#i don’t really know what i feel like reading
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pipthepiper · 2 days ago
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You could make a Yandere Virgin Viktor, what he would be like if he were in love with his new assistant, but he hasn't declared himself yet..
( I don't know if you make yandere characters, if you can't do that I understand and I'm sorry for this request )
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yandere!virgin!viktor who knows — just knows — you’ll be the one to take his virginity the instant he lays eyes on you.
he’s been waiting. waiting so long for that special someone to show up — the someone who he could give himself to wholly and completely, with absolutely no regrets.
and you are that person. viktor just knows it.
it’s in the soft way you speak to him, the way your gaze lingers on him from time to time, the occasions when you subtly slide against his front to allow your plump rear to graze his cock — you want to take it, it’s so obvious; you want him to completely lose his mind as he buries himself inside your pussy over and over, as he loses every bit of his innocence with each drag and slide. as you take it from him.
you want to be the one to fuck him up entirely. and anyone could see it, right? it’s not just viktor.
he’s sure sky can see it, more than positive that jayce can too — doesn’t miss the way jayce sometimes bristles with jealousy when you snuggle yourself into viktor’s personal space and talk so low it’s like you’re whispering to him (and only him); and viktor doesn’t even try to shake off the satisfaction it makes him feel.
you’re his as much as he’s yours.
and that’s why you don’t pull away when his hand “accidentally” grazes your soft chest as he reaches past you to grab something. it’s why you don’t bring any focus to the way his eyes practically undress you, despite the fact that you’re very aware of it. it’s why you lean into his touch, why you hug him for a fraction of a second longer than anyone else at the end of the day, why you smile and giggle so much when he talks to you.
viktor knows it, but something is holding him back; maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s doubt, maybe it’s his complete lack of experience — maybe it’s all three rolled into one. even the irrefutable fact that it’s destined by the stars fails to give him the courage to act upon it.
but one day, he will. one day he will bury himself deep inside that hot cunt of yours and lose every bit of sanity and innocence within your walls; he’ll fuck you so good that all the waiting will be worth it. he’ll give you his everything until you cry from how painfully deep his love is embedded into your bones.
he’ll make you see the truth.
but for now, viktor will simply fuck his own fist while he fantasizes about you; eagerly biting into his lip and craving the day he can merge your realities together to create one entirely new, entirely unique to just you two.
because that’s how it’s meant to be. viktor knows it.
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actually my first time ever writing yandere pls be gentle </3 i actually really enjoyed writing this so thank you so much for requesting! gotta get back to the other drafts i have so many jfc thank you all for reading and i love you so much!
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moonstruckme · 3 days ago
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Hey Mae!!! I saw that the requests were open so I thought I would request something but if I misread it or something then please ignore this!
I was wondering if you could write something with reader not used to being taken care of? Like they have always taken care of others and have never had the opportunity to be taken care of so when someone else does they feel the need to do something for them in return? I was thinking of maybe Remus for this one? Or maybe a poly! Ship but you can write whoever you want!!
I understand if this is not a topic you would like to write about but I just love your writing and thought I would give it a try. Thank you for reading this anyway and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
(Sorry it’s such a long request)
No you were right lovely! Thanks for your request :)
roommate!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 625 words
You pad into the kitchen, blanket around your shoulders and half-dissolved lozenge tucked into your cheek, to find the sink clear of dishes yet again. Guilt grows like winding vines around your ribcage. 
You put on the kettle. Stand over it as the steam starts to rise, breathing in the thick air and imagining you can feel the pressure in your sinuses lessening slightly. You make a cup of turmeric tea with honey for yourself, and English breakfast for Remus, stirring in a tiny bit of sugar the way he likes. You’re careful to keep it well away from you and your potential contagious-ness while you carry it upstairs. 
You knock softly in case, but Remus is awake, as you knew he’d be. 
“Morning,” he says, looking up from his book with a smile. The sight of him, sleep-rumpled and happy to see you, is almost too much. His eyes flicker down to the mugs you’re carrying, eyebrows lifting. “For me?” 
“Mhm.” You pass it to him, ignoring his soft tutting when you turn it in your grip so the handle is facing out towards him. 
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says warmly. He blows steam off the top, honeyed eyes on yours. “I should be the one getting up to make you tea, really. How are you?” 
“I’m okay.” You shrug, taking a sip of your tea. The heat dissolves your lozenge faster, double soothing for your throat. “And you’ve done more than enough already. Sorry about the dishes.” 
Remus’ expression clouds with confusion for a moment before he realizes what you’re talking about. “Oh, I don’t mind. I wouldn’t be doing dishes if I was unwell, either.” 
“Thanks for doing them for me,” you say softly. Or you try to, but it ends in a rasp, your throat contracting against a cough that doesn’t form. You clear it embarrassedly. 
Your roommate’s brows bend with sympathy. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. “It’s really no problem. You don’t need to bring me tea just because I did a few of your dishes.” 
“I want to make it up to you.” 
His expression softens. “There’s nothing to make up, love. It’s not a debt that needs to be repaid.” 
You frown, chewing your lozenge. “At least let me make you breakfast. Is there anything you’re craving?” 
“No.” Remus smiles at you. Not quite confused, almost disbelieving. “You don’t need to make me anything. You should be resting.” 
“I’ve been resting.” You sniff, wincing at the pain it sends through your head. You’ve been either in bed or on the couch for days, and meanwhile Remus has been cleaning up your messes, keeping quiet so you can sleep, and bringing you soup from that place you like down the street. 
“It’s my turn to help now,” you say. 
“It’ll be your turn when I’m poorly and miserable.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, humming disapprovingly. You use every scrap of willpower you have left not to melt into his bed. “Listen to me, alright? I don’t mind looking after you. It’s not transactional. I washed your dishes because they were there and I had the time, and—” He gives you a playful look. “—because I know that if I were up all night coughing, I wouldn’t want to worry about dishes. Okay?” 
His eyes hold yours. You feel perhaps the most out of it you have since this illness came on. Drunk, almost. “Okay,” you capitulate. 
Remus smiles. “Thank you. So you can stop trying to think up ways to get even.” He picks up his tea. “I can see that head of yours working. Leave it alone, it’s going through enough.” 
You smile back, caught. “Thanks for all your help.” 
“Don’t worry about it, love.”
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gilbertscurls · 3 days ago
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calling after me — matt sturniolo
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summary: where you hang up on matt without saying "i love you"
The house was quiet, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of a breeze through the open windows breaking the stillness. You had spent the afternoon catching up on some reading, enjoying the peaceful solitude. Matt was out for the day, running errands and meeting with friends, and you had talked briefly before he left.
You were feeling a bit playful and decided on a light-hearted prank to pass the time. You picked up your phone, knowing that Matt would likely call you later in the day just to check in. Your plan was to hang up on him without saying “I love you” back, just to see how he would react. It was a harmless trick, meant only to spark a little fun.
A few hours later, your phone rang, and you saw Matt’s name flashing on the screen. You took a deep breath, your excitement building, and answered with your usual cheerful tone.
“Hey, Matt! How’s it going?”
Matt’s voice came through the phone, sounding upbeat. “Hey, baby! Everything’s good. Just finishing up a few things. How about you? Missed you today.”
You smiled, enjoying the sound of his voice. “I’ve been good. Just relaxing and getting some stuff done around here.”
You chatted for a few minutes, exchanging stories about your day. You could hear the warmth and affection in Matt’s voice, and you felt a pang of guilt for what you were about to do. But you pushed it aside, determined to go through with your prank.
“Well, I should probably get going,” Matt said. “I’ll be heading home soon. Love you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go through with the prank. “Okay, see you soon,” you said, and before Matt could say anything else, you abruptly hung up the call.
The sudden silence in the room felt almost too loud. You waited, your playful grin slowly fading as you wondered how Matt would react. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with a text message from Matt.
“Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”
Your heart sank as you read his message. You hadn’t expected him to be so concerned. You quickly typed a response.
“I’m sorry, Matt. I was just playing a little prank. I love you!”
Almost immediately, Matt called you back, and this time, you answered with a sense of urgency.
“Hey, Matt. I’m really sorry about that. It was just a silly prank.”
Matt’s voice was a mix of relief and slight confusion. “You scared me for a second there. I thought something might be wrong. You didn’t say ‘I love you’ back, and I was worried.”
Your heart ached at his concern. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to see how you’d react.”
Matt sighed, his voice softening. “You know, I’m glad you’re okay, but you don’t need to pull pranks like that. It’s just, when you didn’t say ‘I love you,’ it felt like something was off.”
You felt a wave of guilt and affection. “I understand. I really do love you, Matt. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”
Matt’s tone turned tender. “I love you too, baby. Just… Maybe next time, let’s skip the pranks. They’re not as fun when they make you worry.”
Your eyes softened, and she smiled. “Agreed. I’ll make it up to you when you get home. Promise.”
Matt chuckled softly. “Looking forward to it. See you soon.”
And when he returned home, you spent the evening making up for the prank with extra hugs, laughter, and heartfelt moments.
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tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim
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cowlings · 2 days ago
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may I request miss🙋🏻‍♀️ some high nsfw katsuki
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warnings for nsfw, p star! katsuki, no quirk college au, consumption of weed n alc, masturbation, fem! reader, it’s a cliffhanger i’m sorry i don’t have the brain rn
katsuki bakugo would become a porn star entirely on accident.
the topic would surge from time to time in his friend group, mostly as a joke. because "gosh, bakugo! you have the body of a porn star! you sure you're not on some secret account we don't know about?" and it really got to him. what does a porn star body look like, anyway? it's a mystery to him, as he pulls out his phone on incognito and...
he's in disbelief. he's actually looking up porn. never in his life would katsuki bakugo ever think of doing so. katsuki feels like he'd be less guilty if he's not sober whatsoever, so he's searching multiple accounts on his twitter throwaway with one hand as the other holds a small joint. it's not long before his eyes are completely red, pants and boxers slid down to his ankles, and videos recommended by kaminari going on auto-play.
but he's not satisfied, not one bit. he stopped caring for physique videos ago, he's now entertained by the poor technique. with blurry vision, he reads the replies and quote tweets, expressing their inconformities. comments like "god, her moans sound so fake", or "can't he stroke it slowly? i want it to last" make his mind run. katsuki bakugo was lost in the world of constructive criticism, while his ego began to chew at him.
he can do better than those stupid extras, right?
of fucking course. he's katsuki bakugo. but he's not gonna fucking do it. nope. never.
katsuki bakugo is a lightweight. he feels like he's sitting on the moon instead of his couch as he's gulping down some cheap rum his friends bought the week prior. and soon enough, his camera app is open, cock fully on display, and he's stroking it for a few good minutes. and the camera catches everything—how his cock twitches every time his strokes get slower, how the tip was reddish and filled with precum from the very beginning, his heavenly moans, his white-knuckled grip, and how his knees shake as he comes undone and stains his red, velvet couch.
and he has the video on twitter as a draft, half written caption and all. katsuki needs to visualize how it would look like if he posted. until he does. his finger slips, and the video and half caption are posted. at first, katsuki is mortified and doesn’t know what to do, until he sees a person liking and commenting. he decides to leave it up until he sobers up.
twelve hours and a huge hangover later, user 00179359027728kb is a twitter porn sensation.
thousands of users express their love for him, asking and demanding for more videos, as well as wishing to be his partner in crime. when katsuki realizes he can monetize this, he suddenly has dollar signs for eyes. a few videos later and katsuki bakugo is famous.
so famous, in fact, that one of your friends is in love with him, despite only seeing the lower half of his face. she raves about him to you on the daily, and as a result you find yourself creating a throwaway to watch his videos, and damn—katsuki is fucking sensational. he’s an icon, and you wish he were in your bed right then and there.
but he’s quickly discarded by your own brain as you get ready for an outing. it’s a nice, weekend night, and your friends are ready to go clubbing. once you get there it’s… okay, you suppose. dim lighting, people stuffed like sardines in a can, and the occasional couple eating their faces in the corner. you know the many cocktails you had are catching up to you once you accidentally bump into a person, and as you turn to apologize, you’re stunned.
“y’should watch where you’re going.”
“i’m so sorry, i didn’t see y—wait—are you that kb guy from twitter?”
he’s like a deer in headlights. “…that depends. who’s askin’”
“name’s y/n” you giggle, “i know you cause i have a friend who’s nuts for you.”
you officially pique katsuki‘s interest. his eyebrow rises as he smirks, “oh, is she?” he tilts his head to the side, “what about you, sweets? you watch me too?”
shyly, you nod. his smirk gets bigger as he steps closer, “she here? i don’t really do pictures, though.”
“do you do videos?”
liquid courage. it would cost you a lot to even say that sober, and you blame your drunken state for your boldness. katsuki bakugo has that fiery look in his eye as he laughs. “sure i do, sweets. you wanna be the first model for my page or is it just to spite yer friend?”
first?
only model is your goal. you’re determined to make that happen.
“bathroom? in 5?”
“ya got it, captain.”
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hmusunoo · 1 day ago
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DIET PEPSI | K.TH
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SYNOPSIS 》 Homework, exams, parents expecting the world from you and more, you just wanted a break. Better yet, you needed one. And who better than getting the resident campus bad boy plug Taehyun to help you out with that.
PAIRINGS 》 plug!taehyun x goody two shoes fem!reader
WARNINGS 》 plug taehyun, drug use, reader is really awkward and innocent she know's nothing about drugs, brief mentions of overbearing parents, unprotected sex, dry humping, car sex, corruption kink, loss of virginity, taehyun is a little bit of an asshole, cowgirl, slight hair pulling, not really proof read.
WORD CNT 》 6.3k
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LIBRARY & BOOKSHELVES
You sit at your desk, the glare of your laptop screen searing into your eyes as you attempt to focus on yet another problem set. The numbers blur together, taunting you with their complexity. To your right, your history textbook lies open, mocking you with its dense paragraphs of information you’re supposed to have memorized by tomorrow. The clock ticks steadily in the background, a relentless reminder that time is slipping away. Your parents’ voices echo in your mind, a cacophony of expectations. "You have to be the best. We’re counting on you."Their words are like invisible weights, pressing down on your chest, making it harder to breathe.  
You don’t remember the last time you felt truly free. Even when you’re not studying, the guilt lingers. Shouldn’t you be doing more? Shouldn’t you be better? The questions swirl in your head, their answers always out of reach.And so, you sit there, the cursor blinking impatiently on your half-written essay, while your stomach churns from too much coffee and too little sleep. The thought hits you suddenly: This isn’t sustainable. You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, but the words and numbers are still there, painted on the insides of your eyelids.
You need to breathe. You need to escape.
The idea comes to you like a whisper, soft but insistent. Remembering what Sakura told you earlier in the day, about the one guy in school you never thought to talk to before. Kang Taehyun. He was no good, he was what everyone around town and campus called a waste of space. You had half a mind to text Sakura asking for his number. The thought feels almost rebellious. You didn’t know a single thing about weed or how to smoke it. All you knew was that he was the one person around here you could get it from. 
Would he even sell it to you? You didn't know, but you were going to try. You grab your phone before you can second-guess yourself. You sent her a quick tentative text swelling with anxiety at the questions you knew awaited you. 
It seemed your anxiety was for nothing though, as a short and sweet text from Sakura popped up on your screen not even a minute later: ‘I knew you’d cave (; here 999-000-3456’. You knew as soon as you saw her you'd be bombarded with a multitude of questions but for now you will be thankful for the solace she gave you. 
You didn't know the proper etiquette of ordering? Weed, so you didn't think it would be best to call Taehyun. You decided a simple text would do just fine. 
You: hi, how much for weed? It’s Y/n L/n btw. 
Taehyun: wtf? 
You: Sorry, can I buy some weed from you? 
Taehyun: i dont sell that. You have the wrong number. 
You: what? My friend Sakura gave me your number. She said you would have something to help me. 
Taehyun: Are you a fucking cop or something? 
You: No???
Taehyun: Whatever. if you're serious, meet me at lakeland park in 15 minutes. If I see any weird shit I'm leaving. 
Lakeland park was nearly a fifteen minute walk from you. He was giving you no time to overthink it instead grabbing you coat in a rush and bolting out the door. You pull your coat tighter around you as the wind bites at your cheeks. A fifteen minute walk isn’t far, but on a cold, dark night like this, every step feels heavier, the shadows stretching longer. Your breath clouds in the air as you walk, the rhythmic crunch of your boots on the frost-covered pavement the only
sound accompanying you. You’re not the kind of girl who sneaks out at night, let alone to meet someone like Kang Taehyun. He’s reckless, arrogant, always in trouble, the kind of boy your parents warned you about since middle school. But tonight, the weight of the day of every perfect grade, every strained smile, every pesky exam and desk filled with homework has crushed you into doing something reckless. Something that doesn’t feel like you. The park looms ahead, its iron gates blackened and wet with the mist that clings to the air. You hesitate at the entrance, fingers curling around the cold metal. It’s not too late to turn back, you tell yourself. But that same voice whispers that turning back means retreating to the suffocating predictability of your world. Straight-A student. Perfect daughter. Reliable friend. You just couldn't do that, you needed this. Bad. 
The park is deserted. The streetlights cast pale orange pools of light onto the pathways, but the spaces in between seem darker than they should. You clutch your phone in your pocket, your thumb hovering over the power button. Just in case.
The sound of a car engine idling pulls your attention to the far side of the park. There, parked near the frozen pond, is Taehyun's car. Its headlights are off, but the faint glow of the dashboard light outlines his silhouette. You almost stop in your tracks as he leans out of the driver’s side window, his dark hair tousled, an annoyed look on his face. 
“Didn’t think you were serious” He said as you walked up to the car. “Get in.” 
You hesitate, your hand brushing the cold handle of the passenger door. Pulling it open before you could allow yourself to overthink it. “I was told you could help me.” The inside of the car is warmer than you expected, the faint scent of marijuana smoke and leather wrapping around you. 
Taehyun shrugs a bored expression on his face as he leaned his head against the leather seat. His stance made you nervous. You could feel words bubbling up inside of you waiting to jumble out in a heap just like you always did in awkward silences like this. “I Just have a lot of stuff going on with school and my parents and-” 
Taehyun snorts, his amusement cutting sharper now as he interrupts the beginning of your rambles. “Well, don’t expect a medal or anything.” He leans back in his seat, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “Hurry up. I don’t have all night. What do you want? How much?” 
“I have twenty dollars..” You trailed off your voice smaller now. 
Taehyun sent you a curt nod reaching down to the glove department between the two of you. He pulled out a bag filled with a green substance, assuming it was the weed. “Here.” He tossed the bag down in your lap lazily. You picked it up in your hands inspecting it with keen eyes. 
“Do..do i just eat it?” You asked him as you began to open the top of the baggie. 
“What?” He asked leaning forward, the nonchalant expression he once held was gone, now a look of shock in its place. “No. You smoke it.” 
“Oh.” Was the only response you could muster up. A red sheen coating your cheeks with embarrassment. “I-i don't know how.”
Taehyun laughs sharp and cold. “Little miss perfect has never smoked before what a fucking shocker.” His tone had a sarcastic lit to it. One that made your stomach churn with uneasiness. 
“I’m not a junkie.” You spit out at him. “I just need help with some stress.” 
“Are you implying that I'm a junkie?” His asked with raised eyebrows and an expression that spelled ‘i dare you to say that i am’
“N-no” You stuttered “I’m just making a statement about myself.” 
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, but Taehyun doesn’t let up. “What’s next, huh? Gonna jay-walk across the street on your way home? Or maybe—and this is a real stretch—you’ll leave your dishes in the sink overnight.” He grins, wide and mocking. “Oh no, the horror.” 
Your face burns, but you refuse to look away. “I’m not as boring as you think.”
“Sure you’re not,” he says, dragging the words out. He sends you a smirk. “Let me guess—late night study sessions? Babysitting? Volunteer work at the animal shelter?” 
You cross your arms, your nails digging into your sleeves. “I came here, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, and it’s adorable,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re like a puppy trying to bark. Cute, but not exactly convincing.” 
The jab stings more than you’d like to admit, but you steel yourself. “At least I’m trying to do something different.” 
“Oh, you’re different, all right,” Taehyun shoots back, his grin widening. “Most people would’ve bailed by now. But not you. You’re too stubborn to realize when you’re in over your head.” You fiddled with the baggie still in your hand “I mean look at you, you thought you had to eat the fucking bud.”  
You glare at him, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you even care? If I’m so ‘adorable,’ why not just drive off and leave me here? No one is forcing you to sell to me ” 
Taehyun shrugs, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful—but no less infuriating. “Maybe I’m bored. Or maybe watching you squirm is more fun than anything else I’ve got going on tonight.” 
“Whatever.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. 
“So now that we've established that you do indeed smoke the weed and don't eat it. I’ll take that twenty and be on my way now-” 
“Can you teach me how to smoke it?” The words fell from your lips like spit fire before you could even think about them. 
“Seriously.” Taehyun sent you a deadpanned look. “Do I need to like, hold your hand while we're at it?” 
“Well no..” You trailed “I’ve just never done it before..” 
“I can tell,” He said, annoyed. “Whatever I have got nothing better to do.” 
He reached back into the saame glove department that he got the weed baggie from, pulling out a small pack of papers in his fingers. 
“These are wraps” He explained handing you the wraps. “We’ll put the weed into it before we smoke it.” 
“You're going to smoke with me?” You asked Taehyun, mulling the wraps in your hand as you carefully analyzed them. 
“Yeah, im not doing this shit for nothing do i look like a fucking teacher to you.” He snapped. Taehyun reached his hand out, yanking the baggie of weed out of your hands and although he did it with minimal force the action still shook you. He really was such a stark contrast to who you were. He was rough, arrogant and cocky. You were shy, timid and very inexperienced in everything he was comfortable with. This was a recipe for disaster. 
Taehyun continued by showing you how to ground up the weed then stuff it into the little paper carefully. You watched as his lips poked out, licking the paper to seal the week inside. Really, it shouldn't be something you're finding hot but you do. 
“This is a blunt” He explained. You watched him with careful calculation soaking in everything he said to you. The blunt dangles lazily between his fingers, the faint ember glowing like a tiny, taunting beacon in the dim light of the parking lot. He’s leaning against his beat-up car, all leather jacket and sharp jawline, looking like he stepped out of a 90s music video. You tried to steer the thoughts away. Just mere minutes ago you were rolling your eyes at him for poking fun at you, now in the dim light of the overhead dash coupled with the hues of the park street lamps you had thought he looked..well, beautiful. 
“Alright, princess,” Taehyun says, his tone as sharp as the smirk tugging at his lips. “You begged me to teach you, so here you go.” 
And there you were back to rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t begging,” you snap, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. You know your voice sounds weak even as you say it, and his smirk deepens, like he’s already won some unspoken argument. The nerves for what you were about to do finally really creeping in on you. 
“Sure, sure,” he drawls, handing you the blunt like it’s some kind of sacred ritual. “Just don’t go crying to your choir group when you cough up a lung.” You take it with more confidence than you feel, holding it between your fingers the way he does, even though you’re certain it doesn’t look half as natural. You leaned slightly forward in your seat, over the glove department that was between the two of you. 
For a quick fleeting second you could have sworn you saw his eyes flicker downwards catching the flesh of your exposed skin. You wore a hoodie half zipped down to reveal your black tank top with tiny little lace on the top. Your cleavage was slightly visible at this angle and he surely noticed it. 
“Now, put it in your mouth,” he instructs, deadpan, and you glare at him because you can hear the barely contained laughter in his voice. 
“Do you always have to be this crude?” you mutter, but you follow his instructions anyway, the filter feeling foreign and dry against your lips. His eyes flicker over you, quick but deliberate, before he leans closer. You freeze, the scent of leather and marijuana smoke filling your senses as he reaches up to flick his lighter. The flame catches, small and precise, and his hand shields it as he tilts it toward you. 
“Breathe in—gently,” he says, his voice softer now, almost serious, though you swear there’s a hint of amusement dancing on his face. You inhale, maybe too sharply, because the burn hits the back of your throat like fire, and you’re coughing almost immediately, doubling over as your eyes water. 
He barks out a laugh, loud and shameless, but there’s something about the way his hand hovers just shy of your back, like he’s deciding whether or not to steady you. “I told you to go easy,” he says, shaking his head. “What, you thought you were gonna look cool on the first try?” 
“I hate you,” you choke out, still coughing, and he grins like you’ve just made his night.
“Cute.” He mutters. “That’s cute.” he says, and for a second, you think you catch something softer in his expression—like he’s a little proud of you for trying. 
You straighten up, glaring at him through watery eyes. “Let’s go again,” you say, more determined than ever. 
He raises an eyebrow, surprised but impressed. “Look at you, all rebellious now,” Taehyun teases, taking the blunt from your hands, putting it to his lips and effortlessly inhaling. You wish you could say it wasn’t so erotic looking, the way his lips envelop the blunt, sucking in and then blowing out like he's done it a million times over. Because well, he has. He looks over at you again, eyelids narrowly heavy. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, though, like he’s seeing you differently. But before you can dwell on it, he’s all smirks and sarcasm again, holding out the blunt with a mock bow. “Alright, princess. Round two.” 
And as you fumble your way through another attempt, you can’t help but notice the way his expression turned darker, almost lustful as he watched you bring the blunt back to your lips tentatively.
The second drag is smoother. Not by much, but enough that you don’t hack up your lungs again. It still burns on the way down, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue, but there’s something else now—a strange kind of lightness creeping into your chest, like you’re not quite tethered to the ground.  “See?” Taehyun says, his voice smug. “Not so hard, is it?” 
You roll your eyes, but the edges of the world are starting to blur, the space inside the car feeling smaller and softer all at once. “It’s weird,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “But… kinda nice?” 
Taehyun chuckles, resting one arm over the back of his seat as he watches you. “Yeah, it’ll do that. Just wait. You’re gonna feel like your brain’s floating soon.”And he’s right. A few minutes later, the buzzing in your chest has spread to your head, leaving you light and a little disoriented. You can’t stop yourself from giggling, the sound spilling out before you can catch it. 
“What’s so funny?” he asks, arching a brow. He took the blunt from your hands, taking a drag from it. The smoke flew out of his lips in ‘O’s’ like some kind of party trick. 
Unfamiliar heat pooled in your belly at the sight, your thighs fidgeting in your seat. “I don’t know,” you say, leaning your head back against the seat. “Everything feels… floaty. Like I’m a balloon or something.” Your eyes felt heavy as you stared at him with a dopey smile on your face. The softness of the lights from the overhead light casted down on his face like a glowing frame of his face. It was a beautifully confusing feeling this way. You had found yourself wanting something from him you've never had before, something way worse and more irreversible than smoking for the first time. 
He snorts, shaking his head. “You’re high as hell,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. A sharp keen to his eyes as they darken at the sight of you, leaning back against the seat, head turned towards him. Your glassy eyes staring up at him doe eyed.  
Your gaze lingered on the way his fingers tap absently against the steering wheel. “You’re not as much of an asshole as you act, you know,” you say, your voice unfiltered and soft. 
His head snaps toward you, his eyes narrowing. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You act all tough,” you say, shrugging. “But you’re still here. Putting up with me. Teaching me. You could’ve just told me to screw off.” 
“If I recall, I did do that when you texted me.” Taehyun says slowly, his speech becoming slightly slurred. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. His gaze flickers over you, like he’s trying to decide if you’re messing with him or not. Then he shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle, the sound sending a bolt of electricity through you and straight to your core. It was an unfamiliar feeling for you. You had never felt such intense heat and want for someone. You didn't know whether to blame the weed or your hazy mind, either way you weren't sure you minded. 
“Guess the high’s getting to you,” he says, but his voice has softened, the sharp edges dulled. His own lust lingered heavily in the compactness of the car. You are both hyper aware of the shift in the dynamic of the car. You smile lazily, sinking further into the seat. The hum of the moment feels bigger than either of you, like the space between you has shifted somehow. He handed the blunt back to you but with a shake of your head you refused it, already feeling relaxed. Your body is like jelly as you slumped against the seat of the car. 
You tilt your head to look at him, his profile is sharp in the dim light, the amber glow of the lighter from earlier still dancing in your mind. “Why are you staring?” he asks, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. 
“I’m not,” you lie, even though you can feel the weight of your own gaze on him. 
“Yeah, you are,” he says, leaning back slightly in his seat, his fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel. “What’s going on in that good little head of yours, huh?”
You open your mouth to answer, but the words get stuck somewhere in your throat. The buzz in your chest has spread, making everything feel too big and too small all at once. You shift in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you are to him, how the scent of smoke and leather clings to the air between you. “I don’t know,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. 
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches you with that same unreadable expression. And then, like the space between you is pulling him in, he leans forward, just a fraction—enough to make your breath catch. “You’re high,” he says, almost like he’s reminding himself. “That’s all this is.” His breath fanned against your lips close enough that even a mere inch forward your lips would be touching. 
You shake your head, though the movement feels sluggish. “It’s not just that,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. 
Taehyun’s hand twitches where it rests on the steering wheel, and for a moment, he looks almost unsure, like he’s teetering on the edge of something he can’t pull back from. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want this.” 
“I do,” you insist, your gaze locking with his. The pull between you feels magnetic now, impossible to ignore. The heat in your belly felt like fire only being fueled by the constant darkening of his eyes and his pure adultured need for you. You may be inexperienced and naive but you were stupid, he wanted you as badly as you wanted him. 
He lets out a low, almost defeated sigh, his fingers running through his messy hair. “You’re gonna regret this Tomorrow.” But he doesn’t move away. 
You lean forward first, closing the already minimal space between you. It’s tentative, the barest brush of your lips against his, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull back. But then he doesn’t. 
Taehyun’s lips press against yours, slow and deliberate, like he’s testing the waters. There’s a hesitance in the way his hand hovers near your cheek, as though he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. But when you don’t pull away—when you lean into him instead—he seems to let go of whatever was holding him back. 
The kiss deepens, his hand finally coming to rest on your jaw, his thumb brushing against your skin. There’s nothing rushed about it, no desperation, just a quiet intensity that sends your heart racing. You don’t know if it’s the blunt, the high, or him, but the world outside the car has completely disappeared. It’s just the two of you now, tangled in this strange, unspoken pull that you can’t quite explain. 
“You’re gonna blame this on the high,” he murmurs with a groan. “If we don’t stop, I don't know how far it will go, princess.” 
You shake your head, your eyes still closed. “Don’t stop.” for a moment, neither of you says anything, the quiet hum of the night wrapping around you like a blanket. 
He doesn’t move away. If anything, he’s closer now, his hand sliding from your jaw to cup the side of your neck. His thumb brushes just under your ear, and the touch sends a shiver skimming down your spine. “How far have you gone before?” 
You shake your head “Nothing further than kissing.” 
He pulls back a small look of bewilderment on his face “Are you sure about this?” 
You nod, disconnecting yourself for a second to look at him, although your mind was hazy nothing about the decision to go further with Taehyun was, you were sure you wanted this. “Yes” You spoke with a surge of confidence. “I want this, so bad.” 
Taehyun reconnects your lips in a messy entanglement of lips and teeth, his hands grabbing at your waist to pull you closer to him even in the confines of his car. “Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. It’s not a demand—it’s a plea, barely restrained, like he’s fighting himself and losing.
You don’t tell him to stop. You can’t. Instead, your hands find their way to him, one resting on his shoulder, the other fisting the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll pull away if you let go. “I’m not going to,” you whisper, and your voice shakes, but not with fear. 
He kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s been holding himself back and can’t anymore. There’s nothing hesitant about it now—his lips press firmly against yours, and you meet him with the same urgency, like you’ve both been waiting for this moment longer than either of you is willing to admit. 
Taehyun’s free hand slides to your waist, gripping you just hard enough to make your breath hitch. The space between you feels nonexistent, every inch of him pressing into you in a way that’s both overwhelming and addictive. You’re not thinking anymore—not about where you are, not about how this started, not about the million ways this could go wrong. All you know is the way his hands feel against you, the way his lips move like he’s memorizing the shape of yours, the way your entire body feels like it’s on fire. 
You tug at his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. Taehyun’s fingers dig into your waist, grounding you even as the world feels like it’s spinning out of control. The high from the weed makes your skin a buzz and your mind spin. 
“You’re gonna ruin me,” Taehyun mutters against your lips, his voice rough and raw, like the confession slipped out without his permission.It makes you want him even more. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, pouring every ounce of emotion you can’t put into words into the way your lips move against his. Your hips raise slightly, searching for some semblance of friction. 
The small space of the car feels suffocating now, the air thick and heavy as his hand slides up your side, brushing just beneath the hem of your sweatshirt. His touch is searing, leaving trails of heat in its wake, and you arch into him instinctively, a soft sound escaping your lips.
“Careful,” Taehyun murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, but there’s something else there, too—a flicker of restraint, like he’s holding himself together by a thread. “You don’t know what you’re starting.” 
“Maybe I do,” you whisper, your voice steady even as your heart pounds in your chest. He had you craving something you had never indulged in before, something you knew you would miss as soon as it ended. 
For a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s trying to read your mind, to figure out if you mean it. Whatever he sees in your expression seems to be enough, because his lips crash into yours again, his hands gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He grabbed at your sweater, unzipping it until your frilly tank top was revealed underneath. When his lips leave yours, they trail along your jaw, slow and deliberate. 
The feeling of his lips sends a shiver down your spine, and you tilt your head instinctively, giving him more access.“God, you’re dangerous,” he mutters against your skin, his voice rough and almost reverent. His hands move up the expanse of your body and torso cupping your breasts in his hands. A gasp leaves your lip, a chill crawling up your spine. 
“These fucking tits.” Taehyun growled. “How has no man ever touched these before?” Your chest heaved as explored the entirety of your upper body, cradling your breasts in his hands. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and the high from the weed feels distant now, overshadowed by the way he’s making you feel. Every nerve in your body is alive, hyper-aware of his every touch, every breath, every unspoken word.
“Take this off.” He growls his lips ghosting over your collarbone as he tugged at your tank top in his big hands. You met his hands at the hem of your tank top, lifting it in one fail swoop over your head. Your top half is now completely bare and out in the open for his eyes to see. 
You didn't think his eyes could darken anymore then they already have but to now avail his irises became nearly black pools of desire. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest as your breath left you in harsh pants. He made quick work of running his hands to his grey sweatpants, yanking them down just enough to pull himself out of his boxers. His cock spring free, the rip red and angry. 
Your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. He smirked at you with a knowing look. “Cute.” He muttered. “You never seen a dick before or something.” You could tell he meant it as a joke but one single look at your expression made him realize just how little experience you’ve had. 
“I..” You trailed “I haven’t.” Your face was flush red from the embarrassment of your admittance, you hadn't even really watched porn. Seeing a dick was so obscure to you, so unheard of. 
“Come here.” Taehyun softly said as he held his hand out for you to take. You lifted your legs to gently maneuver your body over the center console of the car. The sudden movement coupled with the high that was still lingering had you feeling a bit dizzy. 
You sat on Taehyun’s lap. His hard cock now resting against your thigh. Awkwardly and out of instinct you lifted your arms to cover your breasts that were now smack dab in his face. A man’s dream you thought to yourself. 
“No, don’t do that princess.” He took a hold of your arms gently in his hands pulling them back until they were at your sides. “Don’t hide.” He toyed with the hem of your shorts and he brought his other hand to your hips, gently guiding your hips to rock back and forth against his cock. 
A gasp fell from your lips at the movement. He started slowly rocking your hips steadily against his to create just the perfect amount of friction. Your clit throb in your shorts wishing you were completely bare against him. 
“That feel good?” He asked you with a grit to his teeth trying his hardest to keep his groans at bay. You nodded dumbly, a whimper falling from your lips as you continued to allow him to guide your hips against his. 
“I..i think i need more.” Your voice was airy, a sigh that sounded a lot like a moan slipped from your lips. “More, please.” 
“Hm.” He hummed grabbing ahold of your hips with both of his hands, his grip tighter than it had been all night. “Pretty little princess wants more huh?” He was teasing you, rocking your hips faster against him. 
“Y-yes!” You squealed, as a foreign feeling twisted in your stomach, the intensity knocking you forward trying to steady yourself on his chest. 
The sudden stop of your hips had you whining as Taehyun roughly gripped your hips in his hands stopping your movements. “The first time you cum will be with my cock buried deep inside of you. Not from you grinding on it like a needy little whore, do you hear me?” 
“Taehy-” You began to whine. 
“Do.you.hear.me?” He asked again tougher this time as he snaked his hand up your neck to the nape grabbing a fist full of your hair in his hands yanking your face to be level with his. 
“Yes!” You repeated for the second time tonight. “Want your cock..” 
“Good girl.” Taehyun let go of your hair soothing the spot with his palm. “Let's get these shorts off now, yeah?” You nodded with a hum as you lifted yourself off his lap to give Taehyun easy access to slide your shorts and panties down at the same time. 
“Are you going ok?” He ran his hands up and down your sides soothingly. 
“I am” You reassured him. You bent your face down to meet his lips in a short kiss as you pulled away Taehyun smirked, chasing your lips with his own, causing a giggle to leave you. 
His hand reached down, carefully circling your heat with his fingers. “You're so wet.” He hissed, dipping a finger slightly inside your awaiting core. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him toy with your pussy lip and clit delicately. Your legs slightly shook from the touch of him. 
“I think you’re ready.” He nodded more to himself than you. “You think you’re ready baby?” The pet name caught you off guard stunting your ability to answer so instead you nod. 
“I need your words.” He said, more harsh than you expected. 
“I’m ready.”  You confirmed. His hands found your hips once again, lifting you up until the tip of his dick was lined up at your entrance. The knot in your stomach tightened as the reality of what was about to happen set in. You were really about to lose your virginity. Here in a car, in the middle of the night to a boy you had just officially tonight. The thought excited you? It was so purely unlike you that you couldn’t wait to do it. 
Taehyun helped guide you down on his length, the stretch of him burning as you slowly moved down inch by inch on his cock. “Oh.” You squeaked, using Taehyun’s shoulder as leverage. “Oh-” You said again. The one syllable seems like the only word you could even begin to utter. 
“Careful.” Taehyun grit the words out. “That’s it.” 
The feeling of him inside you had tears pricking your eyes as the intensity of the moment took over. 
“Stay still princess” Taehyun’s voice was soft as he gave you instructions on how to take him, talking you through it. You sat still on his lap as his cock was not fully satiated inside of you. The feeling was odd..a good odd. You felt full, entirely consumed by him. The dead of night surrounding you adds onto the ambience. 
“Move whenever you want sweetheart, you're in charge.” The heat of his hands on your bare skin coupled with the heat in the car and the weed lingering in your veins gave you the boost of confidence you needed to lift yourself up and slam yourself back down on his cock. Carefully at first, testing the waters. Taehyun’s grunt of pleasure only adds to the fire growing inside of you. You needed to make him feel good, it was now the most important part of this. 
“Fuck” He grunted as he leaned his head back against the seat heavily lidded eyes looking up at you as you bounced atop him. The pleasure was creeping up on you, the burn now a dull feeling easily forgotten about. “Keep doing that.” 
His praise served as a catalyst for you to keep moving your hips up and down on his cock. Your thighs shaking at the overwhelming pleasure and the workout you were receiving. 
“So good.” You whimpered out, the only sounds around you were the ones of the constant smacking of your ass against his lap and the moans you let slip from your mouth uncontrollably. 
“Good girl.” Taehyun babbled, resetting his arms behind his head, watching you. “That’s a good fucking girl, fucking that cock for the very first time.” 
“Am i doing good?” You chased his praise almost as fast as you chased your impending orgasm, the heat pooling in the bottom of your belly like the fire getting ready to boil over and explode. 
“Yeah baby, you're doing so good. Keep bouncing on my cock. Just like that.” Soft mews left your lips reaching your fingers out to drag down Taehyun’s clothed chest. 
“Can I help you out?” Taehyun pants desperately pawing at your hips. “If it hurts, let me know, I'll stop right away.” 
“Ok.” You whimpered pathetically. You'd allow him to do anything to you right now just as long as you continued to feel as good as you were. His hands gripped your hands tightly in his hands before shooting his hips up with one single snap. 
A gasp of surprise left your lips as he reached angles you didn't even know was possible. 
“Holy-” You breathed out “Fuck, fuck.” 
Taehyun’s hips snapped up drilling his cock into your weeping hole over and over. His balls lewdly slapping the underside of your ass. “I’m close.” He hissed, not letting up on his thrusts. 
“M-me too, I think.” You winced at the mixture of pain and pleasure consuming you. The feeling that bubbled up inside of you waiting to explode like a ticking time bomb. 
“This tight fucking pussy wont ket me go.” Taehyun’s words sent you flying towards your orgasm, becoming a mess of yourself on top of him. He followed suit not longer after pushing his hips inside of you a few more times before stilling himself. 
“Fuck.” He huffed rubbing the sides of your thighs as rested your head against his chest trying to catch your breath. 
“Are you ok?” He asked with a slightly worried tone. 
“So good.” You said raising your head to look at him. “Thank you” 
“For the sex?” He quirked an arrogant brow at you, a laugh bubbling in his chest. 
“Well, yes and the weed, and teaching me how to smoke it and-”
“Ok, ok” He laughed. “No need to thank me so much.” 
“But I do.” You said with sincerity. “You helped me alot tonight.” 
“I can always do it again..” He trailed off with a slightly nervous tone in his voice. 
“Is this a drug dealer's way off asking me out after taking my weed and literal virginity in his car?” You joked, sending him a goofy grin. He shrugged in an attempt at being nonchalant despite his best efforts. 
“Is this the goody two shoes princess saying yes?” His tone was just as goofy and airy as the both of you felt. 
“It is.” You smiled at him. “Yes, a thousand times over.” 
“Eager are we?” Taehyun jokes. You laughed, hitting his chest lightly. “Shut up and fuck me again Taehyun.” 
“Don't have to ask me twice.” 
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hyunsvngs · 14 hours ago
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𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚, 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 - han jisung x fem!reader
wc: 2.4k
a/n: pwp based off of two images i saw of jisung's boobs in concert and then i went haywire and wrote THIS... MERRY CHRISTMAS !!! 🎄🎅 please read the warnings! 18+ SMUT MDNI!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: ROLEPLAY where jisung is santa for no particular reason, nipple play (m rec), oral (m rec), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (i’m having a white christmas!), dirty talk, overall kind of not extreme but maybe a bit of d/s dynamics (both switchy)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
you don’t know what game you’re playing tonight.
jisung’s due back home any minute now. he’s been gone a few hours, last minute christmas shopping with friends, and he claimed he had a surprise for you. you asked to go with, claiming you needed to get a few things too, but jisung had simply told you he had a plan. it’s unusual behaviour for him, but he’s always doing sweet things for you - this could just be another one of those times.
still, you’re bent underneath the tree placing presents in nothing but your nightie and some fuzzy socks. you’ve had to light the fireplace to warm yourself up, but jisung always likes it when it’s cozy anyway. you expect that he’ll arrive home tired, but wanting, from the infrequent texts he’d sent you about missing you. there’s nothing you like more than snuggling with your favourite person on your favourite holiday, even if he does get a little too warm too quickly and ends up being more of a human radiator than anything else. 
once you’ve finally found places for all of the gifts, you’re able to wriggle yourself outwards. with the multicoloured lights on and the fireplace lit, along with your many other trinkets… well, it may look like christmas has exploded in your living room. still, you’ve always loved christmas. you adjust a little santa ornament on your fireplace and allow yourself to lay on the couch, pulling a thick blanket over your body. it’s comfortable.
unfortunately it may be a little too comfortable. you appear to have dropped off, because when you wake up it’s a little darker outside. you hear the click of the lock, the sound of the door swinging open and heavy boots stomping in. you sit up, drowsy with sleep but ready to greet your boyfriend. 
a few hums are heard from the door, soft and melodic, and you smile. it’s nice. you push yourself up, padding over to the front door, and- oh. 
santa’s here.
sure, he looks a little different. under the fluffy white beard and velvet red costume you can catch glimpses of him. a snippet of black ink across honey toned skin when he moves, the sight of his chain dangling beneath the fabric - it’s him, your santa claus, you know it, and suddenly it all makes sense.
“santa!” you grin, walking over to wrap your arms around his middle. he lets out a small ‘ooph’, pretending he’s winded, but two toned arms wrap around your frame right back. “you’re here! early, too.”
“i had to be early for my favourite girl,” you feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks against your ear, and you nuzzle the fabric of his suit. over the time you’ve known your santa, you’ve learned he can be a little sleazy - you’re pretty sure he’s making his voice deeper on purpose, and his fingertips are already tugging up on your nightie to check if you have panties on. it doesn’t surprise you. “why don’t we go take a seat?”
you’re guided back over to your sleeping spot with a firm palm on your back, and you realise he’s got his gloves on too, black faux leather that you can feel even through your nightie. you stumble a little and santa catches you, using the position to sit down and pull you down with him.
one of those sinful gloved hands come up to push your hair out of your face. it feels a little fucked up you’re getting aroused over this, over fucking around with someone who isn’t really your boyfriend, but he meets your gaze with his own. the look in his eyes lets you know that it’s all intentional. “have you been nice this year, baby?”
“i’ve been so nice this year, santa,” you wiggle onto his lap, legs splaying over the side. you receive a gummy smile in return and the feeling of his hand moving up your thigh. it’s sleazy, and you’re slicking up already. it smears against your thighs. “don’t you remember? just last week, i fingered your asshole until-“
“al-right,” he stammers. “doing naughty things isn’t very nice, y’know?! it’s actually the polar opposite. hah, polar.”
his facade is cracking, and you giggle, letting your hands run over his chest. you can feel the muscles beneath his suit. “i thought it was nice, santa. you seemed to like it. a lot, actually, if the noises were telling at all.”
“u-um, you’re not- this isn’t how this is meant to go,” his eyes are wide and ever so brown, the multicoloured lights bouncing off of them. he looks so earnest, almost innocent - if you’re pretending you can’t feel his cock hardening underneath your ass. “i’m meant to- you’re- baby.”
you’re already moving, swinging your legs back over to kneel on the floor in front of him. despite his protesting, he’s letting you, always pliant. his arms fall to his sides and his knees kick apart. his boots make a heavy thud on the wooden floor, the same platform boots you thought he’d retired years ago, and you want to ask him about them but he’s moving your hands to his cock. 
while your santa is pliant, you are too, and you give in.
you pull his trousers down, letting the waistband snap just underneath his balls. the pressure pushes his cock upright for you, hard and plump and leaky, and you engulf it with your mouth without a further thought.
“this is why y-you’re my favourite,” he gasps shakily, thighs spreading further. with a flick of his hand, the red velvet jacket falls open, and you’re met with the tattooed honey skin you’ve been craving all along. he’s built, chest plump enough to make your mouth water, and he rubs his thumb over his nipple while you suckle on his cockhead. “that’s it, my sweet baby. suck santa’s cock, just like that.”
your jaw aches already, head reeling from how fast everything is going. you pull off with a wet pop, and with your spare hand you stroke the shaft erratically, your spit acting as lubricant. it’s all too wet for him and his hips buck upwards into your grip. a sharp whine leaves his lips, preceding the heavy breaths that he lets out. 
you can’t help but let your other hand move down to his balls, running over the taut skin there. his thighs shake, and you pump harder, squeezing deliberately to watch how precum forms on the head.
“come and kiss me,” he orders, pushing your hand away to replace it with his own. he looks the image of debauched, cockhead ruddy red and sensitive, and he pulls you upwards impatiently to his mouth. you’re laying over him like this, tits pressed against his through your nightie, and he finally leans up to press his lips against yours. immediately, the kiss is filthy, his tongue pressing into your mouth with the deep moans and muffled noises he lets out at the feeling of his own grip. 
it’s not long before he’s pushing the same gloved hand past your nightie again, wet from your spit and his precum, finding that you definitely are not wearing panties. he moans into your mouth again, digits finding where you’re wet and aching for him. his lips clack against yours messily as he pushes two fingers inside of you - it’s just a precaution, not meant to be anything more than a quick stretch. still, when your fingers scrabble for purchase on his chest and your nails dig into the plump flesh, he finally pulls away from the kiss and sinks a third finger inside of you. the faux leather is warm from his natural body heat, and you gasp, hips grinding into his palm rhythmically. 
“f-fuck, that’s- you’re stretching my pussy out so good, santa,” you keen, keeping your words filthy because you know how he likes it. as you expected, he groans, head tossing back against the sofa and causing his hat to slide onto one side. his cock aches, pressing against your thigh. you can’t help but rub against it just to be cheeky, and his thumb comes to your clit as a punishment. “o-oh! oh, santa, please, will you give- give me more? i want your cock, please!”
“yeah, of course, my baby, of course, just- get this off? get it off,” he’s impatient, gripping at your nightie and pulling it each and every way until you finally sit back and yank it off of your body. instead of wasting any time, your santa is shifting forward, letting his fingers slip from your soaked hole. 
he slides inside at the same time his pouty lips envelop your nipple. he’s always been engrossed with your chest, just as much as you are with his. while he’s letting you adjust, his hands move to your ass and squeeze the flesh, eyes fluttering shut as if he’s sated just being inside of you - you know him better than that, though. once you’ve readjusted the red hat on his head, you start to move your hips.
“oh, that’s it,” it’s muffled against your chest, but you hear it, along with the deep groan that leaves his chest. he tries to remain in control, hips moving against yours. “this fuckin’ pussy. been needin’ it all day, baby, you don’t even know.”
“that’s why you came early, santa, right?” you say shakily. the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit in a way that has your eyes watering, and you quicken the pace, pussy clenching down on his shaft. “needed your baby’s pussy too bad. it’s here now, santa, why don’t you just take it?” 
“fffuck,” he leans back on his forearms, nodding, eyes scrunched shut. you can tell he wants to take, to force your pussy to take his thick cock, but the feeling of it all is too pleasurable to think. he’s always been a bit too sensitive. you can tell it’s not going to be a long one already, and your hand snakes down to rub fast circles on your clit. “ah, it’s so- it’s so wet, baby, so wet around my cock.”
you moan, moving like a woman possessed, hips rutting into a fast bounce that has him pistoning in and out of you. it’s then that he takes a little more control, grip moving back to your ass to bounce you on top of him. his cock hits deeper like this when he’s pulling you back and forth, and your toes curl in your socks, nose scrunching at the wet sounds reverberating throughout the room. it really is so wet, and you only have your santa to blame.
your hand slaps over your clit just after he opens his eyes, and they narrow, fixating on your pussy. his chest is heaving, and then in a split move, he’s pushing you down flat onto the sofa.
“keep rubbing it, keep- keep going, i need to cum,” he babbles, shaking his head. he’s out of it, and both gloved hands pin your hips down so he can take it from you. his hips move erratically, balls slapping against your skin, and with one hand you do exactly as he said, rubbing the little bundle of nerves until you’re wailing into his neck. the other hand splays against his stomach, almost as if you’re pushing him back, but he’s too strong for that. “it’s- me, now baby, talk to me. talk to hannie, my baby, c’mon.”
“h-hannie,” you hiccup, tears biting at your eyes. “‘s so good, jisungie, baby. i think i’m gonna cum.”
“yeah? why don’t you cum for me?” jisung questions. the white pom pom of his hat swings in front of his eyes, but jisung’s fed up by now, ripping the fabric from his head and tossing it to the side. it’s nice to see him properly, his face unobscured by taunting red fabric, and he gives you a gummy smile.
the sincerity of him, your boyfriend, your one true love is ultimately what does you in. your gummy walls clench around him, finally letting go, and your fingers slide messily across your clit until you’re finished crying through your orgasm. jisung isn’t far behind, and his lips come to kiss your forehead as he holds you close and pumps you full of his cum.
unceremoniously, jisung collapses with another ‘ooph’, sweaty chest pressing against yours. you know it’s intense for him to cum so quickly, and you run your nails up his back underneath the jacket to soothe him. he hums and wiggles his hips around in glee, as if he’s not still inside of you.
“so,” you yawn, letting your nails run down to scratch over his ass. jisung’s hips buck into you this time. “where did the santa idea come from?”
jisung leans back and rubs your nose with his, giggling. “no idea. it wasn’t even the original plan.”
“it wasn’t?” you gasp, attempting to sit up. “then what was it?”
“what was what?” jisung furrows his eyebrows. you groan.
“what was the original plan, jisungie?”
“oh, that!” he slides out of you, and you try not to giggle at the way he surges off of the sofa with his dick still out. “i’ll show you, just wait there!”
you really do giggle when he runs out of the door, tripping over his trouser legs. you think he’s going to return with the surprise, but then he pokes his head round the door, that same wide grin on his face. 
“merry christmas by the way, my baby. i love you.”
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burnforyou · 1 day ago
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TUTOR - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER
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!SUMMARY! this COULD be a part 2 to creep but it can also be read as a stand alone. nerdy Luigi is tutoring reader and he gets head for the first time!!! he's subby (ish) and innocent <3 enjoy!
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“do you think you understand it now?” he asks, putting his pen down. you hesitate.
“can i ask you something?” you look up from the chemistry papers scattered on your desk to his face. how is he so pretty? he looks so ravishing in his perfect maroon sweater with a button up underneath. the color makes his skin glow.
from the moment he walked into your house, you'd been trying to come up with a plan to get him into your bed. and when you saw how hard he was under the table, you knew he was feeling the same way. had you purposefully worn small pajama shorts to try and tease him? yeah, maybe, but your plan was pretty successful, so you weren't ashamed.
little did you know, he's been hard since before he even entered your house. did the sight of your practically bare legs make it worse? yeah, definitely, but he'd been trying to calm himself down all day but nothing has seemed to do the trick. just the thought of walking into your home has had him worked up all week. when he saw you requesting tutoring he almost cried.
“sure, what’s up?” you place your manicured hand on his thigh and he stiffens. his eyebrows furrow and his dark eyes flicker between your hand and face.
“are you a virgin?” he freezes. is it that obvious? he sits there in silence for a few seconds, frozen. his mind goes completely blank, what do I even say? fuck, I have the most beautiful, smart, woman sitting in front of me and she wants to know if I'm a virgin?
“you don’t have to answer that, it’s just that-“
“i am.” he spoke up, looking away shamefully.
“no, no, no, i’m not judging you. i just noticed that, you uh, are kinda in a sticky situation down there and, i haven’t even touched you.” he looks down and tries to adjust the tent his hard cock has made in his jeans.
“don’t be ashamed," you slide your hand further up his thigh and move closer to him, "I just want to repay you for helping me so much, with chemistry and calc, if that's okay with you."
"yeah," he squeaks out, embarrassed at how high pitch his voice comes out. you suggest going up to your bedroom and he complies, following behind you silently. he struggles to tear his eyes away from your ass, watching it move up the stairs.
he plops down on the edge of the bed and you push him back until he's sat against your headboard. you crawl up the bed to him and sit on his lap. his hips buck and his mouth opens at the sudden friction on his already hard cock. he felt so overwhelmed: your scent surrounding him, being in your bed, you on top of him, for fucks sake.
you lean in and capture his lips with yours, his lips naturally molding against yours. you press your hands lightly on the sides of his neck. his hands stay awkwardly at his sides, gripping onto your sheets every time you grind on him through your thin pajama shorts. you break the kiss and smile down at him, holding his head carefully. he looks up at you with his doe eyes and a million thoughts swirl through his mind.
"you can touch me, you know that right?" you whisper.
he nods silently and hesitantly places his hands on your hips.
“has anyone ever touched you before?”
he shakes his head. you lean down and kiss him again. this time, he breaks the kiss with a question.
"are you sure you want to do this? you don't have to repay me for anything."
"oh I'm sure, I've been plotting on you for a while now."
"r-really?" he struggles to get out, shock evident in his voice.
"don't act all innocent now, I know that you think about me. I see you in class, looking at me the whole time. its just surprising that you're a virgin, especially for a handsome guy like you." his face flushes at your compliment, his lips threatening a smile. "now, let's get this sweater off, hm?"
he allows you to tear his maroon sweater off his body and discard it on your floor. you admire his abs by running your hands up and down his chest, content with yourself. he sits there and wonders how much you truly know about him, if you know he's truly a creep, deep down.
"do you want to know a secret?" you say, looking down at him. he nods eagerly and you laugh.
"you're so eager," you giggle. you lean down, putting your lips right on his ear teasingly. "I know that you watch me through my window."
his whole body stiffens and all the color drains from his face.
"I touched myself too that night." you say, smiling down at him. he's not sure what to do, whether he should be happy or ashamed. before he can come up with something to say, you're dragging your hands down his body, kissing all over him. you smirk as you kiss directly down his happy trail, finally reaching his waist band. you fiddle with the button and pull the zipper down smoothly.
he quickly picks his hips up, pulling down his jeans and boxers at the same time. you lick your lips at the sight of his heavy cock, so hard it sprang against his stomach.
you leaned up, connecting your lips with his once again and simultaneously reached down to grasp his cock. he broke the kiss with a gasp and he screwed his eyes shut tight at the feeling of your soft hand gripping him.
"you're so big," you say, looking down to admire his pulsing cock in your hand. his tip shone with pre-cum, red and needy. he whimpered at your compliment, his face almost as pink as his dick.
you bent down, pressed a kiss on his tip and licked down his length. he let out a noise similar to a whine.
"please," he whimpered. you finally wrapped your lips around his tip, looking up at him to watch his reaction. he squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. he instantly bucked his hips into you and groaned, your mouth welcoming him further.
"fuck," his hands flew to your head, gripping onto your hair. you wrapped your hand around his hairy base and moved your lips up and down his girth, settling into a gentle but fast pace.
"baby, oh," he whimpers, letting out a low, guttural sound when his tip hits the back of your throat. his chest rises and falls faster than he thought was humanly possible.
you keep taking him so deep it has tears streaking down your face and saliva down onto his balls. it felt like something straight out of his fantasies.
"y/n, just like that," his moans fill the room, making you weak. you come up for air, your lips letting go of his cock with a satisfying pop. he removes his hand from your hair and caresses your wet face.
"you're so perfect." he says, smiling. “it feels so much better than i’ve ever imagined.”
you go back down on his cock, completely taking him once again, never breaking eye contact. his tip hits the back of your throat and this time it has him shooting hot cum down your throat. he lets out a shocked groan and his head falls back, his Adams apple bobbing. you swallow all of it and lick down his cock, cleaning him off completely.
"fuck, I'm so sorry y/n, I didn't mean to cum so quick." he looks away, ashamed. you reach for him and force him to look at you.
"you're alright," you say, giggling again.
"it just felt so good, nothing like I've ever imagined." he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck. he suddenly realizes how vulnerable he is, sitting on your bed completely naked and fucked out of his mind while you're completely dressed and satisfied. he likes the power you hold over him.
months of yearning for you have all built up to this moment. he reaches for you and swings your leg over his lap, planting you on his already re-hardening cock. he leans into you and kisses you, finally full of confidence and a need to have all of you.
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have you ever tried this one?
I AM UNSTOPPABLE!!!!!!!!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS FREAKS!!!!!
!TAGS!
@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood
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sweetestberryofthebunch · 2 days ago
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Give It To Someone Special (Detective!Agnes x f!Reader)
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You take your fiancée home before the holidays, but your parents and Agnes have never been on the same wavelength. On the drive back home, you offer her the best remedy to release her tension that you know.
Content/Warnings: Smut, Rough sex, Car Sex, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Age Gap Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Choking, Spit Play, Degradation kink, They fuck nasty but they really love each other
Thank you so much to @ragnarockz @msharkness @lotsofmilfs for beta reading and helping me get this out in time for the holidays! I appreciate all of you angels so much! ♡
I‘m actually home for Christmas for the first time in years and the amount of time driving around to meet family that finds me odd and off putting inspired me, but like make it horny and enjoyable. My Yuletide Gift, from me to you! Enjoy my loves, happy holidays!
It was raining. Of course it was, you were in early December, and thanks to climate change, Westview barely got an actual white Christmas anymore. Let alone snowy December Days. Driving even further down South to the town your parents lived in certainly hadn’t helped. Miniscule raindrops hit the windshield silently, making the view muddy. The road was concealed by the mist like rain, the cars headlights piercing through just enough to safely follow the path.
Some young pop stars had covered Last Christmas, and the radio played it for the third time today. If dinner had been better, you might have sung along. But, as per usual, bringing Agnes out to see your parents had gone like shit, so you didn’t exactly feel the holiday spirit right now. The rain didn’t exactly help either.
Agnes‘ hair was in a low ponytail, a few strands falling loose around her face, forehead creased stoically as her eyes were fixed on the road. A few days ago, you‘d found the first grey hairs on her head while laying entangled in the morning, pressing little kisses to the crown of her head as she’d frowned and told you to get box dye immediately.
Now, the grey had disappeared between the rich brown of the rest of her hair,. If if you didn’t know you probably wouldn’t even notice them at all. However, the frown on her face remained. Just, it wasn’t her own greys frustrating her anymore. It was your parents. You licked your lips, resisting the urge to reach for her hand. Not while she was driving in weather conditions like this.
„Thank you“, you said instead, breaking the silence that had lingered since you‘dyou'd entered the car in your parents driveway. „For coming with me. I know you don’t exactly get along.“
Her jaw tensed, you could hear the motor give a tiny roar when her foot pressed down on the gas a little harder. You swallowed, eyes focusing back on the dark road before you. The highway was empty this late on a Sunday, especially in this weather. It was early December, most people hadn’t gone to visit family yet. You just liked to get it done early.
„I don’t mind your dad most of the time“, Agnes huffed, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. „But today … was just uncalled for.“
„What did he say?“, you asked without looking at her, wanting to give her the space to dodge the question if she didn‘t want to talk about it.
„He probably just had too much beer.“, Agnes snarled, but you could tell it still bothered her, „Said the ring you’re wearing is a seal of your fate, that you’ll be in the prime of your life stuck taking care of some bitter old cop. That I‘m stealing your best years and you don’t even realise it.“
You bit the inside of your cheek, anger boiling in the pit of your stomach. „I‘m sorry. He shouldn’t feel entitled to say something like that, alcohol or not. That’s messed up.“
She scoffed, shoulders rolling back. „It’s fine. I know your mom doesn’t like me either.“
„That’s not true“, your tone didn’t even convince yourself. Your mother was better at pretending, but even you knew the smile she put on whenever Agnes and you drove down once or twice a year was a forced one. That she wished the person you brought home was anyone but the rough around the edges woman besides you. Like it was any of her business who made you happy.
Agnes scoffed. „I know she doesn’t show you her brunch friends’ shiny young sons for shits and giggles.“
„Agnes.“
The rain had intensified, thick drops of rain splattering against the windshield. Another roar of the engine. She kept her eyes focused on the road, gripping the steering wheel a lot tighter than she had to. You swallowed.
„You know none of their shit matters, right?“, A heavy sigh left your lips when she wouldn’t even glance at you, „My dad is talking out of his ass and my mother still thinks maybe the whole liking women thing will be over soon, as if we haven’t been engaged for two years now.“
Agnes stayed silent, eyes sternly focused on the dark road, only the sound of raindrops splattering onto the windshield between you. And that cover of Last Christmas, again.
You passed a road sign. A parking lot and a phone cell just a few miles ahead of you.
„Let’s stop there“, you proposed, watching the way Agnes pressed her lips together in a harsh line. „You know I don’t like when you drive angry.“
„I‘m not angry“, she replied immediately, and as if to prove her point, she took her foot off the gas, letting the car slow down a little, „I‘m just … irritated.“
„Either way“, finally, you reached out to her, brushing the few lost strands of hair behind her ear. The gentle touch of your fingertips against her cheek had her exhale immediately, readjusting her grip on the steering wheel. The car did a minimal swirl to the left before she caught herself again and readjusted her position on the road.
You giggled, pulling your hand away, elbows leaning on the middle console as you grinned at her. The tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips, giving her a coy smile. „I think you should take a break to … release some tension anyway.“ Your voice dropped lower when you saw the way her jaw tensed. „And it‘s just us out here tonight.“
At the clearly suggestive tone that swung in your voice, she finally glanced over at you, pupils dark. You shrugged your coat off your shoulders, leaning a little further towards her, eyes batting almost innocently.
Agnes' eyes stared at your lips, your eyes, your shoulder, still covered by a knit sweater, but the lacy strap of your bra peeking out, and then quickly back to the road before you.
She swallowed hard, then scoffed. But the smirk on her lips betrayed her, even as her eyes turned back to the road. Her right hand left the steering wheel to come rest firmly on your thigh, fingers brushing over the fabric of your pants so high up, your breath hitched at the contact. That made her chuckle, a low sound in the back of her throat, and she blinked right to pull over into the parking lot. „Maybe you’re right“, her thumb ran lazily up and down your inner thigh and you felt your stomach tighten at the touch. „A break sounds good right now.“
You were right, the small square of asphalt lay completely abandoned, nothing but a few parking spots and a telephone cell already halfway towards decay. No street lights, no buildings, just Agnes' grey little car alone between fields and meadows, the rain now pouring down against the metal roof.
Agnes put the car into park mode and turned off the radio, right hand never leaving your thigh as she did so, and then took a deep breath, back of her head hitting her seat as she did. She would never admit it, but she wasn’t just frustrated, she was tired too. Exhausted of never being enough to please your parents, of every trip to see them going to shit in some way. There was the little crease between her brows, the one she always got when she worried, when she was questioning herself.
„Baby“, you sighed. Now that you were safely parked, you leaned over the middle console completely and reached for her face with both hands, turning her head to face you. The tips of your fingers ran over her cheekbones, gently cradling her face, and her face immediately softened. Her hands wrapped around your wrists, keeping you close, the tips of your noses mere inches apart from each other.
„I‘m sorry we left on a bad note“, she said, blue eyes warm as she scanned your face, „I know you just want them to be happy.“
You shook your head at that, your thumbs brushing over her bottom lip as you gave her a warm, reassuring smile.
„I‘m sorry we spent your day off driving all the way down there only for dinner to be shit“, you replied, „I want my parents to be happy, but I value your happiness more.“
Her eyes widened, and you watched her pupils dilate at your little smile, which only made you grin brighter. „I mean it.“
Agnes' lips parted and she took a short breath. But before she could say anything else though, you surged forward, cutting her off with your lips on hers. Chapped lips melted against yours, leaning forward to deepen the kiss immediately. Fingers wrapped around the back of your neck to tug you closer, and you had to smile against her. Your teeth brushed against her upper lip and you felt Agnes holding back a little moan against your lips.
„I don’t care what my parents think“, you whispered, cupping her face in your palms. You made sure to look at her while speaking, watching the way her eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes, back to your lips. Your breath was heavy. „I just want you.“
For a moment, you just held eye contact in silence.
Agnes barely smiled, and she wasn’t one to keep her heart on her sleeve either, but you had learned that a lot of her inner world played out right behind her eyes. The way all color seemed to fade from them when she was sad, every little crease of her brow. How bright and wide they turned only when she looked at you.
Your tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip as she scanned your face, that bright, distant look of almost disbelief on her face. Like she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that you were real, that you chose to wake up next to her every single day. Like she was trying really hard to focus on what you were saying, but failing miserably.
A calloused thumb ran along your jaw, gentle like you were something delicate to be handled with care.
„You’re too good to me“, she murmured, and your own hand found hers, clasping around the pale skin, her fingers flexing in your grip.
„And you’re still way too tense“, you whispered, watching her eyes widen as you lead her thumb up and over your chin, grazing your bottom lip. Her eyes were firmly focused on the tip of her thumb, and you couldn’t help but grin before pushing it up further, lips parting to slip the single digit inside.
Agnes sucked in a sharp breath, watching the way your lips closed around her finger like it was some kind of mysterious sorcery, like she’d never seen it before. You had to withhold a smirk, tongue swirling around the tip of her thumb playfully, cheeks hollowing out as you made a show out of it. Agnes' other hand on the back of your neck tightened its grip, grasping at your soft hairs there.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a soft moan, like her thumb pressing down onto your tongue was the most delicious thing you‘ve ever tasted. It was. Your stomach did a little flip at the taste, and a part of you wanted her to push more fingers past your lips, until you were gagging on her.
When she pulled out eventually, thumb now glistening wet, your mouth still parted as you blinked up at her with a smirk, you could swear you saw her tremble a little.
Agnes was fidgeting around in her seat, her eyes dark as she licked her lips, gaze heavy with arousal.
She kissed you again, firmly, one hand finding your shoulder and holding you in place, the other on your cheek, her wet thumb leaving a thin trail of your saliva on your skin. It made your insides feel like they were burning up.
„I really want to eat you out right now“, you gasped into her mouth, barely holding back the breathless giggle that accompanied your words. Her grip in your shoulder tightened, fingers digging into your skin.
„Way too good to me“, Agnes purred, her gaze heavy, fingers hot on your skin. Your lips were parted in a slight pant. Your thighs pressed together where you were still halfway sitting in your seat, halfway draped over the middle console to be as close to her as possible. Agnes glanced down at you, cheeks hot and lips swollen from kissing, your eyes dark and pupils round, practically begging her for more. Her own face was flushed too, and her breath had picked up, taking sharp breaths through her nose.
„Backseat“, she ordered, her tone leaving no room for discussion. Not that you had any intention to disobey. „Now.“
You jumped out of your seat and into the rain faster than you thought you were even able to move.
But, Agnes was still faster. She leapt around the car, pried the backseat door open, and before you even knew what was happening, your back hit the hard cushions. She was on top of you, crowding you up in the limited space of her car, slamming the door behind her shut with a little more force than necessary. She was straddling your hips, eyes now black with lust as she stared down at you. Even though you’d only been in the rain for a few seconds, wet strands of hair were already sticking to her forehead, and she wiped them back with one hand, the other finding your chest, pinning you down against the car seats.
„You’re wet“, she stated, and when a whine left your throat in response, paired with a twitch of your hips underneath her. She let out a hollow laugh. „I meant your shirt, slut.“
Your lips curled into a pout and her hand on your chest grabbed a fistful of your wine red sweater. She leaned down towards you, propping herself up with her other hand, until her face was mere inches from yours. You craned your neck, trying to catch her lips with yours, but she was just out of reach, her smile smug as she tugged harder on your sweater, exposing your midriff. A breathy whine escaped your throat, met by an evil chuckle.
„Not so assertive now, huh?“, her brows raised almost mockingly and for a moment, she just enjoyed watching you struggle underneath her, unable to push up against her grip on your jumper, helplessly wiggling underneath where she had you pinned. It was utterly pathetic, and by the way her breath came ragged, it was exactly what she wanted. Keeping you pinned down by your chest, she rolled her hips down into yours exactly once, the rough fabric of her jeans pushing against your softer, loose fitting slacks.
„Agnes please“, you whined at the contact, staring up at her through heavy lids. Heat was pooling in your stomach, you knew that your underwear must already be absolutely soaked, and you wanted nothing more than for her to just press her knee up against your core, to grind down against her until you were in tears from how good it would feel.
For a moment, she seemed to actually consider it. Then, she readjusted her position, sitting back up. At the loss of her closeness you almost cried out in frustration.
But her gaze was stern, so you didn’t dare to just yet.
„Arms up“, she instructed, eyes twinkling even in the dark at your eagerness.
You put your hands up over your head willingly, allowing her to quickly pull the knit sweater up and off, leaving you in just a thin black bralette, goosebumps rising on your skin. The moment the jumper was over your head, her lips found yours in a bruising kiss. One of her hands found your wrists and immediately pinned them over your head, the other one found your ribs, tips of her fingers running over your exposed skin. When you gasped at the contact, she took the opportunity to slip her tongue past your lips, smirking against you at the mewl in the back of your throat. The muscle ran over your teeth, pushing your own tongue aside as she explored your mouth, claiming each and every inch as her own in the process. Her hand ran over the flimsy lace of your bralette, and the little squeeze to one of your breasts made you squeak into her mouth.
“Worked up already?“, her voice had dropped low, that mocking tone she loved to taunt you with. A thumb ran over the curve of your breast, self satisfaction painting her face when she found your nipple already hard peaking through the thin fabric. She ran her index and middle finger over it, pressing down right into the hard bud just once. Hot pleasure surged through your body and your chest pushed up into her touch, the mewl escaping your lips loud and desperate.
„You know“, her hand wandered further up, over your collarbone. The tip of her finger ran over it asshe licked her lips. Like she was already planning how to devour you, how she was going to paint your delicate skin in shades of purple.
She was watching the way you were trembling under her touch, trying so hard to stay still. Fingers wandered up your throat, finally clasping around your neck, her grip firm but not yet tight. Agnes leaned down, voice ghosting so close to your ear you could feel her lips move against it. „If you just wanted me to fuck you in the backseat, you could’ve just asked.“
A moment of silence. Then you felt the tip of her tongue dart out, running along the shell of your ear. Hot breath right against it. „Next time we can skip the entire dinner and just go straight to this.“
Finally, her legs shifted, her knee pushing between your thighs. Your legs parted willingly, mouth opening in a gasp. Her fingers tightened around your neck, and the mix of finally feeling something push up against your aching cunt and the sudden lack of oxygen made your head spin. Agnes knew how to make you melt into nothing but a boiling hot puddle beneath her.
Agnes’ voice was still right by your ear, though she was leaning towards your face now, watching every muscle shift in reaction to her touch.
„You think you can cum like this?“, she taunted, „With me merely touching you?“
You nodded frantically, eyes wide with eagerness. Agnes scoffed, „Didn’t take you for such a needy slut, but alright.“ Without warning, her knee pushed up hard against you, and the squeak you let out was high pitched and throaty, weak through her firm hold on your neck. The older woman raised her brows expectantly, „Show me, and maybe I‘ll fuck you properly after.“
There were lawyers of fabric between you, and it shouldn’t work as well as it did, but God, you could not get enough. Your underwear was soaked, sticking to your core, and if you rolled your hips just right, angled yourself with just the slightest arch of your back, your clit brushed against her knee just right. So that was exactly what you did, grinding down into her, trying desperately to push closer as she kept your wrists pinned above your head with one hand, and your throat tightly gripped by the other. Piercing blue eyes stared down at you, taking in every single rut of your hips, every gasping attention to grasp for air, the flush of your face, your eyes fluttering open and closed as you worked yourself against her, steady and unwavering even in your compromising position. It was a borderline pathetic sight, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She needed to watch you fall apart like this, needed you to come undone on the brink of consciousness. She needed to see you in absolute ruin, from barely any stimulation at all. So you did.
You lost your sense of orientation, no way to tell where was up and down. Stars danced before your eyes, black spots mixing in with them over the blurry view of her face hovering over you. Hot white, spots of black, bright blue. Your eyes fluttered shut, but the view remained. Hips pressing down hard against her knee, picking up their pace as much as you could. Or maybe the sudden flashes of almost painful pleasure just came naturally, you genuinely couldn’t tell. But the soaked cotton of your underwear rubbed against your aching clit, pulsating with want as you chased more and more of it.
„That’s it“, the only clear sensation flooding your mind was her voice, so close to your ear, ringing through your head, „You look absolutely wrecked, my love.“
Hot, wet lips against the shell of your ear. A moan tried to escape your throat, but no sound could make it past the vice grip she had on your throat.
You felt scathing hot beneath her, burning up from the inside out, pleasure overtaking every last nerve end of your body. Finally, it all came crashing down. Your core pressed against her knee, not even rutting against her anymore, just pushing up as close as you could as a wave of heated, explosive euphoria shot up your spine. Your body was shaking, there was no up or down, left or right. There were just colors dancing before your eyes as your mouth fell open, no scream able to push past her tight hold and the pulsating of your aching clit as the orgasm took over all of your senses.
The grip on your throat disappeared, and your lungs rapidly filled with air in a loud, deep groan. Agnes’ lips attached to the side of your neck, nipping and kissing along the reddened skin, feeling the deep, slow breaths you took as slowly, your vision cleared and you felt the cushions beneath you again.
She released your wrists still pinned to the car door over your head as well, and your hands immediately found her hair, tugging her up towards your lips. She kissed you softly, making sure you could still breathe through it.
You wanted to moan into it, her name right on your lips, but no sound could make it past your throat, the strain settling in. Agnes' tongue darted out against your bottom lip, and you let her enter, hands running down her front. Your fingers dug into the washed out fabric of her flannel shirt, pulling her closer by it. Your legs, still shaking from the ragged orgasm prior loosely wrapped around her hips, holding her as close to you as possible.
The kiss turned heated again, and you felt your sense of up and down slip away. But she pulled away before you could fully lose yourself in the feeling again, leaning back enough to take you in before her. Your neck raw and bruised, painted by choking marks from her hands, a few blooming kisses peppered between them, the ghosting remnants of her teeth against your jaw. She loved to paint you hers, the view of her mark on you unlocking a feral, deep lust in her, a need to claim you and your pleasure as hers. To let everyone who laid eyes upon you know that she was the one touching you, that she was willing to do anything to make you feel good. And the things she did to you, even in the back of your car in the middle of nowhere on a mid December night … it should embarrass you, but something inside you twisted the humiliation into fuel for the fire inside you. Your legs twitched.
„Agnes“, you managed to croak out, surprised by how hoarse your own voice was, the single word barely making it past your lips.
Her brow raised, „What?“
Instead of an answer, you just tilted your head back, lips parting. Your tongue darted out, flat as your gaze found hers, a silent plea. Agnes' eyes turned black, her fingers digging into your waist harder. But, of course, your wish was granted.
Agnes strained her neck, jaw tightening at the movement. She was leaning over you, dark eyes never breaking contact with yours as a single string of saliva left her lips, dropping right onto your waiting tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips closing around it as you savoured her spit like an expensive, rare fruit. With heavy eyes you stared at her from beneath your lashes as you swallowed, wincing at the slight pain the motion sent through your neck.
„Jesus fuck“, Agnes voice was low, nails digging into your waist, and your legs wrapped tighter around her at the sharp pain.
„If you could see yourself right now“, Agnes groaned, „So fucked out … and I haven’t even touched you yet.“
She surged back down, lips crashing into yours, and you managed to actually slip an audible moan past your throat this time, arms wrapping around her neck as you let her tongue lap into your mouth.
„Flip over“, she panted, words mere inches from your own lips, before propping herself up enough to give you some movement space, „On your hands and knees.“
Wriggling into the new position proved slightly difficult in the small space, but eventually you made it. On all fours, you cowered in front of her, Agnes forced to be halfway draped over your body with the low ceiling of the car. One hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against her before reaching up to brush your hair over your shoulder. Warm lips ghosted over the back of your neck, trailing downward between your shoulder blades.
„You okay?“, she grumbled, lips vibrating against your skin and you gave a quick nod.
Her lips attached to your back again, this time more urgently, sucking your skin between her teeth, the pain minimal but delicious.
Her other hand dove into your pants, brushing over your tailbone before dipping lower. She gave your ass a little squeeze, grunting into your neck at the feeling of your soft flesh in her palm. Her knuckles ran over your asshole on their way further down, and you jumped at the unexpected contact, making her chuckle.
„Now, now“, she just as much purred into your ear, „Don’t get greedy“, teeth nipped at your earlobe, „I‘m saving that one for another time.“
Your breath hitched, pushing back into her touch as her hand ran lower, down the curve of your ass and then finally, the tips of her fingers dipped between your folds.
She hissed at the contact feeling not just how hot you were but also the amount of slick that covered your core, absolutely soaking your underwear that she’d pushed past so easily.
„You are so wet“, she hummed, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot right below your ear, „How embarrassing.“
Her index and middle finger swirled around your entrance, collecting liquid pleasure along their way. Your hips bucked back into her touch almost all on their own, and you heard her tut.
„Don’t get impatient now.“
For a moment, her touch was gone, and all you felt was the stretch of your cotton panties as she pulled her hand away. The lining sat just over your clit, and maybe if you rolled your hips just right …
Agnes let out an evil little laugh. „God, you’re so fucking pathetic.“
And then, without any warning or preparation, she plunged right in. Two digits slid right inside with little to no resistance, and the sudden intrusion made you jump, the moan on your lips shaking your entire body.
„Agnes fuck!“
She did not waste any time easing you into it, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, her hips pressed firmly against your ass. Your fingers dug into the fabric of the car seat underneath you, back arched like a cat to take her as deep as possible.
Once she was sure your position was stable enough, her other hand let go of your waist. Before you knew it, her fist curled into your hair, yanking your head back. You yelped at the unexpected tug, gasping for air as a hot, tingling sensation slowly crept up your entire body.
Her fingers drilled into you mercilessly, other hand pulling your head back by your hair. The tug was harsh at your roots, a sharp pain shooting through your skull that mixed deliciously with the way her fingers brushed over your walls, sliding in and out with no resistance.
„Agnes“, you mewled, eyes rolling back in your skull. The fist in your hair gripped harder.
„What, slut?“, she spat, fingers never breaking their brutal rhythm.
„Please“, was all you managed to reply. But of course, that wasn’t enough.
„Please, what?“ Her tone was harsh, and if it wasn’t for her grip on your hair, your head would have fallen forward in frustration.
“Make me cum“, you groaned, throat burning. You pushed your hips down into her hand, your entire body shaking as her fingers brushed over that one spot that made you see stars. „Like that“, you rasped, not caring for your voice anymore, so lost in the mix of pain and pleasure, all you needed was to reach that peak, and then come crashing down rapidly.
„Don’t stop Agnes, oh god— please don’t stop! I‘m gonna—“
And then you crashed. Her fingers drilled into you relentlessly, hitting the right spot with every thrust. The wet fabric of your panties still clung to your pulsating clit, and you could feel the way she pushed her own hips against the curve of your ass, felt her ragged breath against your back. For a moment, everything turned into singing, burning hot pleasure.
Your limbs gave out beneath you and you collapsed forward onto the seat. However, before your forehead could hit the car door right in front of you, Agnes' arm had wrapped around your waist already, interrupting your fall before gently laying you down on the cushions. Your breaths came ragged, panting loudly, throat still aching, your body numb from sheer overwhelming pleasure, tears stinging in your eyes.
But Agnes was right there. Her hand slipped out of your pants, running up your spine to brush your hair out of your face, a gentle kiss finding your cheek, arms wrapped around you firmly enough to keep you grounded, but not so tight that you could feel smothered. Slowly, your breath evened, craning your neck carefully, just enough to glance back at her.
„Fuck“, you sighed, sweat glistening on your brow.
Agnes chuckled. „What, you’re done already?“ Her hand brushed a few strands of hair from your forehead, stuck to the layer of sweat on your skin, „I thought you were gonna eat me out back here“
Still catching your breath, you shook your head at her. „Not after that I‘m not“, your voice was hoarse, throat still a little tight and you‘d definitely feel sore tomorrow morning. „I can barely breathe.“
Her thumb slid underneath your chin, tilting your face upwards to look directly at her. „Are you okay, darling? Did I go to hard?“
Slowly, as to not strain your neck any further, you shook your head. „I promise I‘d tell you if you did.“
Her eyes scanned your face for any signs of pain, but when all you did was give her a gentle smile, she nodded. „Let’s lay you down for a moment," she whispered, leaning forward. Her lips pressed against your forehead for a soft, lingering kiss, “I could use a breather myself.“
You were laying on your back, head in her lap, the blanket she kept in the back of the car for emergencies draped over your body, your hands holding one of hers, gently running your fingertips up and down her calloused palm. The movement came to a halt when she felt the metal of your ring brush against her skin, the rough edges of the little polished amethyst on the band. Her hand clasped around yours, warm skin against skin.
„We should pick a date soon“, she whispered suddenly, and your eyes fluttered open, already half asleep in your exhausted state.
„Hm?“
She leaned forward, nose brushing against the shell of your ear before pressing a single, small kiss to your cheek. „We should get married next summer“, she whispered, ponytail falling over her shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat.
„I‘ve already made you wait too long," Agnes murmured, forehead resting against yours.
You stretched your free arm over your head, blinking up at her, eyes bright in the half dark of the car.
„I‘d like that“, you whispered back, voice growing hoarse from the strain your earlier actions had put on your vocal cords. „Maybe Lilia could officiate. And we’d have a bonfire in the backyard. I‘d wear a flower crown. Jen could do my makeup.“ You sounded drowsy, half asleep but still smiling, the vision clear before your eyes, cheeks warm at the thought.
Agnes looked at you for a moment, and her face was soft. No crease on her forehead from constant frowning, no furrowed brows. Her lips were swollen from kissing you so hard, and they were slightly parted when she leaned in, a slow, gentle press of her lips against yours.
„I love you“, she murmured, and you felt her arms wrap tighter around you. „And promise we‘ll make our day the most special day it can be. But Jen is not touching my wife at my wedding. You’re beautiful as is. Jen should feel lucky that she’s invited.“ You rolled your eyes at her, pulling her into another kiss by the back of her neck. She let you, leaning down to brush her lips gently against yours.
The Radio played that stupid song again. This time, it made you smile, whether you wanted it to or not.
„Merry Christmas“, you whispered against her lips, and she pulled back in surprise. For a moment, she stared down at you in disbelief, like she was waiting for a punchline of some sort. But at your sheepish little grin, she just rolled her eyes with affection.
„Merry Christmas to you too, my love.“
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tkwrites · 3 days ago
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Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc
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gif from @kawhh
Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 
Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.
Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.
Word Count: 2,900
Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!
I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  
If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 
Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 
1.
The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.
Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.
Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.
“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 
“Why?” 
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 
“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 
It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 
“So it’s okay?” 
How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.
He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.
Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 
Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”
“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 
2.
The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.
It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.
He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  
His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.
The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  
His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 
 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.
He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 
After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.
It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.
He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 
When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 
He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 
3. 
The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 
“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.
Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”
“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 
“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.
Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 
At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 
“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 
“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”
When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 
“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  
“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 
“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 
“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 
He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 
The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 
When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 
Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 
4. 
The fourth time wasn’t planned. 
When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 
In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.
The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 
In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  
“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 
He shrugged, “I liked it.”
The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 
Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 
“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 
“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 
She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 
5. 
Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 
He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.
Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 
Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 
He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.
Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 
“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.
“You like it?” he asked. 
“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 
The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 
They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 
He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 
When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 
Bonus scene: 
On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.
“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 
Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 
Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 
“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 
Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 
It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 
Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 
It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 
I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 
Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 
I love you. 
Love, 
Quinn 
Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.
I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 3 days ago
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Twelve Days: Part 2^**
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In days 5-8 Y/N confronts her sister about her behavior. The tension between Harry and Y/N starts to grow as they continue spending more time together after hours until it's just impossible not to address it. READ PART 1 HERE
Warnings: infidelity, break ups, mentions of depression and anxiety and their symptoms, mentions and use of alcohol and drugs, breast/ nipple play, dry humping
WC: 7.1K
Day Five:
When you woke up the following morning you were alone in the bed which definitely was for the best because you felt really guilty for the night before. Yeah, you hadn’t actually gone through with anything terrible, but you two had crossed a boundary that shouldn’t have been crossed. Maybe it was because you were both a little heartbroken over the things that you were going through personally, but ultimately, that didn’t really justify anything. 
Despite the very successful night of sleep you’d had, you felt a little unwell. Your stomach felt funky and your thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute. You didn’t want to get out of bed today even though you knew that a walk around the neighborhood would help you feel a little less gross, both physically and mentally. It seemed like a great day to just be lowkey and rot and then your door creaked open and you sat up to see your mom peering in.
“Sorry, I thought you’d still be asleep. Was just seeing if your sister had stayed with you or something.” She explained with a worried expression on her face.
“No. I was alone. All night.” You added with a nervous lump in your throat.
“Hmmm…did she say anything to you last night?”
“No. But she was out with Claudia, she’s not here?”
“She is, but she said they came back together.”
“Maybe she went out for a walk or a run. I saw her the other day when I went out.” You explained and she nodded and left.
The logical thing to assume was that she had spent the night with that guy she was sleeping with. Doing this on a family trip was a new low. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so bad for having the hots for Harry because she was out with another guy! That alone was enough to motivate you to get out of bed and you called your sister while you paced around your room back and forth waiting former to pick up. 
“Hello?” She hummed happily and you sighed.
“Where are you? Everyone’s freaking out!” You whisper shouted, trying not to sound too angry with her because you technically weren’t supposed to know what was actually going on.
“I went to have breakfast with a friend! I left a note by the door!” She said and you sighed, “I’ll be back in like an hour tops.”
“Why didn’t you text Harry back then?”
“I didn’t want to text him and wake him. You guys did a lot yesterday and he was pretty tired. I got back late and slept in Claudia’s room.” She fibbed and you hummed.
“Well just…hurry back.”
“Yeah. Bye!” She said and hung up quickly. 
You got your slippers on and headed out to the kitchen where your mom was making coffee for everyone.
“She answered my call. She’s out at breakfast with a friend who’s also here, I guess.” You said and just like that, the crease between your mother’s brows was ironed out. 
“Oh, thank god.”
“She said she left a note by the door.” You said and your aunt hurried over and was soon back in sight with a piece of paper.
“I may have missed it in my panic!” Claudia chuckled and your dad rolled his eyes.
“Well, what do you guys want to eat?” Your mom asked.
“I don’t care, I just want some mimosas.” Harry said and headed to the fridge to get the champagne.
“Excellent idea!” Your dad exclaimed happily and you smiled and started heading back to your bedroom.
“Hey, where are you off to?” Harry asked.
“Just gonna wash up and get dressed.” You informed and he smiled and got back to his task. 
Despite her promise to return in an hour or so, your sister was not back until nearly two in the afternoon. Your parents were inside watching a movie with your aunt and you and Harry were pretending to play tennis. Pretending because you had no idea what you were doing, you were just winded from all the back and forth. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You and Harry were laughing about you accidentally hitting the ball over the fence when your sister came out to the back and towards the pool house. Suddenly the laughter died down and Harry headed towards you.
“I should go talk to her.” He said and you bit your lip for a second.
“Ummm…let me.” You said, “I can get her to tell me the truth and then talk a little sense into her.”
“You shouldn’t have to…”
“I know. But this is super fucked up and everyone’s all confused and she’s just going to yell at you, so let me try.”
“Alright.” He agreed and you nodded once before heading towards the pool house.
You did feel extremely nervous as you reached for the door handle but you had to talk some sense into her. It seemed that she was just over pretending to be happy and didn’t care how it all came out. However, you knew that your sister actually really cared for how she was outwardly perceived, so this was extremely out of character for her. As soon as she heard the front door open she sighed.
“Spare me the argument, Harry. He’s gone.” She called out as you rounded the corner.
“Who’s gone?” You asked and she quickly turned around from walking over to the bathroom.
“No one. Just a friend Harry’s jealous of.” She mumbled with a shake of her head.
“Mmm…some friend that must be because Harry’s not the jealous type.” You said as you sat on the corner of the bed. Showing her that you had no intention of leaving any time soon.
“And how would you know that?”
“Because I’ve known the guy for almost 10 years, Julie! It takes a lot to upset him. Him not being the jealous type was one of the things you really liked about him when you were dating. You told me about it many times.” You reminded her. “You’ve got everyone thrown for a loop with how you’ve been acting.”
“Oh my god…don’t make this a thing.”
“I’m not! This is very much a thing already. What is going on, huh?” You pressed and she sighed.
“Nothing, Y/N! Just mind your business.”
“What’s really going on?” You pressed and she groaned.
“You wouldn’t even understand so just stay out of it, Y/N!” she raised her voice.
“Try me.” You said simply and her anger seemed to dissipate and she just stood there for a second, genuinely giving it some thought. And then her eyes started welling up.
“I can’t.” She said and you frowned.
“Why not?” You questioned.
“Because you’re going to think so badly of me.” She said and you frowned.
“Jules, I’d never judge you.” You said sincerely and she sighed. “Look ummm…Harry, h-he told me about you.” You said carefully and her jaw dropped as her tears started to fall. She quickly sat beside you and started sobbing, so you pulled her into your side. It was strange for you but you wanted her to know that this mistake she had made wasn’t enough to make you not love her. Despite your slightly complicated relationship, she was important to you and you wanted nothing more than the best for her. “It’s okay…” you assured her. 
After she calmed down some, you grabbed her Stanley for her and let her drink a bit as you grabbed some toilet paper so that she could blow her nose. She let out a long exhale and then let herself fall back onto the mattress.
“I’m a major demisexual and I’m in love with someone else and yes, I’ve been…having an affair with him.” She confessed.
“For how long?” You asked.
“There’s been three separate times.” She explained, “The first time Harry and I had been dating a few months and ummm…it happened at a work party and it went on for about a month. It ended because Harry caught us a friend’s wedding and he dumped me for a few days for it. Then again, right after Harry and I got engaged.” You frowned as you heard this, “And that one lasted like four months.” She explained and your jaw slightly dropped upon hearing this. “I know…and it just…it fucked me up! I started to doubt and was sort of on the fence until we were like three months away from the wedding! I just, I was trying to find the courage to end it with Harry.” she cried and you nodded as you listened, “And then it was the month before the wedding and I missed my period.” Julie explained and you nodded. “By that point Joey and I hadn’t seen each other for three months! Because he had given me an ultimatum and that’s what made me decide to leave Harry. But yeah, then that happened and I just…felt like it was a sign to stay.” She shrugged.
“So…what happened with that?” You asked carefully.
“Nothing. I mean, I was just late. Probably stress from the wedding and the decision I was making with Harry…and I think I had started on birth control a few weeks prior, so yeah, it was just a late. But I still took that as a sign, you know and I stayed with Harry. I didn’t talk to Joey all this time until last year. I decided that maybe being friends on social media would be alright after all those years. Like we were such good friends and I did miss that. But obviously, that was a slippery slope and here we are… and I mean, I’ve loved him all this time. But I’ve also loved Harry enough to stay. But then when Joey and I started talking again that love for Harry was gone.” She said sadly. She brought her hands up to her face and groaned into them. “I’m such a horrible human being! I’m a piece of shit!” 
“You’re not, Jules. You did a horrible and shitty thing, but you’re not that.” You assured her. “If you don’t love Harry anymore then why don’t you just get divorced?” You asked.
“This is what I hate myself for most!” She cried. “I just know that…leaving Harry is not the best option for me. Joey is flighty and kind of a fuck boy! But he still cares about me. So then I think if I show him that I am that committed to him he won’t be so afraid of trying with me for real.” She explained and you wanted to laugh. That was maybe the most delusional thing you had ever heard in your life. You felt so bad for her.
“I know how fucking delusional that makes me sound! Trust me, I know! That’s why I haven’t left Harry. Because logic is completely out the window right now! And I mean, m-maybe with time I’ll fall for Harry again? I mean, I did once before…” she explained as the tears streamed down her face.
“I’m sorry.” You said lowly. 
“Don’t be…I did this to myself.” She sniffled. “And now I’m dragging one of the best persons in the world down with me.” She whimpered before she started to cry again. “I know I’m being selfish but I’m so scared!” She broke down again and you pouted. 
“I know how scary it is to be alone, but you’re going to punish Harry for it and I don’t need to tell you how unfair that is. You get both things and he gets nothing? I mean, you both deserve the chance to be with people that make you happy.” You reasoned.
“Yeah…I know.” She whimpered before letting out another sob.
She continued crying for several more minutes before she had calmed down. You were gently rubbing her back as she was turned away from you. You could sense her shame, is was so great that it was suffocating the both of you. 
“Look, I think you need to have a nice relaxing shower. Wash the day away, yeah? And I can make you a really great cocktail and then we can watch Mean Girls.” You suggested and she rolled over and gave you a confused look.
“That’s not a Christmas movie!” She exclaimed. Your family also had a rule that during the Christmas season you could only watch Christmas movies with another member of the family.
“I’m talking about the real, iconic version. Like it’s not entirely Christmas-y but it does contain one of the most iconic Christmas scenes in cinematic history and that alone makes it Christmas-y enough!” You defended and she smirked.
“You’re ight. Love that movie.” She hummed and you smiled.
“I know.” You responded.
“Well, it sounds like a plan.” She said with a smile.
“Alright.” You confirmed. 
“On your way out can you send Harry in? I should apologize.” She decided and you nodded and got up to go. 
Harry was sitting on one of the pool chairs when you emerged from the pool house and he instantly sat up and glanced around to see you approaching. He looked a little nervous and you offered a small smile to reassure him some.
“She told me the truth.” You said and he looked surprised, “I know. And ummm, she asked if you’d give her a few, she wants to apologize.” You said and his features softened.
“Yeah, of course.” He said and immediately sat up.
“Good luck in there.”
“Thank you.” He smiled as you went your separate ways. Despite how badly you wanted to eaves drop in hopes for some indication of how the supposed apology was going, when you got to your bedroom you decided to have a shower instead. 
By the time you were out and making the cocktails, Harry was also arriving at the kitchen from his bedroom, freshly showered.
“Can you add a bit more f’me? I’m gonna watch the film with you two.”
“Oh, sure!” You agreed easily. “So it’s good with you guys?”
“Yeah, we’re good.” He assured and you were pleased with that.
And truly, for the rest of the day everything was great. It honestly felt like the tension between them that you’d sensed this entire time had evaporated and you hoped that it would stay that way for the remainder of the trip.
Day Six: 
It had been a really fun day with your family. You’d decided to go to the outlets, and on the way back stopped at the casino where you’d actually won nearly $1,200, just your luck. And then had an excellent dinner with everyone before you got back to the house. Despite your busy and exciting day, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling. To be fair it was only around 10pm, but you’d had a very long day. And then, the sound of a few quiet knocks on the door made you smile.
“Yeah?” You spoke up and Harry peeked into the bedroom with a smile on his face as well.
“Can’t sleep?”
“No.” You mumbled. “Come in.” You said and he hurried in and closed the door quietly.“Wanna smoke a bit?” You asked and he nodded.
“Yes, please.” He hummed with zeal and you chuckled as you got out of bed. You tended to get hot in bed, so you always wore something more revealing on top and some long bottoms. It was currently cool in the room though and the thin, baby blue tank you were wearing was leaving nothing to the imagination, so it was no surprise that Harry did a double take before quickly looking down at his phone.
“I’m gonna grab a sweater, s’cold out. Can you grab the weed? There’s a little black bag from the dispensary in the bedside drawer.” You instructed and he nodded. You hurried into your closet and grabbed the first one you saw and grabbed your lighter from your purse as you hurried out. And soon you and Harry were positioning the chairs so that the edge of the roof didn’t obstruct the view of the starry sky. 
“Just pick what you want.” You said and he started looking through the bag and pulled out a more indica heavy blend. “Ooh, good choice. But we’ll definitely need snacks. And water.” You said and he grinned. 
You made a quick trip to the kitchen and grabbed some cereal and milk because you figured that it would satiate the munchies and also hydrate you to counteract the cottonmouth. And with that settled you were finally passing the joint back and forth and staring up at the sky. You had been talking about TV shows and things you’d read, music you were into at the moment, it was really nice and comfortable with him. And after a moment of silence Harry turned to you.
“I have to ask…” he said and you turned to look at him and nodded, “Ummm, the day when you…walked in on me?” He asked and you nodded nervously, “Did you see everything?” He asked and your groaned and looked away bashfully and he chuckled. “No point in lying about it…” he said and you turned back, face beet red as you faced him.
“I didn’t. I promise!” You insisted.
“Okay…” he hummed, still in slight disbelief. 
“It’s true!” You pressed once more.
“I’m just teasing you.” He grinned.
“Well stop, it’s making me feel bad all over again!” You chuckled and he chuckled along with you.
“Don’t feel bad. I understand the curiosity just gets you sometimes.” He said and you hummed and shrugged in agreement. 
“So…what’s next for you. I-if you guys end things?”
“I don’t know…I’ve been approached about a tenure track opening at the university and I’m trying to decide if it’s worth it.” He said and you nodded in agreement.
“I know I could go back home…work at my alma mater…be closer to my family…”
“But?”
“In a way, going back would feel like defeat. Like I just wasted all of this time.” He said and you felt sad for him as he confessed this.
“Well, you got offered a tenure track position! Clearly you haven’t been wasting your time.” You encouraged him and he smiled.
“That’s true…”
“But I mean, if you decide to go back then at least you’ll be closer to your family.” You said with a smile.
“Well, my family is kind of a mess so…things are better with us when we have some distance between us. That’s why coming here was an idea to begin with” He explained.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Sorry.” You said.
“It’s alright.” He assured you. “Let’s talk about you… I know you’re a caring person but you’re just deflecting at this point.” he said and you smiled a bit and shrugged.
“It’s just…when I think about it I still get really sad.” You explained, with a sad smile on your face and his gaze softened.
“I saw the depression meds in the drawer. You know, you really shouldn’t smoke while you take them. You could get serotonin syndrome.” He said with concern.
“Oh, I haven’t started them. I was supposed to a few weeks ago and well, I had brought them to start on Sunday but I forgot.” You explained.
“Why haven’t you started them?”
“I don’t know…not any good enough reasons though.” You shrugged.
“Like?” He pressed and you sighed and just straightened out and looked at the beautifully starry sky. You hadn’t seen that many stars in a long time.
“My pride…” you chuckled dryly and he sputtered out a laugh as he tried to keep quiet.
“Okay…in what way?”
“Just in the most obvious way…like this person affected me so much that it broke my mind and unbalanced by brain!” You whisper shouted and then sat up straight and brought the joint to your mouth and took a small hit before blowing out the smoke. “How could I let someone hold so much power over me?!” You chuckled in disbelief as your eyes welled up with tears and handed over the joint.
“This is not your fault. You loved and trusted, that’s not wrong.” He reassured you and you sighed. You watching him take a hit and then sighed.
“You’re right. But I still feel weak for it, you know? So ummm…yeah, not taking those meds yet and still surviving and finding joy every now and again, it makes me feel a little bit better.” You confessed.
“And you feel alright?”
“Yeah and getting better, too. Slowly but surely.”
“Okay. Promise you’ll take them when you start to plateau.” He requested as he handed back the dwindling joint.
“Promise.” You assured before taking the last hit and then smashing it against the ashtray to completely extinguish it. “Should we put something on and eat our cereal?”
“Yeah, lets do it.” You smiled.
Before you knew it, the both of you were reclining against the headboard with your cereal bowls and watching SNL highlights.
Day Seven:
Once again, you had woken up alone. You had gone on your walk and when you returned Harry and Julie were already in the kitchen.
“Great, you’re back! Guess what!?” Harry exclaimed.
“What?” You asked as you put your AirPods back into their case.
“Save Ferris has a show at Pappy and Harriet’s tonight!” 
“Oh, no way?!” You gasped in disbelief and your sister turned to you.
“You know who that is?” She asked and you nodded.
“I had a ska phase in high school.” You shrugged and she knocked her head back and laughed.
“Oh, right! God… glad you got through that.” She said and you flipped her off as you started to head to your room to shower. “So what? Do you want to go?” Julie asked and you stopped and turned towards her and then glanced to Harry who was smiling expectantly.
“Ummm…yeah! I’d like that actually.” You confirmed.
“Perfect! We’ll get the tickets, don’t worry about it. Merry Christmas.” She said to you and you smiled, “And well, I’m just going to get drunk because I don’t know what the fuck that band is.” She added and you chuckled.
“Well I think you’re going to have fun. And this is like a huge dream come true for me because I never thought I’d ever get to see them!” You said excitedly and she chuckled, “Thank you! I love you.” You said pointedly and then hurried off to shower.
All day the anticipation for this show was building up and building up. By the time you were leaving the house Julie was already tipsy. You were driving since they had paid, it was the least you could do, and you were actually glad you had driven, it was a nice distraction from just wanting to talk to Harry about anything and everything while your sister just laughed at TikTok’s in the backseat. You were also kinda worried that she might make herself car sick, especially as you started going up the winding roads to Pioneer Town.
You guys had intentionally arrived early to take a walk through the historical little western town. You looked through a few shops and then made your way to the saloon next door to the venue and had some tacos while you guys drank and chatted until it was time to make the short walk back to the venue. You guys waited in the merch line for a bit before heading over to the outdoor stage area and finding a spot to stand. Despite this not being a genre that your sister enjoyed, she was having a pretty decent time. And you and Harry had enjoyed the opener and also Save Ferris. You guys were bopping along and singing the songs. Your sister had a few more drinks during the show and by the the time it was all over she was draped around you as you guys headed to your car. 
“Want me to drive?” Harry asked as he opened the back right door to help you get Julie inside.
“I’m alright.” You assured him. Your sister groaned as she dropped down onto the seat. “Jules, seatbelt on please.” You said and she hummed.
“M’going, m’going…” she slurred. Once she was all strapped in you and Harry got settled in and you were making the drive back. It had only been a few minutes before you heard your sister slightly snoring from the back.
“Did she pass out?” You asked Harry and he glanced back and smiled.
“Yeah, she’s out.” He confirmed and you chuckled.
“Thanks for mentioning this show. It was super fun.” You smiled at Harry quickly before turning back to the road.
“I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it!” Harry explained with a smile, “Also, are you generally this great to go to shows with?” He asked and you giggled.
“I don’t know…I guess?”
“It’s just so nice to be present isn't it?” He asked and you nodded.
“Definitely. I get what you mean.” You agreed, “But specially here. It’s such an intimate venue. We couldn’t haven’t seen Save Ferris in a better place.” You gushed and he nodded with a wide smile. 
The rest of the way you guys were exchanging brief but charged glances. Even if you were just talking about the show and music, the air between you two was once again tense and you finally got a break from it when you arrived. You were giggling as you tried to get Julie inside as quietly as possible on your own since Harry had to pee. While you struggled with the task at hand, you had eventually made it to the pool house. She trudged in and just dropped herself on the bed and you chuckled before letting her be. When you returned to the main house Harry was in the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water.
“Want one?” He asked and you nodded.
“Please.” You confirmed and he handed the glass over to you before grabbing another for himself. You quickly drank it down and washed it before setting it back on the drying rack and then asking for his glass and washing his as well.
“Thanks.”
“Of course.” You hummed.
Moments later you were both walking down the dark hallway to get to your bedrooms. When you reached his door you stopped and he turned towards you.
“I also wanted to say that you look very pretty tonight.” He said softly and you smiled.
“Well thank you.” You responded bashfully.
“Of course.” He smiled nervously. You both looked at each other for a moment, the tension from before was rising between you again.
“Ummm, well…I should get to bed. Thank you again for finding this. I really did have the best time. I needed it.” You stated with a genuine smile as your gaze met his own. It lingered for a few more seconds before you felt all bashful again and you blinked away quickly. “Anyway, good night!” You chirped softly before he bid you a good night and you hurried into your room. 
You got changed and got ready for bed, but before you could get into it you felt a funny tug in your tummy. Yes, you had spent a whole afternoon basically with Harry, but having him in your room at night, it helped you sleep through the whole night. Which as you’d mentioned to him before, was a current struggle of yours. And more than that, you liked the warmth of him beside you. You loved how deep and raspy his voice got as you spoke late into the night. You liked that one of your pillows smelled like him from how much of a habit it had become to have him come see you and you were working up the guts to go ask him. You hurried to your bedroom door and swung it open only to see Harry already a few steps away from your door. 
“Hi.” He smiled as he came closer.
“Hi.” You smiled up at him as he stood before you. “Wanna come in?” 
“Yeah.” He smiled and stepped inside. 
Before long you were propped up on the pillowed side by side, TV on some old reruns. You were barely paying attention because you were using all of your will power to try and not turn to face him. If you did, surely you’d lose all self-control and do something stupid like lean over to kiss him. Already, the warmth coming off of him was enough to make you want to close the small gap between the two of you. But then, from your peripherals you saw him steal a glance quickly. Your heart started to race, you were buzzing from head to toe as you debated whether to glance over as well. Your heart won that battle as you turned towards him and he smiled slightly.
“What?” You asked and he shrugged.
“Nothing just…we get along too well.” He shrugged and you smiled.
“Too well?” You asked and he hummed. “Maybe our personal situations are influencing a lot of the…vibes, you know?” You asked.
“Why do you say that?” He asked.
“Because, we’ve both been a bit neglected and disappointed by the people we loved. Like…for lack of better terms I think we’re both a little…thirsty.” You said as you giggled and he smiled.
“That’s true.” He smiled.
“And well, then with like the underlying sadness, sometimes you just aren’t thinking all that clearly about things that you’d normally just… push aside.”
“Like what?” He pressed and you sighed.
“Like why we suddenly have the hots for each other!” You whisper shouted and he chuckled. “Like I’m suddenly very aware of you.” You explained.
“I think that was from seeing me half naked.” He said and you groaned in embarrassment as you let yourself fall onto your pillows. “Hey, hey…” Harry giggled as he turned onto his side to face you, “I’m teasing you.” He assured as he glanced down at you.
“I know, but still not my finest moment.” You reminded him with a playful roll of your eyes. But then he reached for your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. 
“I almost kissed you the other day, which…is equally as bad so I’d say we’re both on thin ice. And well, it’s not like I don’t want to now or something…Like I know that no one would find out about it-”
“What If they do somehow?” You asked nervously.
“They won’t. But if they did, it’s not like I was gonna be around you guys for much longer any way, with the divorce an all…” he said with a small shrug.
“So you’re going to get divorced?” You asked and he nodded.
“Yeah. Gonna get it going when we get back home.” He said and you nodded. 
Your eye contact with him didn’t waiver for another few seconds and before you knew it, you were both leaning in slowly. He exhaled shakily before you finishing closing the gap between your lips. It was just a small and quick touch of your lips together before you both pulled away. Your noses were nearly touching as you just hovered near each other for a few seconds. But from one second to the next, his will power snapped and he was kissing you again gently. Over and over, in quick little pecks, lips smearing together for seconds at a time, both too scared to kiss with a bit more fervor as to not find out just how far it could go. But like he said, no would find out…
“Fuck it then.” You whispered as you reached around his neck and he pulled you in closer by the waist. Your kiss deepened quickly, you moaned at the taste of his mouth, feeling his tongue smooth over your lips and for his teeth to nibble at your bottom lip… you were reeling. Falling blissfully into a state of non-worry as you sunk into the delicious mattress and were blanketed by Harry’s warmth and weight over you. His constant squeeze at your hip was telling you that his body was screaming to do more with his hands, but he was trying not to do too much. You pulled away from the kiss quickly, smiling as he chanted after your lips, “Just wanna tell you that you can…” you trailed off as he smooched over your lips quickly, “Y-you can touch me more.” 
As soon as you gave him the green light he slid his warm hand down the side of your thigh and to the underside where he hoisted it up around his own hip. Then he smoothed his hand back up your thigh, then up your waist, but from under your shirt. And slowly, he covered more skin until he was sliding his big, warm palm over your breast. You moaned as he gave it a gentle squeeze. The curiosity with which he was feeling you out was reminiscent of a very early sexual experience you had with some guy at a birthday party in the 8th grade, with all that seven minutes in heaven shit. 
“So you’re a boobs guy…” you giggled as he swiped his thumb over your hardening nipple.
“Definitely a boobs guy.” He mumbled into your lips before kissing you a few more times. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked and you bit your lip as you weighed out your options. But who were you kidding, the thought of having those same lips all over your breasts had you slicking up your underwear even more than they already were. 
“Yeah.” You consented verbally and you sat up as he helped pull your body free from the shirt and then dropped it on an empty part of the bed. 
Harry’s warm, smooth lips started to kiss down your jaw, nibbling a few times on his way down to the column of your neck. You held in your giggles from his stubble tickling your sensitive skin. He had both of his hands on your breasts now as he sat over you, he was teasing your nipples, being so light and airy with his touches, it had you squirming. You knew he’d get there soon, but soon wasn’t happening as fast as you wanted.
“Please!” You whimpered and he glanced up at you and smirked.
“I’m going.” He assured you and he lowered himself until he was face level with your breasts.
He wasted no time in parting his lips and sucking your nipple between them. You whimpered and wove your fingers into his hair. He sucked harder and you gripped at his hair harder. His other hand kneaded over your other breast as you writhed beneath him. And as you wiggled around trying to part your legs to wrap around him, he pulled one out from under him and lowered his hips a bit as you ground up and that’s when you felt the bulge in his pants. He was so fucking hard.
“Fuck.” He sighed as he kissed back up your neck and finally back at your lips as he started to grind his cock against you. One of your hands slid up his arm, feeling at his bulging muscles. The other slid down to his backside, encouraging him to keep going. It wasn’t so much the feeling of the dry hump as it was the desperation that existed between you two. It would feel wrong to fuck so quickly, but you wanted to so badly that you were both willing to settle for this. It was a little bit sick and a lot pathetic, a true reflection of you two as you made out sloppily while rubbing fronts. 
You’d been struggling with your sex drive since the depression and you really hadn’t needed to be in tune with it, seeing as you had planned to steer clear of anything with another person for the foreseeable future. But now here you were, wetter than you’d been in months, feeling the fabric of your underwear clinging to the skin of your pussy. You needed more if you were going to come and you really, really wanted to come. 
“Harry…Harry…” you mumbled against his lips, “Take these off.” you panted as you tugged at the band of his pants and boxer briefs.
“Sure?” He asked and you nodded.
“It’ll be easier to come like that.” You said and he smiled. “What?”
“I just…hadn’t really thought about that, I was just kinda happy to be here.” He chuckled and you giggled.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just got a little carried away, s’been a while.” You explained.
“For me too. I want to…I just want to make sure, you know?” 
“Well, thank you for making sure.” You whispered and he smiled down at you before kissing you again. You two struggled for a bit as he tried to get his pants off without stopping the kisses, but eventually you had to and you watched as he knelt up onto the bed. His cock was so fucking pretty, it made you salivate. He wasn’t shaved clean but he was definitely trimmed. You also wanted to get his balls in your mouth and make him squirm with pleasure. You also started to get your pants off and he helped you pull them off of your legs. Your underwear matched with the sleep tank you had on, a nice baby blue color, but they did nothing to hide how fucking wet you were. 
After tearing off his shirt, Harry had your legs spread, holding you down by the backs of the thighs as he slid his cock over your clothed crease. Back and forth, over and over, the head of his cock was colliding with your clit. His foreskin was starting to pull back to reveal his tip, meaning that despite how hard he already felt to you, he had more to go. You were trying to keep your sounds at a minimum, but you were starting to get close to the edge. The steady pace Harry was going at, plus the weight and warmth of his cock gliding over you and between your sticky pussy lips were all pushing you to fall apart quickly.
“You’re gonna make me come so hard…” you moaned and he groaned and kissed you.
“Good, baby. Come for me.” He mumbled against your lips and you nodded. You were inhaling his exhales as you kissed sloppily. You could feel your legs starting to tense up and your walls starting to tighten inside of you as the pleasure started to become more concentrated in the pit of your core. It was so hot and tingly and lovely, it was starting to ache, you could feel your slick starting to pump out of your needy little hole. If Harry decided to try put it in you’d let him do it. Just processing that thought and how possible it was had your orgasm overcoming you. Your breath hitched and your whole body went stiff for a second before the pleasure just exploded. A gratifying moan slipped past your lips and Harry was quick to cover your mouth, chuckling lowly as you got lost in the pleasure of the orgasm. He watched your breasts bounce and jiggle beautifully as your body rolled gently with the waves of your orgasm. You were gripping the sheets so tight that your fingers slightly ached but it just felt so good. Even as he kept going, you welcomed the sensitivity. He pulled his hand from your mouth and reached for one of your boobs again before glancing down at his cock all slicked up with your slick and cum.
“Fuck I’m gonna come!” Harry mumbled and you bit your lip in anticipation. Opposite of what you expected, he slowed his pace and then grabbed the crotch of your panties and pulling it to the side. He moaned as he saw your whole pussy and then laid his cock over it again a few times and then very intentionally, he pressed against your entrance, it was making you tremble. “Fuck…gonna let me come all over your pussy?” He asked as he looked up at you and you nodded, mouth agape, eyes nearly closed from the insurmountable waves of lust.
“Please, need it so bad.” You encouraged his orgasm. And moments later he was groaning lowly as you felt his thick, warm load start to spill all over your pussy. His slow ruts against you were making you melt and you propped your self up on your elbows to see the mess he was making against you. “Do you always cum that much? Fuck…” you chuckled as you glanced up at him and he just smirked at you as he came to a slow stop.
“Do you feel bad?” He asked and you shook your head.
“Not yet at least…” you added and he nodded.
“Okay, me either.” He assured you. “Just wanted to check before I kissed you again.”
“Oh, okay.” You whispered as he leaned in and kissed you slowly again.
Eventually you got cleaned up and back into bed with him. You knew that you would wake up alone, but still weren’t sure if you’d be happy about it or not.
Day Eight: 
When your eyes opened the following morning you felt fine. You weren’t afraid to face Harry, you weren’t regretful of what you’d done. However, you did find yourself wondering when you’d be able to get away with it again.
What did concern you is how he would feel about it this morning. He was eager in the heat of the moment but what about now, after the post nut clarity? The more and more you gave it some thought the more you psyched yourself out and were avoiding joining everyone for breakfast. You were in your patio, smoking a joint to help you build up some appetite, but also to help you relax and be normal when you were in the same room with your aunt, parents, and brother in law who had just come loads over your bare pussy, and of course, your sister, his wife. Well, soon to be ex-wife, but still! It wasn’t official yet!
Finally you decided to bite the bullet and headed towards the kitchen. You greeted everyone good morning and then glanced to Harry who flashed you an easy smile. 
“You alright?” He asked. What sounded like the most casual question to everyone else was the most charged question between you and him. You smiled and nodded.
“Yeah. All good.” You reassured him and he smiled and nodded silently before continuing to eat his breakfast.
OMG SORRY FRIENDS! FOTGOT TO TAAAAG!
@daphnesutton @mads3502 @triski73 @xoxxjada @fangirl509east @stylesftcher @charlottesrecommendations @taintedwonder @goobernickle @loverofhsandallthings1d
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sun-kissy · 2 days ago
Note
🧣 remus lupin + "you fell asleep. it would’ve been cute, if i hadn’t been so paranoid you were actually unconscious"! please! 😁
thank you for the request lovely! :)
slumber | r.l.
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— “You fell asleep. It would’ve been cute, if I hadn’t been so paranoid you were actually unconscious.”
remus lupin x reader
tw: fluff!
Remus can tell that you’re exhausted simply from your voice when you call out to him. It’s full of love, as it always is, just a little dimmer than it was when he kissed you goodbye that morning.
You enter the house and kick off your shoes. Remus meets you in the hallway, tugging your coat off for you before pulling you into his arms. You go easily.
“Hey, sweet girl.”
“Hi,” you mumble, relaxing into him. He splays one hand out between your shoulder blades, the other on the small of your back.
“Long day?”
You make a soft sound halfway between I dunno and mhm. Something in his heart twists when you look up at him, all droopy eyelids and tired smile.
He hums pityingly. “Wanna talk about it?”
You shake your head. Remus pecks your forehead before pulling away to take your hands.
“Okay, that’s okay, sweetheart. Let’s get some food in you.”
There’s nothing you can do but nod, but that’s enough for him. He all but carries you to the kitchen and hoists you up onto the platform.
He manhandles you in the gentlest way, adjusting your too-tired-to-move body until he was certain your head wasn’t going to hit anything.
“Remember that book fair Sirius invited me to, said it was full of classics and poetry?” he glances at you as he moves away. You nod.
Remus starts to cut up ingredients, goes through the familiar motions of making your favourite soup. He knows you’re not yourself when you’re tired — on a normal day, you’d be chatting his ear off. He’ll talk for you instead.
“… and it turns out he was lying. It was a fucking party, at this huge, loud club. I should’ve known, really, I mean it’s Sirius we’re talking about…” he hopes it’s enough to keep you awake. He isn’t usually one for words, but he’d read novels out loud if it meant you were listening.
Remus continues talking, and you really are trying your best to keep up. But your eyelids feel heavy. So heavy.
Maybe he asks you something, you hear the lilt in his voice at the end of his sentence. You don’t answer, you can’t. Your eyes flutter shut as you’re tugged along by the stream of unconsciousness.
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There’s a tingling sensation in your brain, like someone’s pulling your mind out of the depths of sleep. You force your eyes open, squinting as the bright lights of the chandelier in the living room hit your retinas.
“Y/n, sweetheart?”
The vivid light is instantly replaced by your boyfriend’s silhouette as he stands over you. You can’t make out his expression fully, a mix of relief and bemusement and something else you can’t place.
“You’re up, thank god.”
You blink. “What happened?”
Remus gives you a small smile, the skin under his eyes crinkling in slight worry. He helps you up into a sitting position. “You fell asleep. It would’ve been cute, if I hadn’t been so paranoid you were actually unconscious.”
You let out a huff of laughter. “How long was I out for?”
“Three hours.” His expression finally lets up a little, less terse. He sits down next to you, giving you a few giggly kisses before pulling you into his side. “I tried to wake you up more than a few times, dove. But you were out cold. I guess you really were tired, huh?”
“I guess so,” you smile.
“You were,” he grins, rubbing the fat of your arm affectionately. “You were snoring real loud too.”
“I don’t snore!”
“Sure, sweetheart,” he dots a kiss on your nose, “Whatever rocks your boat.”
san’s christmas sleepover
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days ago
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Could we please have a batboys (and Bruce) x reader who can break the 4th wall?
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This was rubbish.
Dick
Would rest his head on your shoulder and ask. ‘Who are you talking to sweetheart?’
He genuinely wants to know considering the first thing he heard was you talking back his beautiful back and perfect thighs, only to find that you were saying all this to no one in particular.
‘Oh just the lovely people reading this.’ You tell him happily and Dick would only see the walls of your shared room.
‘And what are they saying?’ Dick would then say.
‘Oh I can’t hear them, nor can I really see them exactly but I just have this feeling that we are being watched -or read in this case- by many people, I can sense them and i want them to feel included in my love life with the most beautiful man Gotham has to offer.’ You tell him as you kiss him on the cheek, making him smile.
‘Well as long as they know that I am taken by you, then we’ll be okay.’ Dick replied as he kissed your forehead sweetly. Dick at first though you were just the type to talk to yourself like some people, but seeing as how it seemed as though you were more or less addressing someone rather then just talking to yourself, Dick then assumed that you might have an ability that allows you to look past this reality and into another one entirely that might be looking into this one.
It was a scary thought to think that he was being watched ,or read as you put it, by another reality but it was intriguing nonetheless the less that there was a possibility of multiple dimensions. So he could only imagine what you were able to experience if you were able to see beyond this reality to address people who probably saw him in a different form entirely.
If anything he’s extremely curious as to how your ability worked exactly as it was something that was clearly unheard of. Somedays you would address the audience as per usual but other times you didn’t address them at all, almost as though you knew where and when they’ll pay attention to you both: all so that you could entertain them for as long as possible without it coming across as excessive or too long winded.
He would try to act like he could see them too as to not have you feeling so alone, but would get flustered when you tell him that he was looking the wrong way.
He’ll leave the fourth wall breaking to you instead and will be nosy and ask all sorts of questions about your ability, all before saying that your powers was the most coolest he’s come across, but you knew he was only saying that because you were his beloved partner but that didn’t make what he said any less true.
Jason
Would raise a brow at first but would keep this tendency to himself out of a need to protect you from those who’d gladly send you away for such tendency.
Jason isn’t phased by much but you talking to a wall as though someone was there brought a weird feeling to his chest.
‘His thighs? Perfect. His stomach and autopsy scars? Delicious. Arms, hands and back? Gorgeous but all of you at home are already aware of that and could only imagine how plush his tits are-‘
‘Who are you talking to chipmunk?’ He’d ask, cutting you off as he expected you to be on the phone to someone, so imagine to his surprise when he saw your phone on charge and you were in fact talking to thin air.
‘Just the people thirsting after you.’ You’d reply as though it was common sense.
‘Thirsting?’ Jason tried the word, not liking how it sounded coming from his mouth. ‘What’s that?’
‘Just think of it as another word for desire, but they can’t have you because in their reality you’re a fictional character who gets the short end of the stick constantly by people who don’t know what to do with you in general.’ You shrugged as you looked over at him with a smile. ‘Also you get stereotyped as someone you’re not by people who obviously lack a capacity for reading given how short their attention span is.’ The last part was muttered under your breath before bringing the conversation back to him.
‘Enough about me how about you honey?’
It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and Jason knew it wouldn’t be the last either as he would find you passionately ranting to your invisible audience about something, and while it was cute to watch you be this passionate, he also became concerned for you in case you were going through something that you didn’t want to burden him with out of a need to protect yourself.
‘You can tell me if you’re going through something you know that right?’ He’d tell you one night as he holds your face in his hands.
‘Of course I do jaybird,’ you whispered to him before watching him as he fell asleep, only to move your head elsewhere to speak to the wall. ‘Isn’t he the cutest? Truly a man unlike any other, a dying breed if you will, but I can assure you dear readers that you too will find your Jason Todd because that’s what you all deserve in life is to be loved deeply by an non-judgmental and caring man.’ You fished before joining him in your sleep.
Tim
He thinks your maladaptive daydreaming.
What else was he meant to take away from you talking to seemingly no one so passionately as you did in that moment.
He didn’t want to say that you were insane but it wasn’t everyday where a sane person would idly make conversation with thin air or a brick wall as casually as you did.
That or you were extremely lacking in sleep and were now seeing things, if that was the case then he would be able to relate to you as he had those types of days also, more often then others that’s for sure but from what Tim could tell was far from the truth as you looked bright and too well rested for that to be the answer.
And honestly? He doesn’t want to know who exactly you were talking to as not to frighting himself shitless and would act as though you talking to a crowd of no one within your shared room was completely normal in Gotham.
God forbid you start talking to this unseen audience during the night, Tim will think he’s in some sort of horror movie that he was forced to watch with the rest of his family on Halloween. Seriously who knew fourth wall breaking could come across as though you were demonically possessed?
He wants to ask who you’re talking to, he really does but if he was running low on fumes that day, really tired and wanting nothing more then sleep he would forgo all logic and just agree with what you were saying to thin air.
‘I wish I could tell you just how mean Tim can be when he’s sleep deprived, you think you know sarcasm? Wait until Tim is on about two hours of sleep and then you’ll know true sarcasm.’ You’d say.
‘Says the one who’s talking to the wall as though it had ears to listen or a mouth to respond.’ He’d replied.
‘See what Im on about? Absolutely mean when he’s sleep deprived.’ He would hear you whisper aloud but he was on the verge of falling asleep against the table to find out the true reason to your uncanny ability to break the fourth wall.
Damian
Genuinely thought something was off with how often you would look off into the distance, as though you were addressing someone he couldn’t see, like a hidden camera that lead to an unseen audience.
‘Isn’t he the cutest when he’s acting all tough,’ he’d her you say, ‘it’s like if you give a rabid chihuahua a knife but ten times worse because he can actually back up his deeply descriptive threats.’ Damian’s brow would raise at this as he watched you silently as his mind wondered who you could possibly be entertaining with such things.
Gotham has an ability to make the most strong minded person break and needles to say Damian would keep silent watch over you while you had these kinds of episodes, even when you would proudly praise his artistic skills but never to him directly, but more so to seemingly thin air with a beaming smile.
‘He’s got a future as many things and in all honestly I’m envious of how multitalented my Dami is, but at least I get to be his hype man and cheer for him no matter what, which is something I bet half of you which you could have but here I am loving your fantasy!’ You’d finish with a cackle and it left Damian smiling to himself at your pride towards him, but also still very curious as to who it was you were talking to.
‘Who are you talking to.’ He would ask you one day.
‘The audience reading this fic.’ You’d reply as though it was the most casual thing to bring up in conversation.
Damian’s brows furrowed. ‘Audience? What audience.’ He tried looking in the same direction as you, only to see nothing but his bed.
‘Oh I don’t expect you to see them but they are there,’ you tried to reassure Damian but it only came off as ominous and albeit cryptic, ‘they are always there, watching.’ You’d add and needles to say your words only made Damian go into a defensive posture at the aspect of being spectated by beings only you could seemingly engage with.
Well done you’ve made Damian somewhat paranoid as to what this audience you speak to wanted, what they wanted with you to have you keep engaging in conversation with them and what they could be planning.
‘Always watching?’ Damian asked.
‘Yep,’ you replied, ‘but not when we’re in the bathroom, that’s just really weird but other then that we are merely entertainment for them to consume on days of boredom and to grow a parasocial relationship with us to their leisure.’ You added and when you looked over at Damian, his jade eyes were wide and you winced internally, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all because now you’d knew Damian would start reaching for his sword out of instinct now.
Try and tell him it’s a joke as much as you like but Damian would now take your ability to break the fourth wall as a sign that someone was out there, watching all of you, an invisible enemy that he couldn’t kill and it pissed him off. He’ll break you free of the curse…sooner or later.
Bruce
‘That man is finer than a mother fucker and he knows it. And I know damn well all you thirsty bitches are making edits of my sexy Bruce to the song of older by Isabel LaRosa. I just know it you absolute sluts, but I can’t blame you because I would too.’ Bruce had just finished showering and the first thing he sees is you seemingly talking to a wall as though you were talking to a group of people in a whole different plan of existence.
He’s seen a lot of things in his time as Batman but someone talking to people who aren’t there? He’d assume you’re either clairvoyant or have another ability that can allow you to talk to an audience of people whom he can’t see, for whatever it was wouldn’t change Bruce’s opinion on you, powers or not.
‘My darling.’ He’d greet you as he holds you from behind. ‘May I ask why and or who you were speaking so passionately about me to?’ He adds.
‘The people reading this fanfic.’ You’d tell him as though it was a completely normal thing to admit as it was something you had been doing for as long as you could remember. Your parents thought you were talking to an invisible friend like other kids your age, but it grew concerning when you were still talking to no one in particular well into your late teens.
Bruce just raised a brow but would assume that you had some ability that you weren’t comfortable to admit to him, and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk to him about such a thing, especially not if you had admitted to someone in the past before and their reactions were negative.
He would just try and look deeper into this sort of thing in hopes of finding any pre-existing information about anyone showing similar signs as you and reading it deeply and intensively so that he could be well informed to know what you were going through. Bruce loves to be educated on things that he didn’t understand with the hopes of understanding it on a deeper level, so if he did managed to find something that perfectly describes what you were doing, then he’ll be reading it until he could recite it in his sleep.
He didn’t want you to feel as though you should be ashamed of your unique ability and would often take notes and things that he’d noticed you do as you addressed the invisible audiences in vivid detail. Your ability to see into another reality or anything similar to talk to people was a powerful thing to have and Bruce was fascinated by such a unique power, a power that could prove that alternate realities exist.
But Bruce would find himself intrigued with how you talked to this invisible audiences, almost as though you were greeting an old friend, whether or not this was your way to cope with the fact that you could sense an audience watching your every move and leave no privacy to be had for yourself. It was unfortunately something Bruce wasn’t quite sure but until your ability was causing you harm he would contour to watch and observe while acting as though he was unaware/ unfazed of your tendency to talking to seemingly no one.
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Basically reader: you should know this too
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loverangels · 3 days ago
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enchanted
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pairings: timothee chalamet x female reader
synopsis: your celebrity crush reveals his admiration for you and you can't help but tease him for it in your run in on the met gala
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It was supposed to be a quiet day on set. Your latest project had been keeping you busy, and today was no different—costume fittings, script run-throughs, and a few late takes. The steady hum of activity kept you focused, but when you returned to your trailer for a break, your phone was blowing up.
Texts from friends, a slew of Instagram notifications, and several unread emails. Confused, you opened one from your manager, the subject line simply reading: You’ll want to see this.
It was a clip.
Timothée Chalamet, sitting comfortably on a late-night talk show, was in the middle of one of his now-infamous animated interviews. His laughter filled the screen, infectious and boyish, and for a brief moment, you smiled, charmed by him like everyone else.
But then the question came.
"So, Timothée, who’s your celebrity crush?"
The audience whooped, the host leaned in with a knowing grin, and Timothée, trying to play it cool, gave a little shrug.
He hesitated, his fingers running through his tousled curls in that effortless way only he could pull off. And then, with a tiny, almost bashful smile, he said your name.
Your actual name.
You froze.
The host’s mouth fell open, clearly not expecting it. "Really? Her?"
Timothée’s cheeks flushed pink, but he nodded. "Yeah, I mean, she’s incredible. Just ridiculously talented, you know? And beautiful, obviously. But she just seems..." He trailed off, his hands moving as if to grab the words out of the air. "...Like, really cool. Smart. Genuine. I don’t know, there’s something about her."
You watched the clip in stunned silence, replaying it again. And again. And again.
The internet was already in flames. Tweets, TikToks, and Instagram edits were flooding your notifications. Fans were losing their minds. You didn’t even have time to process how you felt about it.
---
A Week Later: The Met Gala
The Met Gala red carpet was chaos in the best way. Flashing cameras, booming voices, and the rush of silk, sequins, and couture gowns swept around you. You moved down the carpet like you’d done a hundred times before—posing for photos, answering questions, and offering polite smiles to everyone who crossed your path.
But tonight was different. You could feel it.
The buzz in the air, the way reporters whispered to each other before approaching you. It wasn’t hard to figure out why.
“Has Timothée seen you yet?” a cheeky journalist asked as you posed, their microphone in your face.
You laughed it off, tilting your head. "I have no idea," you replied, trying to keep your voice light. "But I think that’s the question of the night, huh?"
You moved on quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. The thought of running into him tonight had lingered in the back of your mind all week, but now, as the moment seemed to inch closer, the reality of it hit you.
And then it happened.
You felt it before you saw him—the weight of his gaze. Turning slightly, your eyes met his, and everything else seemed to blur out of focus.
He looked... breathtaking. A perfectly tailored avant-garde suit hugged his lean frame, the kind only he could make look effortlessly cool. His hair was swept back just enough to still be messy, and his lips curled into a soft, almost shy smile as he walked toward you.
The cameras went berserk.
He stopped just a foot away, his eyes never leaving yours. "Hey," he said, his voice low and familiar, as though you weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people and a sea of flashing lights.
"Hey," you replied, your throat suddenly dry.
He hesitated, his hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced around. "So... I feel like I should apologize."
You raised an eyebrow, your lips tugging into a smile. "For what?"
"For accidentally turning your life into a circus," he said, his grin sheepish, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of red.
You laughed softly, the sound cutting through your nerves. "It’s fine. If anything, you gave my publicist a new hobby. Crisis management is her favorite thing."
His laugh was boyish and genuine, and for a moment, it was just the two of you.
"You really do look amazing," he said after a beat, his voice softer now. His eyes traced the intricate details of your gown like he wanted to memorize it.
"So do you," you replied, and then, feeling a little bold, you added, "Though I guess you don’t need me to tell you that."
He chuckled, shifting slightly closer. "Not true. Compliments mean a lot more when they’re coming from you."
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, and you were thankful for the dimmed lights that kept the moment from feeling too exposed.
Before either of you could say more, a handler appeared at Timothée’s side, gently reminding him he had to finish the carpet.
He glanced at them, then back at you, clearly reluctant to leave. "Guess I’ll see you inside?"
"Maybe," you teased.
As he turned to go, he shot you one last look over his shoulder, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite name. Excitement, maybe. Or curiosity.
And as the night wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.
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bitchlessdino · 2 days ago
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with great certainty (m)
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Pairing: Prince!soonyoung x reincarnated stranger!Fem!reader Genre: fantasy, isekai (reincarnation in another world), fluff, smut Word count: 1.5k  rating: R tags: Royal AU, commoner!reader, yearning, fingering, light dirty talking Summary: Love was bounded by books, at least that's what Soonyoung believed learning about love only through books, but after meeting you he realized love had none. Love has no bounds. Not even for him, a prince. author note: thank you @gyuswhore and @highvern for betareading for me and SURPRISE @etherealyoungk I'M YOUR SECRET SANTA . And thank you @camandemstudios for hosting this event! i really hope you enjoy it skye because i had a great time writing it and i tried getting really creative as possibly with the word limit we had. Happy holidays and Merry Christmas, stay warm wherever you are I hope you're have the best holiday and an even better New Year <3
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae
Soonyoung was meant for great things and that included the crown of his country. He came from a long line of Kwons, a centuries old lineage that transcended wars, famine, and anarchy. The youngest of two, the eldest and only son, and the direct heir to the throne of a patriarchal monarch. It was his destiny and everything that he's been taught has led up to this moment.
But he realized the crown meant nothing when he met you—an anomaly in his once perfect world. You came in with your strange clothing and foreign customs like you were from another world, and he was starting to think you were with how much you tried convincing him. 
You told him you don’t belong here. That you were brought here by mistake, somehow reborn in a world far different than your own. He could imagine how disorienting it must’ve been if you were telling the truth but what he did understand was that you were confused. So, suddenly, he took you in, something he never planned for.
He housed you, clothed you, fed you, taught you the proper mannerisms of his land, but what he didn’t expect to do was fall madly in love with you. Someone who wasn’t even a loyal subject, let alone royalty like his advisors wanted him to marry. 
He didn’t even think it was possible, but the emotions he felt; the jealousy, the fondness, the warmth. It all resembled what he read in love stories. The kind of love he’d envisioned having one day, that he hoped to have even as King. A true, real, unconditional love.
And although he was sure that’s what it had to be, he couldn’t be too sure.
He dragged you somewhere far, far away from his palace, but not without your playful protest. Somewhere no one would suspect they’d be. Where they could be themselves. Where he could be honest. And being Prince, let alone King, wasn’t something that mattered.
“What is it, Your Highness?” you asked with a breathless laugh, heart racing from chasing after him in the middle of nowhere.
“Somewhere private, just for us,” he vaguely answered, his grin baring in mischief.
You narrowed your eyes at him as you entered an empty cottage, furnished with the bare necessities. “Why? What are you planning?”
He sat you on a dining chair, taking one beside you. “I want to know about your world. Please, indulge me.”
You weren’t sure where to start, maybe with the fact that magic and dragons didn't exist like they did here, only concepts of them. And the jobs that the people had—the jobs you had were less labor inducing compared to here, yet less rewarding. There were things you missed and some you didn’t.
You sighed, feeling yourself get lost in your words, thinking you’ve gone off the rails rambling. You rested your hand against his that laid flat on his thigh. “I’m not good at explaining things, sorry.”
He shook his head reassuringly. “That’s quite alright. I rather enjoy hearing you talk.”
A soft smile graced your features. “You’re too kind to me, your Highness.”
“I’m to be king one day,” he proudly reasoned, puffing out his chest, “Being kind is second nature.”
You grinned, shaking your head at him amused, used to his grandeur gestures and expressions as time passed and Soonyoung couldn’t help but stare. “If I may be honest.” He accepted your hand, thumbing over your knuckles. “I had other intentions.”
“Other intentions? What kind?”
His eyes flitted towards yours, a fervent heat growing behind them as they scanned over your features. He raised a hand to bring a single strand of hair behind your ear, letting it linger on your neck. The sensation pebbled your skin and you parted your lips, eyes fluttering back at him anticipatingly as he leaned closer. He tasted your subtle savor of nectar and berries, humming in utter delight, feeling you melt against his lips effortlessly.
He muffled your moan under his lips and swiftly reeled you to straddle his lap, the fabric of your clothes spilling around his sides. He took your skirt and bunched them up in fists, caressing your smooth thighs that wrapped around him delectably. Shallow breaths escaped his lungs—followed by the fervor of relief—crushed by the tension of your body that felt like heaven’s clouds in his hands.
Your arms looped around his neck, the fire in your chest burning brighter than all your days having met Soonyoung, and you feared this one would be harder to extinguish. Mustering up the courage that barely bustled inside you to match his pace, you clung to his fervid torso radiating through his garments that were far too thin for any cold weather—still, burdened by the circumstances. 
The thought of possible consequences crossed your mind just briefly, even in the sweet bliss of the prince's tender kiss, you trembled against his touch at the thought of what could go terribly wrong if you proceeded any further.
Soonyoung could sense your hesitancy and gently parted from you, the tip of his nose tickling against yours delicately that you audibly gasped. “What’s wrong?” he asked in quiet concern.
“Your Highness—“
“Soonyoung, please call me Soonyoung.”
You melted into a smile of realization. “I don’t think I ever learned your name. It’s pretty—but, are you sure this is something you want to do? With me that is?”
“My dear…” Soonyoung beckoned you closer, hand against the nape of your neck, his lips ghosting against yours. “If I am certain of anything, your lips felt as if they were made to make contact with mine because nothing has ever felt so right until this very moment.”
“But,” you interrupted, through your heavy-lidded gaze. “You’re going to be King one day…and I don’t belong in this world,” you whispered devastatingly, anguish coloring your tone.
“But you belong with me,” he breathed confidently.
He reconnected your lips, his hand falling down your back to tug and loosen the ribbon of your corset, pouring your bosoms out of their restraints before he pressed his body against yours to catch their spillage, reveling in their warmth. “With great certainty, you my love, belong with me. Just as much as I belong with you.”
You clasped your hand over his cool cheek, finding him naturally nuzzling against your palm, his eyes narrowing back at you in a spell of adoration.  “How is it you are so certain?” 
Sooonyoung pressed his lips against your cheek, “I’ve laid my eyes on many beautiful sights in my Kingdom—,” then against your collarbone, feeling his presence linger down your neck like a hot fiery trail, “—I’ve marveled at oceans, mountains, mysterious creatures, princesses, and queens…”
Then like his gaze, his lips fell to the fullness of your breasts, kissing around their plush weight until his eyes flitted back up to meet your gaze. “Yet, nothing and no one dare stand in comparison to the enchanting enigma in front of me.”
“Y-you find me enchanting?”
“Incredibly so.”
You started to relax, hands finding themselves teasing the hem of his shirt before crawling underneath, lifting it slightly to see the sliver of his sweltering abdomen. “That’s surreal coming from you…Soonyoung.”
He hummed, finding purchase around your hips as his face buried his chin between the valleys of your chest. “Say my name again.”
“Soonyoung…”
He sighed deeply, his smile caressing your jaw before your lips joined together once more, “The Heavens seemed to have lost an angel.”
You found it easier to succumb to your urges, entangling your bodies until articles of clothing found their fates on the ground. Although doubt clouded their actions before, they wouldn’t now, not if the prince had anything to say about it. 
It was funny. Soonyoung’s hands were trained to command armies, write laws, and lead his country to their brightest possible future. Yet, here they were slipping down your undergarments, digits sinfully tracing over the aching core that fluttered at his touch.
Your stomach tensed as his fingers dipped deeper in experimentation, his eyes glazed over your expression in both interest and caution. “How’s that?” He softly asked.
“Good,” you responded, even quieter.
His fingers pushed in deeper, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your sensitive bud, and a wave of shock ran up your spine, having you shift your thighs to find his growing arousal that caused a tent in his pants. “S-shit.”
“My lady,” Soonyoung chuckled, a devilish grin gracing on his Highness’s angelic face. “That’s quite the dirty mouth you have there. Do you think a soon-to-be King would approve of such a thing?”
Despite his words, he showed no signs of stopping, watching you become a moaning mess undone merely by his fingers as you rolled your hips against his unfaltering erection. 
He was meant to have you. He felt it. He knew it. He saw it. He foretold it. Nothing could tell him otherwise.
Not even the crown.
154 notes · View notes
megamindsecretlair · 2 days ago
Text
Sweet Escape, Part 3
Pairing: Bodyguard!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, mental health, power imbalance. Mentions of violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. Finally landing in LA, your boots hit the ground and you’re off in a whirlwind of getting prepared. During rehearsal, your agent shows up causing a ruckus. After you take a break, you wake up to the sound of desperate pounding on your door.
Word Count: 6,676k
AO3 Link | Part 1 | Part 2
A/N: WHEW. Sorry for my absence yall. My brain got hands. And I didn't mean to scare folks away! You can absolutely ask about my fics! Asking for an update just doesn't help. But sharing your love for it motivates me a lot faster! And you can thank @onherereading for gently bullying me to post sumn! LOL, love you. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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Male dancers lifted you into the air and you continued singing the hook to your most popular song, “Eat It”. It stayed on the charts, week after week, remaining strong and steady. And it was the song that most got you in trouble for the explicit lyrics. 
You sang, testing the sound as well as the choreography on stage. Coming to LA had been a non-stop shit show of rehearsals and talk shows and radio interviews. God, you were tired. And you wanted to lay down and pig out in front of the TV. But nooooo.
Plus…well….you weren’t feeling particularly sexy at the moment. Terry rejecting you the other night shook you up more than you cared to admit. Why would he reject you? You were beautiful, smart, and funny on a great day. And yet, nothing.
There were just lingering glances and moments where it looked like he wanted to say something but never did. You didn’t like the cold front you suddenly found yourself in so you kept yourself busy, distracted, and left no room for you to be left alone with him for longer than a minute or two. 
But the hit to your confidence bruised. You didn’t feel normal. Like none of this was real. It was a cruel illusion that could be snatched away from one viral tweet, one public meltdown, or one scandal to torpedo your career. The stalker ate away at your life until you couldn’t even get a guy to fuck you stupid. 
It was embarrassing. It was stupid. He was stupid. 
“Stop! Stop! What the fuck is that?” A booming, obnoxious voice echoed in the empty stadium. 
“Down boys,” you said. The male dancers moved safely, bringing you back down to stand on your own two feet. One of their hands lingered a fraction too long, but you didn’t know if you were being paranoid or not. 
Jake, your stupid agent, came huffing down the front area aisle, a skinny tie swinging behind him. “What the fuck is that? What are you doing?” Jake demanded. He stomped onto the stage and approached you.
“Lower your fucking tone, I’m not a child,” you said. You sneered at him and then crossed the stage, taking the three steps down to the backstage area. You refused to be chewed out in front of your team.
Jake stomped angrily behind you. Terry leaned against the wall near the exit but when he saw you approach, he straightened up. You looked away from him quickly, not wanting him to see what must be written all over your face whenever you looked at him. 
“Who do you think you are?” You asked, pulling on that bitchy persona. 
“The man making sure that fat ass stays rolling in money. You are selling a fantasy up there. Every guy needs to feel like he’s fucking you and every woman needs to feel like they want to be you,” he said.
“Really, tell me more about the job I’ve been doing for years,” you said.
“Thanks to me, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget that,” Jake spat, pointing his finger in your face. Ugh. You smacked his finger away and crossed your arms. Jake was back on that shit. His neck and face was flushed cherry red, his eyes were glossy, and he sniffed every two seconds like he smelled something bad. 
“You can’t stay sober for two fucking seconds, Jake. Is that what happened at the club?” That would explain the bullshit he pulled.
“Hey. You’re fucking welcome. That free publicity gained you a million more followers and featured on Spotify. Who takes care of you?” Jake asked, spreading his arms wide. 
You were so disgusted, you didn’t know what to do with him. Ugh. You breathed through your nostrils, centering yourself on the feeling of it rather than wanting to wring Jake’s neck. 
You leveled him with a glare and leaned in. “I take care of you, you piece of shit. And if you pull something like that again, I’ll fire you. Stay off the drugs, Jake,” you said. The last thing you needed was to end up on TMZ, because your agent was out on another embarrassing bender. 
Jake pressed his lips together and threw up his hands. “Alright, alright. Look at me. I ain’t on no shit, okay. I heard you the last time. Clean my act up and I can stay, right? I got a suit on and everything,” he said. He spread his arms out and smiled but you weren’t in a smiling mood.
Jake pouted and wrapped his hands around your waist. A waft of cigarette smoke burned your nose and made your eyes tear up. Terry pushed away from the wall but you held up a hand to him. “Remove your hands before I break your fingers,” you said, as calmly as you could muster. 
You didn’t have time for this fucking clown. And where the fuck was Joya or Mirage? They knew better than to let Jake near you while you were in work mode. 
Jake squeezed your hips once before he removed his hands and held them up like he was so innocent. He grinned and looked down his hooked nose at you. “Just remember what’s standing between you and popping your pussy for any producer that wants to sniff after you. Clean this shit up, we have money to make,” he said lowly for your benefit. 
You didn’t know how much Terry could hear but it stung either way. Jake loved throwing that shit in your face. Loved making you think that you were some gutter rat that no one wanted. Grammy Bean wanted you. You were somebody. And no agent was going to make you feel less than. 
“Make them think they’re fucking you while you’re up there. Jesus Christ,” Jake said, needing to have the final word. He took off, disappeared to go yell at somebody about something. 
You rubbed your head, fighting back tears. Got dammit. Once you let the dam fall, the whole thing came crashing down. You didn’t have time to cry right now. Now when everyone was expecting you to lead them. 
“You okay?” Terry asked. 
You tilted your head back and swiped at your eyelids, catching the tears before they had a chance to fall. The one blessing about rehearsals was that there was no make up or restrictive clothing. You sniffled once and then straightened your shoulders, rolling your neck to get the kinks out. 
“I’m fine, Mr. Terry, thank you,” you said.
“So we’re back to Mr. Terry?” He asked softly. 
You risked a glance at him. He squinted at you, his face tilted down. You held each other’s gazes for a second longer than what was polite. You went to open your mouth when Mirage tumbled down the stairs and stopped short of where you were standing.
“Jake’s ready to see it again,” she said quietly. 
You turned away from Terry’s intense eyes, and nodded. “Let’s give him a show then,” you said.
You went back on stage and talked to your dancers, letting them know that you were going full out. You signed to the sound engineer to start from the top. 
The choreography began with the dancers standing in front of you. Once the opening lyrics started, you moved around the stage singing and rapping about men catering to women’s needs for once. That if they can’t eat it right then there was no reason to let them hit. 
The male dancers lifted you during the hook, supporting your weight while you sang and rubbed your hand along your body. You were a master at pretending. At working off the energy in the room. 
You fed off of the song and the lyrics. Embodied what you were saying. Pulled on your inner sex goddess to coo to the invisible audience. Even though you wore your favorite blue joggers and a tank top, you felt like you were scantily clad in your performance outfit. You were selling a fantasy. A fantasy that everyone wanted a ride but no one met the height requirements.
The dancers put you down and then held your hand up while you dropped it low on one of them. From this angle, you faced the side of the stage where Terry stared at you. Stared as you rapped and sang about getting ate out and having a super soaker to make him drown.
He may have turned you down the other night, but the heat of his gaze made your belly flip. Made you move harder, rap faster, and sing better like you were a siren luring men to do your bidding. 
Your eyes almost never left his as you pretended to sing to him and make him think about what he turned down. Let him think on it. Because he couldn’t have you now. You were off the menu. 
He was too far away and you were moving too fast to get a good read on his expression. He stood stiffly, feet shoulder width apart, and his hands clasped in front of him. As the song drew to a close, you winked at him before tilting your head back and belting out the final notes.
When the song ended, you tore your eyes away from the intense static of his stormy eyes to the sound of clapping from somewhere.
“Yes! Yes! That’s what they’re coming to see. Do that! Exactly that!” Jake yelled out to you. 
“Take a thirty everyone,” you said, panting from going full out for rehearsal. You stood on stage with your hands behind your head, panting, trying to catch your breath and cool the desire low in your belly.
Fuck. Singing to Terry like that affected you way more than you realized. It maybe wasn’t the smartest move in hindsight. You just needed a good twenty minutes to get yourself off.
Joya climbed onto the stage to hand you a bottle of water and some orange slices. “I put some more fruit in your dressing room in case you wanted it,” she said. 
“I love you, seriously,” you told her with a smile. 
She clutched her calendar to her chest and beamed at you. “I love you too, miss lady. Though you’re probably going to hate me now. They need you back for another fitting. Francois changed his mind,” Joya said.
You emptied the bottle of water she handed you in one fell swoop and wiped your mouth. “This is bullshit. We made a whole schedule to make sure everyone, including me, was happy about this tour,” you said.
You hated to sound like a whiny brat but fuck. It seemed like more and more things were getting added onto your schedule, things you didn’t approve of. You weren’t a machine. Did they expect you to keep working until you collapsed on stage? 
Joya smiled and rubbed your shoulder. “I’m gonna check with Mirage and see what we can do about sneaking you some off time. We have a week before the LA leg starts. Surely we can move something,” she promised.
You sighed. “I don’t want you to do all that extra work. I need to yell at Jake some more. He can’t keep adding in stuff last minute. I’m so fucking tired, bro,” you told her.
“It’s our job to make sure you’re good. Let us,” she said. She took your empty water bottle and scurried off to tend to her duties. 
The dancers were all standing around talking and laughing. Stage hands moved around the stage, talking into their microphones, and moved prop elements as they did so. As much as you wanted to join the dancers or speak to the choreographer, you also wanted two minutes of peace. 
But that meant…stepping past Terry. You rolled your shoulders. You were a big girl. You could handle rejection. It wasn’t the end of the world. 
You turned and headed off stage, taking three steps down to the main floor. There were boxes and studio equipment spread out back here, each tagged with different colored tape. Terry eyed you as you approached.
“I’m just heading to the dressing room for a few,” you told him. 
He nodded and fell in step behind you as you walked through a set of double doors, then into a plain hallway backstage. Stage hands moved around but they all moved with focus and purpose. Your sneakers squeaked on the shiny floor. Terry was so quiet behind you, you were tempted to look back to make sure he was still there. But you also got the funny sense that if you did, he’d disappear.
When you approached your dressing room, you hesitated one step from it. Logically, you knew that there was nothing in there. Terry had his team triple the security around you and you hadn’t heard from your stalker since that incident.
It’d be so much easier if you knew what they were after. Did they want to be with you? An obsessed fan you could deal with. You just ignored those wackadoodles until they made themselves known somehow. 
Did they want to kill you? Clearly he had a way to get in and out unseen. Was he someone on your team? You didn’t want to turn into a paranoid loon, looking at everyone with suspicion and further isolate yourself. But fuck.
“Would you like me to check?” Terry asked.
You stared at your navy blue door and bit your lip. Yes….no….you wanted to be brave. Wanted to handle this yourself. But you didn’t know if there would be some other disgusting rendition of your dead face staring right back at you. 
You took a deep breath and prepared to tell him no. Terry stepped forward. “There’s no reward for being a martyr,” he said.
You deflated with a sigh. “Can you check please?” You asked.
Terry moved around you and then unsheathed his weapon. He held it down and away from him and then opened your door. He went in first, moving around the space, holding the gun up. You stayed outside of the door, watching him flit through the crack of the door jam. 
The air turned colder now that he wasn’t beside you. The hallway seemed to close in on you, getting smaller and smaller. Your breathing turned choppy, looking down one way and then the other. 
When you simply couldn’t take another second, Terry emerged from your dressing room and holstered his gun. “All clear,” he said.
You nodded and refused to look at him. “Thank you. I just need some alone time,” you said.
You shuffled past him and he held onto your wrist to stop you. You didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to face him. 
“You don’t have to be formal around me. If I crossed the line the other day, I can transfer…”
“No!” You practically screeched and turned to him finally. You licked your lips and smiled. “I mean, no, no. If anything, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made it uncomfortable –”
“I wasn’t uncomfortable.”
“I’m the boss, you’re in my employ. Please, don’t think nothing else about it. Okay?” You asked.
Terry’s jaw flexed but he nodded. You snatched your wrist away and entered your dressing room, rubbing the spot where his fingers had been. It was as if he seared you with his light grip and the burn lingered.
You damn near slammed the door in his face, locking it behind you. You just needed a second. A moment to breathe and not have to be “on” for people. 
You crossed the small room to the black leather couch and sat down. The coolness of the leather did precious little to calm you down. You weren’t in danger. You weren’t immediately in danger. 
Terry checked the room, he came highly recommended by the firm, and so far, he had been nothing but the consummate professional, taking your safety seriously. 
As you sat there, however, it just drudged up all the horrible shit from your past. Breaking away from your user family. On your knees begging producers to give you a chance, only for them to use their position and power to solicit sex. One talk with Jake shook you up so bad that it reminded you that every day you breathed was a gift, thanks to what you had to do to survive. 
But it had been a long, long time since you had to be this on edge. This hyper aware of your safety and mortality. Someone out there wanted to cause you harm. They wanted you mentally, emotionally, and physically cowering.
Even as you knew that, even as the logic of it settled in your bones, the only thing you could think was that someone wanted you dead. Someone deemed your life less than theirs. Someone felt angry enough about your existence to make your life a living hell and ultimately, remove you from this plane of existence. 
It chilled you to the bone. To your absolute core. One wrong move and then this would have all been for nothing. All of the struggles, all of the navigating, all of the ways you had to scrimp and scrape to be somebody. 
In the end, you were the same, lonely teenager who didn’t want to be invisible anymore. 
The sweet scent of fruit reminded you of Joya’s thoughtfulness but you were too sick to eat anymore. Maybe you just needed to lay down. You scooted along the couch until you could recline. 
You shoved a throw pillow behind your head and closed your eyes. You just needed to breathe. Just needed to focus on that and nothing else. Nothing else. Just that.
You breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth. You felt your body sink further into the couch and before long, you were out like a light.
Loud banging disturbed you from your sleep. You woke up in a pool of cold sweat running down your neck and into your tank top. You groaned and blinked into the harsh overhead lighting. 
Your eyes cracked open, heavy with sleep and eye crusties, as your eyes swept through the room. There was a director’s chair in front of the vanity, lit up by giant light bulbs all around the mirror. The countertop was littered with makeup, tissues, and hair products. 
Dressing room. “Fuck,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. 
The banging continued, sounding louder than normal. “I’m up, I’m up, I’m sorry!” You groaned. Fuck, you felt like you had been drugged.
Your rapid heart beats only sped up as you thought about what you had earlier in the day. Had you been drugged? Was it Joya?
The banging increased and the door shook with the force. It disrupted your thoughts enough to know that Joya would never, ever do something like that to you. Besides, she’s had years to take you out. 
You still made a mental note to give her a pay bump. Mirage too. You keep them happy and they’d keep you happy. 
Three succinct booms hit the door and you jumped up. “Okay, I said I was sorry! Damn! It couldn't have been more than…” You stood up and crossed the room, unlocking the door to discover no one on the other side. “Ten minutes.” 
You stepped out of the room and looked both ways down the empty hallway. Terry was nowhere to be found. 
“Terry?” You stepped further into the hallway but it was as quiet as a tomb. The space felt empty and that freaked you out more than anything else. 
How long had you been sleep? Why did no one wake you? Where was everyone? 
A tremor made your hands shake and your fingers turned numb. Did…no one care? If they couldn’t find you, did they all just pack up and leave? 
“This isn’t funny,” you called out but there was no answer. Not even an echo. Your throat turned dry as you made your way back to the stage. Maybe everyone was having a team meeting. Maybe Joya and Mirage found a way to give you some breathing room.
You pushed open the door to the stage and walked up onto it, only to discover no one in sight. The main stage lights were off, leaving the stage bathed in a swirl of blues, purples, and reds. 
You shielded your eyes. “Hello? What the hell!” You yelled. This was beyond fucking uncool. And your phone was either in your room or with Joya, so you had no clue what time it was.
Panic clawed its way from your belly to your chest, scratching your insides with thick, angry nails. Did everyone just…forget about you? 
You brought your hand to your chest as if that would do anything. All it did was call attention to your thumping heart, beating incessantly. Everyone forgot you. No one needed you. 
“Okay, okay, okay, that’s okay,” you murmured to yourself as you paced around the stage. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. 
If everyone left, that was okay. You were paying them to care, but it didn’t mean that their lives ended just to serve your overinflated ego. You would just…go find your purse in your room. You would grab your phone. Order a car to take you home. Easy. Simple. You had this. 
You told yourself that as you left the empty stage, back down the stairs, and away from backstage. You headed down the hallway, rubbing your sweaty hands on your joggers. You were just stressed, that was it.
You approached your dressing room, it had been left open from when you left it. There didn’t seem to be anyone in there. But…still.
You approached cautiously, wondering what the fuck was going on. How did everyone just leave like that? No matter their personal lives, this was unprofessional as fuck. If they called it early, they should have had the decency to let you know. And why would Terry abandon his post? It was quite literally his job to guard your body.
Highly recommended, yeah right. 
You made it to your dressing room and peered inside, stepping inward to check behind the door. Good. No one there. You stepped further into the room before it dawned on you that if no one was there, if no one was around…who the fuck banged on the door? 
You turned slowly just as a bat came swinging towards your head. You leapt out of the way with a scream, throwing yourself against the vanity. 
A figure dressed head to toe in black lifted the baseball bat to his shoulders. The figure was on the small side, but broad. Had to be a man. 
“What do you want from me?” You yelled. You moved the director’s chair in front of you, to deter the figure. He only kept advancing, holding the bat like you were the game winning ball and he needed a home run. 
You lifted the chair and threw it at him, running from the room. Facing three possible directions, you forgot where the exit was. You also forgot how to read, because there were signs but it didn’t make any sense at the moment.
The figure groaned and it spurned you to run, to flee, to find the exit however you were able to. Thundering footsteps boomed behind you as you ran away. Your lungs felt like they were going to go flying out of your mouth. They burned and ached as you ran and ran.
All of the exercise and training you kept up with did fuck all when faced with an actual attacker. Your brain was mush, operating on some basic instinct to survive. You were supposed to be smarter than this, right? 
You risked a glance behind you just in time to see the bat swinging for your head. You fell to the floor to miss it, landing hard on your thigh, and then scrambled across the floor to avoid another swing for your head.
You pulled nearby crates towards you, dollies, and anything else you could pull. One of the crates managed to trip up your attacker. You rushed to your feet, running through the nearest door.
The door banged open against the wall, echoing in the larger chamber. You made it back to the stage and those same lights blinded you as you ran across the stage. Your body felt stiff, achy, as it wanted nothing more than to stop and evaluate.
Stopping meant death. Stopping meant that your attacker had another chance to get you. 
Stopping meant – you were pushed forward and you fell, sliding across the stage. Your chin bounced against the hard floor and you groaned as your teeth clacked painfully. Pain shot through your jaw and you groaned.
A strong hand gripped you by your ponytail and yanked. You screamed as your head was pulled backwards. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be what took you out. This couldn’t, this couldn’t–
You kicked and flailed until your shoe connected with something. There was a harsh, low growl as the grip around your hair lessened enough for you to break free. 
You got to your feet, thigh screaming in pain as you limped back to your dressing room. If nothing else, you could lock the door and call for help. It was your final hope. You weren’t going out like this. You didn’t need anyone.
You limped past the door to the hallway, stopping long enough to bar it momentarily with a cart. It wouldn’t hold the attacker for long, but it’d buy you some time. Fuck. Everything fucking hurt. 
Liquid dripped down your chin. You swiped at it and it came away red. You groaned as you stared at your own blood. Literally at your life leaking from your body. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” you huffed as you limped to your dressing room. 
Metal double doors slammed up against the crate you pushed against the door. You looked back to see an arm flailing through trying to push the crate. Fuck, fuck. Your vision turned blurry as you limped.
It seemed like every step you took only made the dressing room seem further and further back. It looked so far away, like you were never going to find salvation. 
“Someone! Please,” you called out.
You tripped over your shoes and went tumbling forward, landing awkwardly on the same thigh that already cried out with pain. You sniffled as tears ran down your face. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to fucking do.
The crate crashed against the wall as it finally rolled free. “No!” You yelled out, finding enough strength to get back to your feet. So close, so close, so close, so close –
Your name echoed down the hallway as a thunder of boots ran closer to you. You turned around, expecting to see your attacker and that damn bat, but there was no one behind you. Nothing.
You shook violently and swayed to your right, nearly colliding with the wall. You held out your hand to stop your entire body from crashing against it and then used the wall to hold yourself up. 
The storm of boots turned the corner. Terry lead the charge and checked your room first and then swiveled. He called your name. Fuck, you’d never been more happy to see someone. 
“Terry!” You yelled. 
His head snapped in your direction and he crossed the hallway in long, determined strides. You swiped at your tears and leaned on your good leg, trying to make yourself look less pathetic.
Terry slowed as he approached you, holding up his hands. He stopped short when he got a good look at you. 
“Who the fuck did this?” He asked, his chest heaving with harsh breaths. 
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” you said, your voice pitching higher and higher. You began to slide down the wall, all fight leaving you completely. He was here. He was here. He didn’t forget about you.
Terry caught you around your middle, shouldering most of your weight. He reached out and gently cupped your face, moving it from one side to the next. His jaw flexed as his eyes scanned over you, taking in all of your injuries. 
He was joined a second later by members of his team and the studio security. Questions were lobbed at you in rapid succession but your brain had turned cloudy. 
“You’re in shock. She’s in shock, back up!” Terry yelled. The mass of bodies dispersed as Terry half-carried, half-walked with you to your dressing room. 
“I woke up and there was no one–”
“Shh, shh, not yet,” he said. 
Just this once…this one brief moment, you let yourself lean on someone else. Terry handled everyone with all the command of a general, parting the sea of looky-loo’s, likely taking photos of you at your most vulnerable. 
Fuck, this was going to end up on TMZ. You groaned at the thought. Terry helped you into your dressing room and then sat you down on the couch. He produced a jacket from somewhere and draped it across your shoulders.
You shook so badly. You were freezing, sore, and achy. You wanted to crawl up like a little baby and never see the light of day again. 
What was the reason? What was the fucking reason? Who the fuck went through the trouble of all of this? What the living fuck? 
All you ever wanted to do was sing and now…you didn’t even have that. The last thing you wanted to do was quit. The very last thing. Singing was your passion, your very being. It was the reason you woke up day in and day out. Because for three hours or so on stage, for hours in the studio, for every interview and fan interaction, you never felt more alive than when you were singing. 
And someone hated you enough to take it away from you. Your mind spun with crazy scenarios. This had to be a deranged fan. This had to be one of those crazy moms who blamed you for corrupting their youth. This had to be someone.  
Someone tangible. This was the work of one person. A smart, deranged person, but just a person. Someone who bled. Someone you managed to fight off. 
Distantly, Terry’s deep timbre barked orders but you weren’t paying attention. You wanted to sleep. 
“Let them through!” Terry’s voice boomed. You jumped from the sudden explosion, before Mirage and Joya squeezed past Terry.
He stood as a stop gap to the onslaught of activity outside the dressing room. No one was getting through him if he had anything to say about it. But then why did he abandon you earlier? 
Mirage and Joya hugged you gently, careful of your injuries. They treated you with kid gloves and that pissed you off more than anything else. You weren’t a fragile flower. You fucking survived. 
Joya cried, swiping at her tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We were told to leave and then we couldn’t find you and then I remembered that I had your phone and we couldn’t even call you–”
You hummed. Even if you made it to your dressing room, there was no phone in here to help you. If Terry hadn’t come when he did, would you be dead right now? 
You hated that you had to rely on others for your safety. You hated that you were a second away from being permanently removed from this earth and it was only by a stroke of dumb luck that the idiot was scared off. 
Joya and Mirage filled you in on their side of things. They were waiting for you to return when one of the guards told everyone to clear out. There was a bomb threat that had been called in and they needed to sweep the building to get everyone out. 
But why didn’t Terry take you with him? 
Your eyes kept glancing over to him as he coordinated with the police and with his team to secure everything back down. His menacing scowl intimidated those around him as he barked orders and commanded everyone. 
Terry glanced at you from time to time. He would give one nod of his head and you returned it. But his whereabouts were more concerning to you. Over the past year, he had been your constant shadow. Nothing fazed him. Nothing tore him up. So where the fuck did he go? 
Terry re-entered the room and stopped short of you. He dropped down into a squat so that he could look you in the eye. “Feel up to talking?” 
You took a deep breath. “Not really. But I know I need to,” you said. The question you most wanted to ask stuck in your throat. You were to afraid of the answer. 
“You don’t have to. We can tell them to meet you somewhere else,” he said. 
You shook your head. “I’m a big girl. I want to get it over with,” you said.
His chin dipped once as his eyes roamed over you. You must look absolutely horrendous. To his credit, he didn’t say anything as he stood and went to the door. He waved to someone and then two men followed behind Terry into your dressing room.
The room grew stuffier, filled with too many bodies. Crowding your space. You dug your nails into the palms of your hands to ground yourself. You were safe. You survived. 
One of the men introduced himself as Henry Bell, a detective with LAPD who was coordinating with the detective in charge of your stalker case. Because you were hopping through multiple cities, it was hard for any one detective to handle it. 
The other man was Patrick Rollins, head of security for the venue. The men asked you to run through what you remembered and what happened. 
You pulled the coat around your shoulders and Mirage and Joya scooted closer to you but you still felt alone. Abandoned. Cold. Like the heat of their bodies couldn’t penetrate the dense fog around you.
You pushed that from your mind as you told them what happened, starting from when you woke up to when Terry found you. You glanced at him as you spoke, wanting to see his reaction yet still afraid of what his excuse was.
He didn’t owe you a damn thing. But you still needed to know why you weren’t important enough to take with. 
They asked more questions, pushed to see if you recognized anything about your attacker. You kept telling them no, getting more agitated the more they asked. How many other ways could you say that you didn’t recognize the loser? 
“Alright, you should have enough,” Terry said. 
“We still have questions–” Rollins started.
“You have enough for now,” Terry reiterated. Rollins sized up Terry but Terry didn’t blink. Didn’t move. He merely kept his open stance and faced the detective and head of security. 
Rollins pushed boyish blond hair out of his face and then nodded. Detective Bill rocked back on his heels and then shoved his notebook into his coat and clicked a pen. “If you think of anything else, let us know, please,” he said. “And I’m sorry this happened to you.” 
You nodded to them and mumbled your thanks. They left with lingering, heated glances with Terry. He saw them out and then he half closed the door. 
“There’s a few things I need to handle and then we can get out of here.” 
You nodded, staring towards your shoes. Everything fucking hurt. You just wanted to turn into a giant baby. But people like you didn’t get to be coddled. You didn’t get to be human. It shattered the illusion and the fantasy.
You picked at the dry blood on your chin. Angie was going to kill you for messing up your face. You sighed and leaned forward.
“Do you have a headache, babe?” Mirage asked. 
You nodded. “I’ll check with a paramedic. They should be here by now.” Mirage stood up and grabbed Joya by the elbow. She protested for half a minute but you didn’t see what Mirage did to make Joya grow quiet. They left the room, leaving you and Terry alone. The last time you had been left alone together didn’t exactly go as planned. 
“Hey,” Terry said. 
You bit the inside of your cheek and then reluctantly looked at him. “How are you really doing?” 
You took a deep breath. “I’m fine,” you said. 
He crossed the room and then dropped into a squat. “There’s no reward for being a martyr,” he said.
You rolled your eyes but you smirked, refusing to smile at his words. “Everything hurts. But I’ll be okay,” you said. 
He nodded. You held each other’s gazes for a moment, just taking him in. His eyes scanned over you, jaw flexing. You didn’t know what he saw. Probably a terrified mess.
“I should apologize–” he started.
“Where were–” you said at the same time. 
He shook his head. “The bomb threat smelled like bullshit so I left a guard to watch you while I checked it out. I was locked in a closet and by the time I burst free, everyone was gone. I went looking, but the guard left his post. Fresh out the military, the bomb was triggering,” he said. His jaw flexed after he said that. 
“You couldn’t know it was triggering,” you said. Well, that explained that. You weren’t sure what you were looking for. An undying apology while he was on his knees? For him to acknowledge that he never would’ve left you voluntarily? He didn’t owe you anything. No one did. 
“He left his post. He’s fired,” Terry said with venom behind his words. 
You smiled ruefully. “That’s a bit harsh,” you said.
Terry blinked at you and you decided to drop it. Apparently, it was important to him and you didn’t know enough about the nuances about this stuff to comment. 
“We’re going to find this motherfucker,” Terry promised.
“Thank you. For coming when you did,” you said quietly. 
“I’m not leaving your side again,” he said. 
Your teeth clicked shut, drawing attention to your bruised chin. You didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t supposed to leave your side earlier. But he did. You settled on a nod. 
Terry lifted from his squat and then returned to his duties, ordering people around, coordinating with others. 
Everything else moved along in a blur. First, you were checked out by a paramedic while Terry watched him like a hawk. You were treated for the scrape on your chin and your thigh was merely bruised. No sprains, no injuries. The paramedic called you lucky. Yeah, right. 
Terry managed to escort you to a truck that had been brought round back and off to the hotel room. The city nightlife went on without you. Though you did pass by a restaurant in downtown LA that played your latest song with Lord A.K. That sort of made you smile. 
You didn’t remember much about the ride to your hotel room besides one minute you were at the venue and the next you stood inside your hotel doorway while Terry checked around. 
“We’ll switch hotels tomorrow. For now, you can rest.” 
You nodded and went to your room without a word. Though you did stop just outside your bedroom. 
“Terry?” You asked.
“Yes, princess?” He asked.
You huffed with a smirk and then turned to him. “I want to learn how to defend myself. Will you teach me?” You asked. 
It wasn’t enough to survive anymore. It no longer suited you to just wait around for this lunatic to kill you. Clearly, your security wasn’t up to snuff. Clearly, this person could get to you at any point and at any time. The only person who could save you was you.
“If that’s what you want,” Terry said.
“That’s what I want.” 
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Thank you, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2
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munsonfamilyband · 3 days ago
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Slick Sunday post for @lexirosewrites !! I decided to just post it like this since this is probably going to be long. I do promise it has christmas in it but there’s a build up to that. Also very minor TW for child abuse. It’s less than a sentence but still. And also, this is canon up till s4, I don’t really know how different it is, the important thing is that Chrissy lived and Eddie didn’t get eaten as much as he does in canon.
—————
It starts in 1987. It’s late November, Steve has unofficially taken over his house since he hasn’t spoken to his parents in so long he doesn’t even remember. Eddie and Robin are over helping him decorate their tree. They’re all wearing ugly sweaters and pajamas. Steve and Eddie had just started officially courting, while Robin and Chrissy were still dancing around each other. She was in the middle of lamenting her latest failed attempt to ask her out when the front door opens and the Harringtons enter. A fight breaks out pretty quickly and it culminates in a few smashed ornaments, Steve getting slapped, Eddie being literally sat on by Robin to keep him calm, and Steve being told his things needed to be gone by the next day. He’s told that his behavior is not that of a Harrington.
And then they’re gone.
Eddie forces Robin off of him so he can hold Steve, and she goes to call Hopper. He and Steve had been close before Starcourt and since he came back last year they’re reconnected. (Steve calls him dad behind his back, he’s too scared to say it to Hop’s face yet.)
Hop shows up a few minutes later, only to be followed by one very angry Claudia Henderson. She explains that El had called Dustin on the walkie about the phone call she overheard and Claudia left right away.
They both start helping him pack once they know he’s okay and they all go to Hop’s cabin for dinner. While they’re eating Steve casually mentions that he wants to change his name. What he thought would be a casual comment with little fanfare resulted in Claudia baring her teeth at Hop as they argued over who got to bring Steve into their family officially. It would be scarier if Steve wasn’t ready to cry from how loved it makes him feel. He does eventually have to burst their bubble and tell them he wants to be a Buckley. This does get Hop and Claudia to calm down but it also gets Steve tackled off his chair by Robin in a hug.
Fast forward, it’s now the mid 90s. Chrissy and Robin live in the brownstone next to Eddie and Steve in Chicago. Steve and Eddie got married two years ago and earlier that fall they had learned Steve was pregnant. They had so far only told Robin and Chrissy, but that was because Steve was at home while Eddie was at work and he begged Robin to come with him to buy tests. Both Eddie and Steve knew it was time to tell everyone else, since he had just finished the first trimester and with christmas coming up they decided to go with the most cliche announcement possible.
The four of them go back to Hawkins for the holidays. Robin and Chrissy are staying at the Buckley’s and Eddie and Steve are staying at Hop’s cabin.
The first person they tell is Wayne. They have dinner with him for christmas eve and then over dessert exchange presents. Eddie gets a new set of steel toed boots and Steve gets a new coat. Then they hand Wayne his gift and Eddie grabs their camcorder to record his reaction. Inside is a new baseball hat placed upside down with something balled up inside it. Wayne takes the cloth out and flips the hat around, freezing as he reads it, then quickly dropping it and picking up what is now clearly a onesie. In bold letters the onesie says ‘Grandpa’s Fishin’ Buddy’. The hat says ‘Grandpa is my name, Fishing is my game’. Wayne, still gripping the onesie in his hands looks up at them with wet eyes.
“Is this… I’m gonna be a grandpa?”
Eddie can’t stop smiling behind the camera and he turns it slightly to catch Steve as he smiles at Wayne, giving little jazz hands as he says, “surprise.”
Eddie just barely pans back to Wayne to catch him standing up to pull Steve into a hug.
“I’m so happy for you two. Ed, you better put that thing down and get in here.”
———
The next people they tell are the Henderson’s. While Dustin will also be at Hop’s that night, Steve had wanted to be able to see his mom for christmas so for years they had been doing brunch at the Henderson’s before the three guys go to Hop’s and Claudia goes to get some extra hours working at the hospital.
They show up right on time with their gifts and enjoy breakfast before it’s present time. Dustin gets the new Dungeons and Dragons book that had just come out and a new set of dice that looked like the night sky. Steve gets a new cookbook and a scarf. Eddie gets a scarf as well as a new toolbox for work. Then Steve hands over the gift bag to Claudia, but before she opens it he turns to Dustin while Eddie gets the camcorder again.
“Dustin, I need you to promise me, right now, that what you see right now will not be told to anyone today. Got it?”
Dustin rolls his eyes as he responds, “Dude, it’s just a gift-“
“Dustin. Promise me,” Steve interjects.
After they stare at each other for another 30 seconds Dustin gives a dramatic sigh and promises. With that done Steve gives Claudia the okay to open her gift. She takes out the tissue paper and pulls a folded up sweatshirt and a folded canvas bag out. The bag is unfolded first and Claudia gasps, quickly unfolding the sweater and then dropping them both to rush over to hug Steve.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you! My baby!” Claudia is crying as she and Steve hold each other tight, Steve laughing with pure joy. Eddie catches Dustin standing up out of the corner of his eye and refocuses the camera on him, following him as he goes over and picks up the items his mom dropped. The bag says ‘Grandma’s Magic Bag’ and the sweatshirt says ‘World’s Best Grandma’. Dustin stares at them and then he’s shouting.
“You guys are having a pup?!”
Eddie just grins at him over the camera as he asks, “You ready to be Uncle Dustin?” Eddie then barely keeps the camera from breaking as Dustin rushes him in a hug.
———-
Their final present is that evening at Hop’s. Steve is drinking hot cider and curled into Eddie’s side on the couch, Robin right next to him with a hand on his ankle, Chrissy on her other side laughing as Max shares a story about college. Steve looks around the room and sees Dustin already staring at him, practically vibrating in his seat. It’s clear that he’s doing his best to not spill the beans so Steve huffs a laugh and claps to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, present time?”
The next minute or so is a rush of movement as everyone finds a spot and grabs their gifts, Steve holding tight to his gift for Hop. Eddie had El help him hide the camera earlier so she can turn it on without giving anything away.
Presents are passed around and opened. Max gave Steve a new poster for his classroom, and Robin got him the fancy desk organizer set he had been looking at for months. Mike got Eddie new patches for his work coveralls and Will gave them a beautiful painted version of their wedding photo. (Steve does tear up over it but tries to cover up as best he can, stupid pup hormones).
Then Steve stands and hands Hop his bag, giving El a wink as he walks past her and he sees her squint her eyes for a breath before giving him a wink back. Steve settles back in to Eddie’s side and gives Hop the go ahead. He pulls out what is clearly a mug wrapped in tissue paper with a hat stuffed into it. Hop takes the hat out first and looks at it, his face unreadable, before he sets it down with the words hidden. He quickly takes off the tissue paper and reads the mug. His face is still blank but everyone can see his eyes filling with tears as he makes eye contact with Steve.
Eddie gives Steve a little nudge and that’s all it takes for him to get up and go hug his dad, being wrapped up in his arms as Hop cries. After a beat where it’s still silent Hop speaks, looking over at Eddie. “Years ago, I thought I would never get to be a grandpa.” Steve just hugs him tighter and the room around them erupts as everyone starts screaming. Eddie gets dog piled by the boys, excluding Dustin who has collapsed on the floor from the relief of not having to hide that anymore. Steve feels two people wrap around him from behind and glancing at their arms he sees that it’s El and Max, both hugging him. When everyone has calmed more Steve goes back to sit with Eddie, who can now place his hand on Steve’s stomach. Hop sits down and finally shows everyone his gifts. The mug has a sheriff’s badge and it says ‘Chief Gramps’ and the hat says ‘Professional Grandpop’. Hop puts it on his head that night and refuses to take it off.
———————
Et viola. Also, this is Wayne’s hat because I love it so much:
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