#i like this little denim vest on him
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dj pw
#i like this little denim vest on him#for some reason everyone was wearing these vests at this party 😭#pw#dj pw#2014
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i know i barely post, but. consider: timeskip ash gets his long eyelashes (à la JN) back, and timeskip gary gets his goofy ass cape back (or some variation thereof)
#i make good design choices. the best design choices. now if only i had the energy to DRAW THEM#i feel like gary graduates from that big heavy cape to a more refined poncho-like cape#possibly given to him by one of ash's family in the anahua region#and ash's stupid little denim vest? maybe that used to belong to papa. maybe
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okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…
oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)
the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.
you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.
logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.
that son of a bitch.
he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.
it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.
logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.
a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.
and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.
but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.
"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."
"shut the fuck up, wade."
logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.
wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."
logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"
"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."
from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.
every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.
jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?
you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.
one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.
what the fuck was this?
he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.
when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"
you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."
"yeah, no problem."
he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.
you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.
"you're logan, right?"
he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."
"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."
logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."
"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."
and you were gone again.
logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.
he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.
you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.
you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.
though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.
to you**
to come to you.*
sorry. typo.
#i think i'm hilarious#logan’s honda odyssey#logan howlett drabble#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fanfiction#logan smut#logan x reader#logan x you#wolverine smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#reader insert#deadpool and wolverine#faye’s writing ✧˖*°࿐
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Hi I love your fics and was hoping you’d like this request:)) I was thinking a fic with James x fem!reader where she’s a slytherin but not in the stereotypical way that James and the marauders typically see them as. She’s not cold hearted or prejudice, rather quite friendly and very artsy. I was thinking an enemies to lovers where James just generalizes her with the slytherin she doesn’t like so he’s not the kindest to her, but maybe she gets paired up for an assignment with Remus so James ends up having to be around her a bit and realizes she doesn’t suck lol. Think he would definitely have to work for her affection after fumbling the ball so hard but im a sucker for a happy ending!
I hope this sounds like something you’d enjoy writing, if not that’s totally ok too❤️
Masterpiece
James Potter x Slytherin!Reader
Summary: (see above) James Potter goes a little too far with a girl everyone happens to like.
AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it <3
CW: not proof read, use of {Y/N}, Jealous and Stupid James, sexual implied ending, Protective salty Remus, self indulgent, cursing, very slight angst, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo,
WC: ~9k
The sky was overcast and the wind was blowing rapidly, causing your sleeves to billow as the very stool you perched on teetered from side to side. You grabbed the seat and tried to steady your perch, holding up your paint brush away from your portrait as the creamy white shade dripped down on your bare legs.
Dressed in casual clothes, your paint stained denim short overalls and a striped shirt that hid evidence of handprint smears from your absentminded messes. Sleeves rolled up to show your speckled skin already decorated with splotches of white and browns, fresh hazy grays that resembled the foggy ground of Hogwarts and its students.
“{Y/N} {L/N}?” A voice so calm and careful called out from behind you. You turned and smiled on instinct, your eyes landing on the tall figure. He was also in more casual clothes, a brown cable knit sweater vest over a simple white button down shirt. He was holding up a piece of paper to his eyes before he put it in his pocket. Smiling so kindly, where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his scarred lip curled up to reveal perfectly uneven teeth.
Ballet white.
“Remus Lupin?” You called out to him and he chuckled, taking a few long steps to stand beside you.
“You were meant to wait for me, you know.” He teased and slipped his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah, I know, I know. But this was the perfect time for it.” You lifted your hands to gesture to the sky and he looked around to try and find what exactly made this 'perfect.’
“How’d you even manage to get in here?” He quizzed and took a seat on the railing. Looking around at the castle grounds from the top of RavenClaw’s tower, you got the perfect view of the astronomy tower, what you were currently painting.
“There wasn't much convincing involved. Barty Crouch walked me up here.” You smirked and he looked bewildered.
“You know Crouch?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Remus furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together how he hadn't heard of you before. Seeing as he was meant to be escorting you two and from each Hogwarts house for your own personal study, it seemed unlikely he wouldn't of known of you, getting this particular form of special treatment from the headmaster himself.
Remus walked around you and took a peak at what you were painting. The air so familiar, and comforting, both of you had forgotten you had just met.
“What are you painting?”
“Magical paintings.” You hummed and he furrowed his brow further.
“Don't you usually need a subject?”
“Traditionally.” You muttered and gestured for him to sit down. He listened almost instantly, sitting down on the floor next to you, laying his crutch across his lap. After a moment of pause you shrugged and set your paint aside, shifting to sit beside him on the floor, making him chuckle.
“Do you know how they work?”
“Not a clue.” He shifted to sit and face you fully. Both of you crossed your legs, like tots ready to swap unearthing secrets in the school yard.
“Well. What you're thinking of is magical portraits. The art of bringing the life of the subject to the painting.” You declared almost breathless. “But that's amature work.”
He gave a delighted and startled laugh at your bold declaration, but it didn't impede you.
“The true magic is being able to bring life that isn't visible to the naked eye, to visual art forms.” You declared and gestured to your painting. Remus’s eyes flickered up and widened a bit. You gave an excitable bright smile as you both watched the misty fog in your painting shift, the faint stars in the background twinkle against the backdrop, and even the few faint sketches of students within the distant tower moving about.
“Woah.” He whispered and you nodded eagerly.
“Isn't it inspiring?”
“It is.” He agreed instantly before he looked back at you. “But, doesn't it typically take magic from the subject for it to work effectively? How does this work?”
“Well, don't you think Hogwarts is possibly the most magical place in the world?” You argued and he chuckled at how easily you brushed off the question.
Of course, no one truly knew how it worked. Not that the creator of the art method ever documented his findings. The only clear part of it was not everyone had the knack for it. You were lucky, since you were young, to be able to produce the art even before you got your magic.
You turned to Remus, who was watching with rapt attention.
“Do you want to try?” You offered, a mischievous smile taking over your features that looked startlingly familiar to Remus.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me? Paint?”
“Why not? You might find you have a hidden talent!” You encouraged, handing him a brush and a palette.
Reluctantly, he took the brush, glancing at the canvas as if it were a daunting task. Exaggerative hesitation to defile such a beautiful painting. You grinned, ready to guide him through it. Little did you know that in that moment, you had endeared yourself to Remus in a way not many people were able to.
For the next few hours, well after curfew, you and Remus stayed perched on the RavenClaw tower, as you instructed him on what colors and paints to use. He was doing his best not to ‘ruin it’, which quickly went out the window when, in a moment of playful determination, you covered your hands in black paint and began to stamp your canvas. Convincing him that you truly didn't care what he did to the painting as long as it was fun.
Finally, you both snuck out of the RavenClaw tower as quietly as possible, trying not to wake anyone. Leading to you two in the halls, laughing and joking as he carried your canvas for you.
“So, you're self taught?” He prodded and you nodded.
“Yup! Have been doing this since I was.. four? Likely. My mother showed me.” You hummed and he gave a delighted laugh.
“Really? So you're studying in your free time?”
“Mhm! It's not something that can really be.. taught. So Hogwarts doesn't have classes on it quite yet.” You waved your hand vaguely and he nodded.
“You're telling me this now, after all that time trying? You got my hopes up, {L/N}.”
You giggled and he put his hand over his heart in fake anguish.
“I was this close to changing career paths, you know.”
“Oh, I'm sure you were. I could see the headline now: 'Remus Lupin, Future Auror, Turns Painter After One Magical Evening.'” You laughed, nudging him playfully with your elbow.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to Defense Against the Dark Arts, thank you very much. But this-” He gestured to the covered painting with a soft look. “You turned this mess into something amazing. You're truly talented.”
“I know.” You sang and he laughed, nudging you.
“I'm serious, you know.”
“Sirius? I thought you were his boyfriend?”
“Oh Merlin, you're as bad as they are.”
You gave a laugh of your own and shoved him back. “Oh, you Marauders? Please tell me you're joking.”
“No, no, truly. I think you'd get along. Gryffindor tower is next, right?” He prodded as you both entered the hall and stopped just before the dungeons’ entrance.
“Mhm.”
“I'll see you tomorrow then?” He offered and held out his hand. You took it with a firm shake and you both said your goodbyes, hurrying over to the Slytherin common room.
~~~
“She's quite fun, showed me how to match pallets colors.” Remus rambled on to Lily who gave a delighted laugh at how excited he was to show her his new found artistic ability. They were sitting on the couch together, and he was exposing to her why his newest sweater vest was absolutely ruined
“She sounds lovely.” Lily hummed, Sirius smirking from his spot between Remus’s knees, looking up at him. Eyes closed as one of the werewolf’s hands tangled in his loches of hair.
“So lovely you should just marry her.” Sirius teased and Remus glared at him, giving a particularly rough tug at his boyfriend's hair. Sirius giving a chuckle and biting his lip. “I see no punishment here.”
“You-”
“Whose getting hitched?” James piped up from the stairs, jogging over and hopping onto the couch. Making the cushions bounce a bit as he got comfortable. “Evans, how can you let this happen? A Hogwarts marriage that's not our own?”
Lily gave a sigh and rolled her eyes, gathering her things and saying her goodbyes to Remus and Sirius, giving James the cold shoulder with a simple ‘Potter’ as he put his hand over his chest and sunk further into the cushions.
“She says that name like it won't be hers someday.” He sighed fondly before he turned to look at the other two. “Where's Wormy?”
“He's on a date with a Hufflepuff.” Sirius snickered. “Some seventh year dude.”
“Huh.” James muttered and looked at the ceiling. “Didn't think he'd be the type to date older.”
“Yeah well-” Before Sirius could continue, Remus’s head peaked up from the couch when there was a knock on the portrait door.
“That her?” Sirius asked as Remus slugged out of his seat to get around his clingy boyfriend.
“Likely!” He shouted back and James tilted his head like a confused puppy.
“Who?” He quizzed Sirius and he smirked up at James.
“{Y/N} {L/N}, the artist extraordinaire.” Sirius replied with mock seriousness, adjusting his position to climb onto the couch. “Remus has been raving about her all evening.”
“{Y/N} {L/N}? Where have I heard of her before?” James leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Oh! That paint girl? One who has been doing those weird paint studies around school?”
“Yeah, that’s her.” Sirius replied, grinning. “Apparently, she's doing some self study. Remus was practically glowing when he talked about her.”
James’s eyes widened with intrigue. “That’s brilliant! I’ve heard whispers about her- it’s supposed to be absolutely mesmerizing.”
“I wouldn't go that far.” You interjected, stepping through the portrait hole just in time to catch the end of the conversation. You were slightly out of breath, having hurried from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, your paint-stained overalls still evidence of your artistic endeavors from yesterday. Looking around at the beautiful common room. A very faded almost gray-green scarf around your neck.
Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch
The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You teased with a playful grin, glancing around at the familiar faces of the infamous boys. Sirius was looking you over curiously, with his typical sleazy grin, but James seemed absolutely slack jawed. After a moment of a wait you gave a small laugh, snapping James out of whatever trance he was in. Turning to look at Remus who had his eyes locked on your paints, making you smile.
His eyes flicked up to yours and he grinned back cheekily. “Where should I set up?”
“Over here, near the window.” He gestured over to a small nook. You hurried over and set your things down. Starting of course with a small tarp to set up your painting area without having to worry about ruining the flooring.
You set up two canvas this time and Remus helped you, confused at first before you set another pallet and paint brush down. “Alright, my student. Do you remember what I taught you?” You teased and he laughed, walking over to pick up the paint.
“You didn't have the bring this just for me.”
“Oh I know, how great am I, right?” You teased and sat down. Remus was still getting used to your deflective personality. Shrugging as he sat down and watched as you worked. Doing his best to copy your movements.
Meanwhile, Sirius and James were watching the scene curiously. Sirius couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the attention his boyfriend was giving this new girl, and James was unable to get over the fading color of your scarf. His jaw clenched a bit as he watched Lily walk over to introduce herself, also somehow roped in by your charm and even sitting down with you two to watch you paint.
James leaned back on the couch, arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold before him. The sight of you, animated and joyful as you explained your artistic process to Remus and Lily, stirred something in him. It wasn't just the way you wielded your paintbrush with such confidence; it was the warmth that radiated from you. You were a Slytherin, so obviously, but you held the room like a Gryffindor. You worked with the precision of a RavenClaw. You were patient and thoughtful with Remus and his questions, like a HufflePuff.
He didn't get it.
“Oi, Prongs, you look like you’ve just swallowed a lemon.” Sirius whispered, nudging James with his elbow. “What’s got you all broody?”
“Nothin.” James replied, too quickly, his eyes still fixed on you. “Just… watching.”
Sirius followed his eyes and slowly smirked to himself. “She's getting under your skin too, huh?”
James glanced at Sirius before his glare locked back on you as you instructed Lily to take your paintbrush and gestured to the canvas he couldn't see. “What's her deal? Why's she so.. smiley?”
The ‘as a Slytherin’ part came unspoken to both of the boys.
“You know, Remus says she knows Crouch.”
“Of course she does.” He muttered, eyes locked on the way you rolled up your sleeve and cuffed them. How you loosened your collar, and leaned down, showing the upper valley to your-
And suddenly the floor was a bit more interesting. He turned to look at Sirius who’s lip twitched as he watched Remus rub his thumb across his cheek and smudge some black paint on himself.
“... Merlin, he's bloody fit, ain't he?” Sirius muttered and James gave a loud exaggerated groan.
“I'm shocked Remus is entertaining her at all.” James finally muttered and sunk deeper into his sheet like a pouty child. Sirius nodded.
James watched with narrowed eyes as you laughed along with Remus and Lily, his annoyance bubbling up to the surface. Without really thinking it through, he pushed himself up from the couch, making his way over to where you were sitting with the paintbrushes and palettes laid out neatly.
He made it look casual, like he was just getting a better view, but as he stepped closer, his foot "accidentally" caught the jar of paint water perched near the edge of the table. It tipped, and time seemed to slow as the murky water splashed all over your leggings that just peaked form under your overalls, staining the fabric a dark, ugly color.
"Oh! Whoops, sorry 'bout that," James said, not quite managing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. His tone was just on the edge of sincere, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.
You glanced down at the mess, then up at James, and for a moment it seemed like the whole room held its breath. James just waiting for the snake to snap its jaws at him. But instead of getting angry, instead of snapping at him like he expected, you just smiled- a bright, genuine smile that made James's stomach twist uncomfortably.
"No worries, Potter.” You mused, brushing it off as if nothing had happened. "A bit of extra color never hurt anyone."
James blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t expected that. He muttered something that might have been an apology, but the way you smiled at him; completely unbothered- only made his irritation flare up more. He turned sharply on his heel, stalking back to the couch where Sirius was watching with an amused expression.
"Smooth, mate," Sirius drawled, arching an eyebrow.
"Shut it," James muttered, sinking back into his seat, his eyes flicking back to you as you continued painting like nothing had happened.
---
Over the next few days, James found himself increasingly irked by you. No matter what he did, you never seemed fazed. He "accidentally" knocked over your brushes during lunch one day, scattering them across the floor. You just laughed, picking them up without complaint. He charmed your canvas to keep sliding down whenever you set it up, but you only adjusted it each time, humming to yourself as if it were all just part of the process. He even tried to charm the colors in your palette to mix into a murky brown- but you simply shrugged, saying something about it being a "happy little accident" and turned it into a whole new painting.
Each time, you just smiled at him, that infuriatingly calm smile that made James feel like he was the one being childish. It was driving him mad, and Sirius, for one, found the whole thing endlessly entertaining.
One morning, James was sitting in the Great Hall, absently poking at his breakfast, when he heard a determined set of footsteps approaching. He looked up just in time to see you standing over him, hands on your hips, your eyes sharp. If James was a smarter boy, he would of been able to see the faint red rims around your eye sockets and the twitch of your lip.
"Potter.” You huffed, your voice carrying just enough edge to catch the attention of the surrounding students. "Give it back."
James blinked, feigning innocence. "Give what back?"
"Don't play dumb.” You snapped, leaning over the table, your face inches from his. "My paintbrush. The one with the silver handle. I know you took it."
James opened his mouth to deny it, but the look in your eyes made him hesitate. There was something different today- a fire that hadn’t been there before. He was finally getting a reaction from you. He felt his resolve waver, and before he could stop himself, he found his hand reaching into his robes, to pull out the paintbrush in question. Only.. it wasn't there.
James blinked, his smirk faltering as he patted the pocket where he thought he’d stashed your paintbrush. It wasn’t there. A pang of unease settled in his chest as he searched through the other pockets of his robes, the smirk fading completely as he came up empty-handed.
“Are you kidding me?” You straightened, your eyes narrowing. “Potter, don’t play games right now. That brush… it’s important to me.”
There was a crack in your voice, something raw that caught James off guard. The confidence you always carried seemed to waver, your voice betraying a vulnerability that made James's stomach sink with guilt.
“I… I swear it was right here,” James muttered, now frantically checking every inch of his robes, his face growing paler with each empty pocket. The students around them had grown quiet, sensing the sudden seriousness of the situation.
Remus was glaring daggers into his very soul, even Sirius hid his face away in his hand.
You stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your lips pressed together as you fought to maintain composure. You looked away from him, swallowing hard. “Potter, that was my mother’s. She gave it to me before…” You trailed off, your voice breaking slightly before you cleared your throat, trying to regain control.
James’s heart sank. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t thought. All he’d wanted was to rile you up, to see you react. He hadn’t meant for this.
“Alright,” He said quickly, standing up from the table. His voice was more earnest now, the usual cockiness gone. “I’ll help you find it. It must have fallen out somewhere. Let’s go check my dorm.”
You didn’t say anything, just nodded stiffly, blinking rapidly as you turned on your heel and started walking, James trailing after you. The Great Hall was eerily quiet as they left, whispers following in their wake.
“She's too damn nice.” Remus muttered and Sirius sighed. About to say something, before he earned a glare from Remus too.
Lily tutted. “As if you weren't involved in anything he's done to her so far.”
~~~
The walk to the Gryffindor common room felt like it took forever, the silence between the two of you heavy. James kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, the way your jaw was clenched, the way you kept your eyes straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.
When they reached the boys' dormitory, James immediately began tearing through his things, searching every nook and cranny. He pulled open drawers, checked under his bed, even rummaged through the pockets of his other robes. But the paintbrush was nowhere to be found.
He turned to you, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat. “I… I’m so sorry, {Y/N}, I can’t find it. Maybe it fell somewhere else, maybe-”
“Stop,” You cut him off, your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes were glassy, tears welling up as you looked at him. The fight you’d been trying to keep inside seemed to crumble all at once, your shoulders sagging as you sank down onto the edge of his bed. “It’s gone, isn’t it?”
James stared at you, his heart aching at the sight of you like this. He’d never imagined he’d see you cry, and knowing he was the cause of it made him feel worse than he ever thought possible. Suddenly all those weeks of trying to get under your skin seemed more of a success, if this was the result of a truly damaging prank.
“I…” He didn’t know what to say, how to fix this. He knelt down in front of you, his voice gentle. “I’ll find it, I promise. I’ll look everywhere, I’ll…”
You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not just a paintbrush, Potter. It was hers. It was all I had left of her.”
James’s chest tightened, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your knee. “I’m so sorry. I… I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll find it. I swear I will.”
You looked down at his hand, then back at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and exhaustion. “Just… don’t,” You whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Potter.”
And with that, you stood up, wiping at your eyes as you turned and left the dormitory, leaving James there, staring after you, feeling more helpless than he ever had before.
~~~
James had never felt guilt like this. It gnawed at him, making his usual swagger feel empty. Over the next few days, he found himself constantly scanning the corridors, the classrooms, even the common rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of you but you were always just out of reach. Each time he spotted you, you either turned and walked the other way or simply looked right through him as if he didn't exist.
It wasn't long before the whole school knew what had happened. How James Potter had lost something precious of yours, something irreplaceable. And unlike other times, where his mischief had earned him admiration or laughter, this time he received disapproving glares and whispers behind his back. How he hurt the only Slytherin everyone seemed to adore. Even Remus had given him the cold shoulder for a while, and Lily refused to talk to him outright.
One day, after Transfiguration, James caught sight of you slipping out of the classroom. He hurried to catch up, weaving through the crowd of students, his heart pounding in his chest. When he finally reached you, he touched your arm gently.
“{Y/N}, please, just give me a second.”
You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his. There was a guardedness there that hadn’t been before, a wall that you had built between yourself and him. It hurt more than James could put into words.
Even then, you took time to notice; Cinnamon Brown in his eyes.
James Potter was used to rejection, Lily Evans ran him like it was a damned sport, but something about your usually positive beaming face turning to a frown at the sight of him wrecked him.
“What do you want, Potter?” You asked, your voice tired, as if dealing with him was just another chore.
He swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry. Really. I never meant for things to go this far. I’ve been looking for your brush, I swear it. I… I just want to make it up to you.”
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s nothing you can do, alright? Just leave it, Potter.”
“But-”
“No,” You said firmly. “I don’t want anything to do with you. You’ve done enough. I- I thought you were funny, that you could tell a good joke. Take one too. But this- no. No, just leave me be, Potter.”
James flinched at your words, the finality of them cutting deeper than he expected. He watched as you turned and walked away, the distance between you growing with every step.
~~~
James's heart sank deeper with each day that passed without a sign of the lost paintbrush. He had scoured the castle, enlisted the help of some of his housemates, and even tried asking around discreetly in other houses, but to no avail. It was as if the brush had vanished into thin air, leaving behind a growing rift between him and you.
Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, James slumped on a couch, staring blankly at the fire crackling in the hearth. Sirius and Remus were there too, the latter still showing signs of his displeasure over the whole ordeal.
"I messed up, didn't I?" James murmured, not really expecting an answer.
"You did.” Remus deadpanned, not looking up from his book. "And you know it's not just about the brush. It's about how you've been treating her from the start."
Sirius, lounging with his back against the armrest, watched James closely. "You've been a right prat, Prongs- even I gave in after the first prank.” He remarked and avoided Remus’s slight glare. “You didn't just step on her toes, you danced the bloody Tango on them."
James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just wanted to get a rise out of her, see her react. But now... I can't stop thinking about how I made her feel. It's like I'm seeing myself for the first time and it's not a pretty picture."
"Sounds like you've got it bad," Sirius said with a smirk.
Remus closed his book, finally giving James his full attention, not exactly happy with what he was hearing. "It's not just guilt, James. It's empathy. You're finally understanding the impact of your actions on others."
James looked from Sirius to Remus, the realization slowly dawning on him. "It's not like I like her. She's just.. pretty. You know, I hate to see a pretty face so upset.” He scoffed and looked back to Sirius who arched his eyebrow and smirked wider as he realized his remark wasn't as playful as he intended.
“That right?” Sirius pushed and James huffed.
“That’s right.”
“When was the last time you bothered poor Evans?” Sirius challenged and Remus gave a low groan. Great, James just couldn't leave his friends alone.
He watched in a bit of sympathy as the dumb boys jaw slowly went limp and his eyes widened. “Merlin, I think I like her.” He mumbled in absolute dread. “Like really like her. And I've gone and ruined it before it could even start."
"Well, you can't undo what you've done, but you can start making amends," Remus advised, a softer tone replacing his earlier reprimand.
"How? She doesn’t even want to see me," James lamented.
"Give her time and show her you've changed.. And Merlin, don't do this just to win her over." Remus huffed.
James pondered, his gaze drifting toward the flickering fire. "What if she never forgives me?"
"Then you’ll learn a valuable lesson in respect, won't you?" Remus said sternly. "You can't force forgiveness, James. All you can do is prove that you're better than your worst mistake."
“Does Merlin speak straight through you?” James muttered to Remus who swatted him with the book across his lap, before standing.
“I need new friends.” He mumbled as he walked away.
Sirius laughed and James pouted, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. Pondering what would be the next best move when earning your forgiveness. He could live with never being with you, he always found the concept of lost love romantic.
What he couldn't do was live knowing he hurt you without even trying for your forgiveness.
~~~
For the next few weeks, Hogwarts transformed into an entirely different realm for James. Determined to right his wrongs, he threw himself into the role of a repentant suitor with the zeal of a true 70s romantic hero; one who was more often clumsy than charming.
One morning at breakfast, armed with an armful of apology notes penned in his best handwriting (which still looked suspiciously like chicken scratch), James tried to navigate the treacherous waters of your friends’ skepticism and Barty’s disdain. He handed out his notes, his voice tinged with hopeful earnestness that made a few of your friends stifle their giggles. “Could you- um, would you make sure {Y/N} gets these? They’re, well, important.” His cheeks flamed red as he stumbled over his words, but the sincerity in his eyes earned him a few nods. The stuttering and foolish boy even earning a smile from Pandora Rosier who assured him she'd ‘do her best.’
He was getting desperate, at every shred of attention you spared him. During potions class, James attempted to be your knight in shining armor, which, predictably, went about as well as a troll in a ballet shop. When he noticed you struggling to reach a vial of newt eyes on a high shelf, he leapt up, nearly knocking over his own cauldron in his eagerness to assist. “Allow me!”
But his overly enthusiastic grab sent the vial spinning into the air, only to crash down right next to Slughorn’s feet, splattering the hem of his robes with an unsightly goo.
“Sorry, Professor!” James winced, while you suppressed a snicker at the sheer absurdity of his gallantry. Graveling even as he was sentenced to detention.
Now, James knew that if he wanted to be truthful with you it started with his behaviors. Which, started with him being truly himself. So, much to Remus’s annoyance, James turned to grander gestures.
He managed to convince the house elves to let him borrow the kitchens for an evening to bake you a peace offering. Armed with sugar, flour, and an overabundance of misplaced confidence, he set about creating what he envisioned would be a culinary masterpiece. The result was a lopsided cake with icing that read, "Forgive me?" in wobbly letters. Only, half of the cake was callapsed, making it seem much more like a command of “give me”.
He presented it to you during dinner, his hands shaking slightly as he placed it on the table. The entire Great Hall watched in anticipation as you took a bite. The cake was oddly salty, but when your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, James felt a surge of pure elation. Maybe, just maybe, his efforts were thawing your icy regard.
He even tried serenading you one evening in the common room, guitar in hand- a skill he had hastily learned over the past week. His voice cracked more than once, and the guitar was slightly out of tune, but he sang with such heartfelt passion that even the portraits along the walls seemed to listen in. He crooned to you, mangling the melody as he went. You watched, half-amused and half-astonished, as this boy who’d never shown an interest in music before butchered the song with endearing enthusiasm. Everyone in your common room appalled.
Through it all, James's exploits became the talk of Hogwarts. Whispers followed him everywhere- some mocking, others admiring. Some even amused that his attention had switched from Lily Evans, to you after years of pining. But beneath the laughter and the rumors, a thread of respect grew among his peers. Here was James Potter, chasing redemption as doggedly as he’d once chased after mischief.
Late one night, as James sat by the fire reflecting on his recent life choices, Sirius plopped down next to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Prongs, you’re a bleeding heart wrapped in a jester’s cloak,” Sirius shook his head with a grin.
James laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I just need to know she forgives me, Padfoot. That I’ve made things right.”
“Well, mate, at the very least, you’ve given the whole school a good show,” Sirius chuckled. “And who knows? Maybe our little Slytherin is writing her own notes now; ‘How to Tame Your Marauder’ or something more poetic.”
James smiled, gazing into the flickering flames, hopeful and a bit wiser. In his quest to win your forgiveness, he’d stumbled across something unexpected. Something worth it. Not just you, but a desire- no, need- to better himself. Every time he saw you smile, made you laugh, roll your eyes, he wanted to be someone better. Someone who deserved to find themselves feeling the magic of being in love with a girl like {Y/N} {L/N}.
And maybe he'd even find himself worthy of her affection in return.
~~~
It all came to a head one day when he was scouring the school once again for your paintbrush. He had lost track of time in his mindless routine and forgotten about potions class. He was a half hour late, dashing into the classroom in a ruffled mess.
His breathless arrival didn’t go unnoticed, especially by you, who eyed him warily from your spot at the potions bench. Professor Slughorn eyed him with a mixture of irritation and curiosity.
“Mr. Potter, so kind of you to join us,” Slughorn boomed, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, it's almost as if you left to miss my instruction specifically.”
James grimaced but still tried to flash his playful smile that usually meant a clap back or snark. Instead, it was his form of a hesitant apology. “Sorry Professor-”
“I am not going over the instructions for Amortentia a third time today, is anyone willing to assist Mr. Potter?” Slughorn announced form the front of the class. There was a long moment of silence. Even with everyone slowly growing fond of him, no one was willing to drag down such an important project for the foolish boy.
Then, from across the room, your voice cut through the tension. "I can help him, Professor," you said, your voice calm but with an edge that didn’t entirely mask your reluctance. Everyone's heads turned towards you, including a visibly surprised James.
"Very well, {Y/N}. Please ensure Mr. Potter catches up without disrupting the rest of the class," Slughorn replied with a nod, turning back to his notes.
James approached your bench, a mix of gratitude and nervousness evident on his face. As he took the seat next to you, he whispered, "Thank you, I really mean it."
As James settled beside you at the potions bench, his hands fumbled slightly with the equipment. Slughorn, having returned to the front of the class, continued with his lecture, oblivious to the dramatic love story unfolding at the back.
James cleared his throat softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really, {Y/N}, thanks for helping me out here. I know I've been... well, less than admirable lately."
You didn't look at him immediately, focusing instead on measuring out rose thorns with precision. "Just start by adding these to the cauldron slowly.” You instructed, handing him the thorns. "And stir- don't let it settle."
As he followed your instructions, his movements were careful, mirroring the cautious tone he was taking with you. After a moment, you finally met his gaze. "You've been trying hard, haven't you?" You muttered, not unkindly. Your eyes drifting over his focused expression and having to fight a smile.
James paused, the stirring rod in his hand still. "I have. I want to make things right, not just with you but... well, I've been thinking a lot about things I've done. I'm sorry, truly."
You watched him, the sincerity in his eyes striking a chord that made your heart ache. What had you done to the famous James Potter? His efforts over the past few weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed- it was quite entertaining. From the awkwardly presented cake to his out-of-tune serenades, his actions spoke far more than his words ever did. "I've noticed.” You whispered. "It's been hard to miss, really. Hogwarts hasn't been this entertaining in years."
A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I've made a bit of a spectacle of myself."
"Just a bit.” You chuckled, the tension easing between you as the familiar rhythm of your banter found its footing again.
Encouraged by that sweet sound of your laugh and the pretty way your lips curled into a smile he just adored-, James continued, "If there’s any chance I could, you know, maybe start over? I’d understand if not but-"
"You're really laying it on thick with the humility, Potter. It’s a good look on you.” You teased gently, turning back to the potion, which was now bubbling contentedly. "Let's just take it one day at a time. But, yeah, we can start with being friends."
James let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, relief washing over him. "Friends, right. And if you ever want to throw more paint at me, just say when."
"Be careful, I might take you up on that.” You warned with a playful grin.
As the class progressed, you both fell into an easy rhythm, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a budding conversation. James was surprisingly adept once he focused, and you found yourself laughing more genuinely than you had in a while at his self-deprecating jokes and clumsy yet earnest attempts at potion-making.
By the end of the class, not only had you two successfully brewed a passable batch of Amortentia, which thankfully didn't smell like sweat and regret. James had shown you a different side of himself, one that was humbly trying to make amends and move forward. And as you packed up your supplies, sharing a light joke about the day's mishaps, it felt like a fresh start was truly possible.
James took the chance to smile back at Remus and Sirius. Sirius seemed delighted for him, and Remus seemed hesitant. But it was okay, because you hadn't just forgiven him. You were willing to be his friend.
~~~
James slowly realised that being your friend was likely one of the best feelings he's had in a while. He thought everyone you had met were your friends, considering how sweet and lovely you were with everyone.
But he was wrong.
There was a crazy side to you that only a small few saw. He learned it quickly, that you were sweet, kind, understanding- yes.
But you were an absolute gremlin when you wanted to be.
James discovered this one evening when you invited him to join you for a late-night painting session- a tradition you shared with a select few. Remus told him about them, but he never really understood just how amazing it felt to have your full attention like this. He had anticipated a serene evening, maybe learning a bit more about your magical painting techniques. Instead, he found himself in the middle of a chaotic spree of creativity that involved more prank-like antics than actual painting.
How in the bloody hell had he not known you properly?
As James entered the room, he was immediately hit by a flying glob of paint. It splattered across his face, dripping down his cheek. He stood, stunned for a moment, before hearing your laughter from behind an easel.
“Oh Potter, rule one. Never let your guard down.” You taunted and quickly hurried over to your canvas. Able to notice how the bright pink paint clung to his Jet Black hair.
Wiping the paint off with a sleeve, James couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a spark of challenge light up within him. "Oh, it’s on, {Y/N}." He responded, grabbing a palette loaded with vibrant colors.
What ensued was a wild mess of laughter, artistic ‘attacks,’ and impromptu paint duels that left both of you covered in every hue imaginable. Hindsight is 20/20- he shouldn't of worn his school robes. It was during these moments, dodging your playful ambushes and crafting hasty shields out of canvas boards, that James realized how comfortable he felt around you. Your laughter became a soundtrack he looked forward to, and your approving nods at his clumsy attempts at art warmed him more than he expected.
“It's humiliating how good you're getting at this.” You teased from your perch on a stool, James chuckled and playfully flipped you off.
“So much sass. And if I credited this to my teacher?”
“You should, I'm bloody good.” You laughed, wiping your nose before sneezing away some of the wet paint you forgot was on your hand.
That night became a normal accurance, it was like you two never fought. You two would find yourself laying on a tarp full of paint. You were laying on your back with your legs against the wall, and he was sitting with his back against said wall. Both of you looking off into dead space as you both talked about the most random and ridiculous things; from the controversial taste of pasties to the value and control one had over each other's fates.
“You know, everytime I come here, I remember why I've fallen for you.”
His words came out before he could stop himself. His jaw dropped at his own broken honesty, horrified that he had ruined the moment.
After a moment of silence, he looked down to see you smiling at the ceiling.
“Is that so?”
James swallowed thick and clenched his jaw a bit.
“Yeah.”
“That's awfully sweet of you.”
Your words were light, but they carried a weight that settled over James with an unexpected warmth. He watched you, admiring the serene expression on your face, highlighted by the ambient light that filtered through the scattered paint jars around you. He welcomed the twist of his gut like an old friend.
"I mean it, though," James continued, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze still fixed on you. "You make it easy to be myself, to be better. You've turned what started as a mess into something... pretty great."
“And isn't that just life?” You teased softly. “Sappy, messy, and yet an absolute masterpiece.”
“Is that what you truly believe?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just say what makes sense to me in the moment.”
“You're a pain.” He chuckled and looked down, seeing your smile had grown tenfold. Your nose scrunching up and the corners of your eyes wrinkling.
James couldn't resist the infectious energy of your smile. It pulled a laugh from deep within him, a genuine, carefree sound that filled the room- he was screwed. "You're brilliant, you know that? Absolutely infuriating, but brilliant."
You shifted to sit up, leaning against the wall next to him, paint smears marking both your faces and clothes. "I'll take that as a compliment, Potter. Coming from you, it means quite a lot."
And that was all. James hadn't even registered your soft rejection, just relieved you seemed to accept him regardless. He leaned his head on your shoulder and you flicked off some stray pain from his nose. He smiled, all teeth, before he got up and forced you to your feet. Pulling you into a dance that made you cackle like a proper witch. And that was enough. To see you so bloody happy was enough.
~~~
James learned to share you quickly. With Barty always on your heel or Pandora hovering listlessly at your side.
He even grew accustomed to seeing you draped in the easy camaraderie of Ravenclaws and your fellow Slytherins, your infectious laugh filling the spaces you all occupied together. It was during these times that James learned to appreciate you in a new light- not just as a friend or a fleeting crush, but as a vibrant part of his Hogwarts experience.
It wasn’t always easy, of course. The sting of his previous actions lingered like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts, a reminder of the consequences of his thoughtlessness. Yet, each shared smile and each shared conversation with you wove a new thread of respect and affection into the fabric of his daily life.
As winter deepened and the snow began to blanket Hogwarts, bringing with it the festive buzz of the upcoming holiday season, James found himself more reflective. The common room was often aglow with the warm light of the fire, students gathered around in cozy clusters, and it was here that James found a new sense of belonging. Not just as a Marauder, but as a friend among a wider circle that included you.
One chilly evening, as the wind howled outside and the frost painted delicate patterns on the castle windows, James approached you with a tentative peace offering- a sketchbook. Its cover was a simple, deep blue, but inside, he had taken the time to fill the first page with a clumsy yet earnest attempt at a magical painting. It wasn’t animated like yours, but the colors were vibrant, a silent testament to his efforts to understand your world.
You accepted the sketchbook with a surprised chuckle, flipping through the blank pages before pausing at his painting. “This is for me?” You asked, a softness in your voice that hadn’t been there before.
“Yeah,” James nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I thought… well, I thought you could use it to capture the winter. I know it’s not magical like yours, but-”
“It’s perfect, James,” You interrupted, a sincere smile breaking across your face. “Really. Thank you.”
That smile, that simple moment, seemed to close a chapter on the earlier tensions between you two.
“Of course, it's not free.”
“Id expect nothing less.” You teased and he chuckled.
“Quiddich. You never go to the games. All I ask, next week, come and cheer me on?” He offered and you couldn't up but laugh. “Are you asking for a lucky charm, Potter?”
”Not any Lucky charm. Mine.”
~~~
The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin arrived with the usual buzz of excitement and rivalry. The stands were packed, a sea of red and green as students cheered boisterously for their respective houses. James, his nerves on edge, had been secretly looking forward to seeing you in the crowd, especially after your promise to wear Gryffindor red. It was a small victory, but for him, it meant the world.
However, as he scanned the crowd from his broom high above, his heart sank a little. There you were, indeed wrapped in a bold, red scarf, but still cheering enthusiastically for Slytherin. The sight was confusing and, if he was honest with himself, a bit disappointing. Throughout the match, James tried to focus on the game, but his eyes inevitably kept drifting back to you. Each cheer for Slytherin felt like a playful taunt, and his competitive spirit took a hit each time.
Despite his best efforts, the game didn't go well for Gryffindor. Slytherin was sharp, coordinated, and relentless. When the Slytherin seeker caught the Snitch, sealing their victory, a wave of green cheers swept the stands. James landed his broom with a tight expression, his disappointment not just in the loss, but in the mixed signals you seemed to be sending.
The teams made their way back to the locker rooms amidst mixed reactions from the crowd. While his team consoled each other and talked about what went wrong, James couldn’t shake off his gloom. He avoided the usual post-game mingling, instead heading straight for the Gryffindor common room, his mood as dark as the clouds above.
As he slumped into an armchair by the fire, the common room mostly empty due to the ongoing celebrations outside, Remus and Sirius walked in. They took one look at him and exchanged a glance.
“Tough game, Prongs,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Yeah. And I guess the whole wearing-red thing didn’t mean what I thought it did,” James muttered, not meeting his friends' eyes.
Remus, ever the perceptive one, added softly, “Maybe there’s more to it, James. Did you ask her about it?”
Before James could respond, the portrait hole opened, and you stepped in, still wearing the red scarf, your expression a mix of concern and determination. Seeing you, Sirius and Remus excused themselves with knowing smiles, leaving the two of you alone.
James, as avoidant as ever and riddled with emotions he didn't want to confront, stood sharply and turned towards his dormitory. You gawked at him before furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance, a pout taking over your expression. You hurried after him.
“What's wrong, Jamie?”
Oh Merlin.
“I don't want to talk to you.” James hissed out and shoved his way into his room. You huffed and shoved the door open and walked in, closing the door behind yourself.
“You're not being very fair right now. I'm sorry I couldn't win the game for you but-”
“Do not make this about the win.”
“What is this about then, Jamie? I don't get it!”
“Stop calling me that.” He hissed and turned to face you, making you flinch.
“What's gotten into you?” You pushed cautiously and James scoffed.
“I can't do this! I don't get you!” He strained. “I tell you I've fallen for you and you brushed it off. I ask you to cheer for me and you show up in red, cheering for Slytherin!”
“James, it's my house.” You muttered softly and you saw his shoulders sag.
“Yeah but- I just figured-” He gave a long shaky sigh. Turning around and sitting on the bed, running his hands over his face.
You moved closer, taking a seat next to him on the bed, your own emotions swirling. Even then you were able to take notice. His teeth were strained by his jaw, yet they held the same Ballet White. His robes shimmering with Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch. His eyes that locked onto yours so vulnerable, giving that perfect Cinnamon Brown. Then the way his hair shagged over his Jet Black lochs. You couldn't look away. Not from all your favorite colors.
“James, I wore red because you asked me to. I thought it was a way to show you that... that I care. But I'm still a Slytherin, and my friends were down there on that field too. I was cheering for them, not against you."
James looked at you, the frustration softening in his eyes as he processed your words. "I know, I know. It's just... everything got mixed up in my head. Seeing you there, in red, but not for Gryffindor. It felt like you were there, but not really with me."
You took his hand gently, squeezing it. "I was there for you, James. Maybe not in the way you expected, but I was there because you matter to me. I cheered for Slytherin, but I wore your favorite color. Can't I support both?"
James let out a small laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. "When you put it like that, it sounds perfectly reasonable. I just... I guess I let the game get to me more than I should have."
"You're passionate, that's not a bad thing. But sometimes, you might see competition where there's just... affection." You offered him a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood further.
He returned your smile, this time with more warmth. "Affection, huh? So, you admit there’s something?" James teased, trying to shift back to his usual playful demeanor.
"Maybe I do.” You teased back, nudging him lightly. "But don't let it go to your head. We still have a lot to figure out, starting with how to handle house rivalries during Quidditch matches."
James chuckled, his spirits visibly lifted. "We'll figure it out. As long as it means I get to see you in Gryffindor red, maybe I can even cheer for Slytherin once in a while."
"That’s a deal.” You agreed, feeling the gap between you closing as the misunderstanding cleared up.
Just then, the door burst open, and Sirius poked his head in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Are we all forgiven and friendly now? Because there’s a victory party for Slytherin, and I was hoping to steal your girl for a dance, Prongs."
James rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. "Only if you promise to bring her back, Padfoot."
You laughed, standing up and offering James a hand up. "Let’s go then. And maybe we can start a new tradition- dancing together, no matter who wins the match."
James took your hand, standing and pulling you into a quick, grateful hug. "Sounds like a perfect plan."
Before he could pull away fully, you stole a quick kiss against his cheek. He gave a startled huff, staring at you with wide eyes. Before he could scamper out any response, or even kiss you back, you pulled away and sent him a wink. Hurrying after a laughing Sirius as he took your arm like a gentleman would.
It took James two to three business days for his system to turn back on. “H-hey, wait!” He shouted after you, stumbling over himself and hitting his foot against the bed. Giving a small curse before he stumbled back after you, not hearing the soft clank of something falling from between his head board and the dresser.
Later that night, you two would find your mother's paintbrush, nestled between his bed posts and pillows.
What were you doing in James Potter’s bed so late?
Experiencing a masterpiece.
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#james potter#sirius black#Remus Lupin#james potter x you#james fleamont potter#james potter x y/n#james potter x reader#lily Evans
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JOEL’S VISIT | Bad Blood Extra | 3,8k
Summary: Joel pays you a visit and makes your night unforgettable.
Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel is in his late 40s), step uncle!Joel is a warning in himself, stepdad Tommy makes an appearance (kinda), fingering, ass play, anal, sex toy, spit as lube, pussy slapping, cum eating, creampie, degradation kink, praise kink, alcohol consumption, swearing.
A/n: written as a naughty bday present for my love @milla-frenchy 🥳 happy birthday, baby!😘🩷 ILY! Hope you’ll enjoy my little gift❤️ and Joel’s huge gift🍆🍑😏
Pics are only for the mood. Reader has no specific physical description. Reader wears a skirt. Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive
Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Milla’s MASTERLIST
You step into your favorite bar in your college town and search for him. You notice the familiar broad shoulders far away from the crowd and saunter there, on the way turning heads of the other patrons but you don’t care about them. As if by a magnet you’re being pulled to the man, who’s sipping whiskey in a dark corner booth. Joel Miller.
You hate to admit it but you really missed the fucker. Missed his rough hands, his dirty words, his assholish attitude. No one else can make your blood boil like that but the hate you often feel towards him morphs into passion so fast that you wonder if your relationship is meant to be. As toxic as they are, you've never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Except your stepdad Tommy of course.
Right now Joel’s in the dog house. You’re still fuming over his intention to fuck someone with the hard on YOU gave him. So you don’t sit next to him and instead settle in front of the man at the booth.
Joel looks up from his drink and a smirk tugs at his lips, shining with drops of whiskey.
“Hey, uncle Joel,” you greet him with a reserved smile. He’s wearing a denim vest with a white tank top underneath and his huge arms make your heart skip a beat. Why does he always look so delicious?
“Hello, angel.”
His eyes slide down to your lips and then cleavage, with your tits almost spilling out of your top by design. He adjusts himself before asking,
“Doncha wanna give your favourite uncle a kiss?”
“Not really,” you reply as your eyes are boring into him.
He huffs a laugh and rubs his scruffy cheek.
“Being a cold bitch doesn’t suit you, baby. I prefer you needy and with my cock between your pretty lips.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your mouth waters at his words.
“It’s a health issue, Joel. I don’t wanna catch anything after you fucked every hole in Austin.”
Joel’s brows rise up and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you ogle his arms and shoulders.
“Oh, little slut’s jealous.”
You cross your arms making your breasts almost jump out of your top and lie,
“No, I‘m not.”
He narrows his eyes at you and takes a sip of his whiskey before talking again.
“Here’s a thing, angel. You can keep Tommy’s balls in a cute box under your bed. I don’t care. But ya definitely not getting mine.”
You scoff and he leans back against the seat.
“So let’s make it clear— I fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”
You clench your jaws as anger and jealousy squeeze your throat.
For some time you two sit in silence, the air between you electrified and heavy.
Finally Joel gets up with a grunt and you look up at him scared that he might leave, abandon you, but to your relief he comes up to your seat and plops down next to you. He turns to you slightly and puts his huge arm on the backrest behind you. He’s so close that it feels like a hug. His scent immediately envelops you and you gush as if on command.
“Look at me,” Joel gruffs but you keep staring ahead of yourself.
“Look. At. Me.”
The steel in his rumbling voice makes you throb and you turn your face to him, hiding your true emotions, your expression angry and cold.
“I’ve had a shitty day, angel. Don’t make it worse.”
He sounds serious and you furrow your brows with worry.
“What happened?”
Joel grabs his drink and finishes it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and talks to the empty glass.
”Paid Jess a visit today. Tommy left some stuff at your… her house.”
“Why didn’t he go himself?” you ask, feeling a pang of sadness that Tommy didn’t tell you anything.
Joel laughs.
“I don’t think he wants to meet your dear mother. He fucked her daughter on their marital bed. She ain’t exactly waiting for him there with open arms.”
“And you? I’m sure she wasn’t happy to see you either.”
“I don’t give a fuck. The bitch can curse me out all she wants. Tommy’s just too good of a guy. Feels bad.”
“Whatever,” you grumble.
Your gaze drops and you sit quietly, deep in your thoughts. Does Tommy feel bad about what happened? If so does he regret your relationship? Does he regret you?
“Hey,” Joel calls and you immediately look up at him, noticing a trace of softness in his voice. “Tommy asked me to give you something.”
“What?”
Joel turns to you more, his thigh presses against yours, and he brings his hand to your jaw. He pinches your chin and slowly leans down.
You slightly open your mouth, welcoming him, and he kisses you. In a second he’s licking into your mouth with passion, claiming you in front of everyone, and you melt, tasting whiskey and cigarettes on his hot tongue. He grabs the back of your head and devours your mouth, swallowing your needy whimpers as his other hand settles on your bare thigh, close to your naked pussy under the short skirt. He squeezes your leg and, feeling how much he wants you, you gush more. Your soft moans are drowned in a sea of chatter and music at the bar. It takes just a few seconds of this, of him, to make your pussy uncomfortably wet. Your core is crying for more and you open your legs wider, signaling him to touch you.
Joel’s plush lips part from yours as he mumbles,
“Here’s my needy slut.”
You reply with a flirty smile and press your body closer to his.
“Take me to a motel. Want you to fuck me like one of your cheap hookers.”
You drag your nose up his neck and Joel groans, roughly kneading your thigh.
“My sweet niece needs to get railed, uh? Dontcha have some fuck boy on standby at your dorm?
“I don’t cheat on daddy,” you whisper against his neck.
“Oh?”
”It’s ok if it’s you. It’s different.”
Joel huffs and then his expression gets serious.
”I can’t do motel today, baby. Need to get going.”
“Already?” you whine, pouting your lips.
“Yeah. Have work tomorrow. And if I get you all to myself in a room I won’t be able to stop fucking ya for at least a week.”
You smile and playfully bite the skin of his neck, before purring, “Sounds good.”
Your pussy is tingling for him and you desperately need to alleviate the ache.
“Please, Joel,” you sit straight and plead, batting your lashes at him. “I miss your big cock so much.”
Joel's wolfish grin makes your clit throb with the beat of your heart. Your tactics seem to work because he adjusts his big bulge and groans,
“My truck. Now.”
You can’t get up fast enough and then hurry to the exit, feeling Joel’s eyes on your swaying ass.
The parking lot is dark, illuminated only by one street light, and almost empty except for a few cars. Joel motions to his truck and you shiver when you walk there but not because of the cold. The culprit is an anticipation of his hands on your body, his cock deep inside you.
Before getting in you stop with your back to your step uncle.
”Wanna show you something.”
You bend over slightly and then lift your skirt. He sees your bare ass and you hear a whistle.
“Juicy.” He grabs your asscheeks but you swat his hands away.
“No, Joel. Wait.“
You push your ass out and spread your cheeks so he could see a pink jeweled butt plug, shaped like a heart.
“Fuck, angel, this for me? Been training your ass to take my big dick?
“Yeah. I thought you might miss it.”
You sigh when he presses his whole frame to yours. His big hands start kneading your naked cheeks and he licks the side of your neck and sucks a hickey into your delicate skin.
“Tommy asked me to leave this as a message for everyone.”
“What’s the message?” You breathe out, grinding your butt against Joel’s bulge.
“This pussy‘s taken. You’re ours.”
You moan, reveling in the possessiveness of the brothers and the sensation of Joel’s heavy body, pressing you against the truck, and you’re slowly but surely drenching your inner thighs. Soon the need overtakes any pride you have left.
“Fuck me, Joel. Fuck my ass. Please.”
“Sure, angel,” he growls, taking a step back, and pulls you off the truck. ”Inside. On your back.”
You do as you’re told, drunk with desire and excitement, and lie down on the faux leather seat at the back of the car. Joel settles between your thighs and throws your left ankle on his shoulder, opening you up for him.
“You often fuck here?” you ask, noticing how fast he found a comfortable position.
He replies with a smirk, “No, only on special occasions.”
You shoot him a playful wink.
“Aww. I’m flattered.”
“Ya should be. I’ll probably spend ages cleaning everything off your slick, little slut.”
“Fuck you,” you giggle and spread your thighs wider, as he grabs your hips and lifts them a little.
The hem of your skirt slides to your waist and Joel leers at your exposed pussy. In the almost dark car his eyes are glinting like those of a predator in a night forest. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his handsome features, accentuated by the dim yellow glow from the outside.
Joel seems to be mesmerized by you too.
“Here she is. Wet little pussy.”
He covers your cunt with his big hand and you shiver when his warm palm squeezes your cold folds.
A gasp crawls up your throat as Joel begins playing with your slippery cunt, drawing soft moans from you—he slides his fingers over your lips, massages your mound, lightly grazes your eager clit and when he lowers his hand and brushes the pink heart of your butt plug, you buck your hips, calling for him to take you.
His light ministrations feel so good you might cry but they are not enough to satiate your thirst so you yank the neckline of your top down and start kneading your naked breasts.
“Fuck, angel, never met anyone this horny and cock hungry.”
You don’t reply, fully lost in the sensations, but Joel demands your attention by flicking your clit and you cry out as a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through your body.
“Joelllll,” you whine but then a hazy smile blooms on your face and your step uncle notices it.
“How could I forget that my little niece likes a lil bit of pain with her pleasure? Dirty fucking girl.”
You smirk and Joel continues,
“I see you clenching your holes, baby. That pretty plug of yours nearly jumped out of your asshole. Let’s make it dance.”
Suddenly he slaps your pussy with an open palm and you whine,
“Fuck, Joel.” Your body jerks and all your muscles contract. His hot palm lands on your blooming cunt again and again, the strokes light but precise and sharp. Your soft moans fill the truck, sometimes interrupted by Joel’s encouragement.
“Doing good, angel— ya know ya deserve it—look at ya asshole sucking in the plug— your pussy’s winking at me—can ya come like that, baby?”
Through the lustful fog in your head, you barely register what he wants from you but when you do, your fingers start twitching your nipples, pushing yourself closer to the edge.
Slap—slap—slap, Joel spanks your slicked puffy folds and when his wet hand hits your clit just right, you cry out. Your head dips into the seat, your back arches as you come undone from Joel’s rough caress and he praises,
“Yeah, like that, angel. Good fucking slut.”
It takes you some time to stop trembling and when your limbs and body relax, you find Joel’s obsidian eyes drinking in every sign of your ecstasy.
“That was…Wow. Never came from spanking before.”
“‘s weird considering what a bratty bitch you can be. I’d think every second lover wants to slap your cunt.”
You smirk and flutter your eyes shut, still melting after experiencing such an incredible pleasure.
But they immediately snap open when you feel your butt plug move. You see Joel’s eyes glued to your puckered hole, held open by the jeweled toy.
“Joel?” Your voice is strained by the overwhelming sensation of the plug shifting its position inside you and you lift yourself on your elbows to see what he’s doing.
“I really missed your tight hole, angel. Very. Much.”
Joel empathizes each word by moving the plug in and out of your asshole. It glides smoothly, covered with lube and now your slick. You bite your lip, and whimper at the sight and feeling of your tight hole, stretching around the shiny head of the plug and then clamping around its base.
“Damn,” Joel mumbles to himself, as his fingers leave the plug and he begins unbuckling his belt. “Your asshole‘s drenched by your needy pussy. Might do without lube.”
“Yeah, Joel, fuck me raw. ‘s ok if it burns a little.”
“Shit, angel. Naughty slut. Look what ya doing to me.”
Joel unzips his jeans and tugs them down and your eyes are graced with the sight of his huge hard cock. The tip looks like a fat shiny lollipop and you almost drool seeing it bob over your naked cunt.
“Let’s replace the toy with something better, baby”.
Joel’s hand confidently wraps around the base of his stiff manhood while the other pulls on the plug. Your asshole clenches around it tightly, not letting it go, but Joel slowly slides it out and your ring closes.
Your chest is heaving with a mixture of excitement and nerves as Joel slides his cock between your soaked folds, wetting it, and then nudges your asshole with his leaking tip. He pushes in and you take a deep breath to relax but your hole is too tight.
“C’mon, little slut, relax for me.”
”Yeah,” you nod obediently and lie back down, looking up and trying to relax your muscles.
”‘s like that, open up for me, angel. You’ve taken me before.”
“Yeah, but … when I took your huge dick Tommy was there. He knows how to make me relax.”
You find Joel’s obsidian eyes, and then look down at his lips. The man scoffs.
“I ain’t gonna smooch ya forehead, baby. And ‘good girl’ for sure ain’t about you, little slut. So let’s try something else.”
Suddenly you feel Joel’s cock bump into your hardened clit. You whimper, hazy eyes locked with Joel’s, and he drops his head and starts drawing circles over your sensitive bud with his slippery tip.
“Ya like when I do this?”
”Yeah.”
“Good, breathe, baby. Unclench for me. Uncle wants to ruin your tight ass.”
He’s swirling your clit for some time and when the sensation of him, massaging your pussy, brings you close to the second climax, he slides his cock down to your crack and pushes into your tight ring.
With a gasp you feel your asshole give in as he inserts his mushroom head inside your ass, slowly but assertively. Your nails dig into the faux leather of the seat while Joel groans and closes his eyes and you watch his handsome weathered face twist in pleasure.
“Fuckkk,“ he growls and your heart sings, seeing him enjoy your body that much. Not minding the dull pain and the feeling of fullness, you whisper,
“Deeper, Joel. Want your whole cock in my ass.”
He opens his eyes and smirks at you,
“‘Course, angel. Gonna use you so good, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
His promise should probably make you nervous but lust has completely taken over your body and mind so you bend your legs and press them to your sides, submitting your body to him like an offering.
Joel’s huge hands grab your asscheeks, he spreads them and holds you open before rolling his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you.
He’s grunting and groaning while you’re breathing in and out steadily, opening up for him more and more. Letting him claim the deepest part of you.
Soon Joel bottoms out with a satisfied sigh and stops his movement.
“Look at that, angel. My dick’s fully inside ya ass.” His eyes are focused on the place where he’s sheathed inside you. ”Fuck, I’m so happy Tommy married your mother. It brought me here.”
He chuckles and drops his head back in pleasure and you lift on your elbows to see the way you are joined and watch your asshole flex around the base of his cock.
“Yeah, glad we met, Joel. Now can you please move?” You whine, desperately needing more. Joel doesn’t make you wait- he grabs your hips tighter and slowly pulls his cock out almost to the tip and then slams it back inside as you moan and grab onto the seat.
He starts off slow, rhythmically moving his stiffness inside your ass, then pulls out his glistening shaft half way out of you, spits on it, and plunges back in your canal. You moan as the wetness adds to the pleasure, coursing through your body, and soon your sweet sounds and Joel’s groans fill the inside of the truck.
You whine your step uncle’s name and your hand slithers down to your cunt.
“What is it, little slut? Aw, your needy pussy’s lonely,huh?”Joel mocks, through gritted teeth, and you gloat inside thinking that he must have a real hard time trying not to burst inside you.
But you decide to be a good girl for him so you bite your lip, pull your eyebrows together and nod.
“You’re cute, let’s fill your sloppy hole too then.”
Joel leans down and brings his index and middle fingers to your mouth.
“Make ‘em all nice and wet, angel.”
You smile and take his thick digits between your lips and lick them, glide your tongue over his skin, coating it in your saliva.
When Joel decides it’s enough, he pulls them out and straightens, slowing down his thrusts.
With his cock deep in your ass, he pushes two of his fingers into your crying pussy and you both watch both of your holes being spread wide around Joel.
“Fuck, I’m so full. Your fingers are like another cock inside me.”
“Ya welcome,” he mumbles and starts fucking both of your entrances— your ass with his cock, your pussy with his hand.
If you were enjoying yourself before now you’re in heaven.
“Yes, Joel, don’t stop,” you moan and the man growls in response. His thick and long cock in your ass takes so much room that your pussy channel feels tighter, his fingers stimulate you so much better, that in no time your walls start contracting around his fingers. Squelching sounds of your weeping cunt makes Joel fuck into your holes faster and soon you unravel under his ministrations, crying out his name and arching your back off the seat. You’re trembling all over, cock dumb, pleasure drunk, biting your puffy lips and leaving scratches on the seat.
When you relax and melt under the man, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and slowly thrusting into your ass, lets you clean them up.
”Lick it off, angel, be a good girl.”
You lazily taste yourself and then he covers your body with his, pressing you into the seat, his hips flush with your asscheeks.
“Gonna come soon, baby. Gimme some sugar.”
With that he kisses you passionately and begins hammering into your ass, reaching the deepest spot inside you, feverishly chasing his climax.
Seizing this moment of unity with him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him tight, while your tongues are moving against each other. You’re gladly letting him take everything from you and soon his muscles tense under your touch and he makes a few hard thrusts and then moans into your mouth and begins spurting ropes of hot cum inside you. He’s filling you up to the brim, his throbbing cock moving in and out of your tight canal, pushing his cum deeper into your stretched ass.
You’re nuzzling his cheek, tasting his skin with your tongue, and the overwhelming feelings in your chest make you forget your complicated relationship with the man stuffing you so well and you purr his name into his ear, softly, gently, pouring so much into these four letters. Joel locks eyes with you, while his cock still twitches inside you from time to time.
His gaze is relaxed, soft and satisfied, rid of the usual sharpness, mockery, guard.
Your throat squeezes and your breath hitches when you realize that you’re staring at someone else, someone deep inside Joel you know and before he disappears, hides behind the wall, you kiss him gently, hug him close, and he gives you all of that back.
A few minutes later Joel’s tucking his cock back into his jeans, groaning about your slick and scratches all over the seat. The asshole is back.
“Maybe ya wanna lick off your mess, angel?”
“Fuck off,” you snap, fixing your clothes, and then get into the front of the truck and carefully sit down on the passenger seat. Your ass is sore and plugged up again with Joel’s cum inside. ”A warm farewell gift for ya,” he laughed.
“Going raw was a mistake,” you complain with a hiss and watch him get behind the wheel with a lit cigarette between his lips.
“Take me to the dorm,” you command and Joel glares at you without moving.
“Please, uncle Joel,” you bat your lashes with exaggeration and he starts the car.
You immediately take out your phone and call Tommy.
“Hey, baby.”
“Daddy! Guess who just fucked my ass!” You chirp with excitement into the speaker.
You hear Tommy chuckling, Joel curses and smiles at you.
“I need the details, baby.”
You give Joel a wink and start talking.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST | Milla’s MASTERLIST
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Hurt/no comfort: shy!Reader slips a note in Eddie’s locker asking him on a date, but when he reads it, he just laughs and tosses it in the trash.
My brain needed to slip a soft landing in there in someway. So, there is no comfort for reader-in-the-fic, but there’s a little bit kinda sorta for person who is reading the fic. There’s a small gap if you wanna stop at the absolutely no comfort though! Did this make sense? Hope so.
Words: 1.2k
Today was the day. There had been a few times over the past couple of weeks where you’d told yourself that, too, but this was really it.
The note is clutched in your hand as you turn the corner to the correct hallway. One more deep breath and you force your foot to take one step forward.
Anxiety begins to creep up inside of you, threatening to seize your lungs and close your throat. To keep it at bay, you recite what the piece of paper in your grip says, over and over again.
Hi Eddie,
I would’ve asked you in person if I weren’t so shy, but here we are. I was wondering if maybe you would want to go see that new movie The Breakfast Club with me on Friday night? I know that might not be your thing, so I’m down for whatever you might want to do! Just let me know, okay? Maybe in our last period bio. Whenever Old O’Donnell stops droning on. I’ll see you then, I guess!
“Then with a little heart drawn next to my name,” you mumble to yourself.
Your sneakers squeal against the white linoleum tile beneath you as you come to a stop at Eddie’s locker. The silver plate engraved with “527” stares back at you from where it’s soldered to the metal.
With one last deep breath, you fold the letter up as tiny and as flat as you can before you slip it through the slats on the front of the locker door.
Quickly, you turn away from the locker. You keep your head down as you briskly walk towards the corner you came from.
Why are you running away like you’re leaving a crime scene? You ask yourself as you listen to the fast squeak of your shoes on the floor. Afraid someone is going to tell Eddie they saw you put something in his locker? Your name is already on the note, genius!
With a soft groan, you come to a stop and lean against the cool white brick wall just on the other side of the corner. You press your back flush up against the wall and let the chill help calm your body down.
Nothing you can do now, you tell yourself as you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. The note is already in there. Now it’s a waiting game. It’s in Eddie’s hands.
Speak of the devil…
Boots thud against the floor as Eddie heads your way down the hall. His Hellfire shirt looks wrinkled, like he slept in it, but he sports his signature layers of leather jacket and denim vest over it anyway.
You adjust your position against the wall, trying to look more casual than conniption-y. He notices your movement out of the corner of his eye and gives you a small, quick smile that does nothing to help your raging heartbeat calm down.
You flash him a brief smile in return before heading the opposite way, farther away from him and his locker—or so you want him to think.
As soon as Eddie turns the corner to his locker, you spin around and make your way back to where you just were: in the perfect position to peek around the wall and spy from a distance.
Slowly, you stick your head out so you’re able to see around the corner. Eddie is standing at his locker, entering the combination. It looks like he’s whistling, but you’re too far away to hear.
The metal clanks as Eddie swings the locker door open, and you see the small white piece of paper that’s from you floating gently down to the floor. Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion as he crouches down to pick up the note. He slips the piece of paper between his lips to hold it as he shoves his backpack in the locker and pulls out a single yellow notebook.
Once he’s finished and closed the metal door, Eddie tucks his notebook beneath his armpit and removes the paper from his mouth. He unfolds the paper, and your heart feels like it’s unraveling with every motion to open the note.
You watch as his eyes scan your scrawl written in blank ink. Everyone else in the bustling hall disappears. There’s no one but you and Eddie. And the note.
It feels as if it takes Eddie an eternity to read the few lines. Your lungs burn, reminding you to breathe as you await some sort of reaction.
Then, a corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up and your spirit is floating with hope. But the smile turns into a snicker, which turns into a chortle. With the cackling sound, your hope drops down below the hideous linoleum tiles that cover every inch of these halls.
Eddie crumples the note in his hand, and he might as well have done it to your heart. Nausea churns through you, coming on so fast that it’s dizzying. Your hands brace you against the wall, so you don’t fall—even if your legs give out, like they’re threatening to.
Eddie turns so his back is to you and he walks farther away. Parked in front of a window is a janitor’s trash can, which Eddie unceremoniously drops your letter into.
Black spots fill your vision, and you find yourself needing to take giant gulps of air. You are not okay. Escape. That’s what you need.
Sneakers protest their meeting with the linoleum floor once more as you push yourself off the wall and stumble towards the school exit. All the nerves that were previously fluttering around your body before have now turned to shards of glass, scraping and cutting you from the inside with every step you take. The people who had all disappeared when you were so focused on Eddie have now come back with a vengeance, appearing to multiply by the minute as you attempt to squeeze past them all.
The school doors are just at the end of the hall, but your spotty and blurry vision gives you a funhouse effect, making the distance to the door seem longer and more difficult than it is. Finally, your hands land on the silver bar and the biting chill of it brings you back to reality.
Hot tears are streaming down your face and hiccups force their way up your throat every few seconds. Snot is rapidly filling your nose and all you know is that you need to get out of here now.
You push the silver bar and the door opens, leading you into the bitter February morning that was awaiting you. Unfortunately, the first thing you’d done once you got to school was stash your jacket away in your own locker, but you’ll be damned if you step foot back inside that school today. Instead, you grit your teeth and rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt at warmth.
A few yards away, your car sits, beckoning to you. Knowing you’ll finally be able to have the breakdown you so want to in there, you jog in the direction of your parking space, praying the tears flowing down your face don’t freeze against your skin.
Eddie lets the crumpled ball of paper roll off his fingertips and land in the trash can. He can’t believe it. He’s still laughing as he shoves open the door to his homeroom.
“Nice try, Jason,” he murmurs to himself as he finds his seat. “But I’m not falling for that one. Better luck next time.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fic#request
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Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.
He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.
His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.
So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.
It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.
The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.
So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.
He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.
He learned braille.
Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?
So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.
As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.
⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇��⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑
Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date
Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.
Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.
"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.
The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.
He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.
"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"
But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.
Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.
He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.
"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.
Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.
"Can't hear too good."
His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.
Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.
He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.
He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.
Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?
Steve furrows his brows.
I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?
Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.
The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.
Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!
Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.
What did you say? I'd like to know :)
Steve worries his bottom lip.
Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date
He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.
I thought you'd never ask, Steve.
#Some steddie au to soothe soul#canon typical violence for Steve tho#eddie's migraine wear inspired by my migraine wear#we wear sunglasses inside bitch#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#hard of hearing steve harrington#steddie au
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when in london: j.scipio
• rating: NSFW 18+ mature
• pairing: jacob scipio x black!reader
• w.c: 4.7K
• summary: a spontaneous decision led to a passionate evening.
• warning: corny flirting, meet-cute, dual pov, fluff, sexual content: pwp, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, oral sex [f!receiving], brief handjob, Jacob talking you through it energy.
• tips: kofi | paypal – please if you can 🫶🏾.
[Jacob]
The roaring of laughter and buzzing of accumulated chatter was all around you as you tried to focus your eyes on the foods menu that was in front of you. A small frown was etched on your features as you contorted your glossed lips to the side as if you were concentrating on the words of the menu as if it was a study on the arts of culinary.
If he hadn’t been so enamoured by your beauty as you passed him by, he certainly was now. Feeling his staring tittering on the line of being uncomfortable if you caught him, he adjusted his cap and decided to approach you instead.
Typically, Jacob was a man who was able to admire a beautiful woman from afar and continue on his way. However, there were times such as now, where his body felt compelled to act. All he needed was a smile and he would be content.
[You]
There were so many options to choose from and you had been struggling to narrow it all down to only two options. If you had more time, you would have tried to sample as much you can, especially the perfectly curated chef’s specials.
You were so engrossed in exploring the menu that you did not notice someone approach.
“Forgive me for intruding darling but it seems like you’re having some trouble making a decision.” A low and deep voice came from beside you. Immediately, your body stood alert, ready to dismiss whoever it was. However, all fight left you when your eyes collided with the most gorgeous pair of hooded brown eyes that you had ever encountered. Even with the stone-brown coloured cap on, you could note that his head was covered in rich, dark locks and his full beard was neatly trimmed. But it was the small smile on his fully plump lips that had your guard completely crumbling.
He was devastatingly handsome and the fact that he had approached you because he noticed you were taking a little longer than usual when reading the menu had you slightly flushed with embarrassment.
“Yeah.” You sheepishly chuckled as you placed the menu down. “The hotel changes their menu with the seasons, but it seems this time around, all of my staples have either been removed of have had their recipe changed.”
“So now you’re being left with choosing something different.”
You nodded your head in agreement. “Normally, I would have taken this opportunity to just sample as much as I could, but I have to be at an event in about three hours, so I don’t want to over do it.”
The stranger’s smile widened, and you could physically feel your heart swooning.
“May I sit?” He asked.
“Please.” You gestured to the bar stool that was beside you and he took the seat. You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel down his body and noted what he was dressed in. An olive green long-sleeved linen shirt over a white vest that was tucked into what looked like blue Levi denim jeans. When you brought your eyes back to his face, his features felt familiar.
“I feel like I know you from somewhere.” You commented.
“Trust me sweetheart, if we had met before this moment – you would remember who I was.” He smirked. You playfully rolled your eyes, dismissive of his words yet inwardly admitting how they wanted to make you giggle.
“Ha. Ha.” You sarcastically said. “No, like a movie or something but I can’t remember what.”
“I’m an actor.” He spoke. “I’ve been in a couple of things over the past few years. I will say it’s early days of my career though.”
Suddenly, you gasped. “You act as that cute guy in the new Bad Boys films.” You said before you could stop yourself.
Your comment caused him to burst out laughing. “I would prefer Jacob, but I don’t mind being called cute too.” He winked at you which caused your cheeks to warm.
“I’ll stick to Jacob.” You replied as you put forth your hand as you gave you gave him your name in return. “I didn’t know that you were British.”
“Islington born and raised,” Jacob’s face held a sense of pride. “And I can tell from your accent that you’re Northern, but I can’t exactly pinpoint where.”
“A lot of people say that.” You smiled. “But I am from Manchester. The years spent at boarding school wouldn’t take away that twang no matter how much my parents tried.”
“Thank god it didn’t.” Jacob mumbled. You bit your tongue to stop the girlish giggle that wanted to spill out of your mouth.
“Anyway, didn’t you approach me because you wanted to help me choose what to eat?”
“Right.” He nodded his head. “Let’s take a look at this then.” You shared a look, smiling at each other before you passed the menu towards him.
[Jacob]
Your smile was breathtaking.
As much as your conversation was full of marvel and increasing interest, he couldn’t help but always be drawn back to your smile and the joyous sound of your laughter. Your mind was like a labyrinth of knowledge, he had come to find out. You were naturally inquisitive by nature, and it was a quality of that he was beginning to be fond of.
Jacob helped you in choosing a starter of sauteed scallops with garlic butter, lemon and with a parsley garnish. Then for your main entre, a lobster thermidor with a side of truffle fries. As an effort to impress you, he ordered a bottle of vintage Veuve Clicquot Rose. A favourite of yours that you had admitted that you only ordered once in a full moon.
On the last pour of the champagne, you had the softest pout on your lips.
“A good bottle like that is meant to softly enjoyed and we finished it all in an hour and a half.” You commented.
“Well sweetheart. How about, when you come back from your event, I’ll be here, waiting to finish this conversation with another bottle. How does that sound?” Jacob boldly asked you. At some point during your dinner, you had detailed that you had come down to London because you had been invited to an album release party of a friend. However, as the night progressed, the more that he was enjoying spending time in your presence, and he could tell that you felt the same.
“Actually, what are you doing with the rest of your evening?” You asked him as you nervously chewed on your bottom lip. Jacob leaned forward and brought his elbows onto the table.
“What do you have in mind darling?” He raised his eyebrow as he watched you also lean closer, and you placed your hands underneath your chin.
“What do you think about joining me for the rest of the night?” Jacob couldn’t help but grin at your question. He didn’t understand why you were so nervous to ask as he had been feeling the same. Jacob had not wanted this night to end just with sharing dinner hence why he had decided to leave things open ended with his invitation. He was staying on the floor above you, and he had conjured up a plan in his mind to use his small, heated pool that was on his balcony to his advantage when you came back from your event.
And now, you had answered his silent prayers.
“For you I’d do anything.” He answered which caused your eyes to slightly widen as a glint of mischief settled in your eyes. It wasn’t there for long, but it lingered long enough for him to catch it.
“Don’t say that to me.” You hid your glee behind biting your lip.
“And why is that?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Because I require a lot and you saying that you’ll do anything for me is just being a tease.” You confessed as you dropped your hands and reached for your champagne flute and brought it to your lips.
“If you tell me to do something, I’ll do it. I can handle you.” He licked his lips before a small smirk pulled on his face. The expression of desire that momentarily passed you was all that he needed.
Your fate had been sealed in that very moment.
[You]
The entire car ride to the event, all you kept thinking about was how incredibly spontaneous and probably stupid your actions were. Had you discussed this with your best friends, they most likely would have talked you out of inviting Jacob. You had just met the man, shared a long conversation over an impromptu dinner and now he was your plus one to a closed event. Yeah, your friends would have been screaming and throwing all types of cautionary flags your way.
And yet, the hopeful romantic within you simply couldn’t ignore how much of a spark was ignited between you and Jacob. The way your conversation just flowed from topic to topic. He didn’t seem put off by your ramblings of your multiple interests, in fact, he would courage you more by asking questions and it left you feeling giddy.
So, you were leaving it to chance. Sharing this night with this perfect stranger and if it turned into something, even better but if it ended with just tonight then so be it. You were going to enjoy the time you spent with each other.
When you arrived at the event, Jacob offered his arm for you to link with and you gladly took it. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.
“I know I’ve said this already, but you look absolutely stunning tonight.” His words and his breath brushing against your ear sent a shiver down the length of your spine.
“Thank you.” You replied cooly as you looked at him. Then you tried to focus on walking on steady feet past the crowds of fans outside of the venue. You waved at some people who shouted your name as they recognised you from your large social media platform. Once you were in the building, you ventured your way through the crowd towards your friend, who was stationed by the DJ booth.
You shared a tight hug and when she pulled away from you, she eyed Jacob, who was behind you talking to someone he seemed familiar with.
“And who is that gentleman with you?” She playfully wiggled her eyebrows which caused you to giggle.
“He’s my date for the evening.” You vaguely explained. She gave you a knowing smirk.
“Okay girl, I see you. He’s cute.” She winked and in turn, you rolled your eyes even though a small smile was on your face. After a few more greetings, you went back to Jacob who was now holding onto two glasses.
“I got you a Paloma. I hope that’s okay.” He said as he handed you the beverage.
“That’s perfect, thank you.” You took a sip and savoured the taste, humming softly as the flavours burst on your tongue. You hadn’t realised your eyes had closed until you opened them and met Jacob’s gaze. It was intense and it left you flustered. You wanted to avert your attention to somewhere else but like a compulsion, it held you captive.
“So, I saw you talking to some people.” You sparked conversation.
“Yeah, I’ve bumped into some people I’ve met within the industry.”
“I forget how much music and film intertwine.”
Jacob nodded his head in agreement. “Especially if it’s people who are behind the scenes. We just pick what job you can get and do so you meet a lot of people. I tend to make it a point to learn people’s names and get along with them. In the industry, your reputation gets you a lot further than people think.”
“It’s the same with content creation. I try to do the same even if I never meet some of the same people again but it’s that word of mouth that can open doors for you.”
“Exactly.” Just as he was about to continue further, the DJ started playing Alibi by Sevdaliza.
“Oh, this is my song!” You exclaimed. “Come dance with me.” You did not give him a chance to answer as you grabbed his empty hand dragged him towards the dance floor with him chuckling behind you.
[Jacob]
He was trying to be a gentleman.
He really was.
He stood by your side the entire event, bought all your drinks and danced with you – keeping his hands in the appropriate places.
However, as your friend’s sultry music blasted through the speakers, the more your inhibitions faltered. You were pressed against him – back to his chest with your head on his shoulder with one arm thrown over his head. At this point, his cap was backward so that he could get closer to you. His hands were still by his side as he swayed along with you to the melodious music.
“You can touch me you know.” You mumbled into his ear. His light chuckle vibrated against your skin which made you shiver, and he felt it.
“I was trying to be respectful.” He replied.
“There you go again with your teasing language.” He saw the corners of your mouth lift and your body shake with light laughter. “Tell me what you really wanted to say.”
Jacob took in a deep breath and let one hand come to your waist. “I didn’t want to touch you because I knew once I felt your skin beneath my fingertips, I wouldn’t be able to stop touching you.”
“Hmmm, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Because it is, sweetheart. I’m a hard man to get rid of.” His hand trailed up your stomach and settled just beneath your breast, the other came to the exposed part of your skirt and he heard your gasp. The sound made his chest swell with pride. “Turn around.”
Your body immediately shifted in his arms. You pressed your forehead against his and he rested his hands on the lower part of your back and pulled you closer into his body.
“Permission to speak freely.” He mumbled lowly but you heard him clearly and his statement made you giggle.
“Permission granted.”
“I’ll admit that as soon as you entered the lobby, I noticed you and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you. Everything about your aura just captivated me and there was this pull, and I couldn’t ignore it. Then I saw you with your cute little pout as you read the menu, I just knew I had to talk to you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Then you softly continued to dance, your bodies close as the music consumed you, but your scent engulfed him. Everything about you was hard to ignore and the more he felt your body, the harder it was to suppress his desires. Then you moved your leg so that it was in between his and he couldn’t stop you in time to feel the physical manifestation of his yearning.
You lifted your eyes to meet his. The carnal pools of ardour, so strong that sank deep into his veins, he held you by the neck to stop himself from devouring you right then and there.
“Take me back to the hotel.” You whispered against his lips.
[You]
By the time you arrived back at the hotel, your body was charged. You felt like you were on fire and the only person that could out it out was walking beside you with his arm around your waist. Then you slowly came to a halt in front of the hotel room door.
“You got the key?” He mumbled the question into your ear. You bit your lip, nodding your head as you brought the card out. Jacob shifted so that he was standing behind you. A shiver ran down your back and settled in your abdomen as his hands rubbed on the sides of your waist.
“Do you need me to open the door baby?” He softly spoke into your ear.
“No.” You cleared your throat as you swiped the card and the door unlocked. As you entered further into the room, the only lights that were on were the dimly lit lamps and whilst you could tell that that it was a beautiful suite, you were focused on the man that was behind you.
Jacob left you standing in the open space as he made sure that the door was locked and then he made his way back to you.
“Want me to put some music on?” He muttered. You shook your head from side to side in response. “What do you want?”
“I want you to kiss me.” You whispered. He closed the space that was in between you and cradled your face in the palms of his hands. You giggled as he stared down at you with a darkened gaze that held so much promise. You leaned up and grazed his bottom lip which caused the corner of his mouth to quirk upwards and you were not ashamed to feel the hunger that was bubbling to the surface. Without waiting for another moment, Jacob leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.
The feel of his mouth against yours was so much better than you imagined. His lips were so soft but his motion was forceful as he took control, kissing you as if your breath was his last. You moaned into the kiss as his hands travelled down your back to your ass. The softest whimper left your lips as he cupped and kneaded the rounded flesh.
“I like the sound of that.” Jacob whispered as he took off his cap and threw it on the ground before he moved to discarding his linen shirt. Just as your cropped t-shirt was off your body, he pulled you back into his body and captured your lips once more. “Jump.” He mumbled against your lips and you followed his instruction.
When you got to the bed, Jacob softly laid you down, never parting from the burning kiss that was melting you from the inside out. Passion controlled your moment as you stripped each other bare until you were left in just your underwear. You barely had any time to marvel at his physique before his body was covering yours again, landing his lips on yours once more before he turned his attention to your neck as he covered your chest with his large hands. Jacob flicked your nipples with his thumbs causing you to moan and arch into his palms.
“That feels so good.” You moaned and your eyes flattered open just enough to catch his smirk. Without words, he answered you by trailing lips further down onto your chest until one of your nipples was in his mouth and he suckled on it. He soothed the acute pain from the sucking with a flattened tongue and then he moved his mouth to your other nipple. The stimulation caused something fierce to pool in between your thighs. You squirmed beneath him as he paid beautiful attention to your chest. One nipple in your mouth and the other was kept trapped in between his fingers.
As your desire began to dampen your thighs, your need for friction was increasing. So you pushed him away and you softly kissed him as you ran your fingers down the contours of his torso until you wrapped your hand around the base of his girth. Jacob groaned as you tugged at him. He felt so hard, warm and thick in your palm and your mouth was salivating for a taste.
Just as you were about to shift downward, Jacob took your hand away from his dick and pushed you back until your back was on the sheets. He was on his knees in between your parted legs and you were finally able to look over his wonderful stature. His smooth, golden tanned skin. His chiselled, muscular build. He was perfectly sculpted and he was all yours.
Fuck, you were getting wetter just looking at him.
Your walls clenched around nothing as he placed chaste kisses on your stomach. “Tell me what you need Sweetheart.” He breathed against your skin.
You lifted your upper body onto your elbows and looked down at him. Those dark, hooded eyes were staring back up at you as he grabbed your ankle and lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed the other wider apart, taking in your glistening pussy. He unconsciously licked his lips as his fingers began to explore, parting your lips, letting the cool air in the room brush against you. You gasped as his thumb pressed on your swollen nub and you nearly buckled but you kept steady.
“You haven’t told me yet.” He taunted with a devilish smirk on his face as his fingers didn’t stop their exploration.
“I want you to eat my pussy Jacob.” You breathlessly let out as your wetness coated his fingers.
“Good girl.” He murmured with a wink before he dropped his head and pt his lips on exactly where you needed him the most.
You were not prepared for the way his tongue felt against your clit. Just as he did to your nipples, he did to your sensitive bud, adding the flick of his tongue.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned as your eyes closed and you fell back onto the pillow. Your hand shot down and ran through his black curls, pulling him closer to your hot core.
He paid attention to what was making you moan, what was making you sigh and what was causing your back to arch. He paid attention to your pleasure and that turned you on even more.
“You taste so good, baby.” Jacob groaned into you. As the vibration travelled through you, he pushed two fingers into your pussy and a sob broke out of you. Your hips rocked into his mouth as he curled his digits just enough to brush against your perfect spot. Your hands moved away from his body and gripped on the sheets as you panted. Your skin was beginning to dampen with your sweat as your orgasm quickly rose within you.
“Baby I’m gonna –.” You gasped a your hips moved faster with the pace of his fingers. The burn of his beard against your cunt added onto the sensation. “Right fucking there!”
Jacob didn’t move from the position that he was in.
You didn’t know if it was the way he was sucking and flicking his tongue on your clit or the accumulation of it all but your eyes scrunched shut as you finally climaxed. The intensity of it was so overwhelming, for a moment, all you could hear was white nose and the sound of your racing heart.
In your haze, you hadn’t felt the bed shift until Jacob came back. You felt his fingers against your cheek and then you opened your eyes.
“You okay?” He softly asked as if he had not just given you one of the best orgasms of your life.
“I’m more than okay.” You mumbled with a grin. Slowly, you opened your eyes to the picture of lust staring down at you. Hovering above you, Jacob leaned down and kissed you, pushing his tongue into your mouth. The reminisce of your essence, lingering on his lips. So dirty and had your pussy pulsating.
You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth which caused him to groan. As the kiss deepened with more frenzy, he climbed back on top of you. With your focus on his mouth, you heard the rustling of a packet. You pulled your mouth away long enough to watch Jacob rip the condom packet open and put it on.
Once he was done, he brought your legs to his waist.
“You ready for me, baby?” He asked.
“Mhm.” With a soft peck to your lips, he guided himself into you.
You both shared a moan.
“Oh my god.” Jacob was stretching every inch of you, the deeper he sank in. You were trying to keep your eyes open, to savour his reaction but he just felt so good.
“Baby.” You whimpered. He took your knee and put your leg back onto his shoulder which sunk him even deeper.
“So fucking tight.” He moaned. You watched his face for his reactions. The slight furrow of his eyebrows, the droplets of sweat beginning to slide down his forehead, the slight parting of his lips as he focused on his strokes.
“Please.” You whispered as you clenched around him.
“I knew you’d be perfect.” He mumbled against your lips. Jacob slowly pulled out and gave you one hard thrust. Your eyes widened with a loud gasp escaping you as he repeated the action.
A scream left you as he slowly set the pace of his strokes.
As the waves of pleasure rippled through your body, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoed through the room.
“Uuuhhh.” You choked on your whines as he pounded harder into you. You couldn’t shake the feeling of him burying himself inside so deep of you, over and over. The arousal overshadowed the pain of the stretch of his girth – the bittersweet feeling leaving you in a dizzy spell.
“Look at me.” Jacob growled as he put your other leg onto his shoulder and dug deeper. Through blurry vision, you looked at the man above you.
You had expected Jacob to be an expert lover but you never thought that he would be so dominating.
He hit one of your spots which caused your eyes to cross.
“There you go.” He licked his lips, chuckling. “Tell me how it feels.”
“So big…” You moaned
“Mhm.”
“So fucking deeep.”
“You’re so fucking wet baby, I gotta make sure I don’t slip out.”
“Oh shhiitt.” You whined, a loud moan quickly following after as he increased the pace. In your delirious state, you managed to catch him grinning down at you.
“Baby!” You hisses as you wrapped your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your head.
“You should have picked up on it now sweetheart, you gotta tell me what you want.”
His hips were moving faster, the slapping of his thighs against yours added more stimulation to your clit.
“I need to come.” You whimpered.
“You need to or you’re going to?”
“I’m going to come!”
“That’s it.” He leaned down, folding you even more so that he could kiss you. Jacob moved your legs from his shoulders and held them apart spread-eagle, giving you slower and longer strokes with an added roll to his hips. His tip was smoothly rubbing against your sweet spot.
The tightness in your stomach quickly took hold and your legs began to tremble. You wee left breathless at the overwhelming intensity of the ecstasy building inside of you.
“I can feel it coming, baby. You’re squeezing me so nice and tight.” Jacob groaned as his eyes rolled softly. “You gonna come for me?’ He asked. But you were too far gone to give a verbal answer so you just frantically nodded her head.
The tight coil quickly snapped and your body seized.
“That’s a good girl. So fucking good.” Jacob groaned. “Come all over my dick, soak that shit.” He spoke through your orgasm and all you could do was grip onto the sheets tighter as wave after wave swarmed your body. He didn’t stop moving his hips and with your quaking, it forced his peak to rise to the surface before his climax overcame him. With a loud moan, Jacob collapsed onto your chest as he filled the condom.
You hugged his body and ran your fingers through his damp hair. You could still feel the tremors of your orgasm as you laid beneath him. The both of you completely satiated and spent.
Finally, Jacob rolled off you and laid by your side. In silence, all you could hear was your heavy breathing.
“Fucking hell Mr Scipio.” You spoke up. “Can I have my soul back?” Your question caused Jacob to burst out laughing, eventually you joined him in the laughter.
“We have three more condoms left sweetheart.” He licked his lips before he turned his head to look at you. “So I won’t be giving you back your soul just yet.”
reading list: @fineanddandy @marzzrambles @murrylove @mineymak @lovedlover @planetblaque @deja-r @kiraonthegooo @apimp-named-slickback @playgurlxoxo @gojosbabyma @heytaewrites @leilaxaliel @dyttomori @tasteofmyrainboe @livvy-lovess @violetmuses @jeanellepatrice @kaisage45 @planetnique @adriennegabriella @deborahspalace @jadawada1z @delusionalbutterfly @msdmc1 @probablyintensemuses @stucklikeglue6 @reci1996 @muglermami @hereiheal @aisharmi @jasvishaawrites @lewisroscoelove @klaussstilinski @avoidthings @g1oba1-s1ore
#mauvecherie writes#when in london:one shot#jacob scipio#jacob scipio x black!reader#jacob scipio x black reader#jacob scipio x reader#jacob scipio x you#jacob scipio x yn#jacob scipio x y/n#jacob scipio fanfiction#jacob scipio fanfic#jacob scipio one shot#jacob scipio imagine#armando aretas#armando x reader
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flamin’ hot lemon — lhs
bf!heeseung x gf!reader
warnings: established relationship, suggestive (blowjob— minors dni), kissing/making out?, petnames (baby), lowcases written
wc: 3.8k~
synopsis: you know how the saying goes… save a horse, ride a cowboy… or do something about it as long as it’s saving the horse…
now listen to: flamin’ hot lemon — jaehyun
a/n: now. this song was on repeat ever since the release so obviously, it had to happen as i remembered the sweet venom stage— also ! first time writing smth that’s like not fluff / small suggestive and actually going almost all the way in but well, this was heavily saved by my beloved precious @ja3yun — a big round of applause cause without her this fic would’ve never seen the daylight 🙂↕️ anyway, feedbacks & constructive criticism is appreciated ✌🏻
ps. my wife said to make it clear there won’t be a part two so i’m saying it — there won’t be a part too.
you blink. and then you blink again, and again, and again as if each time you won’t be met with the same view, thinking it must be your eyes playing tricks with you.
“baby? you okay?” heeseung asks, a slight hint of worry in his eyes though his tone gives him away. he knows. of course, he knows why you’re suddenly speechless, staring at him as if he came out of your shared bedroom completely naked.
your mouth parts, forming an “o” as you try to wrap your mind around the view before you. and what a beautiful view… there he stands, your boyfriend, in all his denim-clad cowboy glory.
the fitted jacket hugs his frame in all the right places, highlighting his broad shoulders and the way the jeans cling to his legs is almost unfair. a silver belt attached to his jeans that accentuates his pretty tiny waist. and of course, the most important part of it all, the cowboy-denim hat that sits low on his head, casting a shadow over his mischievous eyes.
you knew you were going to match — a cowboy always has to have his cowgirl after all. you have the perfect blend of casual and playful; a fitted, deep red plaid button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just above your elbows, high-waisted denim shorts that hug your hips perfectly, a fringed brown suede vest that you wear over your shirt, and a pair of scuffed-up cowboy boots completing your whole look.
“yn?” he smirks, his voice low as he takes a slow step toward you. “cat got your tongue?”
you blink again, the heat rising in your cheeks as your brain scrambles to catch up. your mind isn’t cooperating with you, struggling to string together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. you try to focus, but the way heeseung is standing there — all cocky and confident in that ridiculously attractive cowboy outfit — has your nerves completely scrambled.
“i- what… what is this?” you finally manage to stutter, gesturing vaguely toward his outfit. the words feel clumsy on your tongue, your heart pounding a little too loudly in your chest.
heeseung chuckles softly, his hands casually resting on his hips, the gesture making you even more aware of how well the denim clings to his figure.
“it’s for the party tonight. you like it?” his voice is low, teasing, and you know now that he’s fully aware of the effect he’s having on you.
right, the party. your friends thought it was a brilliant idea to throw a random halloween party even though it wasn’t even remotely close to 31st october, yet, you still agreed without much thought. but now, standing here, facing heeseung like this, it’s hard to focus on anything except how your pulse seems to be dancing under your skin, and how your throat has gone dry.
you try to clear your head, but every time you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach only get worse. heeseung’s eyes don’t leave yours, the playful spark in them making your pulse race even more. his presence feels overwhelming, like the air between you two is thick with electricity.
“i-yeah,” you breathe, swallowing hard. “i just wasn’t expecting… this.”
his smirk deepens, and you catch the slight shift in his expression, a glimmer of amusement mixed with something else—something darker, more intense. “i wanted to surprise you,” he says, his voice soft now, like he’s not just talking about the costume.
and suddenly, you’re acutely aware of how close he’s standing, the warmth radiating off him, the way his fingers brush against your waist as he steps in even closer. you can smell his cologne, something warm and familiar, but tonight it feels different, headier and spicier somehow.
“so, are you surprised?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, as he gently tilts your chin up, his thumb tracing along your jawline.
you nod, your breath hitching in your throat. you’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the way his thumb continues to brush against your skin, but you feel like your heart might just burst out of your chest. everything feels so intense — like the whole room has shrunk to just the two of you.
heeseung leans in, his lips hovering just above yours, and you feel like time slows down. your heart is racing, your entire body tingling with anticipation as his breath mingles with yours. you close your eyes, waiting, wanting.
then, he closes the distance, his lips finally meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss. it’s gentle at first, like he’s testing the waters, but when you respond — when you kiss him back with equal intensity — something shifts. the kiss deepens, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies.
your mind blanks, the only thing you can focus on is the warmth of his lips against yours, the way his hands grip your waist, the way he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. it’s slow but deliberate, filled with a tenderness that has your heart fluttering wildly in your chest.
when he pulls back, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath is slightly uneven, and his lips are curved into a soft smile.
“i think we should head out for the party now…” you say, your voice just slightly louder than a whisper.
humming in response, heeseung’s lips brush your forehead in a featherlight kiss before he straightens, his hands reluctantly sliding from your waist. “right,” he says, his voice hushed and warm, though there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “wouldn’t want to keep the party waiting.”
by the time you reach your friend’s hourse, it’s buzzing with life. you can hear the thumping bass of music before you even reach the front door, the muffled sound of laughter and voices spilling out onto the porch. the house is decked out in full halloween glory — orange and purple lights drape across the front yard, casting an eerie glow over the hay bales and fake tombstones scattered across the lawn. a giant inflatable skeleton waves ominously from the roof, its eyes flickering red.
the inside of the house is even more chaotic. there are people everywhere, dressed in every kind of costume imaginable — witches, zombies, vampires, superheroes — filling the space with laughter and energy. the smell of caramel apples and popcorn mingles with the unmistakable scent of candy and punch, and the air is thick with excitement.
heeseung’s hand tightens slightly around yours as you weave through the crowd, his thumb still brushing against your skin in that comforting way you love so much. you catch glimpses of familiar faces as you move deeper into the house, waving at people you know from classes as you pass. everyone seems to be caught up in the pre-halloween spirit, and the atmosphere is electric, a blend of fun chaos and easygoing joy.
you suddenly spot jay, his cowboy hat cocked at a ridiculous angle, standing with his girlfriend, aejay, by the snack table. jay is in a flannel shirt and boots, looking like he stepped straight out of a western, while aejay rocks a sleek, edgy vampire costume — her dark lips and red contacts making her look both elegant and slightly dangerous. they’re laughing about something, jay’s arm slung casually around her shoulders.
when jay catches sight of you and heeseung, his grin widens. “well, well, look who finally decided to show up!” he calls, raising his red solo cup in greeting. “and look at you, heeseung, pulling off that cowboy look like you were born for it.”
heeseung grins back, tugging you closer as you approach. you laugh, shaking your head. “is this some kind of cowboy reunion?” you ask when you reach the couple and eye jay more intently in his flannel and boots.
jay smiles and nods, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “we thought it’d be funny. jake should be around here somewhere too, dressed as that cowboy character from toy story.
heeseung immediately perks up, avid fan of the toy story movies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you mean woody?”
jay snickers, already sensing where this is going.
“well,” heeseung says, glancing at you with a mischievous grin, “looks like jake’s the only one buzzing with excitement tonight.” he leans closer to you, voice dropping to a playful whisper. “but don’t worry, baby — i’m no toy. you don’t have to pull my string to get me talking. however, you can pull on something else…”
you roll your eyes, groaning at the cheesy, suggestive line, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “heeseung,” you laugh, nudging him in the side, “let’s just hope jake doesn’t take the woody too seriously tonight.”
jay bursts out laughing at that, and even heeseung’s eyes crinkle with amusement.
the four of you chat for a while, catching up amidst the hum of the party. aejay, always the life of any gathering, starts telling a dramatic story about how she had to battle three different costume stores to get the perfect set of vampire fangs. jay interrupts her every few seconds, adding his own exaggerated spin to the tale, making you laugh until your stomach hurts.
the lights are dim, casting everyone in a soft, warm glow, and the air is filled with the scent of sugar and cinnamon, along with the occasional burst of cold air from the open back door.
it’s a perfect kind of chaos—the kind where time seems to slow down and you’re acutely aware of every moment, every laugh, every smile. but most of all, you’re aware of heeseung’s presence beside you, his hand never leaving yours, his arm wrapping around your waist every so often, like he can’t bear to be too far away from you.
you keep stealing glances at him, your eyes tracing over the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his denim jacket fits perfectly across his broad shoulders.
you bite your bottom lip, unable to comprehend how this ridiculously handsome man is yours. every time you look at him, an involuntary expression of satisfaction and adoration spreads across your face. that’s right, he is yours.
sensing your stare, heeseung leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear in that soft, teasing way that always makes your heart race. “having fun?” he asks, his voice low and intimate, like a secret meant only for you.
you look up at him, your heart fluttering in your chest as you meet his gaze. his eyes are dark, full of warmth, and something else — something that sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. you nod, feeling your breath hitch slightly. “yeah,” you whisper, smiling softly. “i’m having a lot of fun.”
heeseung grins at your response, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. the heat between you feels tangible, like the rest of the crowded room has melted away, leaving just the two of you. “good,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.
then, he leans back just enough to look into your eyes, his fingers grazing your chin. with a gentle touch, he tilts your head up towards him, his thumb brushing across your skin as he smiles, his voice dipping even lower. “wanna have even more fun?”
the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker with mischief, makes your pulse quicken. you can feel the air between you both shift, thick with anticipation, and all you can think about is how close his lips are to yours, how effortlessly he seems to set your whole world spinning with just a look.
heeseung’s grin deepens as he holds your gaze, his fingers still resting gently under your chin. you feel the tension change between the two of you. his face has written trouble all over it and, without another word, he gently grabs your hand, forgetting about your friends and starts tugging you through the crowd with that easy confidence you love so much.
“where are we going?” you ask, your heart racing in your chest, excitement swirling inside you as you follow him down the dimly lit hallway.
heeseung glances back at you, that signature playful smirk tugging at his lips. “wouldn’t you like to know?” he says, his voice teasing.
before you can ask another question, he stops in front of the bathroom door, pushing it open slightly and pulling you inside with him. the moment the door clicks shut, the noise of the party fades into a distant hum, leaving just the two of you together in the small space.
your back presses gently against the bathroom counter and heeseung leans in, his hands bracing on either side of you, caging you in, his eyes dark with a playful intensity. he doesn't say anything for a moment — just looks at you, his gaze roving over your face like he's taking his time, savouring the way you're biting your bottom lip, the way your breath catches every time he gets a little closer.
"you’ve been staring at me all night," he murmurs, his lips brushing just barely against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "got something on your mind, baby?"
your cheeks burn as his words settle over you, but you can't stop the grin that threatens to split your cheeks. "maybe," you tease back, your hands instinctively finding their way to the front of his denim jacket, your fingers toying with the fabric.
heeseung’s eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "you know," he says softly, his voice laced with amusement, "if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask."
you laugh, the sound light and breathless, your body buzzing with anticipation. "oh, i’ve had your attention all night," you counter, your voice just as teasing, leaning in closer, your lips grazing his jaw. "haven’t i?”
his breath hitches slightly at the contact, his arms tightening around you. "yeah, you have," he admits, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper, like it's just for you. "but now... i think I want a little more."
your heart skips a beat at his words, your pulse thrumming wildly in your chest. heeseung leans in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours, close enough.
your heart races as heeseung’s lips hover close to yours, the tension between you thick and electric. the space around you seems to shrink, and the air feels warmer, heavier, with anticipation. his breath mingles with yours, and you're maddeningly aware of how close his body is to yours, how his hands on either side of you are steady, but his eyes — his eyes tell you he's barely holding back.
your hands tighten their grip on the front of his jacket, pulling him closer still, your breath dancing with his. the sound of your heartbeat thrums in your ears, loud and steady, as you resist the urge to close the gap between you immediately. instead, you let the tension simmer, savouring the way it builds and swells in the space between you both.
"i want to give you something," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
heeseung raises an eyebrow, his eyes dark with curiosity and desire, but his smirk never falters. "yeah?" he murmurs, his lips just a breath away from yours, his hand gently sliding down your arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. "what’s that, baby?"
you bite your lip, your pulse quickening. "a little reward," you tease, your voice playful yet laced with intent.
his grip on your waist tightens slightly, and you can feel the tension in his body as he leans in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "i like the sound of that," he whispers, his voice low and rough.
you grin, your heart racing, and slowly, you let your fingers slide down from his jacket to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. "but," you say, tilting your head up just enough so your lips graze his jaw, "you'll have to be patient."
heeseung groans softly, his head dipping forward until his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and uneven. "you’re killing me," he mutters, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone, like he's enjoying this playful back-and-forth as much as you are.
"patience," you repeat, your fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines down his chest, your touch light enough to drive him crazy.
heeseung chuckles, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth, his voice thick with both amusement and frustration. "you’re really gonna make me wait?"
looking up at him through your lashes, the smile on your lips is playful but knowing. "i think it'll be worth it," you say, your voice teasing, and you lean up to press a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth
his lips press back against yours, but before he can deepen the kiss, you pull away, your smile widening at the quiet groan of protest he makes. heeseung’s hands tighten on your waist, and his eyes meet yours with a mix of desire and amusement, like he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's more than willing to play along.
you tilt your head slowly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. before heeseung can even register what's happening, you drop to your knees, the cool bathroom floor sending a brief shiver through you. when you look up at him, his breath catches, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.
his hands, which had been resting on the counter behind you, grip the edge tightly now, knuckles white with tension. his gaze locks with yours, dark and full of surprise, anticipation, and something deeper. you can see the way his chest rises and falls, his breath coming faster as the realisation of your bold move settles in.
"y/n." heeseung breathes out, his voice rough, like he's struggling to keep control. his eyes flicker between your face and the space between you, his hands twitching as if unsure of whether to stop you or let you continue. but his body betrays him — he's frozen in place, caught between disbelief and desire.
you bite your lip, leaning closer, your fingers lightly grazing the fabric of his jeans. "shh," you whisper, your eyes never leaving his. the power shift between you both is palpable, the air between you charged with intensity.
you can see the effect you're having on him-the way his breath hitches, his muscles tensing under your touch, the raw hunger in his gaze as he watches your every move.
for a moment, you both just stay there, the silence in the small bathroom heavy and thick with expectancy. heeseung’s jaw clenches, his hands still gripping the counter as he lets out a shaky breath. his lips part as if to speak, but no words come out, just another sharp inhale as he watches you, eyes hooded and dark with want.
but instead of taking things further, you pull back just slightly, your teasing smile widening. "still want me to keep going?" you ask, your voice soft but dripping with playful intent, leaving him on the edge of anticipation.
heeseung’s grip loosens for a moment, and he lets out a low, breathless chuckle, his voice hoarse. "you’re really not playing fair, are you?"
you wink at him and moisturise your lips. a feel of rage and desire rushes to heeseung’s limbs as you free his now hard dick. your hands wrap around the base of his dick and you stroke him with a rotating motion. a small gasp escapes your boyfriend’s lips as a zap of pleasure shoots down his spine.
heeseung’s fingers sink into you hair, gathering it in a ponytail, and then yanking you back not so smoothly. you look back at him, eyelashes batting and lips forming a pout. “let me have a taste, please.”
and who is heeseung to say no to you? he stares at you as you slide his length into your hot, wet mouth, the tip of him disappearing past your lips as you continue pumping him at the base slowly, your grip tightening gradually.
your movements are slow, teasing and sensual. you peek up at your boyfriend through your lashes the whole time, watching his reactions, relishing in each moan and hiss — loving the effect you have on him.
suddenly, heeseung tugs you away gently, his fingers tangled in the makeshift ponytail he created, his eyes dark but steady as they meet yours. his lips curl into a teasing smirk as he watches you spread his precum across your lips. his thumb lightly brushes your bottom lip, and his breath hitches for a moment.
"why did you stop me?" you ask, your voice soft but with a hint of frustration, groaning slightly at the abrupt interruption.
his grip tightens ever so slightly around your arms as he pulls you up to stand, his expression shifting from playful to something more serious, yet still burning with desire.
“we’re leaving the party now, get up.” he says firmly, voice low and commanding.
you frown at first, confused by the sudden shift, but before you can question him, he's already pulling you closer, his hands gripping your elbows as he makes sure you're steady on your feet. his eyes soften as he sees your confused, slightly hurt expression, and his lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“no, no, baby. i loved it, i love you” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “ but we’re doing things my way now. let’s go home.”
a playful smile spreads across your face, and you nod, understanding the promise behind his words. "as long as you wear the hat while fucking me, i’ll go anywhere you want," you tease, your voice playful but full of anticipation.
heeseung chuckles, adjusting the cowboy hat still perched on his head “you really love this costume, don’t you?”
“you know what they say, save a horse… ride a cowboy…” you say in a sing-song voice, winking as you turn around and open the bathroom door to step out.
behind you, heeseung’s deep, booming laughter echoes down the hallway, and you feel his presence close behind as he follows you out. there’s a glint in his eyes, and you can feel the shift in the air, the promise of what's to come.
as you step back into the party, the noise and music barely register. all that's on your mind is heeseung, and judging by the heated look in his eyes, the feeling is mutual. there’s only one thing on his mind as he watches you saunter ahead — tonight, a lot of riding will be involved.
after all, he thinks with a smirk, a lot of horses need saving.
#— 💭 mars ; written work#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung smut#lee heeseung imagines#heeseung smut#heeseung imagines#heeseung scenarios#heeseung x reader#heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts
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Daddy’s babies
pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x shy!mom!reader
summary: Daddy!Henry takes his babies to Disneyland and engages in some soft kissy sex with his baby bun (Dilf!Henry) (softdom!Henry)
likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+
Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“P-please daddy, we want to g-go, don’t we lovebugs?” Y/n cooed sitting on the floor of their living, her baby girl Iris nursing soundly on her breast, the soft suckling sounds and baby gurgles filling the room. Henry sitting behind her, his fingers playing with the loose straps of her vest, peeking over at the sight of his baby princess so close to her momma, his baby boy Beau sat on his boppy across from them; clearly milk drunk from his feeding.
Y/n had spent the past few days begging and begging her husband for a trip to Disneyworld, wanting nothing more than to take hundreds of pictures of her tiny tots in their costumes, buying them all sorts of souvenirs and of course the family costumes. Henry would be lying if he said his attention was fully on her words right now, all he could think of was how huge her breasts had grown these past few months from breastfeeding. God almighty it took him an arm and a leg to keep from squeezing them like a stress ball, even being caught by Y/n herself.
“Sugar butt, they won’t even remember goin’ there, Beau over there doesn’t even remember who I am half the time” Henry chuckled looking to meet his wife’s eyes as she huffed and scooted out of his hold, shuffling over to her baby boy who was near enough asleep after being burped. “F-fine then, you don’t care about us” She whimpered giving him those big doe eyes of hers, even turning around her baby Iris, who she had now given a pacifier to. Her cute little mouth bopping up and down as she suckled on the Disney themed dummy, her big eyes she got from her momma staring right at her daddy. Henry swore his heart clenched right when he saw his baby princess looking at him.
“Y’all n’ your damn eyes, fine”
“H-hen look at the baby c-cots they’re old west themed!” Y/n giggled holding baby Iris to her hip whilst Henry carried Beau on his, sliding in the suitcases with his free arm. “Is it everythin’ ya wanted sugar cube?” He hummed finally locking the hotel room, his arm coming around her waist to bring his daughter and wife closer to his warm broad chest.
“W-we love it, it’s so cute and reminds me of our house” Y/n smiled tilting her head up to press a small wet kiss onto her man’s lips, both babies also reaching for each other cutely, they were absolutely inseparable so thankfully the cots were right by each other. Seeing both of their eyes start to lid, their small voices cooing tiredly, it only seemed right that they put their tots down for the night after a long day of driving and gas stops.
“C’mon over ‘ere momma, ya need your sleep n’ so does daddy” Henry whispered tugging on his wife’s belt loop, pulling her against his chest as they looked over their beautiful miracle gems. “Missed you today ya know” Inhaling her soft fresh scent deeply, he slowly waddled them both towards their huge king size saloon themed bed. “Y-you were with me the w-whole day though” Y/n laughed as Henry softly set her on the sheets, already tugging off her denim flares and black polo crop top. His smile widening as he saw all the new stretch marks she had gained, evidence she had carried their family, their baby gems; a proof of their love.
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, didn’t have your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock or anythin”
“A-and you still can’t, t-this is a family friendly zone” Y/n scolded shimmying herself up the bed only for her to be dragged down by Henry’s hand on her ankles, her puffy pussy coincidentally coming face to face with his eager lips. “We can worry about the family friendliness tomorrow, right now it’s me n’ my gorgeous wife. Think she misses my kissies no? As long as you’re quite n’ don’t wake up the monsters then it’s okay bun”
Slowly peppering small onto her second set of lips, his tongue coaxed through her folds to taste her sweet self; baby bun’s little gasps and stifled moans reverberating through their bodies. “M’already close H-hen, kissy t-too good” Y/n whined knowing how sensitive she was, both emotionally and physically after the journey of a pregnancy she had. “I know you are sweet pea, go on, give your man his treasure”
Within seconds her body was writhing in his hold, her hand over her mouth to make sure she wasn’t being too loud, Henry’s hands clamped around her waist as he slurped up all of her juices. “Y-your turn?” She breathed out sitting up on her elbows, “No baby bun, we can do that another time, time for you to get some sleep” He smiled crawling up on her to kiss her lips softly, with a twinge of tongue just to hear her hum in pleasure.
“You sure?”
“Hundred, now turn over n’ let me spoon my sugar cube”
Both of them now nude under the covers, Henry’s hands skimmed up over her sides and curves, moving up to cup her breasts strongly; hoping to teasingly coax some of her milk out but he knew she’d have been emptied out just from the twins on the road trip. “You did so good today momma, took care of our gems so well you know that? My precious baby bun such a good woman, my woman”
“I L-love you so much H-henry, you’re such a good daddy to t-the babies”
“I love you too Y/n, swear my life on it”
Throughout the night Henry slowly and gently humped his hardened cock against his sleepy wife, hearing her whine and groan until he finally released all over her bare ass, letting her shift back against him before finally drifting off for the rest of the night.
“a-aren’t you two just f-freaking adorable, m-my little chip a-and lumiere” With the two tots propped up on some pillows, in their chip and lumiere costumes from beauty and the beast, Y/n in her pretty yellow dress as Belle and Henry in a blue suit as the beast. The perfect fairytale family in Henry’s words.
“H-Henry get in beside them, now please” Picking up each 8 month old onto each knee, Henry smiled with his canine smile into the phone, both babies showing their gummy smiles in their tiny costumes like the absolute cuties they were. The perfect mix of Henry and his Y/n. “Ok now go put it on a timer n’ get in here sugar butt”
“mhm comin’” Setting up her phone against the table she ran over and perched herself behind Henry, her arms coming around his neck from behind, her red painted lips planted onto his cheek. “Should we get ‘em into the pram and get goin to fantasyland? Get you your well needed pictures n’ souvenirs” Nodding excitedly they strapped both twins into the two seater pram, their costumes thankfully suited to the hot summer weather, with Henry pushing the pram protectively as Y/n linked her arms with his.
“I-isn’t it just magical? Oh wait! We need to g-get them pictures w-with Mickey Hen” Redirecting the stroller to the queue for Mickey, the couple stood in line in each other’s arms, “you alright ma? You look absolutely gorgeous” Swaying their bodies side to side, Henry felt her giggle and laugh against him, twisting her head to the side to press a sweet kiss to his neck. “Y-you’re only sayin’ that cause i-im dressed like Belle”
“Nah no way, I prefer you naked than in a dress and ya know that baby bun” Chuckling they finally moved to the picture spot, with Iris in Y/n’s arms and Beau in Henry’s, each twin cooing happily with their sun hats on with the white sunscreen making their face look painted.
“Baby bun, I- I have a proposition, you can say no if you want but”
“b-but what?” Y/n asked tilting her bead to the side like a happy little puppy, taking off her costume after the long day, Iris and Beau already tucked into their sleep snuggies and in their respective wooden bassinets.
“This is out of the blue, but my uh my mother’s here, she’s seen somethin’ about us bein’ here and she wants to meet Iris and Beau. Well- actually take them off our hands for a few hours to give us some time”
“W-what like now? I-i’ve only met her a few times a-and that was before I was pregnant”
“I know that’s why I wanted to ask you first, we’re a team baby bun, you say no then thats fine, you tell me what you want sugar” Nuzzling his head against hers he felt her exhale before raising her head, that same soft kind look in her eyes.
“I grew up a-always loving my grandparents, I-i’d hate to rob I-Iris and Beau of that. Your m-mother’s lovely, I-I just wish we saw her more often so she k-knew them more” Y/n explained nodding her head with each word, showing that she completely trusted Henry’s mother, she knew how attentive she was with her other grandchildren and she didn’t doubt her for a second with Iris and Beau. Although this would also mean this would be the first time she would be away from her babies for more than an hour, already feeling the dreaded mother’s guilt.
With it already being 5PM and time for dinner a rhythmic knock sounded throughout the room, the newly awoken babies’ eyes curiously looking around the room, their hands wandering in the air frantically. “It’s her sugar, you ready for me to open the door?” Nodding Y/n stood up, wiping her sweaty palms onto her skirt, watching on as Henry’s mother gleefully walked into the room. A pair of purple mickey ears on her head as she instantly reached for Y/n, bringing her in for a hug and an affectionate kiss to the cheek.
“My beautiful daughter in law, you’ve only gotten more beautiful, how I wonder how my son met got you” Henry scoffed muttering a ‘thanks mom’ watching his mother then turn her attention to the two cuties surrounded by pillows on the bed, the both of them looking at her happily almost as if they could feel the love radiating off their grandmother.
“Oh my word, is this my little ittle Iris and Beau, my two precious grandbabies, they are the carbon copy of you Y/n, thank God nothin' like Henry. With that scowl always on his face" Marianne whispered tickling their little stomachs, quickly taking out the mini mickey ears she had gotten just for them, a pink and blue sequinned set.
“Aww t-thank you, t-though I’m thankful they g-got the cleft chin from H-henry” Y/n laughed seeing Henry pick up Beau and Iris, letting her have her fair share of snuggles of each baby Cavill, the newest additions so far to the family. “Ma are ya sure you’re able to handle these two little monsters, they can be quite a handful but we’ve already packed everythin’ ya need in this baby bag” Buckling them into their stroller, Henry tucked the baby bag into the underneath of the stroller, his mother excitedly clapping and exclaiming how excited she was to spend the next few dinner hours with her grandchildren.
“Henry boy, av’ raised 5 boys I think I can handle two more angels, especially if they’re like Y/n”
“Well most of the time they are, curious little things really, but deprive ‘em of the booby milk and it gets scary” Henry laughed as Y/n scolded him, hugging his mother one last time as she brought the babies to her hotel room, deciding the easiest option was to order in room service since all they had was simple baby foods and milk.
Meanwhile Y/n had a new feeling in her stomach, a feeling of guilt for simply letting her “newborn” babies go despite them edging the ninth month. Her goosebumps wouldn’t let down, her legs shaking as Henry shuffled around the room to prepare a hot warm bath for them both, a well deserved one at that. “Baby bun ya ready to come in n’ join me?” Henry called in from the tall ceiling bathroom, waiting eagerly to watch his nude wife in all her glory.
“a-am coming now” She called seeing her husband engulfed in a multitude of purple and pink bath bubbled, his hand outstretched to help her into the tub. His hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as she sat between his legs, the water sloshing once she sat back against his snug wide chest. “What’s goin up in that pretty mind o’ yours beautiful, you look busied”
“D-Do you think i-it’s bad that I let t-the babies go w-with your mom so easily? I f-feel guilty for being away from them for so l-long”
“what? Is that what you’ve been tinkerin’ about? You’re the best wife n’ mother on the goddamn planet, the way you pour your love and affection into everythin’ you do, no one could ask anything more from you. You’re absolutely perfect baby bun, my little sugar cube is the best” Henry whispered against her ear, his voice growling towards the end as his lips attached to her neck and shoulders, kissing it passionately while her head rolled back onto his shoulder. His strong burly arms wrapped around her midsection, one of his hands sneaking up to circle her nipples with his finger, eyes staring as he watched them harden.
“Y-you really think so?” Bun replied looking up at him, her doubting thoughts quickly dissolving once he pecked her nose adorably, each of her breasts in one of his hands. “I know so, now sit your pretty little self back n’ let daddy take care of everythin’ alright momma?”
Settling herself back comfortably basking in his radiating body heat, his hands reaching under the water to touch her sensitive clit, his soft hoarse voice hushing her anytime she let out anything louder than a squeal.
“This ok baby?”
“mhm f-feels so freakin’ good” Henry’s lips stayed pressed to her temple as his palm rubbed on her clit, his ring and middle finger already teasing her hole with soft pillowy thrusts, just enough for her hips to thrust themselves upwards clearly wanting more. “I can feel you gettin’ close bunbun, ya wanna finish here or in the bedroom, or both?”
“B-both?”
That was all the confirmation Henry needed for his fingers to thrust his fingers in frantically, her sensitive nub consistently making contact with his palm to bring her to finish, his other free hand that was holding her up was now holding her jaw to turn her head towards him. His lips pursing onto hers, to suck her tongue into his mouth, tasting her cherry lipstick. “God I love kissin these lips of yours, so beautiful n’ sexy”
Not even letting her reply as her orgasm washed over her, his finger repeatedly fucking her entrance while his other hand now reached down to rub her clit like a feral beast, her body shaking crazily as she rode out her high. “Aww my pretty sugar butt, you always get me so fuckin’ hard whenever you look at me like that”
His thumb brushed under her lips, her eyes looking dazed and happy as she happily nuzzled back up straight to sit closer to him.
“This okay? Or do you want it tied up as well?” Turning off the hairdryer, Henry continued to softly brush through bun’s hair as best as possible, trying to alleviate her head of worries about their babies (even though his mother just sent them a picture of them suckling on their pre-made bottles)
“I-I want it in-in a braid” Nodding Henry got the strands of hair ready, looking at her lovingly through the mirror, her eyes closed peacefully with her wearing nothing but one of his white vests. Taking his time to get the braid perfect he tied it off with a little tie and carried her up to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers to help her get settled in before he slid in beside her.
This would be their first night without the babies’ interruption.
“You wanna jus’ go to bed sugar? or-“
“No. I-I want this” Confidently she reached down and started stroking his hardened cock which was already laying against her thighs, biting her lip she shuffled forward to hook one arm around his neck as he took some of his precum and used it to lube up her pussy, small gasps leaving her at the erotic act. None of them speaking any words but the amount of love and passion in their eyes was obvious, her tits popping out from the sides of his vest as it was clearly ten sizes too big.
“Just gonna take it slow with you sweetpea, make love with ya until my pretty sugar falls asleep”
With her arms now wrapped around his torso, her head directly above his heart, Henry slipped in his cock into her warm wet pussy, both of them gasping out at the amazing sensation. “So soft n’ warm” He whispered kissing her pouty lips passionately, their tongues meeting in a wet kiss as both their hips rolled against each other. Henry’s hand lifted up her thigh to place it over his waist, his fingers tracing over the stretch marks now littering her thighs and lower stomach, even her breasts. Henry couldn’t even put into words just how much it made her look like an absolute Goddess that gave him his two precious miracles.
“D-don’t touch ‘em”
“Why not bun? They’re proof of the amazing journey you took for our family, and they look so fuckin’ sexy” Henry rebutted shutting her up with a sharp thrust which sent her mewling back into his chest, her palms flat on his back as his slow rhythmic thrusts helped her reach her orgasm quicker, each throw of his hips hitting another angle of her G-spot.
“S-sleepy Henry”
“You take all the rest you need baby, take what you need my pretty girl” He whispered pecking her lips thrice more, his hips still softly rolling against hers even after they had finished, the wet sloshy sounds of their juices filling the room as Y/n found herself falling asleep with her husband’s cock inside of her.
———
PSA: Lumberjack!Henry is back!! Meet his lovely momma who raised this beast, although he definitely got his possessive attitude from his dad who we are yet to meet, and his brothers. Hope you guys enjoy this Disneyland snippet 🫶
library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection
Taglist: @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @buckybarnessweetheart @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @animez96 @angelic-dreams13 @squishyturtle @keenduckfury @mxnnana-blog @namjoons-t1ddied @frittelligliegia @realm-of-azrael @lina505 @marvelloki23 @livesinfantasyland @slut4henrycavill @luxeydior
See you guys at the next update, lots of love 🫶🫶
#henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill x you#rpf#henry cavill oneshot#henry cavill rpf#henry cavill x shy!reader#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill smut#lumberjack!henry cavill#fae henry thoughts#henry cavill one shot#henry cavill x short!reader#henry cavill x pregnant!reader#dad!henry cavill#husband!henry
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steve's desperate, okay?
he's officially running late for his first date with linda because he couldn't find his car keys and the shirt he wanted to wear just wasn't working so he had to grab something out of his hamper and throw it on blindly which then messed up his hair and he almost forgot to brush his teeth again but remembered as he opened the front door and-
he only realizes he forgot to put on cologne once he makes it halfway to her house and smells himself. the shirt from the hamper smells stale, not bad, just stale. and steve in his normal, non-rushed state wouldn't have noticed because his trusty calvin klein would have covered it up but today is apparently not a day for things to go right.
with a sigh of frustration, steve pulls into the hook's drugstore a little too quickly and it makes his stomach lurch the tiniest bit before sliding into an open parking sport at the front door. he rushes in, pushing the door open with too much force and books it to the fragrance aisle.
"this is so fucking stupid," he mutters to himself, unable to be heard by any surrounding shoppers over the annoyingly loud jingle playing through the speakers.
steve skids to halt in front of the cologne section, crouching down and scanning quickly over the tester bottles for obsession. once he spots the amber bottle, he yanks it towards himself, spraying as much as he can onto his chest given the awkward angle he's at. as he stands back up, steve pulls his shirt collar up towards his nose and the ball of nerves in his stomach loosens at the familiar smell. he may be late but he feels like he's back in the game.
checking his watch, he sees just how late he is and makes a beeline for the door, nearly running into an older lady with far too many rolls of toilet paper in her tiny arms. as he dodges around her and extends his arm to push open the door, he hears a loud voice over the intercom.
"you're not going to buy anything after stealing cologne?"
steve stops, freezes where he is and frantically turns his head around to spot the cashier grinning at him. he has long hair and a bright red hook's drugstore vest over a denim vest which doesn't look very comfortable. he has chains in his jeans and handcuffs holding his belt closed and a smirk that is trying to kill him and oh-
"wait, stealing cologne?" steve shakes himself back into existence as the old lady pushes by him without dropping a single roll on the way back to her car. "you're going to call me putting on a few sprays stealing?"
the cashier's smile just gets bigger, like a cat hunting down a canary. steve's never felt like a canary before but can't deny that it's an exciting feeling.
"well, on a good day i wouldn't. but i'm bored and you didn't buy a single thing so technically, yes. you're stealing, pretty boy."
steve fights the urge to roll his eyes and put his hands on his hips, so instead he crosses them over his chest, cologne wafting up from the movement and reminding him that he doesn't have time for this no matter how cute the cashier may be.
he makes his way over to the counter, grabs a pack of gum and slams it on the counter. without breaking eye contact with eddie, as his nametag suggests, he throws him a salty smile of his own and pulls his wallet out from his back pocket.
eddie's eyes are a deep brown with a glimmer of something behind them and his hands are covered in rings making his fingers look long and strong. the jeans he has on are ripped on one of the the thighs, showing a hint of a tattoo to match the ones crawling up his arms. steve's no stranger to thinking men are attractive but this guy? he's on a new level. his heart thumps painfully in his chest when eddie's grin grows larger as he watches steve give him a once over. it thumps even harder when eddie gives him a once over of his own.
the clock above the register shows that he's officially 20 minutes late to picking up... laura? lisa?
no, linda. damnit.
eddie looks down at the gum and then back up at steve, quirking up an eyebrow. "i hardly think this monetarily equates to a bottle of cologne but-"
"oh come on!" steve huffs. eddie laughs and it's clear and bright, ringing off the cinderblock walls louder than the annoying jingle that's still playing. whatever fight steve may have had left in him drains away at the sound and suddenly he isn't thinking about the clock anymore. he feels his shoulders fall down to a more relaxed state, feels himself shift his weight on his feet to look more natural than ready to run at a moments notice.
"just kidding, man." eddie rings up the gum quickly and hands it back to steve. "sorry, you looked like you were in a rush. i shouldn't have created a scene just because i'm bored."
steve chuckles. "i'm already supremely late for my date so what's another five minutes. especially if it gets me..." he looks at the gum packet to look at what he even picked up in the first place. "... spearmint freshen-up gum."
"well there you go," eddie says, grin smaller than before, "a perfect thing to get for a date. everyone likes their date to be minty fresh for that first kiss."
it strikes somewhere in steve that he isn't expecting. the beemer is still out in the parking lot running so he didn't have to waste time, his watch on his wrist feels heavy, the scent of obsession overpowering. but he can't make himself move. he wants to stay and talk to eddie, wants to learn about what makes him tick.
"can i borrow your phone?" steve asks. eddie's eyebrows furrow but he reaches for the store phone and places the console on top of the counter.
"for what?"
steve look through his wallet, finding the piece of paper with linda's number on it. holding the receiver between his shoulder and ear, he dials in her number and holds his pointer finger up at eddie, signaling that he'll need a second. steve then brings the finger to his lips and shushes with his cheek pulling up in a smirk. eddie's eyes zero in on the motion and it feels like steve's gone from being the canary back to the cat.
"linda? hey it's steve."
he watches as eddie mouths steve back at him and then nods to himself when he gets the confirmation that it is indeed his name. steve throws him a wink for good measure.
"i know i'm late and i'm really really sorry to cancel last minute but-. oh. yeah, sure. have a good time. okay bye li-."
on the other end of the line, linda slams down the phone without waiting for steve to finish talking and it makes him wince with how loud it is in his ear. he gives eddie a sheepish smile, all toothy and guilt-ridden, and gently puts the receiver back down.
"what was that?" eddie asks with a disbelieving look on his face. steve shrugs.
"she got tired of waiting so she already had another guy lined up to come pick her up."
eddie sucks in air through his teeth and mimes getting shot in the heart. it has steve laughing as he falls over on the counter, hair covering his face. he turns his head to peer up at steve through the curtain of curls, the one brown eye that's visible twinkling in the harsh overhead light.
"was it true love? are you just absolutely heartbroken?"
steve thinks about it for less than a second. watches how eddie curls back up one vertebrae at a time before placing his elbows on the counter and leaning over. watches how eddie's eyes flit between his own and his lips. watches how he focuses on the latter for a little while too long.
"why would i be heartbroken," steve starts. he's being too forward, too brash, but with eddie looking at him that way, he knows he can be. "when you'll probably be on break soon and can make it up to me? you know, for making me even more late and all."
eddie's grin grows wide again. "oh really?"
steve shrugs once more with a playful look of consideration on his face, resting on his elbows to match eddie on the counter. "yes, really. this is your payback for being bored and taking it out on me."
it's later when eddie's on break and steve hasn't left the drugstore in over an hour and they're sitting in his car with bowie playing through the speakers that eddie looks up at him with a look steve knows well.
"you do smell really good, y'know." his voice is softer than steve's heard it all day.
"so are you glad i came in to steal cologne?" steve leans closer over the center console to get into eddie's personal space. there's a hand curling over his bicep and pulling him even closer, their faces only centimeters apart.
"i guess i'll let it slide this time, thief."
and when they kiss for the first time, it tastes like the freshen-up gum they both had been nonstop chewing ever since steve paid for it.
#did drugstores back then have fragrance aisles let alone samplers? who's to say just go with it#inspired by me looking cute for work today and forgetting to put on my perfume and wondering if i should stop in to target on my way in#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet#steddie headcanon#steve harrington#eddie munson#my writing#steddie fic#is this realistic? absolutely not but ignore that for the blorbos sake#stranger things#stranger things fic
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someone’s a little jealous…
older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader
warnings: smut +18 only, jealous!eddie, possessive!eddie, thigh riding, praise kink, semi-public sex, also a lil sprinkle of mean!eddie bc i love him.
it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.
“eddie, hold on—” you mewl, unintentionally grinding yourself harder onto his thigh.
eddie has you pinned between the side of your garage and his chest, purposefully out of view from the prying eyes of your brother. his lips are everywhere, pressing heavy kisses wherever he could reach.
no sliver of skin was left untouched, whether that was from his wandering hands or his lips. he wanted you to feel him all over, to imprint his touch onto your skin forever.
as if to remind you just who you really belonged to, not that you could ever forget.
once you’d said your goodbyes to steve after an incredibly unpleasant dinner, you’d planted a chaste kiss on his cheek (it’s all for the bit, right?) but eddie was beyond fuming.
he’d convinced your brother he had forgotten something back at his trailer, so he’d be gone for at least another twenty minutes. giving him plenty of time to pull you aside and have his way with you.
“what? you want your other boyfriend to come take care of you? is that it?” he grunts, pressing his denim-clad thigh harder against your cunt.
your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, fingernails digging harder into the meat of his shoulders.
“no, i want you, ed.” you whine, feeling the way his lips turn up in a smirk against your jaw.
“is that so?” he hums, nipping at your throat. “didn’t look that way at dinner, baby. looked to me like you really wanted, stevie.”
he all but sneers the other male’s name, the possessive edge to his voice has you practically trembling in his embrace. you’d seen eddie jealous before, but this was on a whole other level.
and you can’t deny the way your cunt practically throbs in response to it.
but when you frantically shake your head and look up at him with those doe eyes, his resolve starts to slip. “it’s only you, eddie. i only want you.”
he makes a deep humming sound in the back of his throat, pressing more heated kisses along your jaw.
“think you’re gonna need to prove it to me, sweetness. prove to me that you’re my good girl.”
he leans one hand on the wall beside your head, and the other he uses to help continually guide your hips along his thigh. your body is buzzing, practically alight under his ministrations— but as good as this felt, you needed more.
“need you to fuck me,” you whimper, burying your face in the sweaty skin of his neck to press some open-mouthed kisses there.
you can feel the chuckle that vibrates against your lips, the sound further dampening your panties.
“you gotta earn that, sweetheart. show me you can come like this and then i’ll think about it.”
he can tell you’re pouting without actually seeing you, earning you another deep chuckle. but you know that’s not going to get you what you want. so when you grip onto his battle vest for leverage and use it to further dampen his jeans, he has to hold back a moan.
“that’s it baby, see you can listen, huh?” the condescension in his tone is thick, “just gotta give you proper incentive, that it?”
you can only manage a whine in response, your own thighs starting to tighten around his own once you find just the right spot. and you’re downright frantic then, hips stuttering as you chase that high. your boyfriend only encourages you, gently coaxing your face from his neck.
his eyes are dark, hungry as he greedily takes in your expressions. the way you tuck your lip between your teeth, a habit you’d formed to keep yourself quiet. and the way your lashes are fluttering, eyes threatening to close with each glide of your clit against the denim beneath your hips.
you’re utterly wrecked, and it’s all because of him.
“cum for me baby, you can do it.” he coos, leaning down to press your lips together.
that’s all it takes for you to fall apart, your body trembling in his strong embrace. he swallows your cries as he kisses you deeper, cradling your body against his own. but you barely have time to relish in the feeling as you hear the back door slam open.
you both freeze as the distinct sound of your brother’s whistling fills the evening air. eddie carefully slides his thigh out from between your own, and you allow your body to rest fully against the garage. neither of you make another move as the lid of the garbage can is flung open, barely five feet around the corner from where you both are standing.
sid makes a noise of disgust as he tosses the bag of trash into the can, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle a giggle. eddie just gives you a pointed look, as if to say, really? right now?
unbeknownst to you, your brother has guns n’roses blasting through the headset of his walkman— so there’s no way he would’ve heard you anyhow.
but your body sags in relief when you hear the back door close again, and eddie blows out the breath he’d been holding.
“jesus christ, that was way too close,” he groans.
you can’t help but giggle when you tug him back into you, nudging your nose with his as you kiss him deeply. eddie rests his hands on your hips, groaning into your mouth when your knee brushes against the bulge in his jeans.
“wait, wait, wait, sweetheart.” he almost whines, causing you to giggle again.
“you promised me, munson.”
he curses again, pulling away from you to run a hand through his tousled hair.
“trust me, i’ll make good on that promise, baby…. but later, okay?”
he gives you a look as you jut out your lower lip in a pout, to which he responds by taking it inbetween his teeth with a grunt.
“god, you’ll be the death of me. you know that?”
series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks
dm me if you want to join the taglist!
#the freak writes 🫧#my series: it’s a recipe for disaster 🫧#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson au#eddie munson series#brothers best friend!eddie munson#brothersbf!eddie munson
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Call It Love
Steve Harrington x Reader
All credit of images to original owners
“It’s Steve.” Robin’s voice was shaky and it made your knees feel uneasy, swallowing the lump in your throat you drove straight to his house.
When you did get there you saw his car park haphazardly in the drive and the sob that was suffocating you only got worse.
He would never park his car like that unless a) he wasn’t driving it or b) he was in a rush. Or worst of all c) he was in such a bad way he actually let someone else drive and was in a rush to get inside.
Deciding you probably didn’t have time to think too much about that you parked your own car just as terribly behind his and not even closing the door as you ran into your boyfriend’s house.
Having hardly heard from him since he dropped you home two nights ago you were already worried.
When you got inside you gasped at the sight of him, covering your mouth as the sob finally escaped Steve, Nancy, Eddie and Robin all looked over to you.
Steve’s face turned thunderous at the sight of you, turning he barely hesitated as he grabbed Eddie by the shirt and threw him against the wall.
“I told you not to call her!” He seethed and even in the moment you tried to think if you had ever seen him that angry.
“Steve it was me, she deserves to know what’s going on.” Robin intervened quickly making him release a nervous Eddie.
They all looked at you, Steve stepping forward cautiously not to upset you even more.
He was dirty, shirtless bar from a denim vest that definitely wasn’t his, bleeding, covered in bruises.
A vast contrast to how you are used to seeing your usually clean cut boyfriend, the last time you had seen him he was wearing a crisp white polo and his stupid family video vest. But his skin was tanned from the spring sun Hawkins had got, his hair perfectly placed.
“What.. what the hell happened to you.” You choked out not taking your eyes off him, pupils moving to try and take in every injury on his body, he took another tentative step towards you and holding out his hands as if approaching a wild animal.
Yours were shaking.
“Baby, baby look at me, I’m fine!” He protested trying to get you to hear him but he knew the noose type bruise around his neck was louder, the chunk of skin missing in his side and bleeding was blaring.
“Steve.” Your chin wobbled and he didn’t know what you needed in that moment.
Hell he didn’t know what he needed and it was choking him.
“I’m fine, you need to look at me okay?” He coaxed just one more time and took the final step to get to you, when his fingers brushed yours to get you to look him in the eye you flinched.
“Baby I’m okay.” He begged as you finally looked him in the eyes, they were the same warm honey that looked at you with so much love it gives you butterflies.
Except this time they made you cry.
You flung your arms around his neck sobbing into the crook between his jaw and collarbone. His arms pulled you as close as possible and he rubbed your back.
You barely had the will in you to let him go, and he wasn’t sure his heart had ever pounded that hard in his life.
Robin bit on her bottom lip knowing now why Steve was so adamant on not calling you. He knew you would hate to see him in this state and he knew you would worry yourself half to death.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked softly and gently pulling away to kiss him on the lips.
One of his hands moved to hold the back of your neck, the other on your back still trying to hold you close to him.
“Yes baby, god I’m so fine.” He breathed out kissing you once more, finally a small sense of relief coming over him that you were here.
Maybe a little grateful now that Robin had called you.
But he won’t admit that.
“What happened to you?” You asked again looking over all his bruises and realised when you unwrapped your hands his blood was smeared all over them. “Oh my god.” You whispered scared and he took them in his own, the shaking not going unmissed.
“I’m getting cleaned up and I’ll be back to normal in no time.” He reassured kissing your knuckles and while you nodded at his words you spoke again.
“Tell me what happened.” You demanded and he sighed heavily.
“I don’t want to.” His voice was honest and firm, he threw a glare at Robin and then sighed heavily.
“Well tough Harrington because if I ever get a call like this again, and I find you in this state if you aren’t already dead I will kill you myself.” You snapped putting a hand on your hip just to prove the sentiment, and all it did was make him grin.
It was real and warm and it took over his whole face.
“There she is. My beautiful girl.” He kissed your lips, your neck, your nose, your forehead and even though you let out a relieved giggle at the normal reaction from your boyfriend you still didn’t have an explanation.
“Can someone please fill me in?” You all but begged as they all avoided your gaze.
“Can you help me get cleaned up baby? And I’ll tell you everything.” He promised before leading you down his hallway into the small mostly unused bathroom the Harringtons fitted two years ago.
He showered and you watched from your spot on the toilet seat as all the blood, dirt and grime ran off his body. His arm leaning on the tiles ahead of him as the water washed down his back, his muscles clenched and he hissed in pain at the impact but you wiped away your worried tears before he could see. And when he was ready and the tap squeaked off you were waiting with a plush white towel wrapping it around him.
After what felt like hours of silence he had taken your spot on the toilet seat, the first aid kit open beside him on the counter and you began fixing him up.
Stopping when he winced but starting again when he looked up at you his eyes all sorry and sad.
“Is this a bite mark?” You whispered as you made it down the scariest looking wound below his ribs.
“Yeah. Demon bats, big ones.” You scoffed out a laugh at his joke and rolled your eyes.
“Harrington, come on. I know you don’t want me to be worried but demon bats, I’m not that stupid.” You huffed out with a soft laugh before looking back up at him.
His silence kind of worrying and the sincere look on his face wiped the smile straight off yours.
“You remember when Will Byers went missing…”
-
It wasn’t until nearly 2am when you crawled into his bed with him.
You rejoined the rest of them after Steve told you as much as he could as quickly as he could. He cursed himself for involving you when you cried and you made him promise to tell you any and every time he could potentially be in danger.
When you got downstairs you hugged all of your friends tightly and ordered them pizza. Once they were all asleep in different parts of the house you and Steve also went to bed.
“Why are you all the way over there?” He whispered as you lay on your back firmly on your side of his bed.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” You whispered back rolling onto your side to look at him.
“Baby, it’s hurting me more that you’re so far away.” He whined in his usual needy tone, with a giggle and a squeal he yanked you into his side.
Curling into him you took a deep breath of his scent and pressed your lips onto his chest with a soft kiss.
“I’m sorry you’ve been going through this alone.” You heard yourself whispering.
“I haven’t been alone, I’ve always known you’d be right here, waiting for me whenever the hell was over. I don’t know what I’d of done if I didn’t have you to fight my way back to.” He told you before pressing a kiss onto your hair line.
“I love you Steve Harrington.” You told him into the darkness, his chest rose and fell quickly and your words seemed to hit him.
“Yeah, I love you too baby. More than you know.” His arms tightened around you and while you were careful of his wounds you decided you weren’t ever going to let your Steve Harrington get hurt like this again.
Even if you had to get to Vecna himself, Steve is too good to suffer this.
And while you were thinking of that Steve was thinking about how he could keep you so far away from this mess so you never had to worry about it again.
#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington drabble#steve Harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington oneshot
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— 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝓃 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 1.3k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ flirty teasing ノ pet names ( sweetheart :3 ) ノ mentions of food
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
boothill is usually making his way back to the house by now, but you don’t hear the click of the door opening to announce his arrival or the sound of him kicking off his boots at the entryway. his schedule has become familiar to you as you’ve established one of your own and you’ve taken note of how he always strolls in around lunchtime. you’ve taken note of other things, too, like his big appetite, how he eats whatever you cook without complaint, and the way he never fails to thank you for the meal.
his flattery when it comes to your cooking skills knows no bounds and consistently earns eye rolls on your end but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his gentlemanly qualities.
lunch is just about ready and the farmhand is nowhere in sight. you turn to your grandpa who’s sitting at the table as you wipe your hands on the dish towel. “did boothill go out?”
his focus shifts from his half-finished crossword puzzle to you. “not that i know of. he’s probably just finishing up.”
he’s right, the man could be in any minute for all you know. but something feels wrong about setting the table and starting to eat without him. as much as he grates on your nerves and makes you feel feelings you’d much rather bury, you’ve grown used to three people sitting around the table. the next words that push past your lips make you wonder if you’re truly the one to speak them.
“i’ll just let him know the food is ready.”
your grandpa hums in acknowledgment, letting you slip past the sliding doors without protest.
the heat of the air hits you immediately and you close the door behind you quickly to be sure it doesn’t warm up the kitchen. the long-sleeved blouse you put on this morning suddenly feels excessive as you traverse the grounds in search of boothill.
it’s not as easy to find him as it has been in the past and you’re beginning to think that he did leave but the fact just slipped your grandpa’s mind. you’re nearing the edge of the property when you consider dropping the manhunt and returning to the house. maybe boothill won’t mind if you set aside his plate for later with a little note explaining that you couldn’t find him.
the moment you think about turning around, something catches your eye. there’s something propped up on the post of the split rail fence. you squint your eyes to get a better look only to realize it’s not something, it’s someone—boothill.
he’s sitting up with his back against the post and his feet stretched to the next—they’re crossed at the ankle. his arms are crossed, too, resting comfortably on his stomach. the hat that’s usually situated atop his head is tipped down to shield his face from the sun’s harsh, bright rays.
you’re unsure if he’s awake or not so you approach him quietly, light steps carrying you closer to the man. the wind catches his hair, blowing unbound black and white strands in rhythm with the breeze. your newfound proximity offers you a better glimpse at the man, namely his exposed chest that you didn’t take notice of a few seconds ago. his shirt is unbuttoned nearly to where it’s tucked into his jeans, leaving smooth, glistening skin on display. even the addition of a denim vest over the white button-up isn’t enough to hide his tanned skin and the beads of sweat forming on it.
you catch yourself staring and shake your head before turning it up to look at the clouds. the blue sky and fluffy spots of white are a pretty sight but the picturesque scene does nothing to help you get the image of boothill’s toned abdomen out of your head. you fear it’s stuck to your eyelids, haunting you every time you dare to blink.
how are you going to look at him across the table without imagining what’s under his shirt now?
the thought reminds you of why you came out here in the first place—you’re supposed to be bringing him inside for lunch. you’re sure he’s asleep by now—he most definitely would have felt your greedy gaze on him if he weren’t—but you’re willing to stir him from his nap if it means getting him out of this summer heat (and getting him to cover up).
you cautiously reach out to take his hat in your hand, lifting the accessory away from his face. you’re not sure how the sudden introduction of light doesn’t bother him but he remains still like you never disturbed him at all.
his resting expression is different from the others you’ve seen paint his face. there’s no crease between his eyebrows like there is when he’s working hard, no curl to his lips like when he’s got a teasing remark on his tongue. he simply looks peaceful, calm, unbothered. pretty, you have to stop yourself from saying aloud.
and it’s all ruined in a moment.
“see somethin’ you like, sweetheart?” his eyes don’t open but the little smirk you so often find him wearing has made itself comfortable on his lips. you take a startled step back—you were sure he had nodded off. how long has he been awake? does he know you were staring?
the lack of an answer from you leads boothill to open his eyes, though they squint almost instantly upon being met with the brightness of the sun. although, that doesn’t stop him from meeting your eye and holding your gaze.
you disregard his question and keep your eyes on his face, not risking letting your gaze fall below his neck. “if you’re tired, you should go sleep in the house. it’s way too hot to nap out here.”
his eyebrows raise ever-so-slightly at your suggestion, smile unwavering. conversely, yours furrow at the change in his expression—nothing good can come of it. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re worried about me.”
you press your lips together. is that what led you out here—your worry about him missing a meal? worry doesn’t feel like the right word… you simply want to adhere to your routine which, whether you like it or not, now includes boothill. that’s that, worry is out of the question.
“i’m not worried,” you tell him, clenching your fists as if that’ll help you convince yourself. it’s only then that you realize you’re still holding his hat. you look down at it in your hand and suddenly your palm and the tips of your fingers feel hot, like that hat is a scorching fire that’s burning you. you quickly toss the accessory into the man’s lap. “i only came out here to tell you lunch is ready.”
having gotten your job done, you turn on your heel and start back towards the house. you only make it a few steps before boothill is coming up beside you, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. it’s a mistake to glance his way as he hasn’t bothered buttoning up his shirt and his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he had no intention of doing so.
you're not so lucky to go unnoticed this time and it would be unlike boothill not to comment on your wandering eyes. “what? like my outfit that much?”
you silently scold yourself for staring, eye flitting away from him. “it’s fine.”
“oh? somethin’ else catch your eye, then?” he asks, and you can hear the humor in his voice. “maybe it’s my—”
“oh my god!” your hands fly up to cover your ears and they’re hot to the touch. “shush!”
despite the barrier, you can still hear his hearty chuckle that comes at your expense.
the thought comes far too late but you realize you would have been much better off leaving him to bake in the sun, never making the effort to call him in at all. because now, even after you’ve made it through lunch, washed the dishes, and are back in the comfort of your bedroom, you’re still going to be thinking about the farmhand and his annoyingly perfect abs.
thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail#boothill x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill drabble#hsr drabbles#boothill fluff#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff
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hiiiiiii! Can you please do a ponyboy x soc reader but only johnny knows that they're dating and he accidentally lets it slip to the gang while pony and she are out on a date. And then the boys go and crash the date and tease them but soda is lowk so excited and proud
romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone ₊˚⊹ᰔ
your date with pony gets crashed ! | ponyboy curtis x soc ! reader ˎˊ˗
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as a soc, you were expected to maintain your image by following an abundance of rules set by your parents— the most enforced one being to avoid greasers at all costs. these expectations have been engraved into your mind since the day you were born, not only by your parents, but by your peers as well, neither of whom you understood. if anything, you found it ironic how greasers were labeled ‘reckless troublemakers’ while your friends were shotgunning beers every friday night and jumping any greaser they stumbled across.
in all fairness, you were nothing like the people you surrounded yourself with. in fact, you began to grow fond of a greaser by the name of ponyboy curtis. the two of you shared an interest for poetry and watching the sunset. as your friendship grew stronger over time, so did your feelings for him. he definitely wasn’t what you’d expected from a greaser— sure, he was quite impulsive, but you appreciated his sensitivity and his love for the simpler things in life. he was smart, too. admittedly, you often found yourself asking him for help on your homework assignments. it wasn’t long before the two of you started dating. though it was difficult sneaking in and out of such a highly secured house, you’d risk anything for even just a few minutes with pony. these secret dates were to be kept between three people and three people only: you, pony, and his best friend, johnny.
while you and pony are at the dingo, the rest of the gang is at the curtis house. no one knows of pony’s whereabouts aside from johnny.
soda’s eyes dart around the room, looking for any sign of his little brother. “where’s pony gone off to?”
two-bit scratches his nape, shrugging. “beats me.”
without thinking, johnny blurts out a reply. “pony and y/n are on a da-“ johnny pauses, clearing his throat and praying that no one heard his slip up.
dallas nearly spits out his water, his eyes widening at johnny’s answer. “wait, wait- you talkin’ ‘bout soc y/n?”
“god.. what has pony gotten himself into..?” darry huffs out a sigh, rubbing his temples and shaking his head. though he seems disappointed, soda, on the other hand, applauds pony.
“i guess he learned a thing or two from me,” soda winks, running a hand through his greased hair. “soon enough, the ladies will be all over him.”
two-bit chuckles. “who knew socs were so into pone?”
steve scoffs, shoving his hands into his denim vest. “but of all people, why woulda soc pick him?”
johnny anxiously begins to bite the inside of lips as he inches away from the rest of the gang, embarrassed at himself for letting a secret slip out in such a stupid way.
dal screws the cap of his water bottle on. “y’know, i’ve got an idea,” he steps forward, motioning for the rest of the gang to come closer. “i say we crash his date. ain’t no harm in a little fun.”
the dingo’s always been chaotic— not that it was out of your nature, but there was always a fight going on outside, the screams muffled beneath the jukebox blasting elvis presley. while you and pony are trying to enjoy your dinner, customers are spinning all around the restaurant and dancing along to the music. you’re practically drowning in a sea of leather jackets and greased hair.
you pick at the undercooked burger in front of you, offering pony a reluctant smile. the music was beginning to overwhelm you, and the disgusting food wasn’t helping your situation at all.
“it’s pretty loud in here, isn’t it?”
pony nods, taking a bite out of his fry. “didn’t think it’d be so packed tonight,” he mutters under his breath. “why don’t we go somewhere quiet after dinner? somewhere we can be alone.”
your lips quirk up into a soft grin at his suggestion. “that sounds good! we could-“
before you finish your sentence, you’re interrupted by the sound of someone calling your boyfriend’s name.
“POOOONYYYY, OH LOVER BOYYY!” two-bit storms into the dingo, the rest of the gang following behind him. he approaches pony, twirling his invisible strands of hair like a little girl.
soda lightly nudges your shoulder, a proud smirk across his face. “pony-kid’s a real dreamboat, ain’t he?”
dallas pockets his hands. “y’all had your first kiss yet?”
you peer over dallas’ shoulder, spotting johnny. he’s looking down, very obviously avoiding eye contact with you. you then turn your head back to pony, raising a brow. was this all a set up? did johnny intentionally tell pony’s friends that the two of you were on a date? what the hell was even going on??
pony slouches down from his seat, his head in his hands concealing the red flush washing over his cheeks. of course, he knew the rest of the gang was bound to find out about his relationship with you— he just didn’t think it’d be this way.
‘romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone.. i’ll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡
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#𝜗𝜚 grlsinterrupted#the outsiders#the outsiders fanfiction#the outsiders headcanons#ponyboy curtis#dallas winston#johnny cade#sodapop curtis#dally winston#two bit mathews#twobit mathews#steve randle#darry curtis#˖˚⊹ ponyboy curtis#ponyboy headcanons#ponyboy x reader#ponyboy michael curtis#ponyboy the outsiders#ponyboy curtis x reader#ponyboy curtis headcanons#ponyboy curtis imagine#the outsiders 1983
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pretty boy
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
prompt: steve isn’t used to the reader’s compliments
warnings: smut (18+) • masturbation (m) • handjob • sub steve (kinda) • friends to lovers sorta
word count: 1.4k
notes: this is kinda rushed srry
You can’t help but giggle as Steve struts out of the dressing room, his ego much larger than you anticipated. You had dragged Steve to the mall, convincing him a new wardrobe would finally get him the girlfriend he’s been so desperately searching for. You didn’t mean to make fun of his stride but you always saw right through the facade. The man was much dorkier than he looked, his ineptness masked by beauty.
“I knew you were fucking with me!” He pouts as he struggles to tug the denim vest from his shoulders.
“Steeeeve I’m sorry!” you laugh as you spring to your feet, trying to get the garment back onto him. “It looks good!” You truly meant it, though the smirk across your face didn’t help him believe that.
“The constant tormenting really isn’t good for this friendship.” He quips.
“I mean it Steve! You look pretty.” you smile, patting him on the shoulder before sitting back down. Steve scratches his head, confusion now replacing his previous annoyance.
“What?”
He raises a brow at you as he places his hands on his hips.
“What do you mean pretty?”
“You stupid, Harrington?
He met your gaze with a puzzled expression, not quite used to your compliments. Steve had been called many things but pretty was not one of them until now. He felt a little strange, a flutter in his stomach growing as he sat down.
“Pretty like….a girl, pretty?”
“If you wanna take it that way Steve! Now are you gonna buy that or what?” You sigh, sick of his fixation on a single word. He huffs, taking the vest to the register before making his way out of the store.
“Whatever…”
-
Steve gulps as you start your car. For some reason he felt a little weird about you driving him home, mind still stuck on that one word. Your mutual silence and hum of the car’s engine filled the air with an unspoken tension. He felt uneasy, not wanting to look you in the eye as you nudged his arm.
“Hey, what’s up with you?” you question, slightly alarmed by his silence. You knew how much he loved to run that mouth of his.
“I just…” his voice trails off, "what did you mean by pretty?” he glances at you before placing his eyes back on the road.
“Jesus you're still thinking about that!?” you laugh, “You must’ve liked it huh?” you tease.
“N-No!” he protests, voice shaking with uncertainty. He wasn’t sure if he even believed that answer himself, face heating up as he fidgets with his fingers in his lap.
“You like it when I call you pretty, Steve?” you prod at him, amused by his nervous state.
“S-Shut up…” He breathes, face going red as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He couldn’t help but feel his cock twitch in his jeans as he replayed your words in his head. He wasn’t used to your praise, your dynamic usually consisting of playful insults and teasing. He wasn’t sure if you actually meant the compliment, but he certainly enjoyed hearing it come out of your mouth regardless. He was thankful you weren't onto him, not noticing the bulge quickly starting to form in his pants. He lets out a shaky breath as you pull up to his house, placing his hand over his crotch to conceal his unwanted excitement.
“Can I hang out for a little? We can watch a movie or something.” you suggest as he unfastens his seatbelt.
“Nope! I’ve got an early shift at work tomorrow.” he lies, blinking nervously.
You barely have a chance to say goodbye before he slams the passenger door closed and heads for his front door, clearly in a hurry to get home. Weird.
-
Steve pants as he struggles to get out of his clothes fast enough, kicking off his shoes while simultaneously unbuttoning his pants and yanking them down his legs. He gets his shirt stuck over his head, falling to his bed blindly before successfully getting it off and throwing it across the room. He felt guilty, cock aching at the thought of you. He didn’t know why one stupid word got him so worked up. It felt so good hearing you say it…he wanted more. What else could you call him? Maybe you could touch him too, make him feel good. He finally wraps a hand around his cock, grunting as he squeezes himself. He moans your name, too caught up in his own thoughts to hear his door open.
“Steve you left your-” you gasp as you see him leaned against his headboard, dick in hand.
“What the fuck?!” He yells, throwing his blanket over his lower half. His face goes red….did you hear him?
“I- Um-” he stutters.
You toss his forgotten vest on the floor, squinting as you think about what you had just heard.
“Did you….say my name?”
“What?! No! That’s so weird that you would say that!” he scoffs. What a shitty liar. You walk over to his bed, sitting beside him. You watch as his chest rises and falls, breathing heavy from his alone time being cut short.
“It’s okay if you did Steve. It’s fine.” you reassure him. You had a strong feeling you caused this.
“Why?” he whispers as he holds his head down, struggling to make eye contact.
“Is it because of earlier?” you ask, grabbing his chin to make him look at you. A blush spreads across his face as his eyes focus on your lips. He nods,
“Yeah.” he breathes, voice quiet and cautious. he sucks in a sharp breath as you press a hand against his chest
“Tell me what you want Steve…” you whisper. You watch closely as he leans into your touch, desperate and docile. He wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted. He wasn’t used to someone being so gentle with him. He was completely in the palm of your hand.
“You want someone to take care of you Stevie?” you ask, caressing his cheek. He leans in to kiss you but you back away, leaving him unsure of what to do next.
“Lay down.” you instruct.
He leans back, head resting against his pillows as he looks up at you. His lashes flutter as his breathing quickens with anticipation. He had never really thought about you this way, but it all seemed to happen so naturally. You pull the blanket from off of him, marveling at his size as a grin tugs at your lips. You go to wrap a hand around his twitching cock, precum beading at the head. As he feels your touch, his hips immediately buck up into your grasp, a whine falling from his lips.
“Such a pretty cock, Stevie…” you tease, making his eyes squeeze shut in response to the adored word. He writhes against the bed as you stroke him slowly, back slightly arching as he tries to drive himself deeper into your hand.
“Feels good huh?” you ask. He nods in response, letting out a choked moan as he tries to speak.
“Use your words Steve.”
“Yeah…feels so good.” he breathes as he grips the bedsheets.
“Look at me.” you demand, grabbing his face with your free hand. His eyes open slowly, tears welling up in them as the pleasure grows overwhelming. You pump him faster as your eyes meet with his, a cry coming from him loudly.
“Do you wanna cum?” you ask as you wipe a tear from his cheek.
“Please–p-please” he begs, his release approaching quickly with each word from you.
“You wanna cum Steve?” you repeat in a whisper, stroking him faster as he struggles to thrust up into your hand. He’s almost over the edge, cock pulsating from his near climax. You take your hand in his as you continue to jerk him off with the other. He squeezes desperately as he finally hears it,
“Cum for me Stevie.” you plead, grip around his length tightening as he bucks into your hand one last time. His body goes tense with pleasure as the bliss of his orgasm washes over him, a cry escaping his lips. You wipe up the rest of his cum on your hand with your fingers, licking them clean as he watches you in awe. He pants as he stares at you, in shock of what had just transpired.
“Thank you…” he manages as he runs a shaky hand through his hair.
“You’re welcome, pretty boy.”
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#stranger things smut#keery0s#keery0s writes#ns/fw#sub!steve#sub!steve harrington
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