#forty quinn x reader

[theharddeck]

do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone. 

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit. 

But. 

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app. 

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do. 

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play. 

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones. 

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena. 

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you. 

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy. 

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer. 

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter. 

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering. 

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.  

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip. 

Why did guys in real life never moan? 

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure. 

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low. 

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only. 

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you. 

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste? 

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy,  acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin. 

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.” 

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his. 

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?” 

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper. 

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you. 

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper. 

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him. 

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?” 

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds. 

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you. 

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you. 

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly. 

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl. 

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy. 

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?” 

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against. 

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded. 

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.” 

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect. 

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there. 

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow. 

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.  

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. 

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear. 

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set. 

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you. 

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door. 

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time. 

Some might even say, with a pep in your step. 

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed. 

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat. 

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly. 

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on. 

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing). 

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person. 

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets. 

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration. 

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. 

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. 

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise. 

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. 

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago. 

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.” 

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock. 

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms. 

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it). 

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal. 

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before?? 

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot. 

A knock on your door startled you. 

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically. 

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door. 

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused. 

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. 

He looked the same. 

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you. 

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills. 

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them. 

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral. 

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away. 

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse. 

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room. 

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced. 

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t. 

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room. 

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again. 

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it. 

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep. 

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react. 

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation. 

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again. 

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you. 

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly. 

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him. 

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob. 

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway. 

Of course he did. 

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. 

Objectively, Bob was the best. 

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. 

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you. 

He pushed himself off the bed. 

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either. 

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay. 

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it. 

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question. 

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break. 

You kissed him. 

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer. 

He was so soft. 

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him. 

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention. 

“Can I show you?” you asked. 

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry. 

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely. 

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous. 

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him. 

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard. 

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.  

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on. 

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze. 

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently. 

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you. 

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually. 

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked. 

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob. 

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered. 

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them. 

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett. 

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard. 

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need. 

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch. 

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission. 

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations. 

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing. 

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing. 

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it. 

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric. 

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob. 

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again. 

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob. 

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering. 

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob. 

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking. 

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did. 

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled. 

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him. 

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.” 

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him. 

It was better with him. 

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing. 

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good. 

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there. 

You felt like you were floating. 

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him. 

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he? 

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life. 

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right. 

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips. 

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you. 

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself. 

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner. 

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin. 

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin. 

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned. 

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.” 

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had. 

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless. 

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered. 

He wasn’t done, either. 

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…” 

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses. 

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man. 

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace. 

You loved the feeling of his skin. 

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you. 

Fuck. 

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders. 

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric. 

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. 

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him. 

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick. 

Holy. Shit. 

He looked like a work of art. 

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big. 

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl. 

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky. 

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat. 

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again. 

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it. 

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact. 

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you. 

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him. 

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them. 

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking. 

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster. 

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much. 

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly. 

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. 

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you. 

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more. 

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn. 

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect. 

Fuck, he felt so good. 

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon. 

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked. 

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.  

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.  

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything. 

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop. 

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.  

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying. 

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core. 

He knew, somehow. 

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising. 

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…” 

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him. 

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back. 

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop. 

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant. 

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him. 

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips. 

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you. 

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you. 

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips. 

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher. 

And then. 

And then he got close. 

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you. 

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it. 

When you came back, you were on your side. 

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.  

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction. 

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

//

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

[snowvies]

Mr. Badgley

Penn Badgley x Fem!Reader

summary: you can't stop thinking about your married piano teacher, Mr. Badgley. and one day he slides under the instrument to show you how much he's been thinking about you too.

wc: 1k

cw: age gap (reader 19, Penn late thirties), cheating, piano teacher x student, pussy eating, fingering, female masturbation

Sundays are your favorite days, especially ones like this when the clouds hang low with a murky swirl in the sky. You're nineteen, and college is kicking your ass but you promised yourself you wouldn't think about the papers due when you're here, at Mr. Badgley's house.

You found his ad on craigslist, piano lessons..fifty bucks an hour you would've scrolled past it until you saw him, and his family. You felt safer in a random man's house when his wife and newborn baby were in the same room with you. So you started going there, ever since your freshman year.

Your raggedy car rolllsss to stop and you get out to see the lonely house, picked apart to be perfect, not a single thing out of place... except yourself.

His wife answers the door a few minutes after knocking, the cold biting your bare legs as you run in for warmth, completely missing her scowl at your lack of kicking the mat with your dirty boots.

Mr. Badgley offers you a warm smile, hair combed perfectly, sweater ironed and pants straight like every weekend. His eyes always look a little empty when you come. His wife jingles her keys around her finger as she readjusts the baby on her hip

"I'm going out, be done when I'm home" the same line. Every week. You smile her way but she doesn't pay mind to it, leaving you and her husband to play. you turn to Mr. Badgley but he's already walking to the connecting living room of the tiny house, sitting on the worn bench as he slides the fallboard up.

You sit next to him as he wears an excited smile, when he's like this, playing with you, it doesn't seem orchestrated by his wife. Every move he makes is analyzed by her, except this. The only reason he's allowed to do this is because they needed the extra money.

"Let's start where we left off last week, yes?" he asked and you nodded, you inhaled the mixture of musk and old books that surrounded the pianist as he began the background cords. his eyes are on you, they shine as his spine relaxes into the music and you begin your part. fingers dancing over keys as you try to remember the pattern

Your eyes squeezed shut once you messed the keys up. He smiles softly and lets a laugh out of his nose at your reaction

"Like this," his larger palm rests on top of yours as he guides your fingers, you nod and try again.

Soon enough an hour passes and you both rise from the bench and you dig into your purse for the fifty bucks you crumpled into it this morning, but, warm hands slide on top of your shoulder and the older man shakes his head.

"No need" he grins and tries to send you off but you insist, grabbing the money but he pushes you out the door.

"I will not have you pay for something that I enjoy just as much, Y/n, have a lovely week" The door softly shuts and you're left stunned.

.

You roll around your dorm bed, restless as the man's words keep ringing in your head. Why didn't he let you pay?

Maybe you're being dramatic. But it isn't like the Badgleys are set either.

You shut your eyes in a huff, suffocating yourself in the pillow under you as you replay the keys in an attempt to lull you asleep

But it isn't just the keys you're thinking about...

It's how his hand guided yours, it's how he looked at you when it was your part to play, it's his scent, it's his being. It's driving you mad.

You arch your back slowly, fingers sliding down your body until you get to your aching core. slick-filled fingers rubbing yourself at the thought of your teacher's hands touching you, grabbing you, loving you.

You moan into the pillow, legs shaking as you cream around your fingers, the thought of him drives you wild.

So just how will you act the next time you see him?

.

Before you know it, it's Sunday and you're back at the Badgleys, with his wife announcing her departure and the formal greetings of you and your teacher, you're back at that bench, side by side.

He starts the cords, and you follow trying to calm your shaking legs as you think about what fueled you that night. You couldn't even look him in the eyes this session.

His hand softly squeezes your bare thigh and you look back at the man.

"You're completely off" he informs you and you don't think your face could get redder.

"I-I'm so sorry...let's try again" you panic but his thumb rubs loving circles on your flesh.

"You usually think the world ends when you mess up, but you kept playing this time, you're mind is somewhere else Ms. Y/n."

"Sorry Mr. Badgley" you murmur

"Talk to me, get it off your chest so we can get back to playing" he smiles and you nod slowly

"...Why didn't you let me pay last time?" you ask, he stops for a moment as the hand on your thigh now rests on his face as he thinks for a moment.

"I just feel like, something so pleasurable shouldn't be bought," he says above a whisper and you feel your entire face glow, and he must have noticed with how he laughs.

"Not those pleasures, Ms. Y/n" he smiles and you don't think you've ever been so embarrassed. But when his laughter stops, his eyes swirl softly into something darker, in that moment you feel exposed to every thought as he eyes you.

He stands, hands finding your shoulders

"Keep playing"

You take a shaky breath as your thighs begin to shake once more, fingers finding the keys as you start the song

"Good," he whispers, his scents overwhelming you now as you feel almost dizzy while playing, you barely notice how he slips under the piano.

"Mr. Badgley, what are you doing?" you gasp as his dark brown eyes gaze up at you

"Keep.playing" he says sternly, and with a swallow, you keep going

He kisses your knees and you feel yourself sticking to your panties as he spreads them apart.

He has a wife. He has a kid. What are you doing?

"You're doing great" he huffs, kissing your thighs, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as his fingers dance up to your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, your wetness sticking to the fabric before they are lost in his pockets

Your bare pussy is in front of your teacher's face as he rubs up and down your thighs taking a shaky breath in

You slam the keys as his tongue licks up your pussy, he moans into you before forcing you to scoot closer into his face, his hands wrapping around your ass as he slurps and moans at your cunt.

"Mr.- fuck" you cry, hands climbing to try and stop your moans as your hips buck up to hump his face

"You taste so so good" he groans, making out with your pussy as he sucks at your clit just to tongue fuck your hole

Hot tears flow down your face as he stares up at you, watching you come undone for him.

You shake around him, orgasm approaching closer with every lick, he sucks on your slit before adding a long finger to your hole. You throw your head back as he fingers you, flicking his tongue relentlessly as his finger curls inside you.

You feel him whine and moan against your pussy, and when you look down you see him gripping and grabbing at his hard-on as he eats you out. You cry as that sends you over and you cum around his finger

You're panting as he curls his fingers a few more times before shoving it into his mouth and licking you clean, you're shaking and wide-eyed as hair sticks to your face and he crawls out from under the piano

Right, weren't you two supposed to be playing right now? Isn't his wife about to be home and he's sucking his fingers because they still taste like you?

He helps you off the bench and you stare into the stained cushion but he turns your chin to him before kissing you deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue before breaking it off with a simple

"My wife is on her way...see you in our next session Ms. Y/n"

And you can't wait for next Sunday.

an: lmk how obvious it is idk anything about pianos. This is based on a dream I had last night 😵‍💫🖤 I hope you liked it <333

[s1mpforeveryone]

im gonna need skme more forty quinn fics. i feel like he's so underrated, i loved him so much though

[withwritersblock]

Blowing Smoke

~Blowing Smoke by Gracie Abrams~

Author's Note: requested! italics are flashbacks and how i met your mother is literally my favorite show of all time so when I saw this request nearly passed out. Summary: Quinn and Y/N have a complicated friends with "benefits" situation Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 4,136 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

She sat down in the bar booth beside Quinn a groan leaving her lips. Kasey and Michael looked towards her suspiciously while Quinn was already watching her sit down. Frankie was off flirting with some girl in the bar, leaving the extra chair empty. 

“Hey honey, what’s wrong?” Kasey asked as she slid the small scotch glass towards her. Y/N immediately took a hold of it and chugged it. Quinn’s eyes widened as he watched her drink the whole thing. Michael tried to hide his smirk while he brought his own beer towards his lips.

“I hate my job,” she let out as she fought the burn of the scotch down her throat. “I swear I’m never having kids because of this job,” she slammed the glass down onto the table.

Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards his body. She rested her head onto his shoulder. Her lips fell into a pout as she met Kasey’s gaze. “What happened today?” Kasey asked.

The pair worked together for the last three years and is the whole reason why they in this booth together. Y/N was new to the area and needed a group of people to be with. Kasey was the only other person less than forty at the elementary school they taught at. 

“Three of my students got into a brawl and I got brought into the principal’s office,” she explained as she lifted her head from Quinn’s shoulder. She looked into his eye for a moment. 

Quinn cringed as he slide his drink towards her, “Maybe you need this a bit more than me,” he let out as he shifted his gaze towards around the bar. She gladly took a hold of it and chugged the remainder of the drink. She let out a hushed groan as she shook her head. “I’ll go get us another round,” Quinn offered as he stood up from the booth, tapping his hand against the table.

“You’re going to love them, it’s going to be a great group,” Kasey let out as she guided her inside the bar, the bar her and her friends hang at nearly every other night. Kasey began to guide them towards the group of three guys sitting in a booth that they seemed quite comfortable in.

Y/N held back looking towards the guy she hooked up with two weeks ago. Hooked up was a strong word but they had a lengthy make out and a romantic evening on a rooftop. He was looking at her with so much love for someone who was on a first date. She wasn’t looking for anything serious but by the way he was looking at her and kissing her; he was. She told him that she wanted it to be a one time thing and he listened and they haven’t spoken since.

“You okay?” Kasey asked as she spun around. Y/N blinked rapidly as she looked towards the three guys again.

“Those are your friends?” Y/N asked quietly. Kasey nodded, a small grin on her lips. 

“Oh god, did you hook up with Frankie? I’m so sorry-he’s-I don’t actually know why we’re friends with him,” Kasey explained while shaking her head.

“What about him?” she asked, her gaze on Quinn. Kasey followed her line of sight and her eyes widened. 

“Oh Quinn? Are you a Canucks fan? Of course you are, you’re from Vancouver-he’s harmless,” she ranted.

“No, I mean yes but we sort of-had a night together a few weeks ago. I don’t want to make this awkward, thank you for inviting me-I think I’ll just-”

“No, stay! Come on, there’s so much testosterone over there, I need someone to balance it out! Come on, he won’t make it weird,” she took a hold of Y/N’s arm and dragged her towards the table.

“I’m worried, I’ll make it weird,” she mumbled. Kasey chuckled as she walked towards the booth.

Quinn lifted his gaze and met her eye, he smirked as he squinted his eyes slightly as he brought the beer towards his lips fighting the grin. 

“Frankie, get up and get a chair,” Kasey asked, smacking her hand against his upper back.

“What? Why do I ha-” Frankie argued but Kasey smacked her hand against his back again before he stood up and walked away to get a chair. Kasey’s fiance moved and sat beside Quinn, letting the girls sit beside one another. 

“Boys this is Y/N, we work together and she is my newly found best friend so you better be nice and behave because I would like her to stick around,” Kasey said waving a finger between Quinn and Frankie, her finger staying pointed towards Frankie a little longer than Quinn.

Y/N smiled softly towards them before she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. “I’m going to go grab a drink,” she let out as she slipped out of the booth seat.

“I’ll join ya,” Quinn let out as he smiled towards Kasey, almost mockingly. 

“Behave,” Kasey whispered loudly. 

Y/N walked towards the bar, smiling towards the bartender ordering an espresso martini. Quinn leaned against the bartop, smiling towards her. She pursed her lips forward, keeping her gaze on the bartender, watching him make the drink.

“So have you changed your mind then?” he asked as he leaned his head into his hand. Turning her head, she met his eye fighting a grin forming to her lips.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Kasey when I agreed to hang out with her friends tonight,” she explained as the espresso martini was placed in front of her. Quinn gestured towards the bartender to put it on his tab. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked into his eye.

“It’s my night for the tab,” he mumbled. The bartender placed a beer in front of him. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled as she brought the drink towards her lips, taking a small sip. “Are you okay with this?” she asked while glancing towards the table. Quinn looked into her eyes, almost searching for something.

“Yeah,” he said quite confidently, almost nervous. “As long as you don’t sleep with Frankie. You’ll be the third friend of Kasey’s to stop hanging out with us because of him,”

“Noted,” she let out laughing as the pair returned to their booth.

“I’m gonna get fired,” she let out as she rested her head into hands.

“They won’t fire you,” Kasey said as she rested her head onto Michael’s shoulder. “We’re in a teacher shortage, you know that,” she teased. Y/N rolled her eyes playful as she turned her gaze towards Quinn and a short blonde talking at the bar. He was flirting, she could tell by the way he was leaning against the bartop.

Her mood was already in the dumps but it was getting worse the more she was watching him flirt with a girl, he probably doesn’t even know the name off. Frankie stood behind the blonde, holding up a thumbs up towards Quinn. 

She felt the oxygen in her body dissipate as she continued to watch him talk with the girl. Their drinks were sitting on a tray in front of him but he was not attempting on bringing them over towards them.

Kasey turned around, “Oi Huggy bring me my beer!” she shouted. Quinn shifted his gaze towards the group, he began chuckling before he took the tray cautiously and began walking towards his booth table. The blonde girl huffed before she wandered towards a different corner in the bar.

“What if that was my future wife, Kase, you could’ve just ruined that,” Quinn expressed as he delicately placed the drinks down in front of them. He slammed the tray against his side as he looked into Kasey’s eyes.

“Sure Quinn, the girl with her tongue down Frank’s throat is your future wife. Sit,” she expressed. He spun his head around to see the blonde making out with Frankie against the bartop. Quinn laughed awkwardly as he left the tray on an empty table before he plopped back down beside Y/N. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her towards him.She rested her head onto his shoulder as she took a deep breath.

It was a common routine between herself and Quinn. If she was asked about her feelings towards Quinn three years ago, she would say it was merely attraction, but now she was not so sure. There was a handful of nights over the years that reflected the first night they met. It never went past a sleezy make out with their clothes on. It always ended with them cuddling and falling asleep in each others arms.

She brought her espresso martini towards her lips, taking a tiny sip before she rested her head back onto Quinn’s shoulder. He ran his hand up and down her arm. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

Michael and Kasey shared a glance before they awkwardly brought their beers to their lips. Frankie soon took a hold of the empty chair, spinning it around as he sat down. “Look what I got!” he sang as he showed a napkin with the blonde’s number on it. 

He spun it around, “Vanessa,” he sang before he ripped the napkin and let it fall to the floor. “Quinny, she wanted me to give it to but I guess I lost the napkin,” he teased as he smirked before he brought his scotch towards his lips. Quinn rolled his eyes as he pulled his phone from his pocket to see a text from his younger brother Jack. He pulled his arm away from Y/N as he began to reply.

~~~

She was laying on the couch, her feet draped over Kasey’s lap as they were both scrolling through their phones. Michael and Frankie were in front of them attempting to get a new high score on Just Dance. Quinn was pacing back and forth adjusting his collar and running his fingers through his hair repeatedly. 

“My hair look okay?” he stopped behind the couch, looking down towards Y/N. She pulled the phone away from her face, looking up towards him, she hummed before she returned her gaze back to her phone. “You wouldn’t lie to me right?” he pressed further. 

“Quinn, it looks good,” she let out a chuckle leaving her lips. He nodded before he walked back towards the bathroom.

Despite being the captain of the Canucks, money everywhere at his disposal, but he still lived with his first ever roommate in Vancouver. It was only a few seconds before he stepped out of the bathroom holding two bottles of cologne. “Y/N, which one is better?” 

He held both bottles in front of her face, rolling her eyes playfully she leaned up and smelled both bottles. She smiled after she looked at the blue glass bottle, “That one,” she muttered. He smiled as he sprayed a few across his entire body. 

“You’re the best, Y/N!” Quinn said while jogging away. Y/N nodded as she raised her eyebrows while trying not to laugh. 

“What’s the name of this one?” Michael asked loudly while panting as the song finished. Frankie clapped his hands together while pointing his finger guns towards Michael, “Start it again,” he forced out.

Frankie started the game again, “Your funeral Atkins,” Frankie said completely normal, no sense of being out of breath.

Quinn remerged adjusting his collar, “Her name is Josephine and we met at that coffee place down the street. She has no idea who I am, which is great,”

“Doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Y/N mumbled, getting a laugh from Kasey. 

“It’s not because this could be it guys! I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” He let out as he continued walking towards the door. “I’ll be back!” he sing-songed before he stepped out of the apartment. Y/N shook her head while she kept her gaze on her phone.

Kasey delicately tapped her hands against Y/N’s thigh. She lifted her gaze from her phone to meet Kasey’s gaze. “Are you okay?” Kasey asked softly. Y/N blinked a few times before shaking her head slightly.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kasey pouted her lips. 

“I’m fine,”

Kasey leaned towards her, practically getting on top of her, “The love of your life just walked out the door on a date with another woman,” Kasey whispered. 

“He’s hardly the love of my life,” she shot back quietly while looking into Kasey’s eyes. “I don’t have any feelings,” Y/N expressed. Kasey huffed and stood up from the couch, dodging Michael and Frankie in the process. She walked around towards the back of the couch. 

Kasey motioned towards her to follow her. Y/N reluctantly stood up from the couch, Michael nearly smacked her in the head. “Damn, Y/N, you know not to get in the way of Mikey and Gaga,” Frankie joked as she stumbled away from the pair.

“Alright, we’re going to head home, Quinn are you coming?” Kasey asked as she started to climb out of the booth. Michael started to slide out too. Quinn shook his head as he brought his water towards his lips.

“I’ll head back in a bit,” he mumbled. Michael and Kasey smiled towards him before they started walking out of the bar. Quinn’s gaze followed Frankie who was busy chatting up a red haired girl that was definitely way out of his league. She seemed interested enough.

Quinn lifted his gaze to see Kasey talking with Y/N for a moment before her and Michael walked out of the bar. Y/N didn’t need to look through the bar to find Quinn. They sat at the same booth every time they were there. Which was nearly every night. They would only drink two nights they were there but it was their hangout spot. 

She pouted her lips slightly as she slide into the booth, the same side as Quinn. 

“Why is it every time you come here you have a pout on your lips,” Quinn teased as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Y/N rested her head onto his shoulder, he ran his hand up and down her arm. 

“It’s not every time,” she mumbled fighting the grin on her lips.

Quinn’s face scrunched while smirking, “It’s almost every time.” He leaned his head against hers as he stared blankly ahead. 

“Well you… guys always make me feel better,” she mumbled. Quinn smiled to himself before he leaned towards her, pressing his lips to the top of her head for a second. 

After a few seconds she lifted her head to meet his eye. His hand glided up her arm, running through her hair as he took a hold of her neck. “What are you doing, Quinn?” she asked softly as she rested her forehead against his. Their hearts were beating out of their chest as they felt like they were in their own little bubble. 

“Quinn,” she mumbled before he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her. She hummed against his lips as she took a hold of his t-shirt, tugging it slightly. 

“You have an apartment upstairs, we should head to your apartment upstairs,” he mumbled against her lips. She giggled.

“Let’s go to my apartment upstairs,” she teased as she slowly glided out of the booth, holding out her hand for him. He gladly took a hold of it as she guided him towards the exit of the bar.

“Oh yeah!” Frankie shouted as he saw them walking out together. 

Once they were upstairs, her small studio apartment was always there “secret” spot together. She shut the door and twisted the lock as she pressed her back against the door. He stood in front of her, shyly shoving his hands into his pockets.

She reached her hands up and delicately took a hold of the base of his neck. She dragged her thumbs across his skin as she looked into his eyes He pressed his lips together as he scanned her features. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked as she tilted her head back against the door. 

He smirked as he inched towards her, “I’m not thinking,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her devouring her lips.

Kasey took a hold Y/N’s arm and guided her towards her bedroom, to talk without the boys hearing. Not that they were listening much anyway. “Frankie said that you two left the bar the other night holding hands and that he saw you guys be all close and cuddly,” Kasey whispered excitedly as she forced Y/N to sit down onto her bed.

Rolling her eyes she pursed her lips forward. “It’s not like we had sex,” she mumbled. 

Kasey let out a dramatica groan as she sat beside Y/N yet she also laid onto her back. Kasey pretended to punch the ceiling. “So you’re completely okay with making out with him and then watching him go on a string of first dates pretending to find the one. When we all know the one is you,” she explained while dramatically using her hands to make her point. 

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N let out barely above a whisper as she laid on her back, following Kasey in pursuit. 

“Do you have feelings for him?” she asked as she turned her head to meet Y/N’s gaze. 

She didn’t want to say yes. She knew that Quinn was special from the moment that she met him but she wasn’t ready. Still didn’t feel totally ready. Because what does being ready even mean?

“I’ll take your silence as a declaration of love,” Kasey teased. 

“It’s not, it’s an I don’t know,” she muttered. 

~~~

It had been a month since Quinn’s gone on any date. Josephine ended up being a huge Canucks fan and wanted nothing more than to be involved with the captain. Quinn swore off dating after that, he was honestly terrified of the stalking that came with girls like that. 

Quinn stumbled into the apartment after a win by the Canucks where he had the game winning goal. Despite his friends having season tickets that Quinn paid eighty percent for because they insisted on contributing; they didn’t end up going to the game that night. 

Kasey stumbled out of the bedroom, her pajamas covering her frame. She threw her hands to the side, “Why do you insist on playing good when we don’t go? That’s so unfair,” she let out somewhat jokingly. She jogged towards him, pulling into a tight bear hug. 

“Then you guys need to start coming to every game,” he muttered as he chuckled. His eyes scanned the apartment, furrowing his eyebrows. “No, Y/N or Frank?” he asked softly. 

“They went out to a club or something, said that they were going to be each other’s wingman,” Kasey said, somewhat instigating. Quinn’s eyes widened as he nodded, he ran his hand across his chin.

“They went-like- together?” Quinn asked softly, meeting Kasey’s gaze. She nodded slowly, fighting the grin forming to her lips. “Cool, that’s cool.”

“One more time and I’ll believe you,” she muttered, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s cool,” he let out. She smirked as she started stepping back towards her bedroom.

“Okay, goodnight Quinn,” she teased before she slipped back into her room. Quinn nodded before he slowly walked towards his bedroom, directly opposite of Kasey and Michael’s room.

He stepped inside of his room and every hit he took during the game suddenly overtook his body. His entire frame felt battered and bruised. He took in a shaky breath as he took a hold of the hoodie on his frame, he pulled it away from his body, tossing it towards the corner of his room. 

He walked towards the small mirror hanging above his dresser, taking note of the redden and bruising jagged spot on his ribs. Clenching his jaw, he delicately ran his fingers across the top of the skin. He sighed as his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw that Y/N was calling him. 

Quinn lifted it up and brought it towards his ear, answering it. “Y/N, you alright?” he asked.

“Can I come in?” she asked softly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he felt his heart jump into his throat.

“You have a key to our place,” Quinn offered as he took in a deep breath. 

“Not what I meant,” she mumbled. He pressed his lips together as he fought a grin forming to his lips. He reached for the door and pulled it open. They both still had the phone up to their ears. He was the first to slowly pull it away from his ear, he quickly ended the call as he placed it onto the shelf beside him. 

She slowly pulled her phone from her ear, smiling softly. Her body was covered in a tight red dress and her hair was pulled awy from her neck. He scanned her frame. 

“Are you drunk?” he asked softly as he stepped back into the room. She took that as an invitation and stepped inside. Swinging the door shut, it closed quietly. 

“It’s Wednesday, I don’t drink on school nights,” she said with a grin toying to her lips.

“What are you doing here then?” he asked barely above a whisper, a small grin on his lips. 

“I am not sure,” she mumbled as she let out a sudden breath. Quinn bit his bottom lip as he took a hold of her waist as he cautiously pushed her against the door. She let out a small gasp as her eyes widened slightly. Her eyes lowered towards his frame, taking note of his bruising frame. “Oh my god,” she muttered as she delicately traced her fingertips across his bruises.

“It’s not that bad,” he said while holding his breath. She tilted her head to the side while staring into his eyes. He nodded as he stepped back.

“Got my ass handed to me tonight,” he muttered. She chuckled as she watched him sit down onto his bed. She chuckled as she walked towards him. His gaze followed her intently.

“I can make you feel better,” she mumbled. He smirked as he scanned her frame.

“How do you plan on doing that?” he asked as he leaned back on his hands. She stood in front of him, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper. She took a hold of his cheeks, lifting his head up. 

“I’m gonna-” she muttered before she leaned towards him kissing him desperately, almost as if they’ve never kissed before. He reached his hands towards her, taking a hold of her waist as he pulled her towards him. 

Her fingertips began to run through his hair as they began to devour each others lips. She slowly climbed onto his lap as his hands took a hold of her thighs. His fingertips glided along her skin as he slowly ran his hands higher and higher up her frame. She pulled her lips away from his as she pressed her forehead against his.

“I’m gonna say it,” she mumbled before she pressed her lips against his again. He hummed against her lips before he tilted his head back, slowly opening his eyes. She met his gaze as she continued to slowly run her fingers through the ends of his hair. 

“I’m waiting,” he let out teasingly before he pecked her lips.

“You know this is really hard for me right,” she muttered. He smirked before he took a hold of her thighs, and tossed her onto the bed. Her eyes widened as he started to climb on top of her. Scanning her features, he leaned down and delicately pressed his lips against her cheek.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, he brushed his lips against her ear, “But I need you to say it.” he pulled back and met her gaze. She rolled her eyes playfully before squeezing her eyes shut.

“I have feelings for you,” she muttered before she slowly opened her eyes. He had a grin on his face as he looked into her eyes.

“What kind of feelings?” he asked teasingly. 

“Oh shut up,” she said as she took a hold of his neck pulling him towards her. She kissed him urgently as a giggle fell from his lips.

“This feels a little out of nowhere,” he mumbled against her lips.

“If you think three years is a little out of nowhere, you are hopeless,” she let out before she kissed him urgently.

[bloody-cupcakes]

Love Quinn x very affectionate and loving reader please

A/N: I might've gone a bit off track here but I hope you like it regardless <3

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, obsessive/possessive behavior, murder, the reader is complacent in Love's crimes, implied anxious/stressful situations, this is pretty fluffy all things considered

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love adored just how affectionate you were. Every time she saw you it was always a given that she'd be swept up in a big hug while being given a tender kiss. She'd never known love like that before, the kind that was utterly and truly unconditional.

Like the time you walked in on her blugeoning someone to death because they thought it would be appropriate for them to flirt with you out in the open when she was standing right there. How dare they even think to do that when you already belonged to her?

She'd been so angry, but the moment she saw you she broke down into tears, apologizing profusely for what she'd done. You'd merely shushed her, cupping her face with your hands and placing a kiss to her forehead before muttering a soft, "Let's get you cleaned up".

By that point you were used to it when she'd have an episode of rage-filled desperation, her mind telling her to get rid of the perceived problem as soon as possible. You always held her close to your chest for awhile after that, gently rocking her back and forth while humming a calming tune.

Every morning when she woke up, she was greeted by soft kisses being pressed all over her face by you, and every night when she went to sleep your forehead was pressed close to hers as you muttered just how much she meant to you. No one else made her feel quite as safe or as loved as you did.

In fact, she was so attached to you she decided to give you a job at Anavrin as her assistant so you could always be there with her throughout the day. It ended up being one of the best decisions of her life, because not only were you incredibly helpful you were also just as affectionate as usual, if not more so.

You always had a hand on the small of her back or her waist as she worked, or you were hugging her from behind while she mixed things or chopped up ingredients. Once Forty made a poor joke about PDA and Love gave him a look so stern he didn't speak to her for the rest of the day.

That's who she was when she was with you. She was someone who was so utterly consumed by you and your love that she was willing to even put her brother back in his proper place.

Every kiss that you gave her, every gentle touch, every soothing mutter, every reassuring glance, it was all too much for her to handle, and yet not enough at the same time. She needed you like she needed air, and you were the perfect oxygen mask, allowing her to breathe you in whenever she may need it. She could call in the middle of the night and you'd still show up at her door.

When life felt like it was too much to handle, when her parents were acting judgmental again, when her brother was on the verge of relapsing, you were there, your hands reaching out and grab her from out of the swirling deep abyss she felt as though she were plummeting into. Your arms felt like a warm blanket, keeping her dry and safe every time those same cold and salty waves of terror reared their ugly heads again, threatening to drown her.

Love was grateful that she always had you to run to. You protected her like no other, in a way that not even James had been able to accomplish. You were so understanding, and you weren't even afraid of her when discovering her secret. In your eyes, it was just another complicated part of her that deserved your love and attention.

Because that's what real, true love was. It was accepting someone's flaws despite everything, and that's exactly what you did. She knew she loved you from the very moment she saw you, but it was confirmed even further the very first time you helped her hide a body, promising that no one else had to know about it and that you'd do anything to keep her safe.

She was going to love you forever, it was decided. And you would, too, she was certain of it from the way your very souls felt intertwined, like two hands that were linked together tightly, neither person willing to let go. That was her and you, and it was going to be her and you, forever and always.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

can i please get something with jealous love quinn x fem reader:)! love ur writing so much!

yeah absolutely! and thank you so much, that's so sweet of you to say <3

Green With Envy (Love Quinn x fem reader)

Warnings: mild swearing, jealousy, slight possessiveness

Love was fuming as she watched you help out a customer in Anavrin, where you both worked. You were just being polite, she knew that, but she still found herself getting upset. Especially when said customer placed his hand on your arm and moved in closer. A little too close, in her opinion.

"Yo, sis, what's up? Why do you look like me when we're out of gluten free bread?" Forty questioned suddenly, seeming to have popped up from out of nowhere.

"Nothing's up. I'm fine," she lied through her teeth, watching as the guy next to you got closer and closer still. Now his hand was on the small of your back, something that you obviously didn't look comfortable with. Your eyes flickered around the store before landing on where she stood at the cash register, two words discernible in them: help me.

"God damn it," she swore underneath her breath as she pushed past Forty and started to make her way over. "Watch the cash register for me," she commanded without giving him so much as a second glance, stalking across the store over to where you were.

Taking a deep breath, she put on her best customer service smile so she'd looking friendly instead of threatening (like she really wanted to) and casually sidled up beside you. "Hey! Is there anything I can help you with?"

Despite her polite words, her actions told a much different story. Her hand went to the small of your back, smacking the guy's hand away before wrapping her arm around your waist and tugging you against her. If there was one thing Love Quinn didn't do, it was subtle.

The guy grumbled something under his breath about never coming back as he turned and slunk away, clearly displeased by the interruption. "Thank you," you said before giving her an appreciative kiss on the cheek.

"Of course, sweetie. Let me know if another customer gives you a hard time, okay?" She pulled you in for a hug before reluctantly heading back to the register where Forty still was. Before he could open his mouth, however, she spoke first. "I want you to watch them and make sure nobody ever bothers them again, do you understand me?"

She rarely gave him any direct orders. Most of the time when she wanted him to do something for her it was concealed as a harmless suggestion so he'd think he came up with the idea himself. But right now she was far too upset to worry about mincing her words.

"You got it, sis. No problem." He gave her a light pat on the shoulder before heading off in your direction, to pitch another one of his crappy screenplay ideas no doubt.

Over the next week or so, her plan worked perfectly. Forty hung around you so often that most customers left you alone, and that included the ones who were only trying to cop a feel before asking for your number. The only customers who did come up to you were ones that actually needed help with something.

It backfired, however, when you started hanging out with her brother more than you were with her. Apparently you had a brain that was perfect for plucking ripe, juicy ideas from (Forty's words) and because of that he spent a lot of his free time brainstorming with you, which took time away that you and her could be spending together.

She tried not to get jealous, she really did. It was nice that Forty had someone who actually cared about him to help with his screenplays, someone who she knew wouldn't do anything to threaten or jeopardize his sobriety, but still. You were supposed to be her girlfriend, not his.

The final straw came when Forty tried to get you to cancel your date night, one that you'd had planned for weeks in advance. Love adored her brother, but that was taking it a bit too far.

"You need to stop hanging out with him," she said to you one afternoon a day or so later as she was chopping up veggies to put in a stir-fry she was making. "My brother, I mean," she added once she saw the slight look of confusion on your face. "It's nice that he finally has someone other than me to go to, but he's taking all of our time together away from us."

It wasn't hard to tell she was jealous from the way she was gripping the knife so tightly. You'd be afraid if you didn't know her well enough to know she'd never do anything to hurt you.

"Hey, hey." You made your way over to her, wrapping your arms around her from behind as you rested your chin on her shoulder. "I get it. You're feeling a little left out, right? I can start hanging out with him less, it's fine. I just know how much he means to you and didn't want to brush him off if it was going to hurt his feelings."

She melted into your embrace, turning her head slightly so she could look at you. Everything about you was perfect, even more so than she initially thought. Not everyone was so understanding when it came to the codependent relationship she had with her brother, but you were, and it only made her love you that much more.

"Thank you. I love you," she muttered while leaning in to give you a tender kiss as a way of her showing her thanks to you.

You smiled at her words, kissing her back before replying with a soft, "I love you, too. Just try not to get so green with envy next time. It was hard to tell the difference between you and the green juice you sell at Anavrin."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed at the comparison, but you didn't miss the amused look she had on her face. "Alright, dork. Leave me alone so I can finish getting this ready."

"If you say so." You pressed another kiss to her cheek before letting go of her, though you were stopped when she reached out to gently grab you by the arm.

"Hey. It really means a lot to me that you care so much about both me and my brother. So, thank you for that." She was absolutely serious when she spoke, any hint of playfulness from earlier gone.

"There's nothing to thank me for," you insisted with a caring gaze. "I'd do anything for you, Love. Including being the occasional babysitter for your slightly unstable twin brother."

That made her laugh, and she pulled you back in for another kiss, one that lasted longer than the one before it. She could tell you really meant it, every single word, and that was more important to her than anything.

End notes: I love writing for love hehe 🥰

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[morverenmaybewrites]

Masterlist of My Works

Morveren | AO3

This is a personal blog, but I do take the occasional ask/requests. SFW asks only, please.

Genshin Impact

Stories:

✸ Someday, Somewhere (Xiao x Reader) (AO3)

You meet Adeptus Xiao under strange new skies.

✸ Speak (Xiao x Reader) (AO3)

Learning to love him is like learning a different language.

✸ Silk Flowers (Xiao x Reader) (Tumblr | AO3)

It was the silk flowers.

In summer time, they are practically given away: to seamstresses, to scribes, or perhaps, woven into the hair of a well-known customer. The token of a bargain well-struck.

Xiao claims not to be bothered by them, that adepti are above petty mortal concerns like jealousy.

Perhaps he is right, and you are reading too much into it.

But perhaps, as you are slowly learning, adepti are closer to humans than they’d like to admit.

You decide to test this theory.

"Xiao, if you hate the flowers so much," you say, smiling. "Why not take them off?"

✸ A Crown of Bone (Zhongli x Reader) (Tumblr | AO3)

Imagine being a changeling child and living your life in quiet yearning.

You had been found in the dead of winter, or so your mother tells you, a half-fey child abandoned in a snowbank.

Imagine a lifetime of secrets: your first memories are of a spring that does not belong to the mortal realm. You dream of golden eyes gleaming at you from the darkness as your mother picked you up and carried you away.

Imagine keeping these things to yourself, tucked away against the curve of your ribs, right next to your slow-beating heart. Secrets that are half-yearning and half-memory: someone had left you there in that snowbank, and there are days that you think that they did not do so willingly.

And you hope that one day, they will find you again

Headcanons:

✶Imagine Zhongli as Your Reincarnated Lover (Zhongli x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Imagine Being Kaeya's Childhood Friend (Kaeya Alberich x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Diluc x Fatui Reader (Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Imagine sliding your fingers underneath Dilucs glove (Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader) (Tumblr)

Batman: Arkham and DC

Stories:

✸ The Pizza Delivery Girl's Survival Guide to Gotham City (Jason Todd x Reader) (AO3)

People who lived outside of Gotham City would most often think of it in terms of its heroes and villains. About Batman and Robin, Joker and Harley Quinn.

People who actually live in Gotham City would only think of one thing: surviving.

Who cares about the people in costumes when your house has been bombed for the fifth time, or your wife has been taken hostage just because she worked in a bank?

Or, in your case, when you have to make regular deliveries to places where even Batman feared to tread?

Because let's face it. In a world full of superheroes and costumed villains, the real heroes are the ones who make sure that people get their pizzas in forty-five minutes or less.

✸ His Father's Son (Jason Todd x Reader, Dark Fantasy!AU) (AO3)

Gotham City: the world’s last and greatest bastion of magic. A city made out of spells and twisting steel.

And the only place where the dead can be brought back to life.

After Jason Todd had been forcibly resurrected by his father, he left Gotham City in search of a new life. One where he did not have to be constantly reminded that he now sits on the border between the monstrous and the miraculous. One where he could forget that no longer quite belongs in the world of the living.

But when a strange new curse surfaces, one that causes plants to take root inside of living people and leaving flowering corpses in its wake, Jason finds that he must come back and help solve the case before it devours the city whole.

✸ Rules of Vanishing (Jason Todd x Reader) (AO3)

Here are the rules to survive as a civilian in Gotham City:

The first rule is to keep your head down. Don't draw attention to yourself. Don't make eye contact. Walk briskly and with purpose. Don't wear anything flashy that can be stolen and most certainly do not walk down that dark alley.

The second rule is don't be a hero. Avoid confrontations. Walk the other way when you see a standoff. Don't try to help that man getting beat up in the alley, because odds are you'll get killed right along with him. Gotham City has Batman for a reason.

The third and most important rule is this: Don't get involved with superheroes.

Or in your case, gun-toting vigilantes.

✸ Next to Last (Jason Todd x Reader) (AO3)

After Batman’s death, Jason is left to pick up the pieces.

✸ Revenant (Creature!Jason x Reader) (Tumblr)

✸ The Precious Details of You (Yandere!Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr) (AO3)

You ask him the same question, the way you always do.

“When are you going to let me go?”

And Jason replies, the way he always has: “Soon.”

✸ Imagine Early Mornings with Bruce Wayne (Bruce Wayne x Reader) (Tumblr)

Headcanons:

✶ Imagine Dark Fantasy!Gotham City (Tumblr)

✶How would Jason react to having his face traced (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Domestic Headcanons (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Eurydice! Jason Todd and Orpheus! Reader (Jason Todd x Reader (Tumblr)

✶ Jason Todd's life outside of work (Gen) (Tumblr)

✶ Jason Todd's day to day life (Gen, mild Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Imagine Wayne Manor as a Haunted House (Bruce Wayne x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Sleeping Arrangements (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ What kind of praise/compliments Jason would be fine with? (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ What freaks him out most in a relationship? (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ Jealousy and Insecurity Headcanons (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ What lesson about love are they still trying to learn? (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

✶ How has their understanding of love changed? (Jason Todd x Reader) (Tumblr)

Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

✸ Stolen (Hawks | Keigo Takami x Reader) (AO3)

He is five years old when he decides to be a hero. It is not as simple learning to fly nor is it as easy as saving people.

But he does not know that yet.

Snapshots of Hawks’ life from child to hero to something else in between.

Jujutsu Kaisen

✸ Made New (Kento Nanami x Reader) (Tumblr) (AO3)

Your husband, Kento Nanami, comes back home after Shibuya. Only he isn't quite the same.

[wandasslut3000]

Pretty girl

Pairing: Love Quinn x Fem!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, public sex, bottom!reader, strap on use, club setting, alcohol consumption, praise, degrading, fingering, marking, nude photography, fluff, teasing, birthday sex.

WC: 1.1k

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Music blaring, lights flashing, your hips sway to the music. Your drink in your hands as you enjoy the light buzz in your body. It's your birthday, your party drunk out of their minds, some of the girls finding themselves a special someone for the night.

That however was not on your mind, the burn in your belly intense as you move to take another sip.

Just as your hand relaxes, your body moving along to the beat of the speakers, you feel two soft hands grab you by the waist, a strong hint of your favorite perfume invading your scenes. "There's my birthday girl, I've been looking all over for you baby."

Love presses herself against you, your hips now flushed together as more sensual music plays, her nails lightly scratching your sides making you shiver at the feeling.

Downing the rest of your drink, you turn to face her, a silly smile on your lips as you move to wrap your arms around her neck, holding your girlfriend close as if she would fade away if you were to let go of her.

"Yeah? You missed me?" she nods.

"I miss you every time we're apart." You peck her lips, "You're so cheesy." You tease.

"Only for you."

Your smile widens, leaning closer towards her, the distance between your lips almost non-existent. "You'd be insane to do it for anyone else."

Love groans, grabbing onto your face and pulling you into a lustful kiss, the taste of alcohol on each others tongues. Giggling, you both pull apart when you hear a Forty yell, "Get a room!"

You look up at Love mischievously, "Maybe we should baby, I think it's time for my birthday present." You tease and smirk draws itself onto her face.

"Whatever my girl wants, she gets." Taking you by the hand, and bringing you towards the back of the club. Love hands a man a hundred dollar bill before we are let into a private room.

"Wow, you took 'get a room' literally huh?" You joke and she winks. Closing the door behind her and pulling you into another kiss.

"Happy birthday." She murmurs against you, her lips moving to trace the side of your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the soft skin there, drawing small whimpers out of you.

"Love, please..."

She smirks, pulling away from you and taking your hand. You just then notice your surroundings, a large bed placed in the back of the room, a small box at the base of it.

Your girlfriend moves behind you, wrapping her arms lightly around your torso and leaning into your ear. "Strip and lay down on the bed for me?"

It was more of a question than a demand, a kiss placed right behind the shell of your ear as a way to underline her statement. A shiver trailing down your spine as you nod.

Wordlessly, you do as she says. Freeing yourself from her grasp and your clothing before spreading yourself across the bed, inviting the brunette to have her way with you.

"You look so pretty like that."

You bit your lip and whine, clenching your thighs together at her husky tone, watching as she opens the box and smirks at the contents.

A large flesh colored strap-on matching her fair skin. Part of you wonders how she even brought it here as your eyes stay glued to the item, she fastens the harness onto herself, the cock veiny and free, ready to be inside you.

Crawling up the mattress, Love drags a finger up your body. Starting from your stomach, moving to trace the swell of your breast, past your collarbone and finally up to your lips, slipping the digit inside.

"Pretty girl." A dark twinkle flashes in her eyes as she watches you, batting your eyelashes at her as you swirl your tongue around her. "All mine."

You nod, another finger going past your lips, "Ah... come on baby, there we go." She smiles lazily as you gag around her, tears welling up in your eyes as her hand moves in a faster pace, her other hand moving to wrap around your neck, making you roll your eyes in pleasure.

"Yeah... get'em all nice and wet."

Finally pulling them out of your mouth, your saliva coating her digits, she brings them down to your pussy, teasing your throbbing clit.

Love circles your bundle of nerves, your hips twitching against her, Your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to moan, you clench your eyes shut in anticipation.

"Nuh uh, none of that, I want everyone to hear how good you take my cock." Her thumb drags your lip down before you kiss the pad of it, making her smile.

You feel her replace her fingers with the strap, your wetness helping you grind onto the toy.

Soon the cock shift's into your entrance, thrusting into you, your legs wrapping around her back as her hips buck into yours.

"Yes, uuh, yess- fuck! Oh baby, mmphf-! Right there." You gasp out, your hands tangling in her hair.

Love trails her kisses down your neck once more and latching onto your nipple, your squelching pussy sucking in the strap with little to no resistance at all.

"Go on babygirl, make some more of those pretty.."

One deep thrust.

"Noises.."

Another.

"For... me.." More harsh and deep thrusts stretching you out.

"Please!" You practically sob, your body spasming in pleasure. You don't even know what your begging for at this point, the wetness in between your thighs pulsing.

"Imagine how confused your friends must be 'cause we left so soon." She taunts.

"All because my dirty girl wanted me to fuck her dumb."

"Oh my god!" You gasp, throwing your head back as your eyes roll in a pleasure. Her thumb landing on your clit and playing with the bundle of nerves. Your orgasm rushing through you.

"Yeah? You like me fucking you like this?" She sounds breathless, also chasing her climax.

"Fuckk..." your legs tremble as you scream, mind slowly coming back down from your high. Hearing her moans of pleasure in your ear as she does the same.

Fluttering your eyes open you find your girlfriend's phone out, flashes coming from the camera as she takes a few pictures of you, and your marked and sticky body.

Your cheeks reddening when she pulls out, grabbing a shot of your sopping cunt.

"You're so gorgeous." Love stares down at you in awe. Putting her phone back away she moves to kiss you.

"My pretty girl"

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation - Chapter 3

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe's never had too much trouble adapting.

Warnings: NONE HERE.

My motivation hit a new low. I’m trying to find time for my projects, but it’s become increasingly difficult with what I can only assume to be a form of depression looming over my head. Despite it all, here is a new chapter that’s been sitting in my drafts!

My next shift at Anavrin is slow, long, and haunting. I attempted to occupy myself with a list of possible themes for future book displays, things that Calvin and, more importantly, Forty would approve of. With my phone, I scrolled through socials, observing new trends, watching what was and what could become the new popular fad with the mainstream crowd. I hated it.

My reprieve should’ve come in the form of our little app – the one I can snoop on your texts with – but you hadn’t messaged Love since yesterday. I assumed you’d called her back after I had left, but I didn’t have access to that nor to anything beyond your lacking exchange of messages. I looked about the store, watching an older woman as she perused the biography section with her basket of tangerines. As she slotted a book back into place, she smiled at me. I smiled in return, but quickly turned my attention back down to my phone. I hadn’t heard you come in – the bell on your bag a ghost to my ears – and lunch was well over.

“Can I get this wrapped?” I shut my phone off and pull it, along with my list, under the counter. I smile at the older woman as her shaky hands set down her selected book.

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua.

“We don’t gift wrap, but we do have gift bags. Is that alright?”

She smiles tightly and nods her head. I reach down and pull out a folded bag, alongside a single recyclable sheet of tissue paper. I scan the book and the bag. I never had to gift wrap anything at Mooney’s.

“I’m getting this for my daughter-in-law. She’s giving me a lovely grand daughter this month,” She beams. I don’t care. “Thought I’d get her a parenting book.”

“This book is a memoir, It’s not really meant to be followed as a parenting book.” I say, folding the paper over the book.

“Huh, well. Maybe she can learn something anyway. Life has lessons, too.”

I nod, slide the wrapped book into the bag, and ring her up. She pays with a tap, glancing my way every so often, but takes the bag from my hands and shuffles away a moment later. By the looks of it, she didn’t seem too happy with my response.

Before I pull my phone back into view, I catch sight of Love by the open kitchen window. She has her phone to her ear, pacing. Talking. She bites her lip when her mouth shuts. It seemed I caught the end of the conversation as she tears away from her phone, ending the call. Love taps away at the screen, biting her thumb. I quickly look down to my phone again, app open, but no ping. I feel my phone buzz and I open my own messages.

‘Dinner tonight?’

I look up again and catch Love smiling at me, warm, inviting, a hint of something more. She waves. I smile, delirious, hot, some bitter feeling creeping up. I wave back.

—

By the time we arrive at Love’s place, it’s late. Love drops her grocery bags onto the counter and I follow in tow. She stretches her arms to the sky, flexing her fingers. I take her purse from her shoulder and set it aside.

“Sooo… How was lunch today, Lovey?” I tease. Love gives me a pointed glare, a smile peeking through before she punches me in the arm. I feign a pained hiss, laughing when she rolls her eyes. She turns her attention to the groceries.

“You’re funny,” She says, humourlessly. “My lunch was fine. A little lonely, but fine.”

“Didn’t Y/N keep you company?”

“No, actually. She didn’t show. I called her and she told me she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Maybe I don’t know her too well, but it doesn’t really sound like her to cancel without warning.” I remember the app – no messages were exchanged.

“No, it’s… not like her at all. But it’s alright,” Love huffs. “She’s been stressed lately.”

“You wanna know what I think?” I ask as she hands me a bag of fruits.

“Mhm? Toss those in the freezer for me.”

I turn to put them away as I continue.

“I think you have a tendency to quite literally Love-bomb,” When I turn back around, Love looks at me unhappily. I laugh and raise my hands in defence of my point, gingerly stepping to her. “Heyy – She just came back to LA and you’ve been practically non-stop poking her for attention. Now, I’m not saying she hates it… I just think you need to ease up a little. Back up. That’s all.”

“I don’t know,” She tries. My fingers find her shoulders and glide down the sides of her arms. I slowly grasp her hands as she relaxes into the affectionate touch.

“But I do.” I reassured. She sighs.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Always am,” I arrogantly say. Love playfully jabs me in the arm and huffs. “Hey!”

“How about home made pizzas?” She suggests, turning back to the grocery bags and continuing to unpack them like she hadn’t just stabbed her finger into my shoulder. She doesn’t particularly enjoy being teased like this, but I can’t help it.

“Sounds good, Lovey.”

She gives me another pointed glare, but the creeping smile she attempts to suppress continues to say it all.

“Help me unpack, will ya?” I kiss her cheek and reach across to the bags.

“Anything for you, Lovey.” I whisper by her ear. Exhausted, she only huffs.

I take hold of the neck of a bottle and slide it out of a lone bag. Love watches me as she places a bag of naan on the counter.

“Artisanal vodka?” I ask, shifting the bottle in my hands as I read the label.

“Saw it at the store, thought I’d pick it up. It can go in the cupboard,” She lazily points behind her as she takes out the fresh bag of tomatoes. I make my way over to the cabinet, opening the door and placing it among partially drunk bottles of wine.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask.

“Well, seeing how Y/N is doing with everything, I wanted to get her something nice to encourage her.”

“Didn’t seem like the artisanal vodka type,”

“Oh she’s not, but I wanted to get something that could double as, you know? Decoration?” She laughs and I imagine the bottle sitting on a mantle, sticking out among cheap decor. I haven’t known many people to keep their full, unopened bottles of alcohol out as decoration. It’s something you see in rich households, and usually only ever in the movies. They’d more realistically find themselves collecting dust at the back of a cupboard, anyway. “Anyway…”

I turn back around as Love beckons me over, folding the now empty grocery bags.

“It’s late, so I don’t think I’ll make the dough tonight… we’ll use naan instead. Is that alright?”

“Love, it’s more than alright. It’s perfect.”

—

When I arrive at the apartment on my next day off, a moving truck is parked in front and the front door is wedged to be kept open. I decide not to hit the buzzer as I scoot on by, making room for the men carrying boxes and furniture up the stairs of the building. I hop up the steps eagerly, watching the movers march down to pick up more loot from the truck.

When I get to your door, I go to knock – but set my hand against the door handle in one last change of mind. I twist it open.

Inside, I spot you on your floor, fumbling with the dining table. It’s on its side, and you’re vocally sobbing as your hands work some screws – only to pull on the leg and find it hasn’t loosened one bit.

“Hey,” I say, and you jump. You turn to me and wipe your eyes. Your delicate features are red and heated by the crying. “Are you okay?”

“Will, I –” You sniff, turning back to the table. “Oh my god.”

“I think you have new neighbours moving in,” I say. “Everything good?”

“No,” You grunt, pushing the table back and running your fingers through messy strands. “I’m just trying to take apart this – this stupid Ikea table. It’s a nightmare.”

“Won’t it fit through the door regardless?”

“Thats not –” You hiccup. “That’s not the point. The buyer wanted it taken apart.”

“Yeah? And how much are they buying it for?”

“Thirty dollars.”

“That’s hardly a reasonable price for the labour. Hey – look at me. Put the screwdriver down.”

“But they won’t buy it unless I take the table apart first – I just want it out of here. Please.”

“I’ll help then. But you should know there are definitely people out there who would buy it the way it is. Putting together Ikea furniture can be pretty daunting.”

“And taking it apart is a pain in the fucking ass!”

“Definitely, but I’ll help. Here –” I take my boots off and make my way to you. I sit down with a grunt, not often finding myself seated on the floor. I reach my hand out and smile to you.

You drop the screwdriver into my awaiting palm, and try to smile back. You wipe your eyes again, sniffling.

I turn my attention onto the leg of the table you’d been trying to pry off.

“So… how are you feeling?,” I shift my position as I start screwing the legs off.

You scoff.

“Like shit.”

“And why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” You start, and I keep quiet knowing you’ll fill the silence that follows with an answer. You sniff again, your nose stuffed. I hardly believe you’re only crying over a table. “I’m just… I’m feeling… I’m kind of sad.”

“Why’re you sad?”

“Jesus, Will. You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” I defend. “It’s not every day you find someone you know curled up on the floor and crying over an Ikea table.”

“Fair,” You huff in a similar fashion to Love, I think amusedly.

“So…?”

“It’s my mom,” You finally answer. Chewing on your lip as you watch me turn the table to deal with the next screw. “I feel like I never had a mom. But I’m still left cleaning up after her. She was real, you know? The amount of shit she hoarded – all the pictures – it proves it. But not… she’s not really my mom. I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“That’s okay, take your time.”

“Maybe I’m just being ungrateful.”

“You don’t owe your mom anything. Not even gratitude.”

“I know that, but… I just – It’s hard. I feel like my mom died years ago, but I didn’t cry then. I’m crying now.”

When the next screw falls into my hand, I place it with the others. I take a second to look at you, but you shrink away. Hiding. You don’t like when people stare, I can tell you feel transparent.

“Grief hits us all differently. I think you’re mourning the person she could’ve been. It’s sad to think, but some people aren’t built to appreciate the lives they had. They’re just like that,” You hide behind your hair. “They don’t always deserve their families,” Without thinking it through, my free hand finds your cheek, grazing my thumb across it and pushing straying tears out of the way. When all you do to react is look down, I allow my fingers to brush the hair out of your shyly hidden eyes. You gulp, and I watch the familiar bob of your throat. You look up to me, then. I burn hot at the close proximity, the intimate action becoming all too real the moment you set your eyes on me. You don’t say a word, and I tear my attention – and my hand – back to the table.

I hear you let out a deep breath, shaky almost.

“Thank you,” It comes out different. You wipe your tears away – or, rather, you wipe my touch right off your cheek. I don’t overthink it. I try not to. You lift yourself up a second too soon, and I immediately regret putting my hand on you. I feel shame flood my system, growing in a dark consuming pit. I grind my teeth and drop more screws onto the rolling pile. When you come back, you surprise me by sitting in the same spot you had left – maybe a tad bit closer.

“Do you want one?” You ask me, and I look over to find the familiar metal tin facing me; open and eager. The same number of cookies we’d left, minus the one in your free hand. You hadn’t had a cookie since you shared them with me last. The shame that attempted to overtake me a moment ago drains out as I reach in. I smile at the cookies, bringing one between my teeth.

[auras-moonstone]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ don’t blame me for what you made me do

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.6K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!carpenter!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n is finally able to get revenge on her sisters when the bailey family reaches out to her to ask her to join the plan.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: implied character death. murder. family issues. bonding over shared issues. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: on sunday it was scream 6’s anniversary and it made me miss that era sm😫 the fandom is so dead, especially the ethan/jack one.

y/n had always felt like an outsider in her own family. her mom’s favorites had always been sam and tara. and y/n went under her radar, the curse of the middle child, they say. and then there were her sisters, who she was also not very close with. despite having only one year difference with tara, the youngest sibling had a better relationship with sam, so y/n was also left alone in the sibling department. she only had her dad, who used to be her entire world until he packed his bags and left her behind. and it was all because of sam carpenter.

revenge is a dish best served cold, they say. and after years of waiting, the opportunity came to y/n. it actually knocked on the door of her new apartment in new york city.

“um, hello? can i help you?” the girl asked confused, seeing three strangers standing before her. one was a man around his forties, then there was a tall boy with curly hair and a red-haired girl with green eyes.

“hi, y/n carpenter, right?” the man said.

“yeah… do i know you?” y/n asked, a tad creeped out.

“no, but you knew my son, richie.”

richie, the man who used to date sam and then try to kill her. the man who tied y/n up and hid her in a closet, telling her she was going to be okay. murdering her was never in richie’s plan, and it still confused the hell out of her.

y/n’s eyes widened. “yes. i’m really sorry about what happened.”

“thank you.” the man gave her a small smile. “my name is wayne bailey, these are my children, quinn and ethan.” his two kids waved at her and she smiled in response. “do you think we could talk for a few minutes? i have something to say that might interest you.”

she reluctantly let them in, and wayne started telling her about what richie told them. how he noticed the tension between her and her sisters, how he could see the resentment in her eyes everytime she looked at sam, how sometimes they became murderous too.

“i don’t know what to tell you… what’s this all about? why are you here?”

“you see, y/n, your sister murdered my son. the light of my life, and i want her to pay. and by what richie told me, i think that’s what you want too.”

that captured her interest. “sam is the reason my dad—the only person i was close with in that damn family—left. so, whatever you have planned, count me in.”

“are you okay?” y/n asked ethan, who looked very deep in thought as they entered the dorms building. they had just came from a meeting at wayne’s house, and ethan had been dead silent the whole way back home.

“i just… aren’t you scared? that things won’t work out and we might end like every other ghostface?” ethan was very expressive when he talked, he talked with his whole body, especially his hands. the maniac hand movement showed y/n that he was very anxious about the whole thing.

during the time she had spent with the baileys, she had reached a conclusion—wayne and quinn were all for revenge, it was clear they were furious with sam. and ethan, although he truly loved his brother and hated sam for what she did, was in on the plan for the mere purpose of pleasing his dad.

richie had been the favorite, and ethan wanted so bad for his father to see him like he once saw his brother that he was willing to sacrifice his life for it. y/n understood that feeling of wanting to belong more than anyone else, which was why she had connected with ethan in a way she never thought would be possible.

they became each other’s comfort, each other’s safe place when things got overwhelming. it really sucked to fake being wary of him, to act like she was trying to keep her distance because—like the rest of the group—she didn’t trust the new members, when it reality she just wanted to wrap her arms around his frame.

“i won’t let anything happen to you. even if i have to take a knife to the heart to make sure you get out of this alive, i’ll do it. i can promise you that.”

ethan shook his head. “but that’s exactly what i’m worried about. something happening to you. the thought of getting out of this without you… fuck, that can’t happen, y/n.”

y/n had seen ethan being vulnerable, he let himself be like that around her, but this was the first time she had seen him cry. it was a sight she never wanted to see again.

she carefully brush his tears away. “okay, then we’ll have each other’s back, okay? please don’t cry, you’re killing me.”

“i’m sorry, i’m just really scared.” he hid his face on the crook of her neck and took deep breaths to stop the tears.

“don’t be sorry. never apologise for feeling, especially to me. it just makes me sad to see your pretty eyes with tears, but i get what you say.”

“i don’t want to go back to the group.” he pouted.

y/n chuckled then checked her smartwatch. “it’s late. chad might wonder where you are.”

ethan groaned. “i don’t care. i’ll tell him i was at study group. can i stay here for a bit?”

“you’re a little obsessed with my presence, landry.” she joked.

“and what if i am?” he said before letting out a nervous laugh.

y/n took him in. his strong arm was settled on the back of the couch, right next to her head. his temple was resting on his closed hand and he was staring intently at her with those killer deep brown eyes. he was so beautiful and she was so weak when it came to him. and fuck if his full lips didn’t look so inviting.

her index finger lifted and it was soon tracing the shape of his lips. they felt as soft as his cute curls. “then we’d be on the same page. because i’m a little obsessed with you.”

ethan’s arm left the back of the couch to end up around the back of y/n’s neck, pulling her close. her shaky hand found its way to his hard chest, right where she could feel the thunderous beats of his heart, which only became more erratic when their lips finally met.

“mmmh, wanted it so bad.” he said between kisses. “we’re not going back to being just friends right? because i can’t handle that.”

“are you out of your mind? no way. you’re mine and i get to kiss you whenever i want. well, whenever i can.”

“yours. fuck, that sounds so good.” he hummed contently. “it’s going to be so hard to hold back from you.”

“but then, when we finally get to release the tension, it’s going to be so good, don’t you think?” she smirked.

“you drive me insane.”

“right back at you, pretty boy. i don’t think you realize how powerful those puppy eyes of yours are.”

ethan’s blood rushed to his cheeks and y/n giggled like a schoolgirl. her chest felt like busting. she was finally happy. truly. the 6 foot two brunet boy lying beneath her was her one source of happiness, and she was not going to let anything take him away from her.

y/n stood in her ghostface costume in front of her sisters. she was practically bouncing on her feet, excited to reveal herself and see the look on the girls’ faces. ethan, who had already shown his face, had the biggest smile. y/n was so adorable he had to close his hands in a fist to fight the temptation of bringing her into his arms.

“ready for the last surprise?.” wayne asked.

“come on, babe.” ethan squeezed her waist and y/n took the mask off. her sisters stepped back in shock, faces tinted with hurt.

“how could you?” tara spat as tears fell from her eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes. “oh, cry me a river.”

“why would you do this? is this all because of him?” sam pointed her head at ethan. “what? you fell in love and he brainwashed you into becoming a killer?”

“do you think i’m stupid? of course not.” she scoffed. “i mean, i did fall in love with him, but that’s besides the point. they came to my door a few days after we moved.” and she told them how she came to work with the baileys. “i waited years, and now… i can finally make you two pay for how shitty you’d always made me feel.”

“what are you talking about? we’re your sisters, y/n.”

y/n glared at tara. “you have some fucking nerve. you’ve always made me feel neglected, until sam left town. we started to bond, but as soon as she was back… you forgot about me. how can you even say you’re my sister?” she yelled in anger. ethan took her hand in comfort. “and you?” she looked at sam. “you’re the reason my dad left, and i swear to god i’m going to show you exactly how badly that hurt.”

“you crazy bitch. you’re insane.” tara screamed at her.

ethan slashed her stomach in fury. “watch your fucking mouth when you talk to my girlfriend!”

“let’s just get over with this. y/n deserves a break.” quinn said.

the carpenters sure put up a fight, y/n was the one who got most of the wounds, but they had managed to succeed. wayne and quinn left to take care of gale and mindy while ethan stay behind taking care of his girlfriend.

“are you feeling alright?”

“don’t worry, eth. they’re bad, but not that bad. i’ll for sure live.” she reassured him. “we made it. i told you we would.”

“you did.” he laughed, and then hugged her tightly. “you scared me so much, though. i really thought i’d lost you when i saw you lying on the ground.”

“i could never leave you.” she brushed her nose against his and whispered against his lips, “i love you. thanks for walking into my life.”

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

Could I ask for a Forty Quinn x Reader one-shot? The reader works at Anavrin and Forty is very fond of her. One day, Love (who also befriends the reader) gives her a few days off work to relax and Forty cannot stand not seeing her as he is used to her presence and undivided attention. Forty (being his dramatic self) stages an accident at work and makes Love call the reader to come to Anavrin to take him home and look after him. Don't feel pressured to do it though! I know life can be hectic. :)

“I’m back, dear sister!” Forty stretches his arms wide as he enters the store’s kitchen, a wide grin on his face as he gives Love a teasing look. “I know my presence just made your life so much better, but don’t worry... there’s no need to thank me.”

Love snorts as she cuts a few vegetables on the kitchen island, her eyes looking back at him with a soft smile on her face. “Sure, Forty.”

“Anyway! Not that I came to see you with a specific agenda, but...” He gently taps his hands against the kitchen island, his eyes frantically looking around the kitchen looking for something. “... have you seen (Y/N)? She’s not out in the front.”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Love ignores her brother’s evident choice of words, her attention partially coming back to her task at hand as she speaks. “She was getting pretty tired these days, so I gave her a few days off.”

Forty looks back at his sister with an unreadable expression, his eyes blinking a few times before he tilts his head at her. “Excuse me, what?”

“You heard me. She’s off work for a few days.” She looks back at him with a teasing glint in her eyes, her lips stretching onto her cheeks when she notices a pout forming on his. “What? Disappointed you won’t be able to see her?”

“Duh.” He shakes his head just as he steals a carrott from Love’s cut pile, the man rapidly putting it in his mouth as he steps back towards the store’s front. “But don’t worry, lovable sister... cause I’ve got a plan to bring her back here!”

“Bring her back here?” Love quirks an eyebrow, slight confusion taking over her face as she watches him come out of view. “Forty, she’s tired, please don’t bother her-”

“Aaaah!” Forty gives out a terrified scream of pain, a loud thud soon accompanying the rest of his words. “Oh, the pain! It’s unbearable!”

Despite knowing that this is a trap, Love cannot help but feel overworried for the safety of her brother, the young woman already stepping out of the kitchen to see him lying on the floor and holding onto his leg. She gives out a long sigh, shaking her head as she puts her hands on her hips.

“Tripped and fall, huh?”

“It really hurts!” He gives out a pout, slightly shaking back and forth on the floor. “I need someone to take care of me!”

“Hm, and I can’t leave the store unnatended, how convenient...”

“Yes, a real shame!” He closes his eyes for a moment, his face contorting in a dramatic expression. “Guess you’ll have to call someone to pick me up and take care of me... like... let’s say... (Y/N)?”

He opens one of his eyes to stare, a light of hope in his pupils. Love gives out a chuckle as she sees this, her body already walking towards the nearest phone in the store. Forty’s lips stretch out in a victorious grin upon seeing his plan working, a loud ‘yes!’ coming out of his mouth soon after.

“You know...” She speaks up as she types in your number, giving him a quirked eyebrow. “... you could have just called her yourself.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Where’s the fun in that?”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“How did it happen again?”

You pronounced those words while looking for something in the freezer, having left Forty alone on the couch in your living room. The Quinn man blinks a few times as he comes back to reality, his mind just now busy daydreaming a day date with you.

“What?”

“Your leg.” You grab a bag of ice out of the freezer, closing its door just as you turn a quirked eyebrow to him. “How did you hurt it?”

“Oh!” Forty suddenly remembers the real reason why you picked him up at the store, his hands unconsciouly grabbing his left leg. “Yeah, I tripped on an orange a client left on the ground. Can you even believe it?”

“Hm hm.” You give out a teasing grin just as you sit next to him and hang him the bag of ice, the man speaking out a silent “thank you” as he takes it from you. “An orange, huh?”

“Yeah, I know! I’m so clumsy.” He gives out a large grin as he puts the ice against his left leg, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he stares into your eyes. “You should have seen Love’s face, though. She was so worried!”

“Love, yeah... You know, it’s funny...” You bite onto your bottom lip as you think, your fingers scrathing the side of your face. “... cause she told me you tripped on some dropped water, not an orange.”

His expression falters down to a panicked one for a moment, a nervous smile gracing his lips a few seconds later. “Ha! Yeah, that’s right. I don’t know why I said orange... must have hurt my head too when I tripped.”

“Yeah, maybe...” You point at his left leg, a quirked eyebrow surfacing on your face. “But it doesn’t explain why you’re putting the ice on the wrong leg.”

Silence takes over him, his head slightly tilting at you. “... huh?”

“At the store, you said your right leg was hurting.” Your lips stretch into a wide grin, your approaching him. “So why are you putting the ice on the left one, huh?”

His heartbeat stops for a few seconds as he realizes how close you are to him, a warm feeling spreading to his cheeks as a million ideas comes to his mind, most of them consisting of smashing his lips against yours.

“... fine, I lied.” His words make you chuckle and you put more distance between the two of you, a slight feeling of disappointment taking over him as a result. “Love said you were off work, and I wanted to see you! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Um... you mean aside from fake-hurting your leg?” He nods at your words, another chuckle escaping through your lips. “You could have just called and asked me out. I would have said ‘yes’.”

His eyes widen with shock just as his lips stretch into an excited grin. “Did I hear that right? You wanna go on a date with me?”

You give out a scoff. “No, you wanna go on a date with me.”

“Sorry, that’s not what I heard.” He completly ignores the look of disbelief on your face as he shakes his head, his smile almost wide enough to break his skin. “Oh, (Y/N), what misery you must be in! If I had known you wanted to go out with me so bad, I would have asked you days ago.”

“Huh huh.” You approach your face to his once more, a teasing grin on your lips as you quirk an eyebrow. “You still haven’t asked me, though.”

“Jeez, you’re so impatient.” You roll your eyes at his words, the mere action causing his stomach to twist. “But fine... if you insist. Will you go on a date with me?-”

You answer his question by crashing your mouth against his, your hands gently holding onto his head as you move press your lips furthermore. His hands unconsciously let go of the bag of ice as the shock and warmth of this moment spread through his entire body, the bag making a loud thud once it hits the floor of your living room.

You part away a few moments later, Forty unconsciously following your mouth as he blinks his eyes open. You give him a wide grin, a chuckle escaping your mouth.

“Does that answer you?”

His own lips stretch into a grin of pure excitement. “That was the best answer you could have given... like, ever.”

And he couldn’t for you to repeat that answer... over and over again.

[snowvies]

𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬 ❄︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

[livelovelaug-h]

Forty's better half pt 1

Prompt: Can you write Forty x Reader where Y/n is a pretty rich photographer & she supports her boyfriend Forty in everything he does (even with money). Love really loves her & the three of them spend a lot of time together. So when Love & Joe get together he questions that Forty is depending on Y/n too much and she kind of tells him off. I need lots of fluffy cuddles with Forty, if it's not a problem.

Tags : @thanossexual thanksss for the request!!!!

You walked into Anavrin excited to share the good news with your boyfriend Forty. 

"Hey babes what's up?" He said to you. 

"I have some great news!" 

"Ooh spill the tea."

"Those pictures I took at the wedding they gave me about 1900$ for all the pics." 

"Woww oh my God that's fantastic!" 

"I know right, Thank you." You leaned in and kissed him. You saw a guy with black hair across the room putting books away. 'I guess he's new here.' you thought. 

"I was thinking that now i can get you that new camera you wanted and maybe we can shoot something for your movie idea or something." 

"Awww you are the absolute best." 

You shrugged "I try."

"Do you think we can use your guest house?." 

"For you of course." 

Joe's pov 

Hello, you must be forty's girlfriend I heard about. Rich I can definitely tell. You dress up like someone who can afford it. What's that I hear you're gonna pay for his stuff?? isn't he good with money? All I know is that love really likes you, and if she likes you then you must be pretty impressive.

"Hey Will, come over here for a sec." I hear forty yell. So I walk over. 

"What's up?" 

"I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend since you and love are a thing now." 

"Oh so you're the one he's been talking about?" 

"Uh yeah that's me. Well I hope it is." She jokes. "nice to meet you I'm Will bettelheim." 

"Nice to meet you too. I'm y/n l/n. How do you like working here? Hopefully forty hasn't chewed your ear off with his stories." 

"Oh no they're great. I actually like it here. I have never been to a place like this." 

"Well I hope you don't get tired of it." You laugh. "Well I'll see you later babe." you say to forty and give him a peck on the lips. 

"Bye love you."

"It was nice meeting you Will. Hopefully I'll see you Soon."

"Of course. It was nice meeting you too." With that you turned around and left.

"Isn't she great?" 

"Yeah she seems nice." 

"She is. man, I mean she's been helping and supporting my writing ever since day one."

"How did you guys meet?" 

"She was at my mom's party, of course she was the photographer and we just hit it off." 

"How long ago was that." 

"About two years. Well I'll let you go. I gotta go work on my story. See you later." 

"See ya."

Y/n l/n. Let me see. I pull up your Instagram. Some pics of you and forty and some professional pictures. You're pretty famous almost a million followers. It's a nice page. People are commenting that you and forty are "mom and dad" that's umm strange? They're waiting for him to purpose. Some of the comments say:

They are so in love.

The way they look at each other. 🥺😍

God hellppp us 👐 you guys are perfect for each other.

I don't know about you y/n but something is off about you two.  how do people not see it ?

~~~~ 

Your pov

"Okay perfect. Do a silly one."

Snap

"Great!!." Love goes over to the door and I see Will standing there. Him again. I don't know something about him doesn't seem right.

Joes pov

Oh. Y/n. She's here again. Not a surprise.

"thank you so much for letting me do this Mrs. Quinn." I hear her say as love walks over towards me.

"oh hey. what's going on here ?" I ask.

She kisses me hello. "it's the anniversary of the store opening so you know my parents are going to be extra and want a party. Y/n is taking pics for the website and the new articles."

"oh wow, That's great. Well congrats & Happy anniversary Avavrin." She laughs.

"were going to be doing a pic with all the workers so come on."

"oh hey Will."

"hey y/n. How are you?"

"I'm good and you?"

"I'm great thanks."

Your pov

"hey so game night is this week are you in Will?" I ask him, putting him right on the spot.

"of course, why would I miss that?"

"great, can't wait to get to know you more."

"Y/n dear can you come here for a quick moment." Mrs. Quinn calls.

"duty calls. See you guys." I say and walk away. My plan is to get him drunk, maybe then I'll be able to see if Will is who he says he is. Or if he's hiding anything. You never know.

[lxvesickreality]

it’ll be okay

Request: Angsty Forty Quinn thing where the reader has to console him after he has a particularly bad fight with this dad?

Request: forty quinn x reader, reader celebrates forty’s 6 months sobriety in bed?

Pairing: Forty Quinn x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, smut, oral (male recieving)

Word Count: 1,720

Add on: mashed two requests together, i have a long list of requests, many forty quinn so here’s two!

gif is NOT mine, credit to owners

Y/N was seated in the driver's seat of her Audi R8 with her e/c eyes fixed on the back door of Anavrin, frown lines on her forehead and a fast paced heartbeat. Forty Quinn, her boyfriend of 9 months was inside in a ‘meeting’, as Forty had called it, with his father pitching a new idea to him probably begging for money at this point. He wouldn’t take a direct handout from Y/N even though she has enough money to last a lifetime and he claimed it would be wrong and weird but you knew it was because he craved the approval from his father. She knew how this would end, everybody did but it wasn’t able to be stopped so Y/N offered to take him to the meeting. 

Turning up the music a little more and resting your eyes relaxing against the seat, you took a moment to think of life but it was life and that didn’t last for long. Over the almost blaring music, she heard the slam of a door and her eyes blinked open to see Forty storming out with an angered look, clearly unstable. Fuck, Y/N thought to herself. Love Quinn, her boyfriend’s very close sister, was practically jogging to stay close behind him yelling for him to stop. The way she cared about her brother was everything, she was a great sister no matter what their mom said. Joe or Will-frankly, Y/N had no idea what to call him, situation with that was weird-ran after Love, pulling her by the arm to let Forty go and Y/N took this as her opportunity to exit the car.

“Forty?” she called out. The broken expression that was evident on Forty’s face broke his girlfriend’s heart. He had such high hopes going into this meeting, anxious and couldn’t sit still in the passenger seat on the way here with a big smile plastered on his face. That Forty was completely gone and was replaced by the unstable boy. “Oh, honey,” 

Forty walked to her, embracing her instantly feeling safe and calmed down slightly. She opened her eyes and caught Love giving her a small smile and mouthed ‘take care of him please’. Y/N nodded, pulling back to escort Forty back to the car and into the passenger's seat. “I just wanted his approval. Just fucking something from him.” 

You shut the door to the passenger side and climbed into the driver’s seat putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you did, baby. I know,” the two buckled their seatbelts and Forty leaned over the middle console to lay his head on his girlfriend’s shoulder as she backed out into the parking lot to get to the street.

~

Forty and Y/N were seated on the couch, a blanket wrapped around them with a fire going. Y/N often kept her house cool since they lived in LA but today was rather cold out so she had her butler light it for her before she got home. She sent him and her maid home for the night off, paying them directly and gestured for Forty to take a seat in the family room. He obliged and curled up with a blanket. Y/N ordered his and hers favorite pizzas and sent a text to Love explaining how he was doing and that you’d call if something was wrong. She quickly sent a heart and thumbs up emoji back. 

“I ordered some pizza. Hope you’re hungry.” Forty barely acknowledged his girlfriend and closed his eyes. She sighed heavily, “Honey, c’mon, talk to me.” 

“I just wanted his stupid fucking approval but I can never have it! He barely ever has time to listen to my ideas. I mean, do you have any idea how long it took me to get him to meet me today?” she went to say something but Forty was sitting up and continued to vent. “He barely looks at me when we go to those stupid fucking wellness weekends. My mom treats me like a decent human being I guess but is complete shit to Love. Our parents suck, really fucking suck.”

“I kno-”

“And that isn’t the best part! My dad told me I’d never be something, that I’ll just ‘manage’ Anavrin for the rest of my life and live off my girlfriend that will probably leave me in-”

“You finish that sentence, Forty, and I’ll slap the shit out of you.” Y/N said sternly. Taking a hold of Forty’s face, she looked him in the eyes, meaning every word that came out of her mouth. “I love you, Forty. I’m not going anywhere. I have no reason to. I love you for who you are and I’m proud of you. You will become something because you are so determined to do so, I love that about you. So, shut the fuck up and just let me help instead of asking your piece of shit father for anything.”

Forty threw his arms around her, inhaling her familiar scent and melting in her arms. He was thankful to have this woman in his life, he thanked the person above every day for giving her to him. She was perfect for him and made him feel so wanted and loved. He pulled back to kiss her on the lips and she almost immediately kissed back as if she already knew he was going to. He could be predictable sometimes, especially with his timing of kisses. She sighed in absolute bliss as Forty tugged himself away from her addicting lips. Before he could kiss her again, this time more passionately and rough, the doorbell rang and he groaned. Y/N giggled to herself, standing up to grab the pizza she assumed was here and after a few minutes and loud exchanges with the delivery boy, she returned with the pizza. 

“Hungry?” she questioned, setting down the pizza on the coffee table.

“Yes,” his eyes gazed at her with lust filled eyes. “For you.”

“Forty Quinn, are you thinking what I think you’re suggesting?” she swayed her hips a little bit, stopping in front of him with a smile and suddenly an even bigger smile appeared. “Forty, do you know what today is?”

Forty shook his head, “No, why?”

“It’s officially been 6 months of sobriety.” Y/N straddled his waist, lightly pushing him back against the cushion and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You know what that means. Celebration is in order.” she nipped at his ear earning a sharp intake of breath from him. 

He felt her soft lips lay gentle kisses down his neck nearly straight away feeling the blood rush to his member and he squirmed underneath her, by now just wanting to rip off her clothes to fuck her into this couch but he sat still letting his girlfriend work her magic. Abruptly, she rose up from her position to take off his tight shirt and ran her fingers over his chest admiring the way he looked once again before leaning back down to trail kisses down his torso. Sliding off his lap and keeping herself upright on her knees, she unbuckled his belt chuckling at his surprised expression telling him to help slide his pants off his legs. He did as he was told, almost tripping over his shoes as he slipped both his pants, boxers, and shoes off while his girlfriend waited patiently with wide open innocent eyes. God, did he love when she looked like that. 

Pushing his legs open a bit, she started at his right knee to start kissing up to her final destination loving the way Forty was squirming underneath her longing for her mouth to be elsewhere. An inch from her destination, she switched to the other knee to begin there.

“C’mon, kitten, stop teasing.”

“Shut up,” she demanded not bothering to peek at her boyfriend. He knew once she got to where he really wanted, it’d be worth it but he didn’t want to wait. Not even 10 seconds later, she got there. Taking him into her hand, she licked from the bottom of his shaft to his tip leaving a trail of her saliva behind and she swirled her tongue over the tip collecting the precum that was seeping out. Forty unconsciously bucked his hips upwards and Y/N took it as an opportunity to duck down to his balls kissing them softly. She knew it was going to get her in trouble later for teasing him so much but she looked forward to that because he gets so rough when he's teased and she loves it. 

"Fuck, kitten," he sucked in a breath when Y/N licked upwards again. She knew it was enough and slowly took him in her mouth. He was thick, but average, just the perfect size for her and once all of him was in, she gagged a little bit as he hit the back of her throat thrusting forward. She put her hands on his hips to keep him from doing that as she bobbed up and down sucking gently. He let out a loud moan when she went up stopping at the tip sucking slightly harder. That was his weakness and Y/N loved it. It always got the sexiest moan out of him and brought him real close to orgasm. "Just like that," 

She moved her right hand down to his testicles rubbing them softly, going back down his shaft. She gagged, a little saliva running out from her mouth but it didn't stop her from going a little further. She went back up and continued the little routine. Hearing him yell out 'fuck' gave her the signal he was about to cum in her mouth. Y/N went faster, sucking harder and not at all gently working him up to his orgasm. Her hand massaged his balls as quick as her mouth was going before she felt the slight jerk of his hips and the warm liquid entered her mouth. She went into action swallowing each drop that came out until she felt him start to go soft in her mouth and she knew he had finished. 

"Happy 6 months of sobriety, my love," she smiled up at him, fluttering her eyelashes.

[withwritersblock]

Knowing me, Knowing You

~Knowing me, Knowing You by ABBA~ Author's Note: requeted, sorta. it got angsty some how? Summary: Luke goes to his daughter's youth hockey game Warnings: none Word Count: 1,733 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

Luke has always felt guilty for missing his daughter’s hockey games. Zoey was seven and had games almost every weekend. But all of her games overlapped with his. She would FaceTime him before and after the games. She would be red hot and dripping in sweat, her curly hair sprawled all over her features. 

She was a center like her Uncle Jack and was the top scorer on her team. There was not an ounce of surprise with that fact as she was a Hughes after all. Y/N always made an effort to record as many videos as possible, so Luke was able to be involved as much as he can. He still felt guilty for not being able to go. 

Except today. It was the mini championship for her league that she was apart of and Luke had the week off for All-Star break. This year none of the Hughes boys were a part of the All-Star tournament which meant all three of them would be there to support Zoey. 

Zoey and Y/N were both already at the rink, while Luke was trying to drag his brothers out of the house. “The game starts in an hour, with traffic we’ll barely make it on time for the first period!” he shouted as he took a hold of his keys. Quinn groaned out as he walked out of the guest bedroom. 

“Well it’s not my fault that Jackaboy needs to take forty minutes on his hair!” Quinn ran his hand across his chin. Jack huffed as he stood up from the couch.

“You could’ve used Luke’s bathroom!” Jack expressed as all three of the boys walked towards the door to leave the house. 

The drive to the rink took forty minutes and Luke was freaking out the entire time. He parked the car and instantly hopped out. Quinn and Jack were trailing behind him. Luke promised Zoey that he would be there, and warmups were nearly finished. Zoey had to of thought Luke wasn’t coming. 

The three boys walked towards the table, it was a seven dollar entrance fee. Luke pulled up his venmo and venmoed them the twenty-one dollars that was needed to enter. The teenage girl working the table flushed bright red at the sight of the three of them. She nervously added the wristbands to their wrists. 

They all took fast steps towards the entrance to the rink. Luke step foot onto the bleachers to see his wife and his parents sitting together a few feet away, “Over here,” he mumbled towards his brothers before he guided his way through the crowded bleacher seats. He sat down beside Y/N, excited rubbing his hands together as stared towards the ice searching for the forty-three on the ice. 

“She’s been looking for you,” Y/N mumbled, sadly. He clenched his jaw as he glanced towards his brothers who were sitting beside their dad away from him.

“They took forever to get ready to leave the house, I’m sorry,” he whispered as he leaned towards her, kissing her temple as he ran his hand up and down her back. “How was she before the game?” he asked looking at each of the tiny girls on the ice. His eyes landed on the forty-three skating towards the net, shooting and hitting the glass. Luke watched as her head tilted back as she smacked her stick against the ice.

“She’s having a rough morning,” she crossed her arms over her chest as she watched her little girl look towards the group on the bleachers again. She waved as she saw her dad. Luke smiled widely as he returned the wave. “She’s a little disappointed that you weren’t the one dropping her off,” Y/N let out as she turned her head to the side to meet Luke’s gaze. 

Luke took in a sharp breath as he bit his bottom lip. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?”

“Nothing, it’s fine, Luke,”

“Is it?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. She scanned his frustrated features. She clenched his jaw.

“Let’s not do this here,” she mumbled as she shifted her gaze towards the ice. The girls were all skating off the ice to allow the zamboni to clean the ice. 

“Seriously, I’m here now,” he muttered defensively. 

Y/N huffed, “I’m gonna get a hot chocolate,” she stood up and walked the other direction. Luke watched her walk away clenching his jaw. He took a deep breath as he tilted his head back. 

“Everything okay there?” Ellen asked leaning towards Luke. He shifted his gaze towards his mom. He shrugged. He shook his head as he stared towards the zamboni. “What did you do?” she asked. Luke rolled his eyes.

“I’m missing out on a lot,” he said keeping his gaze towards the ice. 

“What do you mean?” Ellen asked.

“This is the first game of Zoey’s I’ve seen this year. It seemed like every game she had this year landed on a roadtrip,” Luke explained as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Y/N does her best at recording the games but it’s not the same,” 

“What does Zoey think?” Ellen asked. Luke shook his head as he shifted his gaze towards his mom.

“She puts on a tough face but I know my girl,” he took a deep breath, “I know she’s sad that I’m not here that often.”

Ellen pouted as she wrapped her arm around his back. “She’s a tough kid, Lukey, she understands. She looks up to you and your career.”

“I don’t think my wife understands,” he mumbled just as he shifted his gaze to see Y/N walking back towards them. She was carrying three hot chocolates. Luke quickly stood up and met her halfway, taking two from her hands. 

“Thank you,” she smiled politely. Luke kept one as he handed his mom the other. Y/N sat down at the same time as Luke. He rested his hand onto her thigh as he looked towards her. She took a deep breath as she met his eye, “That was unfair of me, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying,” He swallowed hard as he leaned towards her, kissing her cheek.

“I’m sorry too. I know I can do more to help, I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing this alone,” he said as he scanned her features. She took a shaky breath as she nodded. 

It took another ten minutes before the girls reappeared on the ice. Most of the girls were only seven, but the energy in the small ice rink was electric. It was the league’s championship game afterall. She excitedly tapped her hand against Luke’s leg as Zoey skated to take the center draw. 

The game in itself was slow as their little legs could only get them so far. But Luke didn’t take his eyes off the little forty-three for a single second for her first minute on the ice. He watched her skate the puck back into the zone. Her head up, not eyeing the puck like she used to. Y/N reached for Luke’s hand and he excitedly interlocked their fingers. 

She shot the puck on the goal and it trickled into the net slowly. It was the fourth shot on net the girls had done. Luke threw his hand in the air as he cheered. He watched her skate away from the net and bow, exactly like he does after he scores. His mouth fell open as he laughed. 

“That’s a new one!” Y/N let out as she hugged Luke.

“Atta-girl Hughesy!” their head coach shouted as she took a seat on the bench. Luke smiled to himself, remembering the days when that was his nickname. 

“Luke,” Quinn hollered after him. Luke shifted his gaze towards his eldest brother, “She’s gonna be a PWHL star with that wrister,” he smiled widely.

“She wants to play for Ottawa,” he let out with a smirk, “She likes the color red.” The entire row of the Hughes family started laughing. 

It took another few minutes before Zoey was back on the ice, the game was now tied. It didn’t take long before the puck was back on her stick, “Come on, baby girl,” Luke let out as he straightened his frame to get a better look. Her teammate was wide open beside the net and she tried to pass the puck. She made the pass and her teammate scored. 

“Let’s go!” Luke cheered. “What a pass, Zo,” he let out as he looked towards Y/N. She smiled widely as she met his gaze. He took a shaky breath as the realization of what he’s been missing hit him. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked quickly as she reached her hand over, running her fingers through the ends of his hair.

“I swear we just put her in skates and now-” he trailed off. She pouted as she watched him blink back the sudden emotions.

“I know, my love,” she let out, leaning her head against his shoulder as she shifted her gaze back to the ice. Luke followed in pursuit to see Zoey have the puck all alone in the the offensive zone.

“Shoot it, Hughesy!” her head coach yelled, she listened and shot the puck on the net and scored again. She threw her arms in the air as she watched the puck go in. 

“That’s my girl!” Luke let out as he clapped his hands excitedly.

The game ended with a 4-3 win for her tiny team. After the game, still in their gear the girls met them in the lobby of the ice rink. Zoey took the cage off of her head as she stumbled towards Luke. Luke smiled widely as he knealed down, letting her jump into his arms.

Her curly hair was messy as her hair was falling out of the braid Y/N done. “You did so good, Zo,” he let out as he lifted her up in the air, a gigle fell from her lips.

“Did you see me bow?” she asked with a wide smile. He barked out a laugh.

“It was awesome!” he let out as he wiped the stray hairs away from her forehead. 

“Just like you,” she mumbled. Luke pouted as he nodded, pulling her head to rest against his shoulder.

[russian-romanova]

✧YOU MASTERLIST✧

sunday - you just have to make it through the week, because come sunday you have the whole day off to spend relaxing with your boyfriend. at least, that’s what you have planned.

the one that got away - it’s been years since you ran out on your high school boyfriend joe goldberg. now that he’s seen you again, maybe it’s time to find out if your instincts were right. 

GENERAL MASTERLIST