his mom's camera. After she snaps probably over a hundred photos Quinn is practically pulling you out of the door, with the boat keys in hand, “better not get me wet,” you warn, as you carefully smooth down your dress.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Quinn chuckles as the boat hums to life. You sit in the seat across from Quinn, legs curled under your chin resting against your hand as you take in the way the dipping sun reflects on the water. The golden halo of sunlight that illuminates you makes you look like an angel. Quinn is absolutely enraptured by your beauty, if he could freeze this moment in time, he would.

The boat ride from the lake house to the country club takes less than twenty minutes, it would have been faster if Quinn wasn't trying to keep the both of you dry. He parks the boat on one of the docks, and hops over the edge of the boat, holding his hand out to you. You take it gratefully, not letting go even when you are safe on solid ground.

So far you've only been to the Country Club during the day when the boys deemed it a golf day, or to play tennis, or grab something easy for lunch before going right back out in the boat. In the early evening, it almost seemed like a completely different place.

You hold onto Quinn's bicep, fingers tapping nervously against corded muscle, as he leads you through the front foyer of the building. Quinn squeezes your hand reassuringly. It's at moments like these that you feel self-conscious about the fact that you're dating a Superstar Captain of the NHL. He could be doing much better than a lowly elementary school teacher.

It's as if Quinn can read your negative thoughts. He looks at you, face soft with concern, nodding his head to ask if you're ok. You give him a tight smile and nod, squeezing his bicep again, as you dispel all the thoughts from your head. Quinn wants you. That's why you're here.

A pretty hostess, dressed from head to toe in black, is quick to find you. “Do you have a reservation?” she asks professionally.

“Yep,” Quinn answers with a polite smile, “It should be under Hughes,”

The hostess clicks a few times on her iPad, and her eyes light up as she clocks in Quinn's reservation, “Right this way please,” she leads you through The main dining room, up a set of stairs and out onto the rooftop patio with the most magnificent view of the lake. “Someone will be right with you,” she smiles.

“Thank you,” you and Quinn say simultaneously. He pulls out your chair, and you smile at him, smoothing your dress out as you sit down.

“Quinn, this is so beautiful,” you gasp, taking in the view.

“Yeah it is,” he says smirking. His eyes are locked on you, and when you notice your cheeks flush.

“You're so cheesy,” you mumble, picking at a loose thread in your napkin.

“You love it,” Quinn smirks.

At that moment a Waiter appears, offering the two of you menus, and asking what you would like to drink. Quinn orders some kind of expensive wine, and the waiter leaves to retrieve it and give you time to look over your menus. It's much fancier than you're used to, and it's a little overwhelming, but Quinn happily takes charge, keeping a comforting hand on your thigh under the table.

Once the food is ordered and you both have a few glasses of wine in your system everything feels much easier. Along the way, your heels got discarded under the table, and your bare foot was resting on Quinn's thigh, rubbing up and down teasingly.

Your foot strays a bit too high and Quinn wraps a hand around your ankle, stopping your foot from moving any closer to his dick. He throws you a dark, lust-filled look that holds a promise for later, and you smirk at him teasingly. All in all, the dinner was absolutely amazing. The food was delicious and you were absolutely elated to have Quinn to yourself for a few hours.

“Wanna go for a walk on the beach?” Quinn asks as the two of you leave the restaurant hand in hand. The sun is just dipping below the horizon, casting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, pink and purple.

“Absolutely I do,” you grin, hanging into his arm. The two of you deposit your shoes in the boat and walk along the waterline. Quinn has an arm draped over your shoulder, and yours is wrapped around his waist fingers dancing under his shirt and across the bare skin of his torso. You lean your head on his shoulder and his fingers draw patterns on your arm. You wish you could burn this moment into permanence.

“I can't wait to do this with you every summer,” you say quietly, afraid to disrupt the peace of the moment. Quinn pulls his arm from your shoulders, it takes you a few steps to realize he isn't walking, and when you turn to see what's wrong, your hands fly to your mouth with a gasp.

Quinn is down on one knee, with a ring box open in his hands. Somehow the only thing you can think is that his pants are going to get dirty from kneeling in the damp sand.

“Your pants are going to get dirty,” you croak, voice thick with emotion. Quinn chuckles, shaking his head fondly.

“Y/n,” he starts, with a soft breath, “I know we've technically only been dating for a few months. But for as long as I've known you I knew I wanted to do forever with you.” he takes a shaky breath “Honestly, I had a whole speech written, but you look so angelic in the sunset that it all left my brain.”

You let out a choked giggle, as tears pool in the corner of your eyes. You kneel down in front of him, resting your shaky hands on his knee.

“Your dress is gonna get dirty” Quinn parrots, and it's your turn to laugh at him.

Quinn takes another deep breath, brushing a stray tear off your cheek. “Y/n, from the moment I met you, I knew you would be special to me. Knowing you for the past six years of my life has been the greatest blessing that I could've asked for. The easiest thing I've ever done in my life is love you, and god- there aren't words to describe how much I love you and what you mean to me. I want to spend forever with you by my side.” The tears that decorate the rims of Quinn’s eyes finally spill over, “So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the greatest honour in being my wife?”

An ugly sob escapes your lips and you throw your arms around his neck, “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes,” you cry, pressing kisses to his face, there is salt on your lips and at this point, you aren't sure if they are your tears or his. Quinn finds your left hand and slips the ring onto your fourth finger. You take a minute to really look at it, and all of a sudden, you're crying all over again. It's everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

You throw your arms around Quinn again, dragging him down for a kiss, he holds you tight to his body, kissing you back like it's the last time he'll ever get to do so. As Quinn licks at the seam of your lips, something in the back of your mind reminds you that you're in public, but you can't bring yourself to care enough to stop kissing him.

The clicking of a camera accompanied by sniffling is what drags you out of your moment with Quinn. You look over to find Jack and Luke. Jack holding up his old camera from back when he had a hobby in photography and Luke holding up his phone. They're both teary-eyed with huge smiles on their faces.

Quinn stands, pulling you with him, and then Luke and Jack are throwing themselves at the two of you, and everyone is holding onto each other. There are so many tears it's hard to tell who's crying and who's not. Eventually Jack and Luke detach themselves from the two of you, wiping at their eyes and grinning wildly.

“I can't believe you said yes to spending the rest of your life with our stinky big brother,” Luke wrinkles his nose.

“Shut it, Moose,” Quinn rolls his eyes, pushing his brother playfully.

“I know you said yes, but it's not too late to blink twice if you need help,” Jack says seriously.

You laugh, knowing they are joking, but nothing could pry you from Quinn at this moment. Jack convinces the two of you to pose for a few more pictures, in the fading twilight. He captures a few absolutely stunning ones of your ring, promising that everything will be sent to you after he edits them. Eventually the four of you part ways, Jack and Luke heading to their car and you and Quinn back to the boat.

The drive back to the lake house is much chiller now that the sun is almost entirely gone. Quinn smiles knowingly, pulling a hoodie out of one of the seat compartments. You slip it over your head, sighing happily as the scent of Quinn engulfs you. He pulls you into his lap, keeping an arm securely around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your head against the crook of his neck.

“I love you so so much Quinny,” you whisper, “I'm excited to spend forever with you,”

“Me too, my love, me too” Quinn sighs happily, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

A sudden thought hits you, and the biggest smile blooms on your face, "I can't wait to be Mrs. Hughes," you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Quinns eyes twinkle lovingly, "That has a nice ring to it,"

"Yeah,"

Ok idk how I feel about this!

I started it and I loved it. Then I wrote the middle and I still loved it. And then I wrote the end, and I still loved it. And now that I have to post it I fucking hate it! So that's nice!

Anyways hope yall enjoy.

Leave comments cause I'm an attention whore 🥰

Also, this series likely won't be updated for a while, cause I never originally planned to make it a series anyways, but here we are! Just cause I have a lot of one-shots floating around in my notes that I wanna work on. If there's anything yall wanna see from this series, let me know and I might write that!

Also, I am working on those blurb requests! I promise! I'll start posting them eventually!

Apologies for the ramble, love yall <3

#quinn hughes #qh43 #hughes brothers #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #captain quinn #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl blurb #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #loving you is as easy as abc 123 #idk how i feel about this so i nesd yall to hype me up

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