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maretinelli · 2 days ago

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A GREAT MOTHER TO BE

Oscar Piastri X Dentist!fem!reader

Summary: Y/n Piastri has a pediatric dentist office and this leads to many fun conversations with the children. Oscar overhears one of the genuine conversations and is sure that she will be a great mother in a few months.

Words: 1.7K+

Warnings: Cute, mention of Y/n's work, cute patients, Y/n's pregnancy, Husband and wife, and again, so cute

Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

Y/n always said her job was an adventure. Each child who entered her office brought a unique personality and stories that made them laugh, reflect and, often, be enchanted.

As a pediatric dentist, she knew it wasn't just about caring for children's teeth, but also about creating a safe and welcoming environment for little ones to feel comfortable.

At the end of each day, it was almost a ritual for her to come home and tell stories to Oscar, who listened attentively while caressing his wife's belly, which was already rounded by four months of pregnancy.

He loved listening to her describe the children's antics, laughing at their imitations or exaggerated expressions as he recounted how the unlikely conversations between her and her patients took place.

At the moment, Y/n was working another day at the office. Y/n gently adjusted her stool and leaned towards her little patient, a four-year-old girl named Emily. With golden curls tied with a blue ribbon, Emily was the definition of curiosity.

"Okay, Emily, I'm going to use this little mirror here to take a look at your teeth, okay?" Y/n said with a reassuring smile, turning the small dental mirror in her hand.

Emily nodded quietly, but as soon as Y/n took the mirror out of her mouth, the inevitable question came.

"Why is he so small?"

Y/n chuckled softly, keeping her tone calm and playful. "Because I need it to fit in your little mouth. If it were bigger, you wouldn't be able to see everything properly, right?"

"Ah... so he's like a princess mirror?" Emily concluded, her eyes shining.

"Exactly!" Y/n replied, finding the comparison amusing. "And with it, I can see all the hidden parts of your teeth castle." Y/n smiled at the girl and turned her amused gaze to Emily's mother, who was watching the procedure. "She's so sweet!" Y/n said smiling.

Emily's mother laughs in agreement. "And very curious, you see."

Satisfied with the explanation, Emily opened her mouth again. Y/n picked up an instrument to check for a small cavity, but as soon as she took it out, another question popped up.

"What is that? A paintbrush?"

"It's an instrument that helps me clean places where the brush can't reach" Y/n explained. "It's like a magic broom to keep everything clean."

"My mom will want one of these!" Emily responded excitedly, eliciting a laugh from Yin and her mother who was sitting in an armchair at the back of the office.

Outside, Oscar had parked his car in the parking lot and entered his wife's office. He smiles at the receptionist and she briefly says that Y/n was answering. Already knowing that he was her boss's husband.

Oscar smiles in agreement. "Oh sure, I was a little early, just..." He looks at his watch and smiles. "We have an appointment to see our baby in an hour."

The receptionist smiles and nods. And then the pilot walks down the hallway until he reaches the waiting room, which was in front of Y/n's office.

The environment was so colorful and full of life from the children passing by that Oscar felt more and more anxious to have his baby in his arms.

With the door to her office half open, Oscar could hear his wife talking calmly to the child she was treating, while the little one laughed and asked more questions about the dental equipment she used.

He couldn't stop smiling when he heard how Y/n handled the little girl with so much patience and affection, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As Y/n explained each step to Emily, Oscar found himself thinking about what it would be like when it was their baby there, asking the same curious questions and seeking answers with the same sweetness.

Y/n adjusted the instruments on the tray beside her while little Emily lay there, waiting patiently.

"We're almost done, princess" Y/n said with a warm smile, standing up to get more gauze from the nearby cabinet. As she stood up, she instinctively placed a hand under her belly, the gesture so natural that she didn't even notice.

Emily, however, widened her eyes at the movement and pointed, with an innocent and curious smile.

"Ah, you have a baby with you!"

Y/n chuckled, turning to the little girl as she picked up the gauze. "Yes, I have a baby here with me."

"Do you take him everywhere?" Emily asked naively, her eyes shining with curiosity.

Y/n and the girl's mother laughed at the comment.

"Yes, I will. But only for nine months," Y/n replied, sitting back down in the chair next to the little girl. "Actually, after I'm done here with you, I also have an appointment to see how he's doing."

Emily opened her mouth, eager for Y/n to continue the procedure, but she couldn't hold back the questions. As soon as Y/n finished, Emily leaned forward in her chair and asked excitedly.

"And what is his name? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Y/n arranged the instruments and smiled. "My husband and I haven't decided on a name yet, but it's a little boy."

Emily smiled even wider. Y/n helped her down from the chair and the little girl ran to her mother. Before leaving, Y/n took out a 'certificate of courage' and a shiny star pin and handed them to Emily.

"There you go, you were a very brave patient today!" Y/n said, handing over the items.

Emily looked at the brooch and certificate as if they were treasures and, before leaving with her mother, she turned to Y/n with an unexpected request.

"Could... could you bring a picture of the baby for me to see at my next appointment?"

Y/n chuckled softly, bending down to her level. "Of course. Next time, I'll bring a picture of my boy for you to see. But only if you promise me you'll brush your teeth properly, okay?"

Emily smiled excitedly and nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, Oscar, who was still watching everything from the half-open door, felt his heart tighten. He already knew that Y/n was special, but seeing her like this, so natural, so affectionate with the children, only reinforced how lucky he was to have her.

Y/n gave him a gentle smile as she opened the office door, before turning to Emily's mother.

"If you can avoid sweets for now and help her brush her teeth after meals, I believe she won't have any more pain. We look forward to seeing you next week."

Emily's mother thanked her, and the little girl gave Y/n a tight hug before running out of the office, she smiled excitedly and ran in front of her mother, stopping at the reception to show the brooch to the receptionist.

Oscar then approached his wife, smiling as she watched the girl walk away. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

"How are you, love?"

Y/n sighed, a calm smile on her lips.

"I'm fine, I'm just going to pack up before we go to the appointment."

Oscar walked her back to the office, watching her as she organized the instruments. He knew their lives would change completely in the coming months, but at that moment, he knew for sure that Y/n would be an incredible mother.

"You have a gift, you know?"

"Why?" Y/n asked curiously as she sanitized the instruments.

"The way you deal with these children. The patience, the calm manner... You can see how safe they feel with you."

Y/n blushed slightly. "Ah, it's work, Osc. We adapt."

Oscar shook his head, approaching his wife. "No, it's you. And I have no doubt: in a few months, you're going to be an incredible mother."

His words took her by surprise, and Y/n felt her eyes well up. She smiled, moving closer to him and placing a hand on her belly.

"I hope you're right, because I'm counting on your help, Mr. Piastri."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Always. Now let's go see how daddy's little boy is doing." He placed a hand on her back as he guided her to the office door.

She laughs. "No, he's definitely a mommy's boy. Isn't he, son?" She runs her hands over her belly and the baby moves. "Look, he moved. That means he agrees with me."

Oscar chuckled, bending down slightly to get closer to Y/n's belly. He gently ran his hand over the spot where the baby had moved.

"Little guy, listen to Daddy. You're my partner, right? You're going to help me with Mommy when she starts saying she's the boss around here."

Y/n gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Do you really think he'll take your side?"

Oscar looked up at her, a mischievous smile on his face. "I'm sure. We're already a team!"

"Of course they are..." Y/n replied, amused, running her hand through her husband's hair. "Until he's born, then he'll understand that, deep down, he's a mommy's little boy."

"We'll see!" Oscar teased and laced his fingers through hers as they walked down the hallway. "But in the meantime, let's see how our little champion is doing."

"Little champion?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Are you putting pressure on him already, Piastri?"

Oscar made an innocent gesture with his hands. "Not at all. I'm just saying that if he's half as good as you, he's already a champion."

Y/n stopped for a moment in the hallway, looking at him with a look full of tenderness. She leaned in and gave him a brief but meaningful kiss on the lips.

"You know how to make me emotional, you know?"

He smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "It's easy, you're everything to me."

And with that, Oscar opened the office door and led her to the car, as they laughed together about who the baby would choose as his favorite in the future.

That moment, so simple, yet so full of love and companionship, reinforced what Y/n already knew: They were not just a couple, they were a team, ready to face any challenge while anxiously awaiting the arrival of the baby that was already so loved.

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #lovers #imagines #marriage #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #fem reader #imagines oscar piastri #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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no-144444 · 2 days ago

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soft launching (hard) -d.riccardo

summary: you and daniel decide it's time the world know about you

pairing: daniel riccardo x fem! illman! mechanic! reader

(for context, kym illman is an f1 photographer from australia)

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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were livid. You wanted to scream, to sob, to shout, everything. It wasn’t fair. You were exhausted, hours and hours of practice, hours and hours of expertise, and yet, Daniel had just crashed the car into the wall. You were usually quite good at turning off the ‘mechanic’ side of you to turn into the ‘girlfriend’ but it was hard today. You’d worked overnight. You’d worked until you were practically falling asleep at the side of the car.

And he crashed it. Again.

You knew it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault.

You kept repeating that in your head. The looks on the faces of the other mechanics were… unwelcoming to say the least. You didn’t want Daniel to see them, or you. You walked on, ready to hide in the bathroom until Daniel got into his room.

Then he saw you. Daniel had a certain way he liked to calm down after races. Shower, relax in bed for an hour with you, then back to the hotel for some food.

You couldn’t do it. You knew you’d blow up on him. You knew you’d freak out.

“Baby-” he started, running up to you and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart stopped. ‘Mechanic’ you, was gone. Replaced whole-heartedly by the need to comfort him and make sure he was alright. Yes, you still felt bad for the other mechanics and yourself, thinking about how you’d have to put it all back together in Milton Keynes. But Daniel needed you.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, holding him close. “You’re alright baby.”

He nodded, his eyes wet with tears. He knew if he’d talk he’d break.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, pulling him into his driver’s room. He shook his head. “Did you get checked out?”

He nodded. You sat him down on the bed.

“It’s alright darling,” you whispered. “It’s Lance’s fucking fault anyway-”

“I don’t want to lose you if I lose this,” he responded bluntly, his hazel eyes filled with tears. “I know I can be better, I just… it feels like a classic case of old dog, new tricks, and I just can’t get the hang of it. If I could just get one shot at the RedBull seat, I know I could do it. I just… it feels like shit battling it out at the back for one point. I used to stand at the top of podiums, and now I’m… this,” he sighed, discouraged.

“You won’t lose me,” you assured him, running your hands through his hair and he leaned his head against your stomach. He loved sitting like this, his head on your stomach as you stood in front of him. “I’m not going to let you go, don’t ever worry about that.”

“I do,” he admitted.

“Then talk to me about it,” you told him, pulling his chin up so he had to look at you. “I am here for you no matter what. Always and forever, Dan.”

“You swear?” he asked.

"I swear."

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ You were there when he got the call. He sobbed for hours. You were both there, just laying in your bed, holding him as he cried. For the first week, it was rough. He barely got up. You helped him. You made him food, made him get up and walk, made him shower. He was grateful to have you there, because he didn’t know what he would’ve done without you. He probably would’ve sulked for months. But you, you brought him out, brought him home, brought him to see Josh and Hailee. You even bought him a hat (his new favourite) that says ‘retired!’. You made him happy again. Yes, there were still down days, and yes, he still looked at his trophies longingly. But he had other things in mind too. He wondered a lot about how you’d look in a wedding dress, or how you’d both look with a baby in your arms. He was finally thinking about the future for once, and he felt like slowing down, for the first time in his life, was just as exciting as going fast.

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Being in F1 when Danny wasn't was hard. He was your boyfriend, and it meant you didn't get to see him all the time anymore. You still adored your job, so you weren't going to quit, just... step back a bit. The season came to an end, you were 7th in the constructors, and off you went skiing with half the grid.

The funny thing about the fact that you were a mechanic, was the fact that your father was one of the main photographers in F1. You'd picked up that skill from him, and you usually jsut took photos of your friends, but to cut costs RedBull had asked you to be their on-track photographer as well, and you'd gained quite the reputation.

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ynillman

liked by pierregasly, jackdoohan, landonorris and 4,987,736 others

ynillman: 2024 is over and done with! I cannot wait to have a regular sleep schedule for three months!

comments

kymillman legendary photos this year! see you at christmas, and enjoy skiing! liked by yourusername

landonorris PLZZ LET US BORROW YOU NEXT YEAR -> ynillman maybe... but even I can't make papaya look good 🤷

lancestroll time to hit the slopes! -> ynillman bro i broke my fucking arm last time wtf -> lancestroll let's hope you break both of them this time! maybe then you won't capture another video of me falling!

oscrapiastri thank u for your service, lily is very happy with our couples photos! -> ynillman anything for lily! so happy for the two of you! -> user89 did we miss something...? ->user829: oscar did say he'd rather get married than get a tattoo...

user88: when's the next yt video queen??? -> ynillman tomorrow!

nicohulkenberg amazing work this year!

olliebearman thanks for the great photos this year!

jackdoohan thank you for making me not chop all my hair off again! (oh, and the photos were cool as well ig) liked by ynillman

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ynillman

liked by pierregasy, charlesleclerc, danielriccardo, and 8,098,364 others

ynillman didn't break an arm this year, only my ego!

comments

user8 lance serving boyfriend in this so hard

user99 hear me out, lance and y/n... -> user7 yes officer, it's this one -> user882 me when i'm clinically insane -> lancestroll prolly not.... -> ynillman please guys I have some standards

oscarpiastri i swear i was so surprised you didn't kill yourself

landonorris you're genuinely a danger to society on a snowboard -> ynillman because of my skills? -> landonorris because you can't fucking use one. I have the bruises to prove it

user83 lando, lance, oscar, and y/n????? what the fuck is this multiverse of madness

user0 still serving with the photos OMG QUEEN

estebanocon remind me to never go skiing with you again -> user82 estie bestie!!!!!!

mickschumacher who tf let her out of her cage? -> jackdoohan you did. you gave her the vodka.

user9: jack, mick, esteban, lance, lando, oscar, and yn? who else??? -> charlesleclerc i was there too -> alexalbon same -> carlosainz same -> francocolapinto me too! -> danielriccardo same... -> user9: and all of their wags were there too! what a cool friend group!

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lilymunihe

liked by alexalbon, ynillman, alexandrastmleux and 890,876 others

lilymunihe guess who took these photos? @.ynillman

comments

landonorris that's actually a normal sized bear in Alex's hands -> alexalbon so you're calling me tall? thanks??? -> landonorris fuck no, i meant a regular sized teddy bear

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ynillman

liked by robertirwin, pierregasly, francocolapinto and 9,987,625 others

ynillman new video out with robbie! (my sleep schedule is still fucked someone save me) (i love australia(ns))

comments

danielriccardo what a group of legends -> ynillman aka you're jealous i didn't invite you? -> user8239 y/ndaniel CRUMBS !!!!!

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danielriccardo

liked by ynillman, francocolapinto, fernandoalonso and 987,253 others

danielriccardo she's looking beautiful these days. missed home :)

comments

user8240 yall know who else is in australia this week... -> user247 i am picking up what you're putting down... delusion!

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danielriccardo

caption: you think she likes the bay?

dms

landornorris SOFT LAUNCH?

oscarpiastri taking the soft launch approach?

alexalbon BOO HARD LAUNCH YOU'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOREVER

lewishamilton mate if you don't hard launch her i'll do it wtf is this bullshit

yukistunoda bro... try harder.

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Daniel had decided something, which was almost always a dangerous idea. It was the off-season, you were in Australia to see the sights, see family, and catch some waves. He'd made his mind up about something days ago, and you'd been trying to figure out what, but he wouldn't budge. He was secretive and giddy, and slightly more childish than usual, so naturally, you started to panic.

That all changed when he brought you down to the beach. There were candles set up everywhere, he was smiling, and you were crying already.

"Y/n, you have made me the happiest man in the past four years," he smiled, despite the way his voice cracked with emotion. "You've been with me through everything. You've held me on the nights I've been my weakest, and championed me on the days I've been my best. I never asked you to love me, but you do it like it's breathing. You make the ups and downs feel like goosebumps on my arm, instead of mountainous waves. You make me smile. You make me laugh. You make me feel so fucking stupid when you start explaining something to do with engineering, and I realise I couldn't do that. The way you dedicate yourself to things is incredible. The way you treat others with kindness and respect even when they don't deserve it, is commendable. I love you with every bone, every nerve, and every cell in my body. I love everything about you, inside and out. I can't wait to get to sit in a front porch someday when we're old and wrinkly, and still get to tell people that you're my wife. So, Y/n, will you marry me?"

You nodded through tears,. pulling him up off one knee and kissing him harshly, only pulling back to look at the ring.

"I love you too," you smiled through tears. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much more," he smiled, elated that you'd said yes. "You saved me."

And that was that. You were were engaged.

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danielriccardo

liked by landonorris, ynillman, liamlawson, and 893,273 others

danielriccardo she was there for me through thick and thin, and she still likes me years later. you swore you wouldn't get rid of me, so i'm here to stay! love you more than anything, my love, my life, my (future) wife!

comments

landonorris HARD LAUNCH

robertirwin So happy for you guys!

oscarpiastri must come and visit you two oldies

maxverstappen man had been stolen... kidding! (not) Very happy for you two! (not).

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navigation for my blog :)

redbull and vcarb masterlist

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onceinablueberrymoon · 2 days ago

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made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.”

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look.

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself.

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips.

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver.

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver.

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face.

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too!

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?”

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek.

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded.

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.”

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

#the salesman x reader #the recruiter x reader #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game x you #the salesman #the recruiter #squid game fanfic #gong yoo x reader #reader insert #the recruiter squid game #the salesman fluff #the salesman x you #pregnant reader

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hoonieyun · 2 days ago

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this is where it ends ⋆˙⟡♡

days of dodging your boyfriend after your fight finally lead you to the answer you've been looking for (read part one here) heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: aaaaangsttttt!!! angst!! heartbreak.. OOF warnings: toxic relationship, bad coping mechanisms, profanity, mentions of drinking as an addiction, gaslighting, arguing, 18+

hoonieyun notes: WHEW... lowkey was like.. damn this shit is TOO angsty so sorry in advance but im obsessed with angst lately and watching xo kitty did not help because that show was a rollercoaster LMAO anyways i hope you guys enjoy this sad piece of work because i have more coming with my vday anthology and exes reunited series plus! i've just announced my 1k follower special!

𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @heartheejake @cloud-lyy @heeweenie @jakesimfromstatefarm @lovelymelon @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@chvconn3 @heeheeyeoiizz01 @pjselee @malloryaloisia @alienqbrain @jooniesbears-blog @haeeeeefer @firstclassjaylee

heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ

it had been 3 days since you left heeseung standing in your apartment, dumbfounded and unsure of where you were. you really had hoped he would run after you that night but he didn’t and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin for you.

were you ready to throw away your relationship all because of this?

was it worth it to lose the person you love?

you had pondered on so many questions since that night and each question felt like you were guilt tripping yourself into thinking that your own feelings weren’t valid, like you were trying to convince yourself that you were overreacting and that heeseung was right.

why were you being so annoying?

but these questions only led to more questions instead of answers.

were you being annoying or were you just tired of not being heard?

if you hadn’t been the one to constantly ask him to clean up after himself would he have done it on his own?

why were you trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself back into his arms when you truly knew deep down the answer you were looking for…

you just weren’t ready to come to terms with it.

so here you were, hurriedly packing what you could before heeseung could come home. and just to your luck, he had arrived much earlier than you anticipated. “yn?” heeseungs says, shock painted across his face as he sees you standing in the hallway with a box of your things.

“wh- what are you doing?” he asks, eyes falling on the box in your hands.

both of you knew the answer to that.

“i think- i can’t do this anymore, hee…

i did a lot of thinking these past fews days and everything i thought of i found myself trying to make excuses for you. trying to figure out why i was acting this way and why i was going out of my way to make it seem like i was the one causing these issues and stressing myself out and then i realized…

why was i trying to compromise my own happiness and well being for someone who didn’t care about me?

for someone who couldn’t simply understand where i was coming from and couldn’t even listen to me when all i would ask for was something so easy as to clean up after yourself.

heeseung, you’re grown and so am i and i’m done acting like your words and actions don’t hurt solely for the fact that i don’t want to lose you.

we’re over.” your eyes had tears pooling in them but you refused to let them fall in front of heeseung.

“what?” heeseung asks, slipping his shoes off and running over to you in an attempt to stop you, reaching for the box but you move out of the way before he can.

“yn.. can we please talk about this? don’t jump to conclusions just because you’re hurt. this isn’t what you want, what about us?

are you willing to throw us away because of some petty fight?” and that’s when you knew that you and heeseung weren’t on the same page… at all.

“that’s what you have to say?” and at this point you had lost the fight to stop the tears from falling.

“you haven’t even apologized? and now you’re here trying to gaslight me into thinking that what i’m feeling is just the result of a petty fight?

hee, you never listen to me. you dismissed my feelings and all i asked was you clean up our bedroom because i was tired. i’m sorry but if that was such a hard task then i don’t know what to tell you.

i’m not jumping to conclusions. heeseung, we’re done.” you say, pushing passed him so you could leave and move on. start new and heal from this pain.

“really? you’re just going to walk away?” heeseung asks, still refusing to take accountability for his actions.

“i’m not walking away… you pushed me away.”

“bye, heeseung.”

jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ

jay hadn’t been able to pick up a bottle of alcohol since that night… 5 months ago. he hadn’t realized he developed a bad habit of drinking all because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his loving girlfriend, the one who took care of him, who loved him, who fought for him to make things right, was slowly becoming someone he didn’t love anymore.

so why was it that now that you two were broken up, he wants nothing more to get back together with you?

he thought about the day you finally came back. after you ran out in the middle of the night jay didn’t see you for a whole week and by the end of that week, you would be gone for good.

“is this what you really want?” jay had asked you right before you left.

“its not what i want… but it doesn’t seem like what i want would be something that could ever happen if i stayed with you.

you hurt me, jay. all i ever did was care for you and love you and it made me realize i hadn’t felt care or love from you for a while now.

i truly hope that you get help for your drinking problem but i’m sorry i’m not going to be the one to fix it for you.” and with that you were gone. out of jay’s life and although you had said that you weren’t going to be the one to fix his drinking problem, in a lot of ways; you did fix it.

he hadn’t drank since that night and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t drink ever again and 5 months after, he’s kept that promise.

jay wished that he did keep his promise to you.

when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he had promised to hold your heart close to his and to never break it. only to find himself distancing his heart from yours and eventually shattering it into millions of pieces when you got into a fight that night.

but he was now forced to face all of this all over again as you stood in front of him, mirroring the same shocked face he had as the two of you run into each other at a mutual friends party.

you hadn’t seen jay since that night and although your heart ached for him, you had to choose yourself. you couldn’t stand being with someone who saw you as overbearing when all you did was care for and love them.

you truly had been worried about jay ever since his drinking habits had gone worse and maybe you could’ve gone about it a better way and not made him feel attacked for his actions but he didn’t have the same consideration for you so why should you do the same… right?

“h-hi.. yn. you look good.” jay stutters.

“you do too, um.. i–” you begin to say but he cuts you off. “look, i know we didn’t end on the right foot and these past five months have been hard for me so i could only imagine how hard they’ve been on you.

i wasn’t right to treat you that way and i’m sorry i’m only realizing it now. i miss you so much and i spend countless nights thinking about you. reminiscing on the good times and how i let myself ruin all of it.

i’m sorry, yn.” it all comes out like word vomit and quite frankly, you weren’t prepared to hear any of it. you also hadn’t expected him to have this much of grasp on your relationship five months after, but it was all too late.

“i’m sorry too, jay– but i can’t keep doing this. i think you need to move on. i know i will…” you muttered.

“for what it’s worth… you did help me… i’m five months sober.” he confesses and you give him a tight lipped smile.

“take care of yourself, ok?” you say before turning around to leave and although jay wished that he could’ve said all of this five months sooner in hopes that it would’ve fixed your relationship, he respects your wishes and just hopes that the next guy who comes around would love you the way you deserved to be loved.

jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ

in the time you’ve dated jake or quite frankly, anyone, they had never raised their voice and spoke to you in that way. jake seemed so angry and upset that it scared you. you knew that jake would never hurt you but his words pierced your heart in ways that caused you pain you had never felt before, especially from someone you love and was supposed to love you.

it always hurts more when it comes from someone you love right?

you had come home the next day and found jake sleeping on the couch, hugging the plushy that he often said looked like you.

you’d be lying if you said that seeing him like this didn’t make your heart hurt… but it did.

it seemed like jake had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

the feeling of being unwanted, unloved, undesirable, and not enough for someone who is supposed to love you.

but if jake had loved you he wouldn’t have raised his voice at you.. let alone speak to you in that tone and used language that was meant to hurt someone.

“yn? is that you?” he says, stretching on the couch and rubbing his eyes, causing you to snap out of it. you quickly wipe away the tears that had miraculously appeared. “um, yeah. i just came to grab some things. you can go back to sleeping..” you explained as you made your way to your shared bedroom.

“baby? can we talk?” jake says, peering into the room as he sees you packing your things inside of duffel bag. “wait- what are you packing? are you leaving? baby, please don’t do this, can we talk this out?” he was now on his knees in front of you, clutching onto your sweater while he begged.

“jake, get up.” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“its just for a few days, i need time to myself- i need to think, ok?” you said and even now, even when you’re still hurting because of him from the night before, you were here trying to comfort him.

jake stands up with a sniffle and he attempts to link your hands together but you pull away to continue packing your bag. “when are we going to talk about this? i love you, i don’t want you to leave… please stay.” he continues to beg and although its working, you needed to stay strong.

“if you loved me you wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. people who love each other don’t speak to people they love that way.

jake, you hurt me… and i don’t know what i did to deserve that treatment but i just wanted help. i spent all day running errands despite feeling like shit because of my period and you dismissed my feelings like it was nothing.

that blanket meant so much to me, you knew that it was from my late grandmother yet you tossed it aside for your own accord because you didn’t have the same care for me and the things i love the way i do for you.” you said with a huff as you stuffed the last of your things into the bag.

“when will you come back?” was all jake asked and all you could muster up was a shrug, because you weren’t entirely sure when you would be back.

needless to say, a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months and at some point you found yourself not having the need to come back.

you wished you could get the closure you wanted from jake and you were sure he also wanted that, but walking away was something you needed to do. even if it was just one instance where jake spoke to you that way, it was enough for you to leave because you weren’t going to allow yourself to be with someone who found it in themselves to speak that way to someone they supposedly loved.

not then, not now, and not ever.

sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ

sunghoon hadn’t known what he was doing, it was like his body was moving before his brain could think because he was running back inside and grabbing his car keys to drive after you.

he wasn’t sure where you were headed off to but he had guessed that you were most likely going to stay with your mom. you were always close with your mom and she often was the person you went to when you were having troubles if you didn’t go to sunghoon.

sunghoon knew he fucked up and he shouldn’t have treated you that way let alone let some strangers treat you that way. he didn’t know what let him get to the point where he was allowing these men to speak about you, the girl that he loved, in a way that made you feel small. demeaning and degrading you in a way that he hadn’t realized and even if he did, he chose to look away instead of defend you all because he was filled with the greed of wanting this promotion.

was it even worth it anymore if it meant losing you?

sunghoon was speeding at this point and although you hadn’t left much before he had went to follow you, there was no one else in the streets as he sped through to catch up to you.

in a short amount of time, he’s turning into the street that your mom lives on and sure enough, he sees you just about to walk up to the front door. he hapazardly parks the car on the side of the street and stumbles out of his car to get to you.

“yn, please. wait, lets talk about this!” he says and you’re startled at sunghoon suddenly appearing and you wipe the tears from your face and blink a few times to make sure he was actually there.

“hoon? what are you doing here?” you ask, stepping down the small stairway that led to your mom’s home. “i couldn’t just let you leave like that, we need to talk-

look i’m sorry for the way i treated you and even more sorry that i let them treat you that way. i love you so much and i couldn’t imagine the amount of hurt i caused you for making it seem like i was okay with letting them say those things about you all because i wanted that promotion so damn bad.

i was selfish and greedy but those are the things that make me want you more. i don’t want you to leave and walk away from me because i am selfish and greedy and i want you all to myself.

i’m sorry that i didn’t defend you and i made you feel small…” he says and at this point sunghoon is crying. his voice breaks with every other word and you truly hadn’t seen sunghoon in this much distress, ever.

you didn’t know how to respond but the longer you looked into sunghoon’s bloodshot eyes, the more confused you became.

you could tell sunghoon was sincere but you didn’t think this was something that could be fixed right then and there. your sensitivity was always something you struggled with and sunghoon knew that yet he brushed off your feelings like it was nothing.

“you shouldn’t have driven out all this way…

because although i appreciate your apology i don’t know that i’m in the right place to accept it or to forgive you.

sunghoon you hurt me and you let others hurt me.

i’m selfish too, i want you all to myself too and i wouldn’t have stayed so long if i didn’t love you and want to be with you… but-

i don’t know if i can be with someone that doesn’t see me in the way i deserve.

and i certainly know i don’t deserve any of that.” both of your attention is drawn to the sound of the front door as it opens, revealing your mother in her nightwear and arms crossed; a displeased expression on her face.

“i’ll reach out to you when i’m ready.” you say and without another word you’re retreating into your mom’s home, hiding away from sunghoon and preparing yourself to have to face the inevitable one day.

sunghoon on the other hand, drags himself to his car, head hanging low as he has to come to terms that his own selfishness and greed for the one he loved was also what caused him to lose the love of his life.

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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captain-huggy-bear · 1 day ago

Text

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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andvys · 1 day ago

Text

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ Prologue

⭐︎ When the sun hits, she’ll be waiting

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, post apocalypse, grumpy!steve x sunshine!reader, gore, blood, mean!steve

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Another patrol. Patrols he's been doing for a whole year, and nothing ever changes. Maybe he had to kill one demodog, or demobat, but overall, it was the same walk, the same stance, the same weariness… only this time, something new appeared in his walk.

Word count: 4.8k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I are back with another Steve series, I hope you're as excited as I am, you got a lot of angst, fluff and smut coming your way! And also, shoutout to @ghost-proofbaby who picked the title for this story, thank you my love

series masterlist

☀︎

It was funny.

He had watched apocalypse movies. He had seen the terrible visual effects done with strawberry syrup, the gelatin that exploded pretending to be brains and flesh, the people becoming zombies and doing loud and stupid moans in their chase. He knew the apocalypse would never look like that, but he also never believed he would live in something very much alike, and not at all a movie.

They had not defeated Vecna. They have killed him, but defeated? No. He is gone but he left behind the world he created, he reached his goal and got what he wanted, something that Steve and the others were very blind to at first, they watched him die; they burned his body to make sure that he was gone for good. They thought they won, but it was a false victory, one that gave them all the opportunity to recover, opportunities that included them trying to become a town again, yet after three months of what they thought was safe, the first demogorgon crawled out of the big gates that were created. Killed instantly. Then another. Then twenty. Then a hundred. Demogorgons, demobats, demodogs, and other upside down creatures... and this time, they came with infectious venom.

Venom that turned people into bloodthirsty, flesh eating monsters with nothing but death in their eyes, people turned into monsters who became part of Vecna’s army, crawling into homes and houses, spreading way too quickly and unable to be stopped from claiming not only the town but all of the country and soon the whole globe.

They noticed when it was already too late, when the world was already too far gone and the lives of many were lost and claimed by darkness.

When the realization started sinking in and he saw, felt the panic, the fear, the desperation, the dread and death, he felt like he was going to lose himself, knowing that the world he once knew was gone and never to be brought back again, that it was all lost and someday to be forgotten but a feeling he hadn’t noticed yet was acceptance.

Because if anyone knew how to adapt, then it was him. Unlike many others, he had no home that he lost, he never had one in the first place. His parents' house was only ever a big lonely space that he never found comfort in until his friends filled that space with warmth and laughter, laughter that still echoes in his ears whenever he thinks of simpler times, laughter that he thinks he will never hear again.

The house is now even emptier and colder than before, claimed by vines, dust and spider webs, just like most of the houses in Hawkins are… or the rest of the world. He passed familiar houses before, Dustin’s home and Lucas’s, he only glanced at them, not bearing to look longer, not wanting to feel, not wanting to look back at what he lost.

The gun in his hand feels light, nothing like it used to feel the first few times he had to hold one or use one. His footsteps are barely audible as he walks through the empty cul-de-sac, eyes focused and eyebrows furrowed, he is on high alert, he always is, even when he doesn’t have to.

He feels relaxed, despite the circumstances, despite the death that could be waiting around any corner, he feels relaxed. He walks past the abandoned cars and houses, watching out for any creature that could come crawling out from any hole. A lone plushie lies on the ground, dirty and splattered with blood – a sight that would have made him sick a year ago, thinking about whose blood it could’ve been, now makes him feel indifference. He had seen so many ugly, disturbing things, nothing truly fazes him anymore, it’s awful and sometimes he wonders if he is still a good person or if the horrors of this world have turned him into a monster as well, if the darkness had claimed him too like it had claimed the sick people. Sometimes he feels pain, sometimes he feels nothing but today he feels a sliver of sadness, one that he swallows down as quickly as it comes, he can’t stand it.

The sun shines down on him but he barely feels the warmth even though it’s there, the light of it illuminates the empty road ahead of him, the chaos left behind, the rotten grass and the dead flowers, they don’t grow anymore, the birds don’t sing anymore, he wonders if there are even any left in this world, most have died, just like the ones he used to see every day, they have died.

A soft huff falls from his lips when he notices that the laces on his boots have come undone, he stops walking and looks around, making sure that nothing and nobody will creep up on him the moment he kneels down, he would be surprised if something like that still happened around here though. Hawkins is empty of people and monsters, it was only the doorway for them to get through to get to the rest of the world, this place is just as abandoned as the houses are.

The houses where his friends used to live. Where Lucas used to live. Dustin. The Wheelers. The Byers. That home that was lived in by other people last year. His house. Those remained intact, yet empty and filled with vines, darkness, dust of the memories from those who once lived in there. The only place that got swallowed whole was Forest Hills trailer park. Where Max used to live. Where Eddie used to live.

Placing the gun in his holster, he kneels down and reaches for the undone laces, wasting no second to tie them. His ears pick up on any sound, on the wind that howls through the bushes and the trees, through the broken windows, the bells that still hang from the ceilings on the empty porches. His eyes never stay focused on only the task before him, he is always ready to fight, to kill but it’s been a while since he had to use his gun or a machete, or even his bat.

But today the hairs on his neck stand up for the first time in a while. Goosebumps arise on his skin and he feels it, a presence behind him. Steve swallows harshly, not knowing what to expect the moment he turns around, a demogorgon, a demodog or a sick one. He ties the knot on his boot, tightly.

Unlike a few months before, he no longer feels fear whenever he is about to stare evil in it’s eyes, he no longer dreads it, he no longer feels his heart skipping or racing, he feels nothing anymore.

He reaches for his gun and jumps to his feet, raising his arm and the gun, turning on his heel and aiming at the presence that lingered behind him, the one that would have normally lunged at him by now but it’s not a creature staring back at him nor is it a sick person, a sick person wouldn’t raise her arms up in surrender or step back in fear.

“Hang on! I’m not bitten! I’m alive, I’m still alive!” Your voice is panicked, your eyes are too.

Steve’s jaw is clenched, his eyes move up and down your body, taking in the state of your clothes first, no holes or tears in them, they are clean – clean for the end of the world. Your hair is tied, hanging down your shoulders in two braids, there are knives tucked into your belt and a gun in your thigh holster that you have no intent to reach for. You don’t look like a threat but Steve learned to not be deceived by appearances only. He eyes your exposed skin, where your flannel had slipped down your shoulder, exposing a wound, not a bite, not a scratch, only a cut that he can’t help but wonder how it got there or why.

“Turning takes days,” Steve murmurs as he tears his gaze away from you for a second to scan the area around you two, who knows what you had dragged here or who.

“I can sing Madonna for you?”

He rolls his eyes as he looks back at you, for someone armed with knives and a glock 17 strapped to her thigh, you sure do look like a frightened cat, ready to run. You are not a threat. He knows it; he sees it; he feels it. He knows danger; you aren’t that.

“You’re not bitten?” He asks as he lowers his gun, letting you relax again.

You shake your head, though you can still see the hesitance in his eyes, the mistrust.

“Do I–” you start innocently, blushing already as you look at the man before you, “do I need to get naked? If so, I’d prefer a woman, if that is possible.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly, ignoring the heat that rises in his cheeks. He puts his gun back in his holster.

“Fuck, no, no… I believe you, what– what are you doing in the middle of Hawkins?”

He sees the way your shoulders relax, the way you take a deep breath in and then out, lowering your arms to your sides.

“I was in a small camp, a few towns away, and I’m trying to get to my old home… though, I got a bit lost cause a bat ripped my map out of my hands…” You frown.

“Demobat.”

You tilt your head to the side, furrowing your brows, “what?”

Steve scrunches his nose up, shaking his head at himself, he keeps forgetting.

“Nevermind.”

Your head is still tilted, your brows still furrowed, you look him up and down, no words fall from your lips, for a moment you are quiet.

He grows a little flustered beneath your gaze, not that he would ever admit, you are just the first stranger he had encountered in a while, a stranger who creeped up on him.

“You’re not very attentive.”

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“You only noticed me when I was already too close.”

He wants to laugh… a little.

“Sounds like you were up to no good,” Steve retorts, glaring at you to which your eyes only widen, filled with yet more panic. You open your mouth and close it again, a few times, the shock not letting you speak but when you do, you stutter and shake your head.

“No! Oh my god! I’m just saying – listen, I want no trouble, I’m just passing through, I just want to go home.”

Steve can’t help but be a bit amused by the panic and the fear in your eyes.

“I didn’t mean to scare you!”

If laughing hadn’t become such a strange thing to him these days, he would do it now, yeah, he would chuckle, he would laugh loudly.

“That’s funny,” he mumbles under his breath, looking you up and down one more time before he turns on his heels and continues his journey down the road. His boots hit the gravel roughly, footsteps echoing through the empty streets, it only takes three seconds before a second pair joins, just like he had suspected.

“Wait!”

You catch up with him quickly, walking beside him now. He feels your eyes on him but he doesn’t turn to look.

“Is this a community?”

He wouldn’t call it that, the few people that stayed here all fend for themselves, just like him and his friends do.

“Would be a very shitty one if anyone could just walk in.”

“Right…” He hears you murmur softly. “Are you passing through?”

“No.”

“Do you live here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Steve rolls his eyes, side-eying you. He is not very talkative anymore, he finds no joy in holding conversations, let alone in answering questions, he barely uses his voice nowadays, he doesn’t feel bad about it, or even guilty. Normally he would keep quiet or even snap at whoever is bothering him, today he can’t find it in himself to be mean… meaner.

“Cause it’s my hometown. Why are you by yourself?” Steve asks without looking at you.

“I left my last camp cause I want to go home, like I said before–”

“I know, I mean why are you traveling by yourself? It’s not safe out here, especially not for women.” Steve rounds the corner, inching closer to the only house that has a light peeking through the boards on the windows.

“It’s not safe for anyone out here, not just for women,” you correct him, looking at him in surprise when he opens the gate to the backyard before you and lets you walk in first. “But I haven’t seen anyone since I left the camp, you’re the first person…” You mumble and look down at your converse, that look very dirty in comparison to his black boots.

You stand before him now, close, a little too close for a stranger, though he makes no move to put more distance between you. He sees the wound on your shoulder clearer now, a cut caused by either a knife or glass.

You tilt your head up again, you are close enough to see his face now properly, the color of his eyes, hazel. Freckles and moles kiss his skin, his features are soft, his expression isn’t. His brown hair is very… voluminous, his beard is trimmed, he looks clean and he doesn’t smell, a rarity nowadays. He is tall, his shoulders are wide, he is certainly much stronger too, his biceps strain against his black shirt, and it only now dawns on you that you followed a man to what you presume is his home, you followed with no hesitation.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat and take a step back. He had shown no interest in you, he doesn’t seem fond of you following him either. He is just as much of a threat as you are, you tell yourself.

“So er… is it just you here?” You ask, looking at the house he stopped by, the house you presume is his home, his fortress.

“No.”

You nod, pursing your lips as you look into his cold eyes but he quickly breaks eye contact and starts walking again.

“Where is everyone and how many people are here?” You ask as you continue on following him, staring at the back of his head, his mullet looks good, taken care of, you notice. “Also why don’t you have any fences, aren’t you afraid of sick ones getting in? And–”

Steve turns on his heel, sighing loudly as he glares down at you, not even moving back when you almost bump into him.

“Will you shut up for a second!?” He grumbles, glaring at you again as he stares you down.

You press your lips together, gazing up into his dark eyes, not breaking eye contact. The look on his face should intimidate you, the cold eyes should scare you, he should scare you but he doesn’t.

“Have any monsters gotten in yet and if so, have you ever fought any? I ran into a dog like creature the other day, that fucker nearly bit my hand off, I–”

Two seconds. You shut up for two fucking seconds.

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, raising his hand up, he runs his fingers through his hair, his annoyance doesn’t faze you in the slightest, you open your mouth again, ready to ask another question but someone else beats you to it.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You instantly press your lips together, throwing your hand to your holster as you snap your head to look towards the gate and at the person who cut you off, startled by his presence, you take a step closer to the stranger you just met as you eye the man with the long hair, who is looking at you with a smile on his face. His eyes are kind, much kinder than the ones of the man beside you. He is holding a box, a gun is secured and tucked into his belt.

“Who’s this lovely lady, Harrington?” He asks, not stepping closer yet.

Harrington.

You don’t even notice the girl beside him until she clears her throat, offering you a small smile. Her hair is long and curly too, her bangs cover her eyes a little, a rifle is strapped over her shoulder.

“Someone passing through,” Harrington grumbles under his breath, clearly wanting you to keep passing through. “She’ll be on her way now.”

It’s getting dark now, it’s not safe to continue your travel when the sun sets. You planned to find shelter when you stepped foot into this town, maybe find some cans of food in one of the abandoned houses.

The girl meets your eyes, hesitating, she shakes her head.

“Oh, it’s getting dark, besides she could use a bath, Steve.” The girl says, frowning as she looks you up and down.

Offended, you scrunch your nose up and look down at yourself, “hey, I do my best in any possible lake!” You argue, despite the surprise in you. Every group, every community you have come across before, did not offer baths or shelter, not after your pleading, at least.

“She has to go to her hometown–”

“All alone?” The girl asks, frowning at the man – at Steve, beside you. She glances at the one next to her, they share the same look in their eyes. You wonder if they are siblings.

“Yes, all alone.” Steve sighs.

They look at him in disappointment.

He doesn’t want you here.

It’s nothing you aren’t used to.

You’re on your own, you always have been. Though you can’t remember the last time you had a proper shower, a real meal or a night full of sleep. You don’t know how to hunt, you wash yourself in lakes and you never sleep through the night, no matter how safe you think you are, you can’t sleep. You can’t even remember the last time you felt fully rested, not even the communities that provided you shelter gave you that real feeling of safety.

You don’t know these people, the man beside you and the pair before you, but the kind blue eyes and the chocolate brown ones are different from any of the ones you have looked into before – you can feel the indifference from Steve, he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t trust you.

“I-It’s fine, I was just passing through,” you shrug, offering a smile, despite the weird feeling in your stomach. “Do you… maybe have a map for me though?”

“Yeah,” Steve instantly speaks up, clearly wanting to get rid of you quickly.

She crosses her arms over her chest, ignoring your question, she glares at Steve, “did she ask to stay?”

Steve clenches his jaw, glaring back at her with an icy cold stare.

“We can’t afford another mouth to feed–”

The guy with the curly hair steps forward with a sigh, approaching Steve with a stubborn look on his face, “I’m keeping her.”

Steve scrunches his face up, scoffing at his friend, “she’s not a fucking puppy!”

Though he doesn’t listen to him and turns towards you, nudging his head at you, motioning for you to follow him as he goes to open the door to the house, “come on, we’re gonna eat dinner soon, we’re making stew. And you can get cleaned up if you want, Nancy will give you some clean clothes.”

You want to follow badly, the mention of food, of a warm meal makes your mouth water, and you wouldn’t say no to a shower and fresh clothes either but Steve’s unwelcoming expression makes you hesitate.

He is looking down at the ground, his jaw tense, his eyes unimpressed.

The girl, Nancy, she is looking at him still, waiting for him to look at her too but he doesn’t. There is something in her eyes that you can’t read, the same look that resides in his own.

With a sigh, she looks away and starts walking towards you after closing the gate behind her. She can see the hesitation on your face.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, we’re leaving soon too–”

“We are not,” Steve says harshly, nearly making you flinch.

“We are.” Nancy argues, her brows are pulled together, her lips curl downwards.

She is certainly more intimidating than he is.

“You can stay for the night, like Eddie said, we’ll have dinner and you can get cleaned up, tomorrow you can be on your way with the map you have asked for, but it’s getting dark now – so, you’re staying.”

“Okay.”

It’s funny, normally that would have been a warning sign for you to run. People aren’t usually so persistent for you to stay and if they are, you never stay long enough to find out what evilness they have planned for you. Usually you aren’t so trusting, but her kind blue eyes make it hard not to.

Finding kindness in this world is a rarity nowadays, you wonder if these people ever encountered real danger – not the creatures, or the sick people but humans, you found out that those can be much worse, evil. You figure that they haven’t, otherwise they wouldn’t be so trusting towards you, even Steve, he didn’t ask you to take your weapons off of you, didn’t tell you to hand them over, he just let you follow, and his friends open the door to their home for you, they let you inside, he does too.

You have a growing suspicion that they don’t really know the world they live in now, they haven’t seen past this untouched town, they haven’t seen what people are capable of, how cruel and evil they can be, because if they did, you would not be welcome here, not so easily, no matter how harmless you seem to them.

But the kindness you are greeted with today encourages the hope that never died inside of you.

Hope that died in him a long time ago.

Hope that will die in you just like it did in him.

He watches you closely, the way you look around the house the three of them have stayed in for the past year, you throw your backpack to the ground, leaving it abandoned by the stairs. You eye the radio station in the living room, curiosity lingers in your eyes, he notices how your fingers twitch but you don’t touch it, you draw back from it when you catch him staring at you like a hawk – he almost feels bad when you shy away.

You turn your back to him and look at the bookshelf, tilting your head to the side.

Steve should stop it, the staring, but he can’t, he doesn’t know why, you are not a threat, he doesn’t need to watch you but he keeps doing it, slowly following you through the house like you are his prey.

You are the first stranger to enter this house, the first and the only. Every person who stumbled upon this ghost town was turned and scared away by him. He doesn’t know why he let you inside, Eddie and Nancy wouldn’t be able to keep you here, no matter how persistent and stubborn they had been. If they didn’t want you here, you would have been long gone and not walking around the house.

But something about you makes him mad.

Maybe it’s the way you so easily fit in, or maybe it’s the way you fall for Eddie’s charm and giggle at every attempt of his to make you smile, maybe it’s the way you get along with Nancy right away, Nancy who is usually distrusting of anyone she doesn’t know, or maybe it’s the way you look at him when you sit across from him during dinner, the golden light from the fireplace touching your soft skin. Your eyes are big and innocent, the air around you is too, like you had been untouched by the horrors of this world, like nothing ever happened to you, like you didn’t lose anything or anyone, like the world didn’t even scratch the surface of you.

He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know anything about you but he knows what you are – a naive and stupid girl, one that throws herself into danger, the cut on your shoulder and the scars on your upper arm are proof of that, you won’t survive long, people like you never do.

He stares into your eyes and you stare back, eyeing him while Eddie talks your ear off, who is happy to have someone new to talk with, considering he is stuck with people who aren’t the most talkative.

You blink, holding his gaze for a while.

You are trouble, the kind that he wants to stay away from, the kind he needs to stay away from.

And yet he finds himself knocking on the bathroom door to give you the toiletries and the clothes that Nancy had prepared for you after dinner. He is huffing loudly when he hears you singing, or humming. The only person he ever heard hum in a shower nowadays was Eddie, and he did it just to be an obnoxious prick. You, you are just happy, and who the hell is happy nowadays with how the world is? A psychopath. You are a fucking psychopath.

“One sec!” Your voice was sweet as the water is turned off, and soon after, the door is opening and his eyes are everywhere. You are wrapped in a towel, holding it tightly on your chest where the edge is tucked in. Your wet hair falling down your shoulders, the droplets all over your skin, and you have a stupid smile on your face. That snaps him out from the trance of staring at you more than he should. He blames it on not meeting another woman in a while. The only one in this ‘community’ of his age is Nancy, and she and him made it clear that whatever happened when Vecna was alive, that it was purely out of adrenaline and the need to be or feel cared for by someone in that moment.

“Have your stuff. Remember to give the clothes back before you leave tomorrow.” He extends his arms towards you, the body cream on top of the clothes, making you gasp as your arms shoot to take them from him, your eyes stuck on the white bottle.

“Oh god… thank you… I can’t– I can’t thank you enough–”

“Not me. Nancy and Eddie. I wanted you gone, still want you gone.” His eyes are looking away from you, down the hall as he speaks. He is harsh and he knows it, but there is a limit on water usage in the community, and you just used a ton. Which makes him think that Nancy and Eddie are being serious on leaving, not caring for the limits any longer.

Your eyes look up, catching onto the patch of freckles and moles on his neck, as well as a very prominent scar. As if he had been choked by some rope, going all the way around. You were hurt by his words, but yet, this guy is being mean, and wants to kick you out, and he is standing in front of you handing you body cream and clothes, when he could have refused. He could have shot you and defy his friends. He could have been pushier.

And so your hope doesn’t die.

“I’ll thank them later… but yet, thank you, as well.” You persist and he grumbles something under his breath, his head turning to look at you one last time. Hopefully, the last time he sees it before he wakes up tomorrow.

“Have a safe trip tomorrow.” And with that, he walks down the hall and towards his room, slowly closing the door behind him. Robin is going to kill him. Letting a random girl inside the house. Eddie and Nancy were out of their minds. Everyone was, except him. Hopefully.

He hears murmurs between you and Nancy in the hallway, giggles that disappear as you two disappear into Nancy’s room. She is letting you sleep on the bed with her. What the fuck was Nance thinking? You are a stranger… A stranger who seemed harmless enough, a stranger who looked… tired. Like the only thing you wanted to do was sleep, and sleep, and sleep.

He might be over-exaggerating with how he is treating you, but can anyone blame him for it?

His eyes move towards a scarf on his bed frame, his fingers caressing the hand-knitted mustard colored cotton between his fingers. He hears Eddie whistling as he goes into his room and his anger bubbles up inside of him again.

He isn’t leaving this town. It is a stupid idea to do so. It is reckless. It is also going against the community’s rules. He isn’t going to leave. He can’t leave Robin behind, and Eddie and Nancy know she won’t be coming along.

He won’t leave the last thing that is keeping him alive.

#steve harrington series #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst #mean!Steve harrington #grumpy x sunshine

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drowning-in-paragraphs · 3 days ago

Text

PUSH AND PULL

a/n: Hey! Sorry it's been a long time, but rn I have a lot of exams… While I finish them, here's something I've written before.

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: they fight but happy ending! long af

summary: In love, mess is inevitable—especially when you're as stubborn as Jude and you. A fight breaks out, and with it, comes chaos. But instead of facing it like adults, you both become kids again, unable to stop poking at each other and pushing each other's buttons. Whether it's a teasing remark, a too-close-for-comfort touch, or a pointed silence, you both dance around your feelings, caught in the tension of unspoken frustration. However, when the stubborness between you becomes unbearable, one kiss shatters the walls you’ve both carefully built.

The flat was a battlefield of silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the sharp-edged, suffocating kind, where every creak of the floorboards sounded like an accusation. Jude sat sprawled on the couch, legs wide, one hand gripping the remote. The TV played highlights from some old match, but you could tell from the way his eyes lingered on the screen without focus that he wasn’t watching.

You also sat on the couch, cross-legged, your laptop balanced on your thighs. With the television humming faintly in the background, you pretended to be engrossed in your laptop, fingers brushing aimlessly over the keys. Your hair fell over one shoulder, hiding the way you glanced at him every so often, wondering if he would break the silence. He did not. What he did, was catching you once, his dark eyes locking with yours for a brief moment, before you both looked away as if burned.

The tension in the room was suffocating, as if the air itself refused to move. Neither of you dared to take the first step to break the silence, which stretched between you like an invisible wall. The funniest part was that, in a house so vast, the two of you had ended up in the same room, sharing the same couch, barely a few inches apart. It was almost ridiculous. Tho, you didn’t react. Not outwardly, at least. Internally, you rolled your eyes so hard it hurt.

The fight from last night sat heavily between you. It was the kind of argument that left no room for winners, only wounds. You weren’t even sure how it started. He neither. A jab here, a poorly timed comment there, and before you knew it, the words turned sharp, biting into places neither of you wanted exposed. And now, all that was left was this: icy silence and the simmering frustration of two people who loved each other too much to let go but were too proud to make the first move.

Jude turned up the volume on the TV—just a notch higher than necessary. A small, petty move, but you caught it. You gritted your teeth and opened another tab on your laptop, pretending to type while your jaw clenched.

He leaned back, draping an arm casually across the back of the couch, his shirt hitching up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. A silver of his abs. You noticed—of course, you noticed—but you stubbornly refused to let your gaze linger. He was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The smug bastard.

To be fair, you weren’t entirely innocent either. You’d been wandering around the house all day without a bra, and you were well aware of how his eyes occasionally darted toward you before he quickly looked away. It wasn’t overt, nothing you could call him out on, but you could feel his awareness of you, just as you were hyper-aware of him.

In retaliation, you slammed your laptop shut, regardless of the tabs you had open. The noise echoed through the room, over the loud volume of the TV, and for a moment, Jude’s eyes met yours. There was a challenge in his gaze, a slight arch of his eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. Then, as if nothing, you opened the device again.

After a while, your boyfriend, decided that now the couch was not as comfortable as it was minutes before and went to the kitchen. In there, Jude’s movements were deliberate, exaggerated in a way that felt almost taunting. He opened the fridge with more force than necessary, the door creaking loudly, and lingered there for what felt like forever before finally pulling out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap with unnecessary force, the crack of the seal piercing the silence.

“You could’ve done that quieter,” you muttered, not looking up from your screen.

He snorted, the sound low and derisive. “You’ve been so sensitive later.”

Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t respond. Instead, you tapped harder on your keyboard, the clatter of the keys a pointed counter to his earlier disruption. It was petty, childish even, but you couldn’t help yourself. If he was going to be difficult, you could be too. You knew he hated that, and when you turned back, you caught the briefest twitch of his lips, as if he was holding back a smirk.

The audacity of him almost made you snap again.

The minutes dragged on, and the uneasy rhythm of your coexistence continued. Jude eventually moved to the living room, sprawling across the other end of the couch. His long legs stretched out, nudging your thigh as he adjusted his position. It wasn’t accidental—you could tell by the faint smirk that tugged at his lips when you glared at him.

“Can you not?” you snapped, shifting slightly away from him. Honestly, even when you were angry, you still liked the warmth of his contact, but you knew that pulling away would bother him.

“What? I’m just sitting,” he said, his tone infuriatingly casual. But then he moved his leg again, deliberately pressing it against yours, skin against warm skin. This time, you didn’t move, choosing instead to act as if you didn’t notice at all.

“Sitting doesn’t involve invading someone else’s space.”

He didn’t respond, but the smirk on his face only deepened, as if he found your irritation amusing. Leaning further back into the couch, he made himself completely comfortable, clearly unbothered.

You turned your focus back to your laptop, though you weren’t sure why you bothered. It wasn’t like you were getting any actual work done.

When he grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels, the sound of the TV growing louder with each change, you shot him another glare. He didn’t acknowledge it, his gaze fixed on the screen as if he couldn’t feel the weight of your annoyance.

“Are you trying to be obnoxious, or does it just come naturally?” you asked, your voice sharp.

He finally turned to look at you, annoyed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, but neither of you said anything more. Instead, you both retreated into the silence, your mutual frustration simmering just below the surface.

By early afternoon, the passive-aggressive dance had reached new heights. You were in the kitchen, making yourself a coffee when he got up moments later, brushing past you as he headed to the sink. You could have moved, made it easier for him, but you didn’t. Neither did he. Your shoulders bumped, and you felt a spark of irritation—at him, at yourself, at the situation.

“Excuse me,” he said finally, his tone clipped but low, his breath brushing your temple as he reached over you for a glass. You stepped aside, not because you wanted to but because your pride wouldn’t let you linger there like some lovesick fool.

He filled the glass with water, the sound of it cascading against the sink somehow louder than necessary. His presence so close to you was suffocating, but you refused to move too far. He stood there for a moment with heavy eye contact after taking a sip, leaning against the counter like he was waiting for you to react.

You didn’t.

Instead, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it, appearing uninterested. You saw him glance at you from the corner of his eye, and for a fleeting second, you thought you saw amusement flicker across his face. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way—sharp glances, clipped words, and small actions that seemed designed to provoke the other. When Jude left his empty glass on the coffee table instead of taking it to the sink, you picked it up with exaggerated care, your movements pointedly loud as you placed it in the dishwasher. When you adjusted the thermostat without asking, he changed it back moments later, the beep of the controls echoing like a challenge.

This repeated a few times.

Neither of you said what you really wanted to say. The words hovered in the air, unspoken but undeniable, like a ghost haunting the space between you.

As the night deepened, the tension between you became almost unbearable, thick and suffocating in the dimly lit room. You lay curled up on the bed, your fingers mindlessly scrolling through your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating your face. At the other end of the mattress, Jude sat hunched over his own device, the faint light from his screen carving sharp shadows across his features. His face was drawn tight, his brows furrowed in a way that made the lines of worry and frustration painfully obvious. You couldn’t help but wonder if you looked the same—tired, distant, and weighed down by the silence hanging between you.

You despised this chasm that had grown between you, the quiet hostility that lingered unspoken in the air. The silence wasn’t a comfortable one—it was filled with an unrelenting tension, an undercurrent of anger and hurt that felt alien and wrong. This wasn’t what you had envisioned. It wasn’t what you wanted. You loved him, even now, even through the haze of pain and frustration that churned within you. That love was still there, steady and unwavering, but it felt harder to reach, buried beneath the heavy layers of everything left unsaid.

Jude shifted slightly, his movement breaking the stillness. His fingers brushed against your arm, light as a whisper, a touch so brief it was almost nothing—but it wasn’t nothing. The contact jolted through you, surprising in its warmth and its ability to remind you of what once felt so natural. For a moment, you both froze. The touch lingered, suspended in time, carrying more weight than such a small gesture should. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, he pulled his hand away, retreating back to his side of the bed.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

The bed had grown colder as the hours ticked on, the tension between you and Jude acting like an invisible barrier, keeping you both firmly planted on opposite ends of the mattress. Sleep came to you first, though not peacefully—it was the restless kind, with the occasional shuffle and murmured sigh as your body sought the warmth that your pride kept you from asking for.

Jude stayed awake longer, his phone abandoned on the nightstand. His gaze flickered toward your sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of your shoulders pulling at something deep inside him. Even in sleep, there was a tightness to the set of your jaw, a lingering sign of the frustration that had consumed the day. He wanted to reach out, to smooth the lines away with his thumb, to press a kiss to the crown of your head like he always did when you argued. But the memory of your sharp words, and his own stubbornness, kept him still.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted off into a restless slumber.

Next morning, the dim light of morning crept through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft stripes across the room. Jude stirred first, his body stiff and warm under the tangled sheets. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, until he became acutely aware of two things: the faint scent of your shampoo and the fact that his arm was draped securely around your waist.

His heart thudded once, heavy and slow, as the realization hit. Sometime during the night, you two had moved closer, the invisible wall of your argument forgotten in sleep. Your back was pressed against his chest, your legs loosely intertwined, his nose buried in the crown of your hair. It felt impossibly natural, like the way you used to fit before the fight. His hold on you was firm but careful, as if even his sleeping self knew you were something precious, something not to let go of.

Jude’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles before his pride crept in, whispering to him that this was just a fluke. He wasn’t supposed to be happy about this, was he? You were still angry—still caught in the push and pull of your unresolved tension. But damn it, holding you like this felt good. Really good. It felt right. He allowed himself one more selfish second to savor the moment before you stirred.

Your soft murmur pulled him from his thoughts. You shifted slightly, pressing closer to his chest, your body melting into his as if seeking his warmth even in sleep. His heart ached, and a wave of affection so fierce it startled him coursed through his chest. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you he was sorry for the things he said, the things he didn’t say. But pride anchored him in place, so instead, he lay there, pretending he didn’t feel anything at all.

You woke to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the unmistakable weight of his arm around you. For a moment, still caught in the haze of sleep, you sighed contentedly, nestling closer to the warmth behind you. It felt safe, familiar, and so achingly right that it made your chest tighten.

But then, reality crashed in like a bucket of cold water. You froze, eyes flying open, as you realized exactly where you were—and who you were with. The fight, the tension, the stubborn refusal to bridge the gap between you—it all came rushing back, drowning out the soft thrum of happiness that lingered from waking in his arms.

Still, you didn’t move immediately. Instead, you let yourself linger for just a moment longer, feeling the solidness of him behind you, the warmth of his breath against your neck. Your heart ached with love, raw and unrelenting, a stark contrast to the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. How could you feel both so intensely at once?

You wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and let the love you felt show on your face. But the pride that had fueled your argument held you still. You couldn’t be the first to crack—not after last night. So, you did what you always did: you pushed the feelings down, buried them under a layer of indifference, and carefully shifted away.

You swung your legs out of bed, avoiding Jude’s gaze as you reached for your robe. He remained lounging on his side, his dark eyes tracking your movements.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. It wasn’t quite warm, but it lacked the sharp edge from yesterday.

“Morning,” you replied, fastening the belt of your robe with deliberate nonchalance.

As you padded to the kitchen to start the coffee, Jude followed, his footsteps soft but noticeable. He leaned casually against the counter as you worked, his arms crossed over his chest. The silence between you hung heavy but was no longer suffocating—just thick with the remnants of stubborn pride.

“You’re not going to make me a cup too?” he asked, arching a brow when you filled a single mug. A smirk tugged at his lips.

Yep, that early in the morning.

You turned, lips also twitching. “Last I checked, you have two hands and know where the mugs are.”

That smirk persisted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t mocking—it was teasing. “Wow. So generous this morning.”

You shrugged, raising your mug to your lips. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Jude shook his head, stepping forward to grab his own cup. You moved to lean against the counter opposite him, your mug cradled in both hands. He stood closer than necessary, the distance between you shrinking inch by inch as the minutes passed.

“You were hogging the blanket last night,” he stated suddenly, breaking the quiet.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me? I was hogging the blanket? You’re the human furnace who takes up three-quarters of the bed.”

He scoffed, setting his mug down. “Three-quarters? Dramatic much? You sleep like a starfish.”

A laugh escaped before you could stop it—a real, unguarded laugh that felt like a balm to the tension still clinging to the edges of the morning. Jude’s lips quirked into a grin, the kind that softened the sharp lines of his face and made your heart skip despite yourself. You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

The teasing was lighthearted, a refreshing shift from the icy tension of the previous day. But underneath it, the stubbornness remained—a silent promise that neither of you would be the first to openly admit you wanted peace.

Jude leaned against the counter, his coffee in hand, watching you with that maddening smirk. It wasn’t just his expression; it was the way he stood, as if the entire kitchen belonged to him, as if he were perfectly at ease and you were the one who had to figure out how to navigate the unspoken rules of this little game.

“You’re staring,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your coffee calmly.

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Can you blame me? You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“Oh, please,” you retorted, setting your mug down and crossing your arms. “I’m not in the mood for your cheesy one-liners. They are not working.”

“It wasn’t a one-liner. It was an observation,” he replied smoothly, taking a step closer. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “And besides, it’s not my fault you look cute when you’re grumpy.”

Your jaw tightened, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, twitching upward for just a moment before you caught yourself. “I know you miss me, but this is not the way of fixing things.”

“Miss you?” he shot back, leaning closer, his proximity making your heart stutter. “I woke up with you cuddling against me so…”

You rolled your eyes and turned away, feigning nonchalance as you began to tidy the already clean counter. “That’s not how... forget it,”

The morning passed in a steady rhythm of petty jabs and fleeting touches that neither of you could resist. When you walked past him to grab something from the pantry, his hand brushed lightly against your lower back—just enough to make your skin tingle. You shot him a look over your shoulder, but he was already looking elsewhere, as if the contact had been incidental. You knew better.

Later, as you stood by the sink rinsing your mug, Jude joined you, crowding your space under the guise of washing his hands. The sink was large enough for both of you, but he leaned in anyway, his arm brushing against yours, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“Do you mind?” you asked, tilting your head to glare at him.

“Not at all,” he replied with a grin, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You huffed, turning to move away, but his hand darted out to catch yours. The suddenness of it made you freeze, and for a moment, you just stared at each other, the air thickening between you. Jude’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a simple, unassuming touch that sent shivers racing up your arm.

But just as quickly, he released you, his smirk returning as if to mask the moment of vulnerability. “Don’t trip over your own stubbornness,” he said, stepping back.

You bristled, turning sharply to face him. “Me? Stubborn? That’s rich coming from you.”

The tension that had been simmering all morning suddenly flared, sharp and electric. That was what you both needed. “You’ve been impossible since yesterday,” he shot back, his voice rising just enough to match yours. “I’m not the one slamming laptops shut and stomping around like a child.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer, your chest brushing against his as you jabbed a finger at his chest. “And I’m not the one deliberately trying to piss the other off!”

Jude tilted his head, his smirk fading into something darker, more serious. “Oh, you think I’m the one pushing buttons here? Newsflash, love—you’ve been just as bad.”

“Love?” you repeated, your voice dripping with incredulity. “Don’t you dare—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Jude’s hands moved, quick and decisive. One slid to the small of your back, the other cupped your ass firmly, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you against him and lifted you off the ground. A startled gasp escaped your lips, but it was swallowed almost immediately as his mouth crashed against yours.

Finally, you thought to yourself, something you would never say out-loud.

The kiss was hot and demanding, a clash of teeth and tongues that mirrored the intensity of your earlier fight. Jude’s lips moved against yours with a ferocity that left no room for argument, his grip on you possessive and unyielding. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your hands finding purchase in his neck as you pulled him closer.

For a moment, you forgot everything—the fight, the pride, the stubbornness. All that existed was the heat of his mouth on yours, the solidness of his body pressed against you, and the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go. It was messy and desperate and so painfully raw that it left you breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were red and swollen, his breathing uneven as he stared at you with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something softer. “You argue too much,” he said, his voice rough and low.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to process what had just happened. “And you—”

“No no, shhh,” he interrupted, his mouth crashing against yours again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. It was an apology, a truce, and a declaration all rolled into one.

When he pulled back this time, his hands lingered, one sliding up to cup your cheek while the other stayed firmly at your waist. His thumb brushed lightly across your skin, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. His chest was heaving, just like yours, as if the kiss had stolen the air from both of you.

You stared at him, the heat of his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with everything that had just been said without words.

Finally, you broke it, your voice soft but steady. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “For… being difficult. For letting it drag on like this.”

Jude raised a brow, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “Oh, so you can apologize,” he teased, though the smirk on his face softened at the edges.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched despite yourself. “Juuude, don’t ruin the moment,” you warned, your tone light.

“I’m not,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Keep going, come on, I want to hear you say how wrong you were.”

Your laugh slipped out before you could stop it, and you swatted lightly at his chest. “Don’t push it.” But then your smile faded, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “I really am sorry, baby.”

His teasing faded as he looked at you, the sincerity in your voice settling over him like a balm. “Yeah, well,” he began, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer. “I’m sorry too. For being a stubborn ass. And for… picking fights when I should’ve just talked to you.”

You tilted your head slightly, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”

His thumb traced circles against your hip, his touch impossibly warm. “We’re kind of great, though,” he whispered, his voice almost teasing. “When we’re not driving each other crazy.”

You let out another soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re not wrong.”

The air between you shifted, the playfulness giving way to something deeper. Your lips hovered over his, your breaths mingling as the tension built again, electric and magnetic. You kissed him this time, slow but deliberate, pouring every ounce of affection and apology into it. His grip on your waist and ass tightened, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the way his heartbeat echoed yours, fast and unsteady.

When you finally broke apart, his lips were slightly swollen, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazed down at you. “You’re a tease, you know that?” he muttered, his voice husky.

You smirked, the heat still thrumming through your veins. “Only for you.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere. Then, without warning, he bent slightly, sliding his hands down to your thighs and hoisting you up effortlessly. A surprised laugh escaped you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you out of the kitchen.

“Jude—what are you doing?” you asked, though your tone betrayed more excitement than protest.

“Making up properly,” he replied, his voice low and rough in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “No more interruptions.”

You didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands threading through his hair as he kissed you again, his lips stealing every thought from your mind. Whatever tension had lingered between you melted away completely, leaving only warmth, laughter, and the undeniable pull of each other.

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cardassianexpats · 20 hours ago

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This is legit one of the reasons I love them so much and identify with Aziraphale like I haven't with any entity before. Being agender (or in my case genderagnostic) can be such a wild ride. Yes sure, I present as one gender, mostly cause I don't care and it's easiest and certain clothing just fits this body better. But sometimes someone will say something about my displayed gender and I'll look down and think "oh, yeah, right. I see why you'd think that, sure, whatever".

It took me a long while to recognize my actual gender (or lack thereof) and (again identifying with my angel) the thing that helped a lot was watching Crowley trying on and rotating all the genders. I first considered myself fluid, probably because I knew more about that label than my own, but realized that wasn't quite right by watching Crowley slip in and out of whatever gender he/they/she (I'd even argue "none" as Bee!Crowley) fancied that day was a revelation.

I had to read/learn about gender dysphoria because I, lucky bastard that I am, had never experienced that apart from being told "oh, but you ARE ..." and that not resonating at all, but not being at all bothered enough to correct the person.

This was a very long and serious post prompted by a silly Good Omens meme, which totally tracks 💛

If you're like me and struggling to find the word that describes you, feel free to try mine on and see if it fits.

#good omens #good omens fandom #gender #genderagnostic #agender #aziraphale #crowley

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l0vergirls · 2 days ago

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take the reins

you've dug too deep, but there doesn't seem to be a downside to that.

batfam x reader

wc: 1382

a/n: i started watching mr. robot (plz no spoilers im literally on the 3rd episode) and fell in love with it and .. started thinking !!!.. & this is lowkey set up like the start of a series, but i'll see how it goes considering i have nothing plannef at all. .. pls do send asks about this story and this reader since i would love love love to expand on it hehe

It was as if time had stopped for a moment.

You found out a lot of secrets. Secrets that can put people behind bars. What do you do with those? Send in an anonymous tip to the rare non corrupt cop, of course. You like to think of it as being a non-violent vigilante. Instead of running around Gotham in a costume and beating the bad guys within an inch of their life, you sit comfortably behind your computer screen and dig.

You dig for anything and everything you can find on everyone you encounter. Why? Maybe it's the unrelenting feeling of needing control, or the fear of simply not knowing.

By breaking something down to its source code, you're baring it all; the rights, the wrongs, everything that makes or breaks you. You won't get caught off guard if you just know how something— someone works.

Sometimes, you find nothing noteworthy. Your neighbor in 405, for example. The first time you had passed her, she sneered at you. That was good enough reason to hack her.

The woman at 405 is Emma Davis, aged 35, 5'7, date of birth: May 15th. Studied at NYU, worked a desk job at some company in Star City before getting relocated to Gotham. Yeah, I wouldn't be ecstatic either. Brings home a different person every week. Occasionally smokes weed. Also your occasional hook up. Don't make decisions while intoxicated.

Emma Davis is just a run of the mill office worker, with the same vices as most people. Nobody special.

But this? This could get you in serious shit, if you aren't in for it already.

Bruce Wayne, date of birth: February 19th, 6'2, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, adoptive father of multiple children, and... crime fighting vigilante at night.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots after uncovering the man behind the cowl; you figured all his children were Robins at one point. Even the dead one. Except the dead one isn't really dead, is he?

Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne— all crime fighting vigilantes. What a family. You wonder who else you can unmask.

Fuck, you need to go home. Doing this at a coffee shop was a mistake, but damn it, their connection was fast. Too many people, too great a chance of a breakdown.

Close all the tabs, all the windows, scrub yourself clean of all evidence of intrusion. Don't leave a trace.

Shut down the laptop. Leave.

The sun is still out, they wouldn't be around yet. Everyone knows they all work at the dead of night.

You drown out the meaningless conversations around you, and you're on autopilot, heading to the apartment that you call home.

The Waynes pride themselves on their secrecy. Hiding their vigilante alter egos behind carefully crafted lies. They built walls as tall as the buildings with Bruce's name plastered across the front.

It was a little too late when Alfred Pennyworth received an alert from the Batcomputer. Alfred sent all the vigilantes a message, and they came running in. After all, a security breach is detrimental to all of them.

The butler found a location, The Last Drop. A café right in the middle of the city.

Bruce looked through all of the files, recordings, reports— everything. The hacker didn't take anything, and didn't make copies. He deduced that whoever it was simply read.

That's no good either. Someone out there is aware of who they are, who the man under the mask is.

"Alfred, pull up CCTV footage at The Last Drop at the time of the hack."

On the screen were the grainy videos of the café, with at least 6 different angles. It was fairly crowded, filled with busybodies coming and going through the door. With 7 people on their laptops, they could narrow down the search for the culprit. But not by much.

Until two figures left the café at the same time, approximately a few minutes after the breach, but neither of them were sitting next to each other.

It was one or the other.

Tyler Hess, banker. Went to school in the city, stayed in the city. Clean records, comes from an upper middle class family. Nothing of note.

[Y/N] [L/N], cybersecurity engineer at LabyrinthTech, and one of the more favored employees. Born and raised in Gotham, graduated college a year early, and by all accounts, highly intelligent. Clean records, but skilled enough to be the one behind the hack.

"Well, I think we found our suspect. What're you gonna do about it?" Jason bristled, apprehensive that this person knew all about him.

"'You'? What, you've got your own plan?" Dick retorted.

"Maybe. Not like I'm gonna hurt the little thing," he spat. It was invasive enough that you'd hacked into their records, he thinks a little scare is warranted.

Bruce interrupted, "No, I'll deal with this. They accessed our data for a reason."

It was inevitable that one of them was gonna pay you a visit tonight.

After locking yourself in the apartment, you figured a quick nap would be a good distraction from it. And it was, for a couple hours. Upon waking, you walked into the living room and lo and behold, vengeance himself was standing in your apartment.

"Can't say I didn't expect this, really," you spoke carefully, avoiding his gaze.

He grunted, "Then you know why I'm here. Why'd you do it? What do you gain from figuring out our identities?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow moving across your window.

"Nothing. I just got curious. All billionaires are shady, and they're all hiding something. You were, by far, the most suspicious," you let out a breath. "Don't worry, that's not what anyone else thinks, at least not anyone that can do what I do,"

You hear another voice joining the conversation.

"Do what? Invade people's privacy? You should really be careful where you stick your nose in, hacker."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. God, this guy's intense even through that helmet.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, date of birth: August 16th, date of death: April 27th, 6'0, occasional smoker, former Robin. Likes pot roast.

Batman— no, Bruce Wayne interjected, "Suspicious?"

"Might just be me, but I found it hard to believe the richest man in the world would be throwing so much money into this dump of a city without an ulterior motive," you look at one of the ears on his cowl, it was almost cute, "Every other rich guy did. Whatever money they put out, it came back to them ten times bigger. Nobody really felt for this city."

That was your angle? The two men went still at your somber admittance. Sure, Gotham wasn't the best city, but that's why they did what they did, wasn't it? They had the slightest urge to show you that they really did care. And perhaps show off a bit.

Jason shifted, "You did it because of a gut feeling?"

You shrugged, "It was right, wasn't it? Something was up, just not... in the way I expected,"

It wasn't everyday you uncover a vigilante that turned out to be Gotham's beloved billionaire.

"Anyway, congratulations on not being an entirely bad guy. 'm not gonna tell anyone," you murmured, "not like anyone's gonna believe me,"

You see Red Hood look at Batman, a silent conversation was, no doubt, occurring.

The two vigilantes head for your window— do these guys ever use the front door?

Bruce turns to you, "Try not to do it again,"

"No promises," you huffed. "But your defenses could use some work. Comms, body cams, and other recorded footage— they were just there."

Red Hood's helmet glinted as he tilted his head at you. You shivered.

"Right, won't do it again," and that was that.

It was like they were never here.

What a night.

You scrutinized the letter in your hands.

A job offer for a position you've never interviewed for. At Wayne Enterprises.

Batman works quick, that's for sure.

The pay was good, very good. You reckon there wasn't a single complaint about that.

Hm, they're making sure you're under their watch. If you were a threat, you'd be easier to keep an eye on. Easier to control.

You weren't one to give up control, but potentially having access to the city’s… well, everything, was something too tempting to give up.

Looks like LabyrinthTech was losing their best employee.

#dc x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam x reader #red hood x reader #batman x reader #nightwing x reader #red robin x reader #yandere dc #<< just in case i decide down the line to make this a yandere thing idk #— dc.#— yan writes.#0 plot in mind just vibes

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corpsedogs · 2 days ago

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✿ warmest of colds (req)

jason todd x f!reader

( ♡ jason lets you bother him since you can’t sleep )

You and Jason had just gotten into bed, the covers were pulled over your chest and the lights were out, the only light visible was the city lights outside and the dim moonlight.

You weren’t sleepy yet for some apparent reason, your sleep schedule kind of got mixed when Jason started coming over more and more. Not that you didn’t mind waking up late, but you tend to get bored when you can’t sleep.

You shifted to face his side, your bed was placed beside the wall and you’ve always wondered why he always stays on that part of the bed. You’ve once tried and claim that spot but he’d always find a way to lay down on his spot.

“You’re always next to the wall whenever you sleep.” you said, you can kind of see his eyes open as they darted towards you. “Yep.” he replied before closing his eyes again.

You placed your hands beneath your cheek, pillowing it to get comfortable. “But, the wall is cold.” Jason crosses his arms, “Well, if I stay on the other side you’re just going to kick and squish me.” you pouted, letting out a scoff.

“I’d never.” You replied as you pretended to be hurt by his words. Jason can’t help but ponder, why does it matter to you what side of the bed he takes?

He then faced towards you, raising his brow “Really now?” he says, “You have more benefits anyway, the other side makes it easier to get out of bed.” well, that was true.

You gave up bothering him as you stared back at the ceiling. Your eyes trailed at the light bulb as you stared at it for a bit, what a nice shade of grey… yeah, this won’t help you sleep at all. You tossed and turned while Jason didn’t seem to budge at all.

You then had an idea and faced him again, “Can I hold your face?” he did not oblige and moved towards you, you then cupped both of his cheeks as he furrows his brows, “Your hands are freezing, how the hell are you this cold?” you only smiled in the dark light, “Maybe I’m a snowman.”

You could feel him scoff at your corny remark, “Give me your hands.” he said. He took your hands between his and began rubbing it. “How are your hands warm?” you asked but Jason only shrugged, “No idea.”

His heat melted in your skin as you relaxed at his touch, you’ve always been aware that his hands were always warm, even at winter. You stayed silent as you watched him do his magic, “Well?” he calls out, snapping you out on your blank stare “I like it, it feels real nice.”

“Then move closer.” Jason wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you close. He noticed the blankets were on the edge of your hips and pulled them back. You sighed as buried your face in his shoulder blade, “You stopped paying attention to my hands.”

“You’ve warmed up, plus I only have two hands.” He said, patting your back. “And I need one to hold you.” You complained again, “But it’s not the same. I want something warm.”

Jason sighs, “Here.” he took your hands and slid them under his shirt, placing your cold hands on his waist. “Ohh, this is better.” you said.

He hummed at you as he continued to hug you, rubbing his warm hands on your back as he felt you relax in his embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead, “Tired?” he asked. You only hummed, “No, actually.”

Jason yawned, “Are you sure? It’s still late for you, isn’t it?” He buried his face on your neck, his lips grazing your skin gently.

You shook your head, “You messed up my sleep schedule a bit.” you said as you started to yawn as well. “You say so but now your eyes are drooping down, you’re gonna fall asleep any second now.” as he said that your eyes suddenly opened, “I was just resting my eyes.”

“Mm, sure.” he says as he planted a kiss on your chin “Go to sleep.”

Finally giving in, you then closed your eyes and went off to dream land.

🍓 i love making this one, i swear ill write longer fics soon. please reblog or comment it helps a lot.

#✿ saf’s fics #jason todd x reader #✿ saf’s reqs #jason todd x f!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd headcanons #jason todd headcanon #jason todd dc #jason todd fic #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood dc #red hood

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hauntedfawnn · 1 day ago

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۶♡ৎ Ex!Boyfriend!Rafe Eating Your Ass ۶♡ৎ

Cheating (not on reader), ass eating, fingering, choking, hair pulling, daddy kink, spit kink, anal, possessiveness, Rafe and reader are low key toxic for each other 18+MDNI!

(I read this fic by @novashelby and it had me really thinkin bout ass eating so shout out to her for thaaaat)

“I knew you fuckin’ missed me, baby.” You can hear the smirk on Rafe’s voice even if you can’t see it. He has you face down on his expensive sheets with his large hand pressing the side of your head into the mattress. “You might not want to admit it, but how wet your pussy is for me, says it all.”

Rafe chuckles as he kneels behind you, running his fingers through your dripping folds. You hate that he’s right, you always end up bent over for him no matter how many times you tell yourself it’s the last time. He always pulls you back.

“You know you can’t stay away from me. You always come runnin’ back for more.” Rafe dips the tips of his fingers into your dripping cunt before running his wet fingers on your clit. He teases your pussy with his thumb, letting you get lost in the pleasure long enough to pull it away from you and land a harsh smack on your clit. It makes you squeal and try to close your legs on instinct but Rafe keeps them open with his knee. “It’s cause you know that lil boyfriend of yours will never fuck you like I do.”

“You don’t know anything about him-“ Rafe lands another harsh smack on your pussy and laughs at the way you squirm and squeal.

“Yeah? I know if he was keeping you satisfied you wouldn’t be bent over like a fuckin’ whore for me.” He smacks your pussy again, this time following it with a spank so hard on your ass you’re sure it left an immediate handprint. “Plus you’re drippin’ f’me.”

Rafe runs the tips of his fingers along your pussy, wetting them with your juices. He traces your lips and your clit before sliding his hand up to your asshole and circling it with his pointer finger. “Bet you don’t let him play with your ass, do you, baby? This hole is just for daddy, right?”

“Raaafe, Shut up.” You whine into the mattress, embarrassed by the truth in his words. You told your new boyfriend you weren’t into anal when the truth was you just weren’t into it with anyone that wasn’t Rafe. There’s a lot of things you only trust him to do and that’s why you can’t give him up. He’s so fucking toxic but he fucks you like he loves you and hates you all in the same vein and it’s like you’re addicted to him. Rafe spanks you with his free hand, pulling a little yelp from you that makes his cock jump.

“Drop the fuckin’ attitude, doll. That shit might fly with your gamer bitch boy boyfriend, but that’s not how we do things around here.” He spanks you again before thrusting two fingers knuckle deep inside you. He curls them just right, he always knew how to work you like you were his favorite toy. He presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. Rafe grabs the globe of your ass with his other hand, pulling you open for him. He leans down and lets a line of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your asshole. “Miss this sexy little ass, you gonna let me eat it from the back, for old times sake?”

“You’re lucky to even have me in your bed-“ Rafe pulls his fingers from inside you to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you up against his chest.

“Nah, that’s not how we’re gonna play it, princess.” Rafe grits into your ear. “We both know you want it, so just admit it. Say ‘yes daddy I want you to eat my ass and treat me like the whore I am.’ Say it or I won’t fuckin’ touch you.”

“Fuck, please?” Rafe’s hand tightens on your throat as he leans down to sink his teeth into your shoulder. The pain sends a jolt straight to your already throbbing pussy.

“That’s not what I said, is it? Beg slut, beg me to eat your pathetic little asshole.” You can feel Rafe’s sinister smirk against your skin and you hate that you’re going to do exactly what he says because you aren’t leaving here without it.

“Please eat my ass daddy? Please? I’ll be so good, I’m sorry for having a bad attitude.” You pout your lips and look over your shoulder at him and god if you didn’t want him to touch you so bad you would probably punch that smug look right off his beautiful face.

“That’s my girl.” Rafe snickers before pushing your head back into the mattress. He grips onto your asscheeks, pulling them apart and spitting onto your hole again. The warm liquid drips down your pussy and onto your clit, sending a shiver down your spine. He rubs his thumb in little circles around your hole, pushing it in every so slightly and then he leans down and licks from your clit all the way to your asshole. “Missed this ass so bad, you gotta stop depriving me, baby.”

Rafe mumbles into your pussy as he runs his tongue back down your clit before laying it flat and running it across your asshole. He licks you greedily, sliding his tongue between your cheeks and teasing your pussy. He circles your ass with his tongue and then pokes it inside you, flicking it in your tight walls.

“Oh fuck.” You moan into the sheets as Rafe fucks your ass with his tongue. He switches between circles and flicks of it inside of you, making you drip with his spit as your pussy clenches around nothing. And almost as if he can read your mind Rafe slides his fingers into your dripping cunt, thrusting them in and out of you at a brutal pace. His thumb finds your clit and it makes your eyes roll back. “God I’m gonna come already, daddy.”

“Mmm, there’s my obedient little slut. Come for me.” Rafe groans into your ass before shoving his tongue as far deep inside of it as it can go. One of his big hands spreads you open while the other finger fucks you, bullying your sweet spot. His thumb finds your clit and that’s all it takes to have you clawing the sheets and clenching around his fingers.

“Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, oh it’s so good, daddy.” You grind your ass back against him as your orgasm wracks your entire system. Rafe fucks you through it before pulling back and admiring the view.

“Would ya look at that.” Rafe grips onto your ass and pulls it apart so he can watch your cum drip down your thighs, his spit dripping down your crack and mixing with it. His finger circles your asshole before dipping inside to the second knuckle. “You gonna let me fuck your ass, baby? Need to feel you squeezing my fuckin’ dick.”

“Yeah fuck, yes.” You’re so far gone you aren’t even ashamed of how quickly you agree. Rafe rubs his hand on your pussy, wetting it with your juices before bringing it to his cock and using it as lube. He jerks himself a few times as he spits on your ass again and brings his finger to your hole, shoving it all the way in. “Oh my godddd.”

“Oh fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You really aren’t letting him play with this ass, huh? It’s all mine?” Rafe chuckles as he presses a second finger into you and thrusts them in and out of you slowly, opening you up for him. “S’gonna feel so good, goddamn.”

“Please.” You don’t even care if it hurts, you just want to feel him inside you. “Fuck me.” You wiggle your ass and arch your back even further, practically presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. Something in Rafe snaps in that moment and he brings his cock to your asshole and presses the head inside.

“Oh fuckin’ shit, baby, so tight.” Rafe groans as he brings his hand to your clit and rubs circles on it, the pleasure distracting from the burning stretch of his cock. He spits on you again before pressing halfway in and pulling out again. When he presses back in this time he slams his entire dick into your ass and it nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Oh god.” You whine and writhe beneath him, your body subconsciously trying to run away from the stinging pleasure.

“Where you goin’? Huh? Fuckin’ take it.” Rafe wraps his arm around your middle, locking you in place. His hand on your clit slides up between the dripping folds of your cunt before he presses two of them into you and thrusts them in and out of you time with the pumps of his cock.

“Fuck, I feel so full, daddy.” You’re practically limp beneath him as you drool into the mattress. “Fucking use me.”

“Use you? Oh baby, I’m gonna do more than that.” Rafe pulls his cock out of you to the tip before slamming it back into you and repeating the action. “I’m gonna fill this ass, then I’m gonna send your pathetic little boyfriend a picture of it. Wanna know the best part?”

“Hmm?” You’re so fucked out you that you don’t even fully process his words, blindly agreeing as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

“You’re.” Thrust. “Gonna.” Thrust. “Fuckin’ let me.” Thrust. “Aren’t you, princess?”

“Uh-huh. Oh fuck.” Rafe’s thumb finds your clit just as he pumps deep into your ass, his fingers curl against your sweet spot, and it has euphoria washing over you. “God, I’m coming again.”

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, give daddy your cum.” When your pussy stops spasming around his fingers he pulls them out and uses his opposite hand to yank onto the back of your hair. He pulls your head back and brings his wet fingers to your lips. “Taste yourself.”

He shoves them into your mouth as the hand on your hair yanks hard. You swirl your tongue around his digits with a moan as you lick your juices from his skin. He pulls them from your mouth with a pop before giving your hip a bruising grip and using your hair for leverage as he fucks your ass harder than before. Skin slaps against skin and the groans leaving Rafe are nearly animalistic.

“Gonna fill this slutty little ass with my cum, tell me you want it.” Rafe’s thrusts grow harder and sloppier by the second and you can tell he’s close so you clench around his cock.

“I want your cum, daddy, fill my ass.” Rafe’s dick twitches inside you as the hand in your hair pushes your head back down into the mattress. He leans his large frame over you as he pumps hard and deep into your ass. All it takes to have his cock bursting inside you is another clench of your walls.

“Yeah, that’s it, slut, take my fuckin’ cum.” Rafe pushes your face into the mattress so hard it cuts off your airflow as he fucks himself through his orgasm. His cock fills you with ropes of his cum and when he pulls out, he takes sick satisfaction in the way it drips out. “Don’t move.”

Even if you wanted to, you’re so fucked out that you’re stuck where you are. Panting on Rafe’s sheets with your ass in the air. You hear rustling behind you before the snap and the flash of a camera go off. It takes your hazy mind a second to process what he’s doing but when you do, you shoot up and turn around.

“Hey! Give me my fucking phone, Rafe!” You squeal as you launch yourself toward him but he just holds it over your head as he types. You manage to get your hands on it right as you hear the sound of a message being sent. You look at the screen in horror as you see the text he sent your boyfriend accompanied by the photo of his cum dripping from your ass. “Are you serious!?”

“Yeah. I am.” Rafe tongues his cheek and runs his hands across his chin as he smirks smugly. “I was tired of watching you pretend you liked that loser just to piss me off. Now he knows who really owns your little ass.”

“Ugh, fuck you!” You huff and slap his chest but he just grabs your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Pretty sure you just did, baby. But if you wanna go for a second round…” Rafe licks his lips as his eyes roam your naked body.

“No. I’m leaving.” You try to turn away from him but Rafe grips onto your shoulders, holding you in place.

“Nah. Lay your ass down, I miss that fuckin’ pussy. You’re not going anywhere.” Rafe grips onto your throat and pulls your face inches from his. “You’re mine and you know it. So stop playin’ your little games, I’m over it.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You groan as you throw yourself back on his plush pillows. You’re not leaving. And you both know it.

Tagging mooties: @rafescorpsebride @rafesheaven @rafescvntyclubgf @eerielamb @that-sarcastic-writer @moonlightseranade 🤍

Divider by @anitalenia

#rafe cameron #rafe #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader smut #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #ex!boyfriend!rafe #ex!rafe #bambii writes

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buddyhollysbuddyholly · 3 days ago

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♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ. ELVIS VER. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

All about ELVIS (pride themed)

Hes a cis guy, he's not like too deep into gender since he's comfortable with his own but he does understand it and does his best.

Hes GAY!!! Who would've guessed! He used to be very confused and almost angry at himself for being Homo especially in season 1 (kinda like JFK's questioning episode) but by the middle of season 2 he ignores the jock stereotypes and learns to accept himself.

He was drunk in episode one and had a deep talk with Gregory (my lovely wife's clone) and was like "shoot..I like him.." Though his parents always had a thought he would turn out, gay, and they tried to ignore it for as long as possible.

His parents are rich and barely around so of course his environments rocky. At school with his old friends their very much your typical jock guys who make gay jokes and stuff. When he gains new friends after season 1 (buddy, James dean etc) he becomes more accepting and his environment gets better.

Well me and my girlfriend were talking about our ideas for the clones and she was like "I dunno if I like Gregory and buddy together.." and I brought up Elvis and Gregory as a little joke but uh..that in fact did NOT stay a joke.

He doesn't mind labels, they respect others labels and would prefer if people respected his.

Not that I know of..maybe finding like straight like..videos erotic but other than that he's pretty confidant in his identity.

The idea that 1) the actual Elvis was considered a ladies man and 2) there is a lot of pressure from the other jocks and his own family to date a cute cheerleader (specifically Marie Antoinette)

Im not really sure..soooo NEXT!

yup! him and the gang usually go to parades and dress up for it, he's performed at one

he used to be really quiet and low-key about it, only kissing Gregory behind bleachers and at their homes, but now he's open and publicly shows his affection for Gregory

In season 1 he most definitely has internalized homophobia and transphobia (not to bad extents by they're there.) Hes able to move past it though and he acknowledges his faults

I don't think so, he doesn't really understand it and he also only has eyes for Gregory.

Hes not mine, but my girlfriend @waylonjenningswife oc (waylon I know ironic) is actually demi aroace!

None of them do, I don't think they'd really get them but they respect them!

I mean..I guess? if making actual people into clones and making them a part of the community counts

Not mine (again) but my girlfriends Marilyn and Bettie clones! (lesbians)

It depends on the oc but I personally like giving them labels just cause I feel it normalizes it more

i dunno about preference? But I usually show it as how it goes on in high school (since clone high..duh..) cause its not always so apparent ESPECIALLY with the popular kids its so annoying

they def did cause I was able to put how I feel about finding myself and etc into them and it helped lots

uhhh if you wanna know more about Elvis or my other ocs feel free to ask about them through my ask box!

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈PRIDE THEMED OC ASK GAME🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️

Bc I wanted one and didn't find it so. Here

[Send ask aimed at a specific character]

1. What's your oc's gender identity? What's their relationship to their gender?

2. What's your oc's orientation? (Romantic/sexual/platonic alterous ect) Do they have opinions about it?

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

4. Is your oc's environment supportive about their identity? How does this impact them?

5. How did you figure out your oc's identity?

6. How does your oc feel about labels? Theirs, or in general?

7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?

8. Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?

9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?

10. Does your oc celebrate Pride? How?

11. Is your oc open about their identity? Are they more lowkey or more blunt about it? Why or why not?

12. Does/did your oc ever wish they could change the way they are? Why? If it's in the past, how did they get over the feeling? (this can be about internalized homo/transphobia)

13. Would your oc be open to a poly relationship? Why or why not?

[Not aimed at a specific character] / [Aimed at creator]

14. Do you have ocs on the aro or ace spectrum?

15. Do any of your ocs use neopronouns? Which ones?

16. Did you ever change an oc's identity when they were already established? Why?

17. Do you share identity with any of your ocs? Which ones?

18. Do you prefer to give your ocs specific labels, or keep it unspecified? Why? If applicable, do you change their labels depending on circumstance?

19. Do you have preferences about depicting homo/transphobia in your stories? What, and why? Does it vary by story?

20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?

21. Free ramble card wee

#oc #oc ask #oc posting #oc propmt #pride #lgbtq #gay #clone high #clone high oc #Elvis presley #50s #50s rock #50s music

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illyrianslut · 1 day ago

Text

Spymaster's mate - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is away on business for the Night Court, but Y/N needs satisfaction while he is gone. He senses through the bond what his mate is needing and winnows home.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, breeding kink, spanking, masturbation. I think that's it..

Author's Note: I don't write smut a lot, so please be kind xD Ao3 Link

You had known it was going to be another long lonely night at home without Azriel to keep you company, but that didn’t make coming home to your empty town home any easier. It had been a rainy, dreary day in Velaris but you’d made the best of it deciding to visit Feyre and Nyx at Feyre’s shop surprising them with treats from their favorite bakery.

Even after spending time with you little nephew the ache of missing your mate consumed you once you were alone. Of course you understood that Azriel’s job as Spymaster for the Night Court was an important one, and one that often stole him away from you for days at a time, it didn’t ever take away the ache of being away from him or not knowing if he is safe.

Throwing your things in a pile beside the door, you enter your home and make your way to the kitchen to begin making something for dinner. Much to your surprise, there is a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table, a card with your name on it is sitting beside it.

You look around your home, feeling that your mate isn’t there causing you to wonder how the flowers got into your -locked- home. The note was clearly written in Azriel’s handwriting, confusing you further. You give a small tug on the mating bond you share with him, but can tell instantly that his walls are up and there is no chance of you getting through to him.

Y/N,

I wanted to apologize for leaving you home alone for so long. You know how it kills me to be away from you. Rhysand needs me to stay here longer, I can explain more when I get home. I am so sorry for being away my love, I will be home as soon as time allows. I love you, Az.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips, it wasn’t the first time his job kept him away longer than anticipated, and surely wouldn’t be the last. You know not to take it to heart, but that doesn’t take away the sting of missing him.

You give up on the idea of dinner, just wanting the day to be over. Sleep sounds much nicer anyway. You give the flowers a quick sniff and smile, he had always known your favorite flowers to get. But you’d still rather your mate be home than have flowers.

Tomorrow would be one week since you saw him, one week since you felt his calming pretense, and felt him inside you. Your core aches at the thought of your last morning before he left, as always he made sure to satisfy you fully before leaving. You get to your bedroom and throw on one of his shirts and crawl into bed, still thinking about that morning.

He had woken you with his lips wrapped around your clit, and hands on your hips to hold you in place while he devoured you.

You move your fingers to your needy cunt, and begin rubbing slow circles on your clit, remembering the feel of your mate.

“Az.” You moan running your fingers through his hair, hips bucking to meet his tongue that is currently lapping at your entrance as though it’s his last meal.

“Good morning my beautiful girl.” He says, moving to slide a finger inside you. “How many times shall I make you come for me this morning?” He questions, adding another finger.

You can’t help but sigh deeply at the memory of his fingers inside you, tossing your head back moving your fingers faster.

You hum in response to his question, but can’t find any words as pleasure is coursing through your body. He begins sucking on your swollen clit, making a knot form in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum.” You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back the moan rising in your throat. But he stops, taking away the pleasure he’d been giving so freely moments before.

“Don’t you dare hide those beautiful moans from me, princess.” He pulls your hand away from your mouth and holds it with his free hand, then goes back to lapping at your core. “You come for me, baby girl. Come all over my face.” His words are your undoing, your release hitting you all at once. Your legs clench around his shoulders and you let go, cumming on his tongue as he keeps licking, and pumping his fingers inside you quickly.

A tug is sent from the other side of the bond, a satisfied grin plasters itself on your face knowing that Azriel can feel the please you’re giving yourself. You drop what little shield was left to you, letting him in fully, letting him feel the orgasm you’re close to giving yourself.

“Please, I need more.” You beg him, not feeling fully satisfied, needing his cock inside you.

“Beg for it, Princess.” He commands, placing rough kisses up your body, sucking once he gets to your swollen nipple. “Beg for my cock if you want it so bad.” His hand reaches up to play with your other nipple.

Your body can’t help but respond to his deep, lust filled voice. “Az please, I need your cock inside me. I need you to fill my pussy.” Your voice comes out in a desperate whine while you take in the assault on your nipples.

“Good girl.” He praises you, lining his beautifully long cock up with your desperate cunt.

He doesn’t take but a moment before pushing his entire length inside you, earning a lust filled moan from both of you.

A brief rustle beside you brings you back to reality. You can’t help but startle seeing a dark figure in the corner of your bedroom, but once you recognize the shadows of your mate you continue flicking your fingers over your clit.

“You dirty little slut.” Azriel growls, stalking over to the bed and gripping your ankles to pull you to meet him.

You laugh excitedly, knowing that you’re in trouble, but also knowing the punishment will be well worth it. “What did I do?” You ask innocently, eyes raking down the man before you. His cock bulging through his leathers, wings fluttering as they always did when lust overtook him, and his eye narrowed on you.

“You know exactly what you did.” He leans down, grabbing the hand that had just been rubbing your clit and pulled you to a sitting position. His lips are close to yours, but instead of kissing you he lifts your hand to his mouth and sucks on the two fingers covered in your wetness. “Take off the shirt.” He commands, leaving no room for argument.

You do as your told, and toss the shirt you’d taken from his dresser across the room. He stood above you not breaking eye contact, he loved to hold the power over you in the bedroom, to be in control. “Get your ass in the air.” Another command, causing your needy cunt to clench looking for something to fill it.

You turn yourself around so that your ass is in the air, and shake it for him. A hard smack lands on your left cheek, a moan from you as you savor the punishment. “Please Az, I need your dick inside me.” You beg, wishing more than anything that cock was filling you up like it had before he left.

He sucks gently at your collarbone, sure to leave a nice purple bruise after he’s done. His hips pull out of you teasingly slow before he shoves his cock back into you so hard your body pushes up. He repeats his thrust again and again, earning pleasure filled cries from you. “That’s right pretty girl, take my cock like a good fucking girl.”

You clench around his cock at his words, digging your fingers into his shoulder. “Good girl, clench that pussy around my dick. That’s right, take it just like that.” Another thrust into your aching pussy.

Smack. Your right cheek stings as he slaps it bringing you back to him. “Dirty slut, distracting me from my work.” One more slap to your left cheek and he pulls away, a whine leaving your lips. “Take my dick out, and if you’re a good girl maybe I’ll fuck you.”

You sit up quickly, facing him on the bed and begin undoing the leathers between you and his cock. A satisfied hum comes from him at your eagerness, earning you a soft caress on the cheek. As soon as you’ve undone his leathers and hauled them down you take in the beauty that is his length. Pre cum is spilling out of the tip, you lick your lips before getting to your knees in front of him, licking his entire length.

He groans your name, and puts a fist in your hair tugging at the roots. You open your mouth wide to fit him inside, and dip down to take as much as you could, using your hand to pump the remaining length. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He praises, keeping his grip in your hair while guiding you in sucking his cock.

A glance up at him shows you his eyes closed tightly, and lips parted slightly as his soft moans fill the room. You use your free hand to cup his balls and he stiffens immediately, eyes shooting open to look down at you. “You are my good girl, aren’t you?” He grabs both sides of your head and thrusts into your mouth several times, making your eyes fill with tears, and gag as his entire length is shoved down your throat. Just when you think you aren’t able to take more he stops, and pulls you up gently. “Aren’t you?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that had filled your eyes from the face fuck, and reach behind him to run a gently finger across the base of his wings. “Do you think you deserve my dick?” He questions, shuddering at your touch.

“Yes baby.” Your words sound like a plea. You can’t help but grind against his cock, needing the friction, your dripping pussy aching for relief.

He leans down to your shoulder placing an all too gently kiss there before wrapping his arms under your ass and picking you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and lull your head to the side as he sucks at the soft skin.

Before you know it, your back has hit the wall, and he crashes his lips to yours. “You are my good little girl.” He lines his tip up with your entrance and without another word, thrusts into you. “Who got your pussy so wet angel?” He asks, pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, his balls slapping against you while he fucks up into you.

“You did Az, my pussy is soaked only for you.” You moan, taking his cock up inside you, grinding as much as you can to create more friction on your clit.

He hold you up with one arm, still fucking you when he reaches between you and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit. A red hot ball begins to form in your stomach, lewd sounds leaving your mouth as you try to form words around the ecstasy that you’re feeling.

“I’m g-gonna.” You try to get out, but just as the orgasm is about to take over you he pulls out and sets you on wobbling legs. “Az-” You beg, looking up, legs shaking as you’re unable to hold yourself up at the let down from you ruined orgasm.

“Not yet you’re not.” He drags you over to the bed, holding you up as your body comes down from the disappointment. “You’re coming on my mouth first, sweet girl.” He tells you, laying you down and kneeling before you.

His cock is being fisted in his hand as he pushes you down and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “You don’t cum until I tell you to. Is that understood?” His mouth is hovering over your soaked pussy, but he refuses to give you pleasure until you acknowledge his words.

“Yes baby.” You confirm, hips rolling looking for any sign of satisfaction.

He leans in and immediately starts lapping at your soaking cunt “You’re so beautiful.” He says into you, sucking and slurping sending lightning bolts of pleasure rushing through you. Your ruined orgasm coming back, full force.

As though he senses the oncoming orgasm, he tears his hand away from his cock so he can put two fingers inside you, pumping quickly while he continues sucking on your clit. The pleasure is about to burst out of you, and you know you need to ask before you come. “Please let me cum.” You beg, hips bucking to meet his finger thrusts.

“Come for me princess.” With those words you come undone, your pleasure fulled moans filling the room, mixed with the slurping of your pussy in Azriel’s mouth. “Mmm, good fucking girl.” He praises, as your body convulses, letting the orgasm run through you.

You moan his name and a string of curse words, running your fingers through his hair. “Now it’s my turn, and I’m going to cum in that little pussy of yours.” Another wave of pleasure consumes you as he lay over you and thrusts inside before letting you come down from your first orgasm.

He fills you so completely, stretching your cunt to the limits filling you with the most beautiful feeling. His large hand finds your throat, and squeezes just enough to send more pleasure through you, his pace quickening as he fucks into you harder.

You reach back and play with his wings, and close your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hand around your throat. “I’m gonna cum in your pussy and fill you with my seed. You little fucking whore.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy, he releases his grip on your throat and hold himself over you continuing to pump into you.

Your second orgasm burst out of you when he took your nipple in his mouth, the sensation overtaking you. You knew he was close, and the stimulation was becoming too much for you to bare, “Please cum inside me, I want you to put a babe in me, Az.” You knew the words would be his undoing, he’d been attempting to get you with child for years.

Just like that his weight was on top of you in the most loving way and you felt his cum filling you up. Your name continuing to fall off his lips as he kept thrusting to push his seed further inside. As he finished his hips pressed into you, creating an overstimulated cry leave your lips.

As he realized what caused the cry, he began grinding against you harder, a devious grin spreading across his lips. You try to push his weight off you, feeling another unwelcome orgasm creeping up inside you “Az it’s too much.” You beg, your hips betraying you and grinding into his.

The orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, another cry escaping out of you. “You have one more in you, I know it.” He slides down your body, and holds your hips in place while he attaches his lips to your exposed cunt again.

“Azriel!” You cry out, the overstimulation crashing into you, tears falling from your eyes and your cunt clenching trying to hold back an orgasm.

He nips at your bundle of nerves and that is your undoing, your final orgasm leaving your body like an exorcism. Cries of pleasure and pain fill the room as your cunt aches from overuse. “That’s my good girl” Azriel walks away for only a moment before coming back with a warm cloth.

He kneels before you, as your body is trying to regulate itself. “I��m going to clean you now princess, and you need to let me.” He instructs, you can’t do anything but nod as your adrenaline lowers. As he gently wipes at your dripping and aching pussy you want to pull away, but he holds you there getting every drop off you.

You can’t move in the aftershock of your orgasms, so he wraps his strong arms around you and brings you to the head of the bed, tucking you in. “Come love.” He whispers, pulling you close to him, letting you rest your head on his check.

“You were so good for me, you’re such a good girl.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. “And who knows maybe I will have finally put a babe in you.” He smiles lovingly at you, and you can’t help but swell with love also at the idea of carrying his child.

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #acotar smut #acotar x reader

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