#like she said things on the phone that if she'd said them in writing (so i had evidence) i could probably sue

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[shoutsindwarvish]

i just spent four-and-a-half hours on job searching and i found one that is extremely promising that i'm perfectly qualified for that has the potential for a pay bump

i wanted to get the application submitted today but my brain is fried...i need a break. maybe i'll get it submitted after dinner. i'm so close, you guys!!

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.

Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.

"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."

He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.

"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."

"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."

He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night. 

"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."

But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.

"Ness. I want to stay in."

She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."

She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."

His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"

Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."

Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."

When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"

"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"

Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."

"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone. 

He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case. 

So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.

------------------------

The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.

He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read. 

When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead. 

His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail. 

"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"

He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days. 

He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back. 

This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.

He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.

Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.

"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.

He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.

Dear United States Naval Aviator,

First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!

Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)

Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.

Sincerely,

The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher

Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself. 

He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.

First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.

"Damn."

The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.

"Fucking gorgeous."

----------------------

And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[ivyasproperty]

Teach me, professor.

prof!agatha.h x fem!student!reader

summary — the infamous professor, agatha harkness, who is known for her cold demeanor, seems to have a soft spot for you, and decides to address the longing glances you cast her way.

warning(s) : smut, legal age gap ( agatha is 46, reader is 21 )

word count : 1.3k words

A/N : i took such a long ass break IM SO SORRY WHAFGAHAGAH, im still not good at writing so bare with me omg

You stirred awake as the sunlight shone on your face, groaning in annoyance, checking the time on your phone and once again getting blinded by the brightness, you sat up in a panic after realizing you were once again late to class. You were usually able to get up around 2 hours before any of the professors arrived, but lately, your dreams have been plagued by a certain history professor. You quickly cleared your mind of these thoughts, needing to get ready and NOT wanting another lecture from professor Jones, it seemed as if she was always targeting you about the littlest things.

After finally getting ready and rushing out of your dorm room, your burst through the door of the classroom, preparing yourself for yet another lecture, but was surprised to see professor Harkness, the exact professor you'd dream about during your not so innocent slumber. Professor Harkness turned around at the sound of the door slamming open, a smirk adorning her features after realizing you'd finally arrived. "Well if it isn't Miss Y/L/N, take a seat at the front, I'll be substituting professor Jones today, she seems to have gotten a cold," she pointed towards the seat right in front of her as she said those words that you didn't seem to process. Your mind was too focused on the fact that you'd have to endure about 3 hours of her just sitting there, and yes even though it didn't seem like that big of a deal, you could never seem to focus around the woman, her striking features and veiny hands were always distracting you, even in those spectacular horrid dreams of yours. Her clearing her throat broke you out of your stupor, rushing to the seat with flushed cheeks while looking at the ground. You didn't seem to notice the amused look on professor Harkness's face.

Professor Harkness had a big reputation around campus for having a very cold demeanor, you didn't understand why people would say that since she would always give you the softest gazes, and always congratulate you after getting an average score on her test ( they were always A's. But after getting so many of them, they seemed like an average grade to you. )

So there it was, the longest yet fastest 3 hours of your life. You spent most of the time sparing glances at professor Harkness, but whenever you would glance at her, she'd already be staring back at you, causing you to be even more flustered and move around in your seat. Her signature smirk sat on her face, staring at you with those piercing blue eyes, she opened here mouth to say something but it was then that the bell rang. Her face had clear irritation written across it. Just as you were about to leave, you felt a soft yet firm grip on your wrist, looking behind you, your eyes widened at seeing professor Harkness staring at you with a loving gaze, but it disappeared after realizing not all the students have left the classroom. After the last person shut the door, she dragged you by the wrist and sat you down on the chair opposite of the desk.

"So," her voice rang out into the empty classroom, "I couldn't help but notice your sweet staring, pet. Don't think you've been so sly now. So tell me, what goes through your mind, pet?" The nickname sent a wave of arousal through your body, it wasn't the first time she had used it on you, but it always felt like it was. You stuttered out a response so quickly it seemed pathetic. "I- uhm.... It's nothing professor, was just daydreaming is all." She looked at you with skeptical eyes, and kneeled down and inched closer to you, her face was now centimetres away from your own and your mind was screaming to just kiss her, and so you did.

You smashed your lips against hers, the gasp she let out was a sign that she didn't expect your sudden action, and before she could reciprocate the kiss you'd initiated, you pulled away in a panic. Eyes glossing over with tears, and before you knew it, your mouth was spewing out apologies, "P-professor! I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mea-" your words were swallowed by her lips as she kissed you with more passion than you've ever felt. You finally kissed her back after a few seconds of shock. You felt her smirk through the kiss and you whined as she pulled away, trying to chase after her rosy pink lips that looked delicious in your saliva ( idk why but that sounded kinda icky to me.. ). "You poor thing, don't worry pet, I'll take good care of you, just lay on the desk for me, yeah? Be my good girl." Your cheeks heated up at her words, nodding your head and getting on the desk.

Your eyes widened at the sight of her getting on her knees and gripping your thighs rather harshly, it was then you noticed the dark look in her eyes. You let out a loud gasp which was cut off by her hand covering your mouth. "Be quiet, pet. You don't want others hearing you, do you now?" You nodded your head, but the thought of someone walking in excited you a bit, but you'd never let her know, at least not now as she tore off your panties. Thank the heavens that you decided to wear a skirt today. Her nose bumped against the bundle of nerves and you moaned into a hand as she gave a hard suck to your clit. You bucked your hips against her face, and felt the vibrations of her chuckle against you. She ran two fingers across your folds, not surprised by how wet you were and plunged them inside. She let you get used to the feeling of her fingers before setting a steady rhythm. You were moaning loudly into her hand, the feeling of her mouth and fingers on you exciting you. She let go of your clit and stood up to give you a hard kiss, whining into her mouth at the lost suction, she put her thumb to good use and rubbed your clit.

"P-professor.... I'm gonna-gonna come...!-" "Come for me angel, be my good girl." Her permission was all you needed as your body tensed up, pure pleasure rippled through your body as your juices flowed onto her hands. Her pants were drenched in your juices and she couldn't help but laugh at the fact that you had squirted on her. "Oh honey, look at what you've done. Can't blame you though, you look absolutely divine." She kissed your face as she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, careful to not overstimulate you. She carefully dressed you back up, and pat you on the back, signaling it was time to leave. She accompanied you back to your dorm room and gave you a wink before leaving.

Shutting your dorm door, you slid down it and let out a sigh. Your cheeks were still red from the events. And as you were about to take off your clothes to take a shower and deal with the new pressure in your stomach, you felt something inside your skirt pocket. Taking it out, you noticed straight away it was your dearest professors handwriting, on it was a phone number and below was a message, "feel free to call me, bunny. and don't touch what's mine, i'll be sure to take care of it tomorrow in my office. agatha, X." Your heart fluttered at the thought, and you were giddy the entire night, your roommates were surprised at your happy attitude but were happy for you nonetheless. You closed your eyes that night with a thought in your mind, you imagined being in her arms, and before you knew it, you were sound asleep.

A/N : this is my first time writing smut so bare with me pls. i took a whole ass one month long break so my writing skills are still kinda crusty, but in the end i hope you all enjoyed this one ^^ feel free to leave a request!!

[cherrygirlfriend]

bsf!rafe and reader miss each other

warnings: angst aka the one where rafe is in the doghouse. i wanted to try and write a bit of a dual-pov situation of the time after reader ended things, it's a bit experimental for me but i hope it's still enjoyable! this might be a bit melancholic but eh (also i baked two whole pies today let's go baker era i live alone idek what to do with em)

when you were hooking up rafe, every moment without him felt empty. like he completed you. that was partially what made you continue on with him for so long; you were worried that if he wasn't in your life, you'd constantly walk around with this hole in your chest, like a part of you was missing.

but you found that after you ended things, he wasn't the only thing on your mind all the time. sure, you missed him, but what you missed wasn't the sex, or even the almost-romantic part of your relationship, but his friendship. you missed the boy you told all your secrets to, the one who'd been your shoulder to cry on for as long as you could remember. but a part of you wasn't completely sure if that boy even existed anymore.

you knew that the boy who'd passed notes with you all throughout your middle school and high school years wouldn't do what he did to you. or the boy who let you stay at his house whenever your parents argued, and stay up with you trying to comfort you.

when you had been involved with him, you never told anyone; when your friends asked you where you always disappeared off to, you said you were just 'meeting up with a guy' and none of them really cared enough to pry, and only after did it end did you realize how shallow most of your friendships felt. none of them even noticed when you'd shut yourself away, or the fact that you started to distance yourself from everyone.

except for one.

one friday evening, the doorbell rang and you forced yourself to go open the door, only for it to reveal vivian, someone who you'd pretty much known since kindergarten, holding up two bottles of wine. "i'm not gonna leave before you tell me what's wrong with you." she said, and even though you knew she'd probably judge you for everything that went down, you also knew you couldn't hold onto it all.

and so the two of you ended up laying on your bed, drinking straight out of the bottle, with you recounting the whole story to her, without vivian interrupting you even once. and even though it was only one person, it made all the difference in the world.

"jesus, what a dick!" was the only thing he said when you were done, the two of you bursting into laughter.

but as time went by, you slowly started to miss him less and less, and as the marks he had littered all around your body started to fade, so did your longing for him.

sometimes you'd see him when you were out; it was mostly at the country club, or whenever one of your friends had convinced you to come to a party, and to let loose. but whenever you saw him, you never said a word to each other, you never even smiled. but for a brief moment, as you stared at one another across the room, it was as if it was just the two of you, lying on the floor of his living room, surrounded by beer bottles and used plastic cups, remnants of yet another party.

but as soon as one of you looked away, the moment faded away, like you two had never known each other. it was like he was never your first love.

and before you knew it, summer had come to an end, it had been three months since the night you ended things with him, the sky above you turning grey as you sat on the dock in front of your house with your feet in the cold water, when your phone started ringing, and for the first time in three months...

incoming call... rafe

and as you wondered what to do, a raindrop fell over the green circle displayed on your phone, as if telling you what to do, and so you took your phone into your hand, chewing on your bottom lip as you were thinking of whether to accept or decline.

to say that he wasn't good when it came to emotions and feelings would be an understatement when talking about rafe. most of the time the only thing he allowed himself to feel was anger, and so, when you walked out of the bathroom, the only thing he could do was stare at that locket, and even though he wanted to be angry, to start punching the bathroom sink until his hand broke, he couldn't. all he could do was stare at that damn locket, feeling like someone had punched all the air out of his lungs, like there just wasn't any anger left in him.

the day after you ended things with rafe, he broke up with sofia. for the next week the only thing he did was drink just to get the thoughts of you out of his head. for the week after that, all he did was think about you.

you needed your space, but he knew that every sunday you spent the afternoons playing tennis with one of your friends; so every sunday he'd drag his friends there on the premise of playing golf, just to get a glimpse of you; and unlike him, you looked fine, like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. he'd go out to any party he got wind of, just in case you showed up.

and whenever you noticed rafe's presence, when you looked straight at him, it was like the emptiness that had been in his chest since that night was slowly going away, like it was that night when you slept in his arms when he whispered "i love you." into your ear, hoping to god that you wouldn't hear, and now, the only thing he wished was for you to hear it even though he couldn't say it. but whenever you looked away from him, that emptiness came back.

rafe rarely drew anymore, not since he started working with his father, but now he found himself sketching images he had carved into his memory, ones of you sleeping in his bed, his sheets pulled up to cover your chest while your hair covered a good part of your face, ones with that look on your face when your face was flushed from alcohol when you were trying your hardest to find the words you were looking for when you were chattering about something you were passionate about.

and the next three months went in a cycle of drinking or throwing himself into the family business to forget about you, or finally giving in and thinking about you with that locket held in his large hand, and whenever he saw you, the more alright you seemed, and he kept wondering if that'd ever happen to him.

he was sitting in the office that formerly belonged to his father, his jaw clenched as he stared at your contact image, a picture of you petting a stray cat that lived around the island, obsessing over your contact something he'd been doing a lot lately, as if daring himself to call you. but before he could, he'd dropped his phone down onto the desk, rubbing his palms over his face with a deep sigh, telling himself to just focus on his work.

but rafe was drawn out of his thoughts of a familiar ringing, of one telling you that you were calling someone. and when he pulled his hands away from his eyes, they landed on his phone calling a familiar number.

and before he could hang up and pretend it never happened, the call was connected, and a soft voice on the other side simply said,

"rafe?"

[ddejavvu]

hiii!! can i suggest some hotch x bau!wife!reader where reader is pregnant and she doesnt know, but at work she goes on about how she doesnt know whats wrong with her lately and spencer suggests that she might be pregnant and then she find out that she is!!

I love your writing sm btw😚😚😚

i think i might finally have enough time to write whole blurbs again :'))

--

"No flamin' hot for you today, Mrs. Hotchner?" Derek eyes your bag of plain cheetos where they lay open on your desk, and you grimace at his phrasing.

"God, no," You groan, "Don't make me sick."

"You love those things," His brows furrow, and he leans on the edge of your desk with one hand, his thick fingers splayed out over the wood, "I'm pretty sure your tongue is permanently stained red by now."

"I like them when I'm not in the middle of some weird stomach bug," You admit, "I woke up sick. I don't know what did it, but it was probably something Jack brought home."

Derek pointedly removes his hand from your desk, but he's kind enough not to tell you that he thinks you're contagious.

"Feel better, mama." He offers with something that you're sure is supposed to be a sympathetic smile, but looks a little more like a wince. Emily isn't so easily scared off, though, and she continues munching on the carrot sticks she'd brought for a snack.

"You look tired," She comments, and you almost want to take offense, "You were up all night with your stomach thing?"

"No, just when my alarm went off," You hum, swallowing a bite of your sandwich and trying not to heave at the texture, "It was nice enough to let me sleep, but-" Your sentence is cut off with a well-timed yawn, "I feel like I've been awake for days."

"Probably just your period," Penelope hums softly, trying and failing to keep your menstrual cycle a secret, which isn't surprising considering her track record with secrets. Everyone is kind enough to ignore the information she revealed, but when you shake your head and grumble, 'I'm late.', Spencer snaps to attention.

"You've missed a menstrual cycle, you're feeling extreme fatigue, and you're experiencing morning sickness?" Spencer verifies, and it's only with his discerning brain that you feel a weight sink in your stomach - preferably not your unborn baby.

"Oh my god," You breathe, your hand coming subconsciously up to your stomach, "Oh my- oh my god! Aaron, Aaron!"

Aaron rushes out of his office with the combined urgency of boss and husband, his eyes locking on you sharp with concern.

The air between you is thick as the members of your team grin up at Hotch, leaving you the silence to cheer, "I'm pregnant!"

His eyes are no longer viciously worried, their sharp edge melting into something far softer. His lips part, barely enough to let air through, until they crack and curve upwards in a dazzling smile that the bullpen doesn't often get to see.

"You took a test?" He confirms, but when you shake your head, he dims slightly.

"Reid said I am," You offer, and his zeal is back. You're sure he wishes he could wrap you up in a truly breathtaking embrace, complete with kiss far too passionate for your work environment, but you'll save it until you're at home, away from prying eyes and phone cameras. Regardless, you can feel his exhilaration from where you stand, and you're already planning out a nursery in your mind.

"He's probably more trustworthy than the plastic stick," Derek claps Reid on the back, and the doctor looks like the wind was knocked out of him. They're both smiling, though, and you feel JJ's hand on your shoulder, squeezing happily.

"Congratulations," Rossi pats Aaron on the shoulder, much gentler than Reid had been subjected to, "But a word of advice, Hotch? Don't have any more. If I have to split my inheritance another way, it won't be worth killing me over."

[vivwritesfics]

Pastry

Boyf Oscar moments

1.3K

I need moots

"Oscar Pastry!" She sang as she skipped towards the McLaren garage.

The Australian in question glared at her, but it was a good thing his glare made him look like an angry puppy.

"That's not my name," he said as she came closer.

Y/N thought for a minute. "No, no. I think it is," she answered and looked around the garage for his teammate. "Lando! This is Oscar Pastry, right?"

"Definitely Oscar Pastry!" Lando shouted back.

"That's settles it then, Oscar Pastry."

Oscar may have been glaring, but he skill kissed her. "Wish me luck today," he said, placing his hands on her hips while Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good luck, Pastry," she whispered and placed her head against his chest.

Oscar kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms more securely around her.

Pastry, because that was what Y/N thought his name was when they'd first met. She'd soon learnt it was Piastri, but by then it was too late and the name had stuck. Even before they were dating, she still called him Oscar Pastry.

It was his name in her phone when they were innocently flirting over text. When the flirting was no longer innocent, his name was still Oscar Pastry.

When Oscar had asked Y/N to be his, she'd answered with "Of course, Oscar Pastry."

Now, a year on from that everything was different. Oscar was no longer in F2 and a lot more of his life was in the limelight. But he was still Y/Ns Oscar Pastry.

***

2023 was Oscars rookie season. But he was amazing. Y/N always came away from each race filled with pride. Oscar could have DNFed or finished each race last and she still would have been filled with pride.

"Pastry!" Y/N shouted as he got out of the car. He wasted no time in taking her into his arms and spinning her around. His helmet was still on his head, so Y/N had no choice but to kiss it, to kiss where his mouth should have been.

He let her go, pulled off his helmet and gave her a real kiss. One that had the lads in the McLaren garage clapping their hands and turning away to give them a little bit of privacy.

After that Oscar was off to do what he needed to do after the race. Y/N waited for him in his driver's room. She played on her phone, scrolling through social media to see pictures of the race already up on her Instagram.

The Oscar fans were her favourite. There were some familiar faces on her feed, fans that had been there since his F2 days and had moved up into F1 with them.

There were several pictures of Oscars McLaren driving around the track. There were quick videos of him overtaking other drivers and pictures of his jumping out of his car.

And then Y/N got to the F1 news sites. Ever since Oscars F1 debut, the news sites run by the male F1 fans had been overly critical of her specifically. So, Y/N tended to avoid them. She stuck to the accounts that loved her and Oscar together, the accounts that didn't tear her down just because she was with Oscar.

The wag accounts had posted updates from the race, the most recent of which being the picture of her kissing Oscars helmet. And then it was the pictures of her actually kissing Oscar. Him all sweaty and disheveled from the race, her radiating pure joy.

***

Y/N couldn't go to every race. As much as she tried, she couldn't make it to every single one. She had work and school to attend.

So, when she couldn't make it to a race, Oscar was very understanding. They called and texted as much as they possibly could. Even if she had to watch the race through her tv screen, she still watched the race.

Studying and working was a tiring business. Sunday evening, after the race, Y/N was exhausted. With preparing to write her thesis, she only managed to half watch the race. It was mainly her listening out for Oscars name and number as she typed away at her laptop.

Oscar was due home that night. To the some they shared.

Y/N tried her very best to stay awake as she waited for him, she really did. Maybe her first mistake was climbing into bed. Maybe her first mistake was getting under the blankets and letting the warmth cocoon her.

The same thing probably would have happened if she had stayed sitting on the couch. At least in her bed she was comfortable and unlikely to hurt her back like she would on the couch.

When Oscar got in, the lights and the television were still on. It was kind of worrying, actually, seeing all the lights on and no sign of his girlfriend. "Y/N?" He called, looking around into their kitchen. "Y/N?"

Oscar went around, checking every single room. And then he got to their bedroom.

Slowly, Oscar pushed open the door. It didn't stop the door from squeaking as he opened it. He put his head around the door and looked in.

There she was, sleeping peacefully in their bed. In way of pyjamas she had on an orange McLaren hoodie.

Oscar tried his best to be quiet. He tried to move around the room silently, tried to be light-footed, but he wasn't doing a very good job. Every time the floorboards creaked under his feet, he turned back to his girlfriend, to make sure she was still asleep.

As Oscar got dressed, Y/N stirred. She rolled towards him, her eyes fluttering open. "Pastry?" She called, her voice croaking.

Suddenly she was sat up, rolling out of bed and stumbling towards him. "Oh my god, Pastry. You're back," she said and wrapped her arms around him.

Oscar had to hold her steady as they hugged. "I missed you too, baby," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. He walked her back over to the bed and sat her down.

"Love you, Oscar Pastry," she whispered and promptly went back to sleep, wrapped in his embrace.

***

"This is paradise," said Y/N as she stretched out on her sun lounger. The sun was shining, palm trees providing the only shade for miles.

The pool in front of her was crystal clear. In said pool was her boyfriend, swimming from one side to the other with an inflatable dolphin. Y/N watched him through her sunglasses, a McLaren hat on her head.

Summer break was something Y/N took very seriously. Her studies were finally done and Oscar was finally on summer break from the season.

Of course, Oscar had to take his girl on holiday. They flew to the Caribbean, to a private villa they'd rented for the next week and a half. From there it was sun, sand, blue skies and crystal clear water.

Getting out of the pool, Oscar threw himself down onto the sunbed beside Y/N. "Happy?" He asked, reaching out and placing his hand on her knee.

His fingers were cold, but it was welcome under the Caribbean sun. Y/N placed her hand on top of his and nodded her head. "This is amazing, Oscar Pastry," she said, turning towards him.

Oscar had this way of smiling. It made Y/N's heart beat fast and the blood rush to her cheeks. "I love you," she said, reaching up to push her fingers through his hair. "My Oscar Pastry."

"Your Oscar Pastry."

The trip was commemorated with a post on Y/N's Instagram.

y/nusername:

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiatri and 238,557 others

ynusername Oscar 🥐

[avatar-anna]

I have a requeeestt. Would you write something where ice skater y/n has her period and she has practice and it’s just NOT her day. And she doesn’t feel super comfortable telling Harry but he figures it out and just like pure fluff 🙊💗

Grumpy

part one, part two, bonus, bonus, bonus

Harry's girlfriend was a delight. An absolute ray of sunshine. The sweetest human on the plan—

"Fuck off, Niall. I bet your 'superior athleticism' wouldn't last you one ballet class."

Most of the time. She was a ray of sunshine most of the time.

Harry looked up from his phone and saw Y/n talking to a few of his teammates. They were all snickering and laughing as if what she said was funny, which only made her fists curl at her sides, and while he would've found it rather entertaining for her to take a swing at one of them, he would rather not have his friends and girlfriend be on bad terms.

"You ready to go?" Harry asked, sliding his hand over Y/n's and unfurling her fist.

Her face was set in a scowl as she looked over at the boys she'd been speaking to. For the most part they got along great, Niall specifically. They had a sibling-like relationship and often teased one another, but Niall must've said something about figure skating, and that was one thing that would make you public enemy number one in Y/n's eyes. And if she was already grumpy? Harry met his friend's gaze and tried to send a clear message with his eyes: Cut it out.

Because Y/n could throw a punch, and while she was significantly smaller than his teammates, she had a mean right hook.

Y/n gave Harry a nonverbal grunt that she was ready to leave the rink. But she did lean into the tiny kiss he placed on her cheek, which was something.

"Yeah, Harry, take your girl home. I think she's on her period or something."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, time to go," Harry said quickly, pulling Y/n away from his teammates and sending one final look at Niall.

As they walked to the car, Y/n handed her keys to Harry unceremoniously and slipped her hand out of his to cross her arms over her chest. He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears, so he let her stew in her bad mood for a little while. She must've had a rough training session, which could mean she messed up a lot or hardly at all, but Y/n was an extremely tough critic, so it was hard to be sure of which one if he wasn't there to watch.

Y/n's arms stayed crossed as they drove back to his apartment. Harry was fine with it, knowing the grumpiness wouldn't last. It normally didn't with Harry, a fact that he was extremely proud of. Except when he rested his hand on her thigh—close to her knee, he wasn't trying to start anything—she shook it off and shifted so her body faced the window.

"What was that for?"

"For being friends with neanderthals," she muttered. "Especially that one."

"'That one' is your friend, bub," Harry said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "And wait—does that make me a neanderthal?"

"He was out of line. And no," she said, still facing the window, the last part almost an afterthought.

"I'll make sure he apologizes," he promised.

Harry leaned over at a stop light to kiss Y/n's temple. She didn't shrug him off or push him away, which was a good sign, though Harry now had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. He didn't say anything the rest of the drive, happy to let his girlfriend be grumpy for the rest of the drive. As long as it wasn't directed at him, he was fine.

When they arrived, Harry shouldered both of their bags and handed her the keys to his apartment. "Go ahead and get in the shower. I'll meet you in there in a few minutes."

At that, he could practically see Y/n's grumpy facade start to crumble, but she nodded wordlessly and trudged up the stairs. Harry followed suit, setting their bags down and rustling through his small kitchen, trying to remember where he kept the emergency stash of her favorite snacks.

He realized that it was probably Y/n's time of the month. She became particularly moody around then, and it only took a couple minutes for Harry to put the pieces together. Should Niall have said anything? No, but the fact that he was right probably pissed Y/n off even more.

Harry grabbed a few things before heading down the hallway, the sound of water running growing louder as he got closer to the bathroom. He headed to his room first, setting Y/n's snacks and a couple other things down before kicking off his shoes and leaving to join Y/n like he promised.

"Need some help?"

Y/n was just standing beneath the spray coming from the shower head, not washing her hair or her face, the first steps in a detailed routine. She shrugged as he stepped into the shower, his hands smoothing over her shoulders before kissing the top of one gently.

"What's hurting?" he asked, continuing to snake his arms around her to hold her close.

"My boobs, my back, my ego, and I have the worst cramps," she huffed, but Harry detected the slight shift in her voice. Now that they were alone, she was trying not to cry. "He should try playing his precious sport while his uterine lining is shedding."

"I know," Harry said, reaching for the shampoo she used and squirting some in his hand. "Scalp only, right?"

Y/n nodded, some of the tension leaving her body when he started massaging the shampoo into her scalp. He worked slowly, trying to let the day wash off of her, murmuring to her and kissing parts of her body occasionally. When the actual bathing part of the shower was over, Harry turned Y/n around to face him, his kisses becoming more drawn out, sensual. His hands were soft, but firm, trying to knead away the soreness in her breasts and back.

Y/n sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. Both of them could feel him growing hard, it was hard not to give the circumstances, but neither of them said anything about it. Harry wasn't really focused on himself at the moment.

"Want me to use the shower head?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I want you."

"Yeah?"

Peeking one eye open, she said, "Don't be so smug about it."

Harry chuckled softly and reached a hand up to hold one side of her face. "Me? Never."

For the first time all afternoon, Y/n grinned, but it quickly turned into a frown. "We can't."

"Baby, we're in the shower."

"Still, I think it's gross." But even as she said it, she moaned when he began to kiss her again.

They had this debate every time Y/n was on her period, but Harry always managed to find some way around it. For her sake, not his. He knew they both wanted to, but Y/n never believed him when he insisted he didn't mind if she was on her period. His solution was usually the detachable showerhead, but she didn't seem to want that this time.

"Here," Harry said, an idea sparking. He sat down, the tiles cold against his skin as he brought Y/n down with him. She didn't follow though, staying standing, her arms crossed over her body. "Would you get down here? I promise I won't even look. See?"

Harry covered his eyes with one hand, then raised them to show that his eyes were closed underneath.

"You promise you won't look?"

"Won't even watch you come, which is arguably my favorite part," Harry said, only half teasing.

He kept his promise to keep his eyes closed, so he couldn't tell if or when Y/n decided, though when he felt her settle over his lap, he had a pretty good idea. She draped herself over him, tucking herself close to him when he was fully settled inside her. Harry couldn't tell if she just wanted to sit like this or if she wanted more, but all he got was a contented sigh in his ear, which didn't really help.

"Okay, you can go now," Y/n said after a few minutes had passed, voice soft and a little slow as if she'd just woken up from a long nap.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little. "I have to keep my eyes closed and do all the work?"

Y/n only nodded, not moving from where she was tightly hugging him. Harry was amused, but not all that surprised. She despised the term, but Y/n was without a doubt the textbook definition of a pillow princess. She had a pretty tough exterior, but once they were alone, she melted, becoming more needy and letting Harry take control. She liked being praised for taking all of him and behaving for him. His good girl, Harry once called her, and after she lit up from it, he called her that anytime they were intimate. He thrived off of it, Y/n's eagerness to please and the way she let him have his way with her.

Harry maneuvered himself a little, earning a few gasps and whimpers from Y/n. When he finally found a good enough position to hold her while not slipping on the slick tiles, he nudged the side of her cheek with his nose.

"I need at least a kiss first." He was keeping his word, so his eyes were still shut, but when Y/n slotted her lips over his and gripped the wet curls that were pressed to the nape of his neck, he grinned, focusing on the sensation of her kiss. With his eyes closed, Harry felt everything. Every shift of her hips, every clench she made around him, it was almost torturous, but he held off driving into her until he thought she was ready. "Thank you, bub. Be as loud as you want, okay?"

That only made her squeeze him tighter, and Harry took that as his signal to get started. It was slow as he tried to find the right rhythm, listening closely to how Y/n was reacting. Usually he was able to tell by the little faces she made, but he went off her sounds and how hard she squeezed her arms around his neck.

Harry murmured in Y/n's ear the whole time, letting her know how good she felt around him and to touch herself however she wanted. By the end of it, she was all molten limbs and tired, satisfied eyes, kissing all over his face as he smoothed back her hair. Harry gave her a couple minutes to come back down from her high before he helped her stand back up and let her get dressed while he showered properly.

Later that night, Y/n was sleeping in Harry's bed, a heating pad strapped to her back while she stayed tucked into his chest. They'd watched a couple movies and eaten her favorite snacks, and at one point Y/n crawled into his lap to ride his thigh when she claimed she needed another orgasm. Harry was happy to give her one, happy to let her use him how she liked, though he had to help her hips along after a couple minutes.

All the grumpiness from earlier was gone. She had nothing but kind words and sweet nothings and little jokes she mumbled to him as they continued watching a show they started together, which was when she promptly fell asleep. Harry was right behind her, he just had to send a text first.

Y/n's ballet training is at 8am on Wednesday. Be there.

Harry had promised Y/n Niall would apologize, and he couldn't think of a better way than his friend struggling to plié. He didn't need to add or else or any other kind of threat. It was unnecessary. Niall had pissed off Y/n, and he knew Harry would make him pay if he didn't make it right.

After sending the text he set his phone down and settled deeper into the pillows. Y/n shuffled around a little, then murmured, "Little spoon."

Harry understood immediately, turning over so she could wrap her arms around him and rest her cheek on his back. With that, Y/n fell back asleep, and Harry gave one last kiss to her knuckles before following suit.

[steviewashere]

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

[rimunagenius]

Would you be down to do a Kate fic where reader is a new transfer and Kate keeps seeing her all over campus and is quickly crushing on her (like she’s down BAD) Then one day when she’s going to meet Caitlin for lunch/coffee/something lol she sees her walking with r laughing then saying goodbye. Kate immediately starts interrogating CC the second she’s within earshot because she wants to find out everything she can about her mystery girl. CC laughs and says she transferred to play soccer and they’re in x class together. Then she’s like as fun as this is I’m starving so can we go eat now. From there she literally sees her everywhere because her and CC start to hang out outside of class, once she finds out r also played basketball in high school and college (focusing on soccer when she transferred) she invites her to pickup games or practice when she knows they’ll be using the managers to scrimmage and this is where Kate finally meets her and is officially smitten. R thinks she’s absolutely adorable and hopes this is the girl Cait said she wanted to introduce her to.

Everywhere

ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 2.2k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , other than that, none that i can think of other than the use of y/n.

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: okay so anon, i love this idea!!…i loved it and im so sorry it took so long to write it and i may possibly consider writing a part two! I love the idea of Kate being so smitten for reader. she’s a sucker for a pretty lady! also i hope it’s okay that i kinda made the reader a ghost to kate..like kate needed to be actively LOOKING so it’d be better for when she actually saw her and i feel like this could’ve have been better so im sorry if it didn’t meet your expectations 😭

Everywhere. You were literally everywhere. She was definitely not complaining about it though. You were actually so beautiful. You were everywhere but near her. You took over her whole mind since this morning.

She saw you on what she assumed to be your first day. You looked like a lost puppy walking around looking for your class. "Hey, you doing okay?" Kate approached you, sliding one of the sides of her headphones behind her ear. God, you looked even prettier up close.

"Uh, yeah? I don't know where the science building is. I've been looking for about twenty minutes and no luck." You sighed, checking your phone, your friend Caitlin texting you while you pulled your schedule up.

"I can help. If you want?" Kate gave you a warm smile, looking down at your phone. She recognized the professor, having had him her sophomore year. It was a general education requirement for her major. "Oh, I've had him before. I can walk you and show you."

"That'd be great, thanks." The walk was quiet, kind of awkward. Kate was nervous to make small talk. She never thought this far ahead. Hell, she didn't even know she was walking up to you until you responded to her.

Kate thought about it the whole way to her next class. She thought about it the whole way back to her home. She thought about you. The way you smiled at her when she offered her help. She didn't know what was happening.

She's seen many pretty girls before and felt attracted to them but not like this. She's barely known you—talked to you for a total of three minutes...It wasn't possible. It wasn't going to be a thing. She'd probably never see you again. This campus was too big.

Kate had thought about you, and she wouldn’t lie and say that she didn’t try looking for you either. She’d take her time walking to classes throughout that day and to Carver Arena. She’d stop to get coffee and snacks she wasn’t going to finish. She just wanted to see you. You were the most prettiest girl she has ever seen. She tried to find you all the rest of the day. With no luck, and her taking her sweet time to get to practice, she didn’t see you.

When she left for a later class, right after practice, after practice had ended at six pm, she had finally seen you and Caitlin walking together. It was the most shocking yet, anxiety inducing thing she’s seen since she left you earlier that morning.

She was a ways behind you both, recognizing Caitlin first, still in her practice uniform. You were both heading the same way she was, so she just decided to stay behind instead of going to talk to Cait. She wasn’t going to go anywhere near you both, scared of being that close again and having to introduce herself. She’d be an absolute mess. It barely worked this morning, and she was not taking her chances.

It wasn’t until she saw you walking away, meeting up with this other girl, and saying goodbye to Caitlin, that she decided to catch Caitlin before she left. “Caitlin!” Her walk speeding up, looking in your direction making sure you didn’t hear her.

Caitlin looked behind her to see her frantic teammate running up to her. “Yes, Kate?” She smiled nervously, watching the blonde dart her eyes between you and her.

“Who is that?” Kate looked to you, blushing. Pointing subtly towards you to make sure Caitlin knew exactly who she was talking about. That’s when Caitlin smiled. “That’s my friend! She just transferred here. She’s playing soccer now.”

“What do you mean ‘she plays soccer now’? What did she play before?” Kate wanted to know everything about you. She already knew you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. But she wanted to know more.

“She played basketball too. Got a full ride to UC Berkeley with it.” Caitlin nodded her head, continuing on the path she was headed to. “We were on our way to our class, but her soccer teammate needed her for a minute so I said i’d meet her there.”

“Oh, okay. How do you know her? Has she always been that pretty? How many classes do you guys have together? Maybe I can “walk” you to it?” Kate started to ramble any question that came to mind about you. All of which were about anything and everything besides your name.

“Oh, my god. Kate. Slow down. Why so many questions?” Caitlin laughed, already having a small idea as to what was happening. “Just ask her tomorrow.”

Kate’s throat went dry. What did she mean? “I’m sorry, what?” Kate choked out. Caitlin gave Kate a blank stare.

“I invited her to our pickup game tomorrow. Just talk to her then.” Kate was already so excited but dreading tomorrow.

She really really wanted to see you, but she started to think about how you’d see her play and she’d have to possibly guard you. This was a lot. Kate definitely did not let this go. She was starting to get too nervous. She was getting self conscious. She wanted to impress you.

Kate got up the next morning to a text from Caitlin asking to get there earlier than planned for a shoot around before the pickup game. The reason why was very vague but she decided to go early. Caitlin had asked her multiple other times to meet up and practice shots. That’s where Kate had developed better confidence in her far-range shots. Her three game improving significantly.

But the more Kate thought about it, she didn’t even get your name yesterday. Not even from Caitlin.

Her nerves were through the roof as she walked out the house and set on her way to Carver.

Her face grew hot and red, suddenly her relaxed and otherwise friendly demeanor turned shy and antsy as she got closer and closer to you both, standing on the court while she set her stuff down. That’s why she wanted her early…forgetting to mention the why.

“Hey, Cait.” Kate walked up to Caitlin, her eyes darting between you and her. She was so nervous. You were just so pretty and so close she just couldn’t take it.

“Hey! This is my friend, y/n.” Caitlin looked to Kate, and then to you. You shook Kate’s hand. Immediately recognizing the pretty girl who had helped you find your class yesterday.

You smiled. Yesterday after she walked you all the way to your class, before you had walked in you thanked her and watched her go on her way. She looked nervous but so did you. You walked up to the door but stopped to look behind you. What made it more awkward is you both caught eachothers eye at the same time.

Cait💕

“You find your class okay?”

“yeah! some really nice girl helped me find my class.”

“Oh, awesome! The people here are way nicer than the people from California huh?”

Caitlin and you had grown up together. Two girls who loved the game of basketball. You got a full ride to UC Berkeley. Iowa skipping over you for an offer but getting Caitlin. You honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You got to experience life outside of Iowa. It was a fun experience. You loved California but still keeping in touch with back home. You would’ve stayed if your injury your sophomore season didn’t pull you out of the sport completely.

Tearing your meniscus, ACL, PCL, and MCL. You tore them over a span of a couple years. Your ACL and PCL being the first to go in your junior season of highschool. The MCL your freshman year of college. You had been halfway into your sophomore season at Berkeley when you tore your meniscus.

You were told you were able to recover and go back, but your coach didn’t like that you were getting injured and submitted an appeal to have your full ride taken. That’s when the dean advised you to find a different career outside of basketball. So, you entered the transfer portal, losing your full ride, and ended back up in Iowa for senior year. You had played soccer growing up as well with your brother. You kept up with it outside of basketball only small scrimmages, nothing too serious so you weren’t injured for basketball. But Iowa had a great soccer team and you missed home, so you decided to come back and come back to soccer.

“They’re way nicer for sure…and wayyy cuter😉”

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy”

“you laughed at, ‘Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy’ ”

You were excited to meet the friends Caitlin made here in Iowa City after you left. Wanted to meet the women she talked so highly of. So when she texted you last night asking if you wanted to shoot around before doing a pick up game, you immediately said yes. Something about wanted to introduce you to a friend, hence having to get there early.

“Oh, you walked me to my class yesterday!” You stuck your hand out and waited for Kate to shake it.

Kate had been staring at you. She didn’t mean it in a rude or freaky way. She just was in shock. There was no way you knew Caitlin. “Uh, yeah! I’m Kate. I don’t think we formally introduced ourselves yesterday.” Kate giggled.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. There was no way Kate was the cute girl you mentioned to her yesterday. No way. And there’s no way you had Kate Martin giggling at a handshake. This elicited a random giggle and ‘no way’. You and Kate turned your heads and looked at her confused. It finally clicked to Caitlin.

“Oh! Nothing nothing. Just that—Oh! Look! My ball!” She walked away to the ball she left at half court, leaving you two to stand in awkward silence before opting to get started. You guys were going for about an hour before Caitling and Kate walked up to the small team Caitlin put together. You watched them two walk away, shaking your head before walking over to your team.

That’s when Kate turned to look back at you. Watching you immediately make friends with the girls in your team. Which happened to be her friends too. Kate turned back to the team, a huddle being held…Kate’s face grew even more rosy when she saw her best friend caught on to what was happening. Caitlin had been giving her the biggest smirk when they made eye contact. Was it really that obvious that she had a crush on you? Could she even call it that? She just met you formally seconds ago.

The shoot around is where you and Kate really got to know each other. Exchanging stories and experiences, her asking all kinds of questions of what it was like in California.

How you knew Caitlin, which she was shocked to find out that you grew up here. That you and Caitlin were neighbors. She learned more than what Caitlin had been willing to tell her. Something about “you’ll know soon enough,” or “i’ll let her decide.”

It didn’t help that she had to guard you during the whole game, even though her being absolutely smitten from the moment Caitlin told her your name wasn’t already awkward enough.

The small praises you gave her while playing went immediately to Kate’s head. A pretty girl like you complimenting her. She returned them back, feeling less scared of her antics when she saw how you reacted to them too. It was the most nervous and overall mindfucking pick up game she’s ever played in her life. And she grew up with playing with bigger and stronger boys. Hell, she’s made it to national championship games and this by far took the cake for the most absurd and anxious game.

But you, made her immediately nervous. And she knew you knew. The small smiles and giggles you gave her whenever you saw her reaction to your compliments and praises, your touches to her body when you would pivot around her while dribbling, your hands brushing her hips when trying to blow past her and cut to the basket.

Needless to say, you both knew the effect you had on eachother. Which is why it was the longest yet shortest game ever. Because when it ended, and you had work to do and practice to attend, so you started to say your goodbyes to everyone.

You said goodbye to the new girls you made friends with, getting their numbers and then pulling your oldest friend aside. “Please tell me that’s her.” Your face burning up from the exertion and the thought of the tall blonde you could feel was looking at you from behind Caitlin.

“Possibly.” Cait raised her brows, mischevious smile on her face.

“She’s possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen, Cait. Please tell me that’s her.” You glanced behind Caitlin again, catching those oh, so pretty blue eyes. You both looking away immediately, you both blushing.

“I’ll talk to you after your practice.” She hugged you and you started on your way to your practice. Looking back to catch one last longing look to Kate. It was definitely her.

She was already standing and talking to Caitlin, big smile on her face, hair now down. God, she looked good.

“Please invite her to more of these.” Kate pleaded with Caitlin. That immediately earned a loud chuckle from the brunette. This was so entertaining. Her best friends having the hots for eachother was the most interesting thing to happen to her.

“I will.” Caitlin patted her hand on her best friends chest, starting to walk away. “I fucking knew it.” She said while she was a good distance from Kate.

“What?” Kate asked, already wishing another pick up game would happen or that she’d run into you soon.

“Oh, nothing.” Caitlin walked away, knowing she had to do something to keep you guys interacting. This game of trying to get you both together was more fun than, dare she say, the final four tournament??

[cjlouwho]

The Only Exception

Had to write a little fic from Tommy's perspective based off of The Only Exception by Paramore. Read below or on ao3!

For so long, love felt to Tommy like wearing a turtleneck on a summer day. It was uncomfortable. Itchy, sweaty, and no matter how much you tugged it away from your neck it came right back to choke you again.

That was the type of love he'd grown up with. A love that was never truly love at all.

A father who failed more often than he succeeded. Who cheated and lied and spewed words of hatred. Who treated him like gum on the bottom of his shoe. Who treated his mom even worse.

And his mom would get sick of it. She'd say she was done. She'd cry and yell and pack her bags- only her bags- and she'd look Tommy straight in the eyes and tell him, “This is what love looks like, Thomas, this is all it is.”

During those times, Tommy's dad would beg and plead for her to stay. He couldn't make it through life without her, he didn't know what he'd do if she left, he was nothing without her, she was nothing without him.

He'd wipe away her tears and take her suitcase from her hand and lead her back to the bedroom. Tommy would make himself a bowl of cereal, sit on the couch, watch cartoons until after the sun had set, then he'd tuck himself into bed.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

When he got older and left for the army, there wasn't really time for love. There was time for quickies in secret hookup spots around base. There was time to learn more about himself than he dared speak about. There was time to get close to a guy who laughed in his face when Tommy told him that maybe one day they could leave the military and get a place together.

You're living in a fantasy world, Kinard, so here's some reality. Guys like us weren't made to be loved.

He was young and naive then.

He learned to grow up quickly.

He tried love after he first became a firefighter. But love was closing his eyes and imagining someone else when he was intimate with her. It was taking extra shifts at work so he had an excuse not to invite her over. It was telling her he had to sleep alone because he had nightmares.

It was unfair to them both.

It wasn't love.

Because love doesn't exist.

Tommy learned to be comfortable with being alone. Learned to keep himself busy with hobbies so he was content when he walked into his empty house.

Learned to enjoy another man's touch for a night, and be gone long before the sun rose.

Learned to fake girlfriends at work, be the guy who has someone new every other month. Let everyone call him a player because that was better than any other word they'd use if they knew the truth.

Love doesn't exist. Not for someone like me.

Even at Harbor, once he decided to be honest with himself and the people around him, love felt like an illusion.

There was the guy who was still deep in the closet, who didn't even want to look at Tommy when they were in bed together.

Then the guy who paraded him around and let everyone, including his ex-boyfriend, know he was with a firefighter.

The guy who in the end said he only asked him out because Tommy saved his life and he felt he owed him that much.

Just stop trying.

That's what he did. He stayed in his bubble of work, hobbies, home.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Every day the same.

Then he got a phone call from someone he hadn't heard from in a while.

And he literally owed his life to this guy, so of course he said yes to the most insane plan he'd ever heard.

Then suddenly he was meeting two new guys that had joined the 118 after he left. He was reconnecting with Hen, he was getting texts from Howie, he was gaining a new friend in Eddie, and he had plans to teach this Evan how to fly.

Evan with a beautiful smile and a hot body and the most adorable personality he'd ever seen.

He needed to keep his distance, because he didn't know Evan very well and he could be reading this all wrong.

Which, apparently he was, because Evan seemed to hate him and the last thing he needed was for this overall sweet guy with beautiful eyes to hate him.

He needed to do something to fix it. Needed to make things right so he didn't lose this friendship that hadn't even had a chance to begin.

So, he went to Evan's place and...

Oh.

It's funny how a person can really change your perspective of things.

Maybe the only time love doesn't last is when it's not meant to. Maybe there are exceptions. And maybe it'll find you when you least expect it. Maybe it'll find you in the loft of an apartment you've never been in before. Or during a messy first date that could've ended better on both ends.

Maybe love is an attempt to get your coffee order right when you've never even discussed whether or not you like coffee.

Or it's an insane ask to be a date to a wedding, because even though you barely know each other his family wants to meet you. He's talked about you to them.

It's found in a hug at a bachelor party, or in a “be safe” when you're going into work.

Maybe love is a kiss at the entrance of a hospital. So unexpected you can't help but vocalize your surprise.

Maybe it's not caring if you have evidence of a make-out session all over your face because you like this guy and you don't care who knows it.

Or maybe it's being there when someone from your past pops up and you can't quite vocalize how you feel.

Love is a late night dinner after a bad day where you can express your worries and discuss parental trauma. Love is knowing when to turn the conversation on its heels and flirt because life's been too serious lately and sometimes you need a reason to smile.

Love is found in the person you lean on when you're upset or angry. It's who you go to with your tears, whether they're from sadness or rage.

It's learning each other's flaws and not running away. It's learning to love their mess, all of their imperfections, and sticking it out because they're worth it.

It's a heated argument that no one wins and you forget what started it in the first place. It's in not giving a reason to pack your bags and threaten to leave, but in hashing it out because the person is worth staying for.

It's in honesty and thinking before you speak and being faithful.

It's in a hospital room after an injury that almost takes your life. It's when you open your eyes and your person is seated beside you looking worse than you do because they haven't slept in three days.

Love is cooking dinner together, and laughing so hard that soda shoots out your nose because only one of you knows how to follow a recipe.

Love is running to you when you show up at their station unannounced because they forgot their lunch in your fridge.

It's a kiss in the middle of a station that once held your biggest insecurities hostage. It's a hand on your back leading you up the stairs because everyone will want to see you.

Love is a gasp and a plead for more. A whisper that it's never felt like this before. It's strong arms gripping your back, wanting to feel you, wanting to kiss you, wanting to see you.

Love is holding you close until you fall asleep, until the sun rises, and even long after that.

Love is breaking through every rule you've made for yourself without even realizing it. Breaking down each and every barrier you've put in your own way and doing it with such grace and care that it brings tears to your eyes if you think about it too much.

Love is the person lying beside you right now, snoring so loudly you can't sleep, but you don't even care. You watch them, place a hand over their chest to feel their heartbeat because sometimes you wonder if they truly exist.

Love is curling into your touch, smacking their lips as they tug you closer and resume snoring right in your ear.

Love is here.

Love is present.

Love is real.

Love is Evan.

[homestylehughes]

18.

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proposing to his girlfriend, the girl he knew he would marry since he was 18.

warning(s): absolutely none. pure fluff, and cuteness :)

word count: 1.4k

authors note: hi loves!! my inner directioner came out when writing this fic! this fic is loosely based off of 18 by one direction (I listened to FOUR, the album, the whole time while writing this. 11/10 would recommend). this was so much fun to write, it kinda gives me romcom, or romantic movies vibes? I love writing jack all soft and cute. I hope you guys enjoy, like and reblog if you do! I hope you are all happy and healthy. much love as always <3

“I have loved you since we were 18, long before we thought the same things.”

Ever since Jack laid eyes on yn at 18 he knew she'd be the person he'd spend the rest of his life with. Jack can remember the day he met her, like it was yesterday. He had just got drafted by the New Jersey Devils as the number one pick, which threw him into a new life of superstardom. 

In the midst of being the 1st overall draft pick, the Yankees invited him to a game, having one of the best seats in the stadium, he couldn't help but smile over the fact that this was now his life. As the fifth inning came to an end, Jack decided to make his way to the bathroom. As he walks through the busy crowd, weaving in and out of groups of people. Finally making it to the bathroom, doing his business before quickly heading out. 

As he walks out of the bathroom, his phone dings from a text, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see that it's from his mom. Just as he begins to type out a response, he feels himself bump into someone. bringing his head up to see the prettiest girl he's ever seen in all 18 years of his existence, with a hot dog smashed into her chest. He's so close to her that he can see the red and yellow stains from the ketchup and mustard littered across her white as snow Yankees jersey. 

“Oh my gosh” the girl says, her head hanging low as she looks at the hot dog stained jersey.

“Shit. I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.” jack embarrassingly  rambles out 

“It's..okay. It's nothing, it's just a jersey and hot dog. No biggie” she says, now looking at jack. 

“No it's a big deal, it's my fault. Here let me help you clean up.” Jack offers, as waves of guilt run through his veins.

“Are you sure? You don't have to, don't want to waste any more of your time.” the girl says

“If anyones wasting your time it's me, come over here” Jack says, taking the hot dog from her, throwing it in the trash, before turning around to look at her jersey. 

“It's pretty bad isn't it?” she asks him

“It is.. How about this, how about I buy you a new one?” 

“I can't accept that, it was an accident. Plus i dont your name.” the girl says, holding her ground as she looks directly in his eyes. 

Jack can't help but get lost in her eyes as they look at each other. 

“Yes you will, and my names jack.” flashing her smile before grabbing her hand

“Now come with me, we're going to go get you a new jersey and a hot dog, and anything else your heart desires, got it?” Jack says, briefly looking at the girl, who sends him a nod in approval. Turning back around, as he continues walking them through the crowd.

“Yn!” she says loudly behind him 

“What?” Jack asks, turning back around, confused by what she said to him.

“Yn, my name is Yn. Only fair if you know mine now” yn says with a small smile

“Well yn, what size jersey are you?” Jack asks, looking at yn, who has a slight smile on her face as she looks over all of the different jerseys.

“Umm..medium? Can I get the white one?” she asks 

“Of course” Jack sends her a smile as he talks to the worker, quickly getting the jersey for the girl. 

Sending the guy behind the counter a thank you, picking up the bad before handing it to yn.

“Jack..thank you so much” 

“You're very welcome, now on to a hotdog” he says with a smile

“Okat only on one condition.” she says

“And that is?”

“You let me buy them. I can't let you buy me anything else today.” yn says, looking at him sternly.

“Yes ma’am” 

“And so help me god if you get mayo on your hot dog, i will break down in tears.” 

“Mayo? On a hot dog?” he questions 

“Yes. it's sick and people actually do it.” she laughs 

“ well no, mayo on my hotdog for me” he smiles to her

“Good. That's what I like to hear,” she says, lifting her head up, sending him a smile before getting in line. 

Jack looks at her for a second, and in that moment he knew, hed just found the person he'd spend the rest of his life with. 

– 

“Quinn. I'm freaking out." Jack says as he paces on the dock.

“Jack calm down, she's going to say yes. Take a deep breath "Quinn says as soothing as he can, in an attempt to calm his brother's nerves.

“You don't know that” jack snaps at him 

“Yes I do, you guys have been inseparable for the last 5 years. You two are the same person, and can share the same brain cell. She will say yes.'' Quinn says. walking over to Jack, bringing him into a hug, hoping to help calm down.

Jack pulls back after a few moments, murmuring a soft thank you, before taking a deep breath, straightening his back before turning around to look out at the lake. The calm water seems to calm his nerves for a few moments. 

“She's on her way” quinn says, laying a hand on jacks shoulder giving it a squeeze before turning around heading off the dock, leaving jack alone with his thoughts. 

A few moments later he can hear the sound of the footsteps on the dock behind him, turning slightly to see her walking towards him in the prettiest white dress, the bottom of it flowing in the wind as she walks. 

“Hi, pretty girl” jack says while grabbing her hand pulling her to stand in front of him

“Hi” she says breathlessly like she'd been holding her breath the whole way here.

“I don't really know where to start but I'll start by doing this,” Jack says before slowly dropping down to one knee. Yns hands quickly move to cover her mouth, as she looks down at Jack with tears welling her eyes.

“Yn. you've been my rock, my best friend, my biggest supporter, and most importantly the love of my life for the last 5 years.” 

Yn lets out a choked sob that causes Jack to pause for a moment, to regain his breaths he can feel his eyes beginning to water, as he continues.

“I knew you would be the person I'd spend the rest of my life with the moment I crashed into you, spreading mustard and ketchup all over you. Even at that moment I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. Thank you for always making me feel seen and loved, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you. I love you, and I promise I'll love you forever, until my heart gives out. So would you do the greatest honor of being my wife?” 

“Yes. yes. A million times yes, jack.” she says as she struggles to hold back her tears as she launches herself onto jack. The both of them wrapped in each other's embrace, tears of joy falling from both of their eyes. 

Jack pulls back enough to slide the perfectly cut, sized ring onto her hand. the ring going on perfectly, as if it was the last piece of the puzzle, laying perfectly on her hand. 

“Jack it's beautiful” yn beams at him, tears still falling, hitting her cheeks like raindrops on a window. 

“Not as beautiful as you” Jack says, bringing his fingers under her cheeks wiping them away. 

“I love you” she says 

“I've loved you since we were 18, '' Jack says softly before pulling her into a kiss. 

“I wanna love like you made me feel, When we were eighteen”

[works-of-fanfiction]

Kiss and Make Up || Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: With the couple on a break, it’s hard for Daniel to see Y/N, especially when she’s looking so good in his favourite dress.

Song: Kiss and Make Up - Dua Lipa & BLACKPINK

Warnings: 18+ oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. A little bit of swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

a/n: I think (???) I’m getting a little better at writing smut. one day I swear I will write one without giggling after every sentence. enjoy!

Daniel's blood boils as he watches her, watches his girl at the centre of attention of his fellow drivers. He wants to be angry at her for entertaining them in the first place, but he's angrier at his so-called friends for gawking at her and passing off their obvious flirting as 'just being nice'. It's annoying because she knows she looks good - incredible, in fact - an emerald green satin dress hanging perfectly on her body, displaying just enough leg to be considered dangerous. It bothered him even more that he chose that particular dress, and now she was parading around in it for everyone to see; for everyone to stare and drool over her. He didn't like it one bit, but he didn't have a choice. 

It was his fault that they were on a break. He'd lashed out, said horrible things. Tension had been brewing between them for a couple of weeks and she could sense he was about to burst. She hadn't done anything wrong; he could see that now. He'd had more than enough time to sit with his thoughts and come to regret everything he'd said, but she hadn't been interested in hearing his apology. At first, in his anger, he'd blamed her friends. He was convinced their influence had led her to her decision, that they'd been whispering in her ear and plotting against him for some time. However, deep down he knew it was nobody's fault but his own. 

The 'will he, won't he' situation at Alpha Tauri had gotten the best of him. His overwhelming desire to race took up all of his attention, leaving Y/N completely on the sidelines. She'd understood, of course she had. Racing was Daniel's dream and she knew how important it was for him to find a seat and get back out on the track, but when things seemed to get difficult and look uncertain, Daniel directed his frustrations towards her. 

"You're a fucking coward, d'you know that? Who are you to stand here and speak to me like that?" 

"Oh, drop the bigger person act, Y/N. It wasn't too long ago that you were going through a rough time and - " 

"Don't you fucking dare. You know that doesn't compare to the way you've been behaving. It is completely different." 

"You know how important this is to me. Sorry, but I think I'm allowed to be a little stressed." He held his hands up in mock surrender which only irritated her further.

"A little stressed, yes. A total asshole? No." 

"Where are you going?" He asked, watching her scoop up her phone and keys from the counter and stuff them into her pocket.

"Anywhere you are not. I can't be around you when you're like this, Daniel." Her voice cracked as she turned away, but she didn't allow him to see her cry. He may not have approved of her being the bigger person, but it's what she had to do. A text a couple of hours later confirmed her need for space, and after spending thirty straight minutes trying to type a response, Daniel realised he had to respect her wishes.

“Here.” Max interrupts, sliding a drink into Daniel’s hand.

“What’s this?”

“I couldn’t stand and watch you stare at her any longer. At least with a drink in your hand you actually look like you’re at this party and not just a creepy stalker.” He chuckles into his glass, the joke going over Daniel’s head, not even bringing the slightest smirk to his lips.

Max gulps, wincing a little at the strength of his drink. “Just go talk to her.” He says, eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.

“I can’t. She wants space and I have to respect that.”

“Yeah, but anyone can see you’re not okay with that…”

Daniel knew Max had a point. As much as he wanted to give Y/N the space she needed and do everything he could to fix their relationship, he hated being away from her. He hated sitting across the room whilst she pretended he wasn’t there. She hadn’t looked at him once throughout the entire evening and it was starting to aggravate him. He needed to talk to her, even if it was just to find out how she was doing. He didn’t even know if that was a question he had the right to ask, but he wanted to anyway.

Plus, the way she was strutting around in those heels and playfully fixing her hair every few minutes was driving him insane. His eyes couldn’t resist following the trail from her feet, up her legs and to her hips. If she so much as leaned over the bar or stretched to grab something, he’d see beneath the thin green satin and hopefully find out she was wearing tiny, or perhaps no underwear.

He fidgets uncomfortably in his seat, setting his glass down on the table before his knuckles turn white from gripping it so tightly. As Y/N takes Carlos’ hand and twirls beneath his arm, Daniel jumps up from the stool, holding onto the table to steady his feet. “Hey, come on. You know they’re good friends.” Max warns, holding an arm out to try and stop him.

“Make your mind up, Max. You told me to go and talk to her.” He doesn’t even look at Max as he speaks, as his gaze remains fixed on Y/N whilst she dances with the Ferrari driver. There’s nothing suggestive between their dance, and it’s not the first time Daniel has seen them together like this, but he’s suddenly not as comfortable with it as he usually is.

“I think you should calm down a bit first.” Max tries to be stern with the older driver, but he knows his words are going through one ear and straight out the other side. Daniel glances at the Dutchman and gives only a second of thought to his words, then chooses to ignore them entirely.

Stepping past Max’s arm, he makes his way into the crowd and closer to Y/N. Mid-conversation, Charles and Pierre’s heads turn to the Australian as he weaves around clumsy partygoers, almost parting the room in two to get through. The two of them shuffle closer to the bar to get a better view as he reaches Carlos and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Can I cut in?” He asks, once again not bothering to look at who he’s speaking to. Instead he looks down at Y/N, who glares up at him with cold, unblinking eyes.

“Sure.” Carlos mutters, stepping aside, failing to notice Y/N tightening her grip on his hand to try and stop him. Daniel takes his place, his hands awkwardly hovering near her waist.

“Are you going to wrap your arms around me, or just stand there?” She asks abruptly, her tone coming out a lot more aggressively than she’d intended.

Daniel’s hands find her waist and pull her closer, making sure no one else can hear their conversation. Her hands are pressed against his chest awkwardly, all attention concentrating on her feet so she doesn’t fall.

“What do you want, Daniel?” She sighs, exasperation and downright exhaustion evident in her voice. This makes Daniel’s stomach turn and part of him wants to fall to the ground and beg for her forgiveness. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be the one to make her feel like this. She was disappointed in him, and he was kicking himself for ever uttering a bad word to her.

“I need to apologise - “

“No, you just needed to get me on my own away from the guys.”

Her icy tone catches him off guard, but he feels he deserves it. As much as he’s desperate to finally apologise, he can’t deny that seeing her spending her night with everyone but him was making him jealous. He’d watched her friendships with the drivers blossom over time, especially Carlos and Lance, yet seeing their arms around her and smiles aimed in her direction tonight drove him crazy.

“Am I wrong?” She mocks, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his neck for the sake of her own comfort.

Daniel chooses not to answer, which is an answer in itself. She sniggers, looking off to the side to see the group all engaged in conversation with one another. She knows they’re all putting on an act and pretending not to eavesdrop. Those drivers love a gossip just as much as the next person.

“I don’t like seeing you with them.” Daniel finally admits, his voice low. He doesn’t intend for the entire grid to know his business.

“It’s never bothered you before.”

“Well this time is different.”

“How?”

“Because you’re not speaking to me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Silence falls between the couple, Y/N’s hold around Daniel’s neck loosening. He reaches up and grabs her hands, readjusting them and holding her wrists tightly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” She asks, glaring up at him, a devious smile poking at her lips.

“Don’t try to walk away from me.” He lets go of her arms, letting them float down to her sides as he leans in close, lips pressed against her ear. “Especially not when you’re dressed like that.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at his words. A poor and sorry attempt at winning her back, yet completely expected from Daniel. “You think sex is going to fix this?”

“Who said anything about sex?” He plays dumb but she sees straight through him. That had always been a thing in their relationship; they were both terrible liars, or rather couldn’t lie to each other as the other could always spot it.

Stepping back, she calls over to Kika who’s stood between Pierre and Charles, tracing circles around the rim of her glass. “Bathroom.” She smiles and Kika nods, slipping away from the table.

Daniel sees this and steps forward, blocking Kika’s path. “Actually, she doesn’t need you to go with her.”

“Daniel - “ Y/N snaps, cut off by his arm linking with hers and pulling her in the direction of the bathrooms.

“Come on.” He barges through the doors, squeezing the two of them into the first stall and turning the lock.

“I can’t believe you just spoke to Kika like that.” She whispers angrily, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

“She’ll get over it.”

“Pierre won’t.”

Y/N folds her arms over her chest, leaning against the flimsy cubicle as Daniel’s eyes wander around the small space. She sighs, heels scraping against the ground as she stands back up straight. “Well you got me here. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Actually, I don’t. Did you bring me in here to apologise… or was there something else?” There’s a shift in her tone and a look in her eye that Daniel instantly recognises. He knows she’s still angry at him, but sees there’s a part of her that wants him just as much as he wants her.

Sparing her a proper response, he slips a knee between her legs and pushes her against the wall. It shakes a little, encouraging a small smile to appear on her face. “You disappoint me, Ricciardo.” She purrs, running a perfectly manicured finger across his jaw.

“Something tells me you’re not so disappointed.” He grinds his knee upwards, pressing it against her clothed pussy. She groans, body slumping forward in pleasure. He catches her with his chest, pushing her back up, keeping her upright against the wall. “Does that sound like the moans of a disappointed woman?”

“Shut up.” She hisses, delicate fingers wrapping around his throat to pull him in for a kiss. Daniel moans, the sound strangled as her nails dig into his neck. The kiss is entirely in her control as she holds him in place, squeezing his throat just enough to make his breath hitch. She draws back, sucking his tongue between her lips and letting it go with a quiet popping sound.

“If we do this, it doesn’t magically fix anything.” She breathes, releasing her grip on him to rest her hand on his chest.

Daniel is smart enough to know better, and knows that hasty sex in a bathroom stall isn’t going to mend all of their problems, but he’s too turned on and fuelled by liquid courage to care. Running his hand over the top of hers, he links their fingers and flips her around to face the wall, pressing her palm flat against the cold wood. She yelps in surprise as he uses his free hand to hike her dress up. He’s delighted to see the black lace that’s barely covering her, and he hooks his forefinger through the waistband to pull her ass towards him. “Planned on getting lucky tonight, huh?” He taunts, his fingers tracing the patterns in the lace.

“I was hoping one of the guys would take me home.” She quips sarcastically, bending over more and grinding her ass against his hand. Daniel groans, letting go of her hand so he can use both freely. He grabs her ass and spreads her legs, his mouth falling open at the sight of her pussy peeking through her underwear.

Wasting no time, he drops to his knees and pushes the thin string to the side, giving him full access to the part of her he needs the most. Feeling his hot breath against her exposed cunt, she gasps, parting her legs even further. “That’s it.” Daniel hums, taking his middle finger and running it slowly through her folds. Y/N’s legs quiver as he touches her, barely inserting a finger as he concentrates on circling her pussy and feeling just how soaked she is. His finger eventually finds its way to her clit, flicking gently against the swollen bud, making her whole body twitch with arousal.

She moans his name, the word elongated on her tongue. He stops for a second, lying his hand flat against her core. “Shh… You don’t want people hearing us now, do you?” He whispers.

Squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to suppress any further sounds, Y/N nudges Daniel with her leg, urging him to continue. Instead, he grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to him, her feet sliding along the slippery tiled floor. “Let me taste you, baby.” The sound of his voice disappears between her legs, her thighs almost cupping his cheeks as he finds her clit with his tongue. The tip of his tongue swipes across her clit, slowly then repetitively in a rhythm. His hands hold onto her thighs tightly, his fingers leaving indentations in the supple skin.

Y/N sinks her teeth into the back of her hand, trying her best to stay quiet. Saliva and bite marks cover the spot just above her wrist whilst Daniel buries his head further and laps up her pussy like a starving animal. His nose pokes between her folds, and the newfound friction elicits a heavy exhale from deep within her chest.

Desperate to keep that nose she loves so much as close to her as possible, she reaches behind to grab Daniel’s head and guide him to the perfect spot. Fingers tangling in his hair and clutching at the roots, she rides his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue flat against her clit, and the tip of his nose pressing into her. Daniel holds his breath as she ruts her hips against his face, gripping her thighs until it hurts. She winces, tensing the muscles as she rests her forehead against the wall, teeth still gnawing on her hand. He grunts, the sound sending a vibration to her clit and throughout her entire body, making her knees buckle beneath her. He catches her, supporting her body with his hands alone as he delves his face deeper to suck her clit into his mouth.

Losing all sense of caring, Y/N lets her hand fall free from her lips, releasing a stifled moan that echoes around the bathroom stall. Her thighs squeeze together involuntarily as she comes, and Daniel has to prize them open to set himself free. He stands, hands fumbling with his jeans as he sloppily lays kisses on the back of her shoulder, his chin still slick with moisture, so much so that Y/N can smell her own scent filling the air.

“What did I tell you about staying quiet?” Daniel whispers, his lips barely touching the back of her ear.

“I’m sort of sick of you telling me what to do.” She retorts, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice. Daniel rolls his eyes, trying to ignore her words as he pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them bunched around his ankles. He knows she’s not just talking about the present, but he’s too desperate to feel her wrapped around his cock to let it bother him. He hasn’t been able to touch her for weeks, and seeing her spread wide for him like this is enough to almost push him to the edge already.

Hands gripping her dress around her waist, he pulls her towards him, sliding his cock inside her effortlessly. Mutual gasps of pleasure and hissed curse words slip off of their tongues as he bottoms out inside of her, his clammy hands losing grip of the satin. Reaching round to grab her arms, he crosses her wrists and holds them behind her back, forcing her cheek against the wall to support her upper body. There’s an aggression to his actions, one hand holding her wrists and another snaking its way into her hair. Tugging her head back, he leans forward, his face beside hers. She looks at him through her peripheral vision, a smug smile on her face as she notices his slack jaw and half-lidded eyes. Daniel was never truly in control when it came to Y/N. The effect she had on him was dangerous and made him want to do things unimaginable. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and he’d literally and figuratively drop to his knees for her.

Daniel’s slow thrusts tell her that he doesn’t plan on lasting very long. Despite his tight hold on her and rough fingers in her hair, his hips roll in leisurely circles, the tip of his cock stroking her g-spot in a deliciously torturous rhythm. The restroom door creaks, a collection of footsteps clattering along the floor outside. With shadows passing the stall and voices filling the space, Daniel drops his hand from Y/N’s hair, instead using it to cover her mouth and keep her quiet. She tilts her head, sucking his forefinger into her mouth, her tongue wet and warm and making Daniel’s cock twinge inside of her. He moans, trying to swallow the sound so nobody will hear.

Daniel’s wet finger trails out of her mouth and down her neck, drawing a line of her own saliva along her throat. Wrapping his arm across her upper body, he holds her close as he fucks her, the heat between them making his shirt stick to his chest. Beads of sweat run down the back of Y/N’s neck and under her dress. Even beneath the harsh bathroom lighting, her skin glistens and looks good enough for Daniel to taste, to lick clean.

Voices gather at the sinks, water running and paper towels unravelling from the holders. Daniel silently prays for them to hurry up and leave, the feeling of Y/N’s pussy clenching around his dick becoming too much to bear. The muffled sounds of the music outside briefly fill the room, before disappearing behind the door. He releases his breath with a long groan, his body slumping against hers. “Finally.” He hisses, stepping back and pulling her ass with him, bending her into a perfect L-shape.

Relieved to be alone again, their pants and moans circle around the stall as Daniel drives his hips back and forth, quickening the pace. His firm grip on her ass cheeks leaves little white outlines around his fingers as he coaxes himself to climax. Hearing the sweet sounds coming from her mouth sends him over the edge, his thighs stiffening as he comes inside her, his body jolting forward in ecstasy. She straightens, resting her body against the wall with Daniel pressed against her back, his sweaty forehead slumped onto her shoulder. He pulls out with a huff, his cock leaking with cum and legs feeling sore.

Y/N readjusts and pulls her dress down, smirking to herself as she feels cum drip out of her and pool inside her underwear. She runs her hands through her hair, hoping she looks presentable as she turns to face Daniel. He zips his jeans and smiles at her, but doesn’t earn a smile back. “I told you, this doesn’t change anything.” She states flatly, reaching for the lock. He stops her, taking her hand in his.

“Come home with me.” He pleads, running his thumb softly over her knuckles, a stark contrast to the way he’d touched her just a few minutes prior.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Daniel’s expression remains serious. He opens his mouth to repeat himself, but she cuts him off with a defeated sigh. “Fine. But we leave now. I don’t need to be dealing with questions.”

“Deal.” He smiles, earning an eye roll from her as she unlocks the door and heads out, her heels clicking against the tile. He follows close behind, the satisfied grin never leaving his face.

[tkwrites]

Can I Watch? - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Can I Watch?

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Warnings: Smut (18+ only), Mutual masturbation, Vibrator use, Sex with competition, Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Sex with a vibrator, talks of fantasies including thigh riding, edging and anal play, but nothing is done. 

Summary: The day after I miss you: When Quinn discovers a vibrator in Sarah’s toiletry bag, it sets them on a course of discovery and pleasure neither of them planned on. After a wild afternoon, they discuss their fantasies.

Word Count: 4,000

Comments: I’ve been working on the Family Reunion snapshot, but it’s just not in a place to be done yet. It’s getting there, but it still needs a lot of work. The ending for this one came to me a few days ago, so I’ve finished it up. A thousand thanks to @aloragrace for looking this over so many times and helping me bring it back to Sarah and Quinn when my ovulation cycle highjacked the keyboard. I’m so glad I stuck to my instinct and kept writing until it was right. 

Thank you a thousand times over for your support and love for Sarah and Quinn! 

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. Your comments and support inspire me to keep writing! 

The video referenced at the beginning of this snapshot is described in Messages. 

Can I Watch? 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

“Could you grab me a hair tie while you’re in there?” Sarah asked from her perch on the bed. 

“Here,” he handed her the elastic as he left the bathroom. 

"What's this?" Quinn asked, holding up a dark rectangular thing he'd pulled out of her toiletry bag while rooting around for the hair tie. 

Sarah glanced up and tried to sound casual. "It's a vibrator."

"It is?"

"Take the cap off," she said. 

"How?" 

"Pull the halves apart." 

He did and discovered a clinical looking device with a built up sort of funnel on one side. 

"What does it do?" he asked, sitting next to her. 

"It creates a sucking sensation," she said, feeling her blush finally break through. 

"And you thought you might need it this trip?"

Quinn liked to think of himself as a pretty open guy, but she'd never brought a toy into the bedroom before. They generally did just fine. He knew she had them from phone calls and video chats and that damn video she’d sent him in Carolina. He wasn’t sure why she felt like she needed it now. 

"Well, It's a travel one, which is why it's so small and inconspicuous, so it lives in my toiletry bag anyway but, I thought you…" she paused, trying to screw her courage up. "I thought you might want to use it on me." 

Quinn's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What?"

"Lots of couples use toys."

"I know, but," Quinn was having a hard time converting his thoughts into spoken words. "Hell yeah, I want to use it on you," he blurted finally, his eyes shining with excitement. "How do you turn it on?"

"Hold down the plus sign."

He did, and the toy jumped to life. When past girlfriends had brought out vibrators, they always caused intense buzzing; this felt more like a gentle flutter. It didn't feel anything like suction. 

Reaching over, Sarah picked it up and licked her finger to spread some moisture on the tip. 

Quinn watched, enthralled as she pulled his hand into her lap and pressed the opening to the pad of his thumb. He immediately felt the toy engage, creating the sensation she’d promised. 

"And you can make it stronger here," she pressed the plus button a few more times, and the suction intensified. 

“And you use it?“

“On my clit. Sometimes I use it on my nipples. But with you here I'd rather have your mouth there.”

It even felt good to him. He had no idea how a dude would use it, but the thought had him excited. 

"Is this what you used when you sent me that video?"

"No. I used a bullet vibrator that time. That one lives in my bag most of the time. It's more inconspicuous." 

"You have more than one?"

"Six or seven that do different things," she said. 

Quinn felt his mouth begin to water. He hadn't expected this in the best way. 

He met her eyes, his own shining. “Do you have the one you used in that video?” 

She nodded and went to fetch it from her backpack. 

“This is a vibrator?” he asked. Other than the bright blue color, it looked like a thick tube of chapstick. 

When she popped the lid off, it revealed a silicone covered cylinder. 

Turning it over in his hand, he found and pressed the button. The toy jumped to life, buzzing more like the vibrators June had. 

This one was far more rudimentary, with only the one button that changed the vibration pattern. 

“What did you use it on?” he asked as he cycled through the settings, the vibrations shuddering through his fingers.

She laughed as she settled next to him again, “are you trying to recreate it?” 

“I listen to that video at least once a week when we're not together,” he confessed. “There's no way I'm turning down a chance to see it. In fact…” he said, a mischievous smile taking over his face, “can I watch you get yourself off with it?” 

Her face flushed. “I don't know…” 

“Please?” he asked, unable to hide the lust in his eyes. The very thought of it had him breaking into a hot sweat and longing pulled through his stomach. 

“I've never done that before.” 

“Done what?” 

“Masturbated in front of someone.” 

“That's not true,” he said, “you do it in front of me all the time.”

“No I haven't.”

“Over FaceTime.”

“That's different. That's mostly about sound, and you're only seeing my face.”

“Please, Sarah,” he said, letting his voice dip into desperation. Now that the possibility was in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to rest until it came to fruition. 

She could feel her resistance caving even as they sat there, “okay, but you have to, too.”

“Have to what?”

“You have to get yourself off.”

Like that would be hard. 

A sudden thought came to mind, and Sarah smiled a wicked grin of her own. 

“What?” he asked, laughing. 

“Wanna make a bet?” she asked, quirking her eyebrows suggestively. 

“About what?” 

“Whoever comes first forfeits decision rites for the rest of the night. Dinner and such.” 

It was stupid and simple, but she knew Quinn and his incessant need to win wouldn’t be able to resist the healthy competition. 

As proof of her point, he leaned closer. “Deal,” he said, ghosting the buzzing vibrator up her forearm. 

Goosebumps rippled over her skin. 

When she met his eyes, a smile like she’d already won lit her face, and Quinn found himself wondering if he was setting himself up for failure.

“You can’t stop touching, though.” 

“What?”

“It’s only fair if we’re both touching. So you have to keep this pretty hand,” she said, bringing it to her mouth and kissing his palm, “on you cock the whole time.”

His breath stuttered in his chest.

Oh, he was fucked. 

Laying back, Sarah watched Quinn's face for grounding. The fascinated, lustful look in his eyes made her blood feel like it was about to boil over. 

She brought the vibrator to the top of her sex, nesting it against her clit before turning it on. The toy buzzed to life and her hips tipped toward it.  

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, eyes flicking between her face and the toy in her hands. 

Her breath shook as she answered, “I like to start on the clitoral hood. It’s a nice way to ease in and get everything warmed up without being too intense.”

She was holding the toy still, but her hips rocked, moving the tip ever so slightly. 

“Do you ever turn it higher?”

“Not until I’m a few rounds in. When I come the first few times, it's too intense if I do, and I have to cycle through all the modes to get back to a comfortable setting. By then, my orgasm is gone, so I just leave it on low and vary the pressure.”

He made a needy, longing noise as he thought about her getting herself off over and over again. 

“You're supposed to be getting yourself off,” she reminded, noticing him not touching.

Selfishly, he’d been waiting until she noticed, knowing he wouldn’t last long with her in front of him, spread open and bringing herself pleasure with the object that plagued so many of his dreams. 

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around his cock and started to stroke, fighting to keep his pace torturously slow. 

“Quinn,” she moaned. 

Though he felt too close to the surface already, he wouldn’t look away. He couldn’t. She was doing this for him. He’d practically begged for it, and he wasn’t about to throw the opportunity out the window over a bet. But he still wanted to win.

“Fuck, Sarah,” he found himself saying, “I wish I was touching you right now.” 

She almost told him he could be, but he might take that as an invitation, which would for sure bring her to a crest more quickly. Instead, she goaded him on. “How?” 

Two could play at this game. “I want my mouth on you so bad.” 

The moan she let out went straight to his groin, and he paused until he got some semblance of control back. “I’ve missed the way you taste.” 

Her hips undulated as his name rushed from her mouth. “Oh my god.” 

Blinking her way through the fantasy, Sarah’s eyes sought Quinn. Draped over the end of the bed, he had one hand propped under his head so he could watch her, while the other... Her eyes narrowed. 

“Your hand’s not on your cock.”

“I’ll come if I keep touching,” he confessed.

“I guess you better learn to restrain yourself, then.”

When he didn't move, she pulled the vibrator away, even though her body begged her not to.  “Hand on your cock or I'm not coming.”

His lips pouted down. “But —” 

“That was the agreement, Quinn,” she said.

When he didn't immediately comply, she turned off the toy. 

He whined. 

“It wouldn’t be winning on your part anyway,” she said. “You’re cheating.”

“I am not.” 

“You are. You can’t possibly win fairly if you’re not touching.”

“But it takes you longer to build up,” he said, hating the whine in his voice. 

“You knew that going in,” she goaded, “it’s not my fault you didn’t think it through.” 

He made a pained noise. 

“Hand. Cock. Now,” she demanded. When he still hesitated, she asked, “are you really going to deny me my orgasm because you can’t control yourself?” 

Well, when she put it that way. 

“No,” he admitted, a distinctive whine of defeat in his voice. 

“I won’t do anything too mean, I promise,” she said with a wink as the toy buzzed back to life. 

That’s what he was afraid of. 

He was going to lose. There was no way he’d be able to outlast her. May as well go out with a bang. Stroking his cock faster, he admitted, “I can’t wait to use that on you while you ride me.” 

She made a pleasured, desperate noise. 

“I’m gonna make you come so many fucking times.” 

Feeling that tingling start in her pelvis, Sarah eased the toy back. She needed to send him over the edge. “Yes, you make me feel so good, Quinn.” 

His breath choked in his throat. Even the suggestion of her calling him good had him unraveling. He slipped over the edge with a moan of her name.

Relieved to not hold back any longer, Sarah let the vibrator fall against her and rocked her hips. “Quinn,” she whined, “I’m so close.” 

Even though his limbs felt like they were made of jelly, he pulled himself to her side, wrapped his lips around her right nipple and sucked, flicking the pebble with his tongue. 

She cried out, pleasure surging through her. “Quinn! Oh my - fuck!” Her core pulsed, and she couldn’t wait to have him deep inside her. 

Easing the toy away, her whole body flinched against the sensitivity.

“That was so hot,” Quinn rasped, hauling himself up to catch her mouth in a smoldering kiss. 

It didn’t take long before her hips were tipping to his, needy once more. 

“Are you ready to ride my cock?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face. “Or should I shove this,” he held up the little buzzing toy, “inside you and lick you until you come?” 

Hips bucking up, she begged, “both. I want both.” 

They fucked and made love, and Sarah ordered him around like he’d always dreamed of. At one point, he had the suction vibrator pulling at her clit as he drilled into her from behind, and Sarah was feeling so much bliss, she could barely hold herself up. She collapsed onto her chest, loving the friction of the bedsheets as her body was pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled with each steady thrust. 

“Quinn, I’m gonna come,” she warned, wondering if in her loosened and blissed state, she might finally squirt. 

She cried out when the pleasure surged, racing through her veins. 

He pulled out and tugged on his length, slippery with her orgasm.

She was just starting to whimper and twitch from the overstimulation when she felt his release paint over her backside. 

Tumbling like a felled tree, he landed beside her, and the toy fell away. 

Her knees slid out so she lay on her stomach. 

A few minutes later, when she hadn’t moved or spoken, Quinn touched her elbow, “that was kind of intense. You okay?”

Turning her face to him, she rested her head on her arms. “Yeah.”

“Yeah it was intense, or yeah you're okay?”

“Both,” she said with a smile. After a small pause, feeling so buoyant in her chest, she thought she might just float away, she added, “thank you for checking in.”

Scooting a little closer, he pressed his lips to the place his fingers had just touched. 

She smiled but still didn't make any moves to change position. Usually, she liked to use the bathroom or cuddle right after sex. Looking her over, he realized she couldn't. He'd come all over her ass. Of course she couldn't move.  

He convinced himself up to fetch a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was one made of soft microfiber, labeled for makeup removal with the other towels. At least he wouldn't have to use a rough, overly bleached hotel washcloth. He soaked it with warm water before coming back. 

Touching a hand to her thigh to let her know he was there, he wiped his release off her bum and hips before tapping her knee.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as she spread her legs to give him more room. A small wincing noise escaped her lips when he swiped between them. 

“Sorry,” he said. “Almost done.”

As he went back to the bathroom, his hand gently caressed over her bum and down her thigh, tracing the whole length of her leg. He rinsed the cloth before hanging it up to dry. 

Coming back out, he found her standing, a grimace squinting her left eye closed. 

He jolted to her side, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah. We went from no sex for twenty days to, like, five times in an afternoon. I’m just a little sore,” she said with a small laugh. 

“Twenty days, hu?” 

“Don’t play coy. I know for a fact that you keep track.” 

Laughter burst out of him. 

She shut the door to the bathroom, and he pulled on a new pair of boxers.

Sarah smiled, accepting the pajamas Quinn pulled out of her suitcase for her when she came back. 

He unabashedly watched her dress as he lay on the bed and held his arms out for her. She immediately snuggled in, resting her head on his chest. 

Kissing the crown of her hair, Quinn said, “thank you for doing that for me.” 

“Doing what?” 

“The whole masturbation thing.” 

A laugh snorted from her nose, “it’s not like it was some huge burden on my part.” 

Tightening his arms around her, Quinn finally asked, “is there anything you want from me?” 

“What do you mean?” she asked, fingers tracing up the center of his stomach. 

He had to swallow against the trembling in his chest, “I mean, is there anything you want sexually? Anything you want to try?” 

She made a small humming noise that told him she was thinking. While he waited for her response, his fingers traced patterns on her shoulder.

“I want to ride your thigh,” she admitted. 

“Is that…is that a thing people do?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to try it, and you have these incredible thighs here,” she said, running her hand up the broad trunk of muscle, “always tempting me.”

“I don’t get it,” he said, unable to stop himself. 

“Get what?”

“The whole thigh thing. What’s the big deal?” 

“Well, I mean, your thighs are big and strong, and watching you work out?” she paused to bite her lip and let out a satisfied little grunt, “I just think they’re so sexy.” 

Her touch became feather-light, and a shiver of pleasure shot all the way to his toes. 

“I mean, you like my thighs, right?” 

It was true. He did love her thighs. They were soft and curvy and led to one of his favorite parts of her. His thighs, though, were too muscled for the rest of his body — made bigger from all the skating and leg work he had to do for hockey. He’d never imagined a woman would like them because of that. 

“You don’t think it would be hot to watch me get myself off on one?” she whispered, her fingers suddenly gripping his left quad. 

The muscle seized under her assault, and his breathing hitched.

He nodded, knowing if he spoke, his voice would squeak. God, he should not be getting so worked up over the thought of this.

“Maybe we can try that when you get back home.” Her lips whispered over his neck when she said it. 

“We could try it when you come to Michigan,” he countered, not sure he could wait that long. Had they not gone so many rounds already, he would be demanding she do it right then. It was going to plague his thoughts for the rest of the summer. 

Her grip loosened, and she smiled when she felt his muscles twitch as her fingers grazed up to his stomach. 

“Is there anything you want?” she asked, splaying her hand over his heart as if she hadn’t just turned him on in two seconds flat. 

The vast majority of his blood and mental focus were too much in his dick to properly vet his thoughts, so the fantasy just came blurting out, “I’ve been getting myself off to the thought of you edging me.” 

“Edging?” she repeated. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice gone breathy. 

“What does that look like?” Though she’d heard of it before, edging wasn’t something Sarah was too interested in trying herself, and her past boyfriends had all been too vanilla. They’d all considered doggy to be kinky.

“You tying me up.” He’d never admitted this fantasy to anyone before. He loved that no matter what came out of his mouth, Sarah would at least consider it. 

“Okay, and?” 

“And not letting me come until you say I can.” 

“Okay,” she repeated, still a little unsure. 

“You can come as much as you want, though,” he said, practically panting at the thought, “in fact, the more you come, the better.” 

Now, she understood a little more, “so you just have to watch me come?” she confirmed. 

“Yeah, and you like, touch me and stuff, but don’t let me get all the way there.” 

“I think I could do that,” she said, “I don’t know that I’ll be all that good at it, but I’d be happy to try.” 

A coil of anxiety unwound in his chest. 

“You’ll have to tell me what you want.” 

He nodded, “I can do that.” 

Her fingers began to trace patterns over his chest. The last part of the fantasy was still rolling around his mind. He knew Sarah, who loved and insisted on consent more than any other woman he’d ever been with, would have the most issue with this part of it. 

“I want you to order me around,” he said. 

“As part of the edging?”

“Yeah, and tell me I’m a good boy when I do it right.” 

Making a kind of noncommittal noise, she pursed her lips. 

Raising himself onto one elbow, he looked down at her. 

She blew a deep breath through her lips, “I’m not gonna lie, that feels really weird to me.” 

“What does?” 

“The whole good boy thing.”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, it’s okay,” he said. 

“I just…I don’t understand. Why would you want me to reduce you to that?” 

“To what?” 

“To just, ‘good boy,’” she explained, “you’re not a dog.”

Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her. He loved this part of Sarah — respectful and kind, she never wanted to make another person feel less than. 

“What if I just tell you you’re doing a good job?” she asked. “Take the boy out of it. Would that be okay?”

His body responded immediately, “that would work.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I liked it when you said I made you feel good earlier today.” 

“I did?” 

He nodded, “I just want to be good for you.” 

“You are good to me, Quinn,” Sarah said, pulling him back down for another kiss. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sarah wondered if Quinn wanted these things because he was so used to chasing the praise of his coaches and teammates. 

He made a happy little noise and settled next to her again. 

After a minute of laying there, he asked, “is there anything else you want?” 

“Oh, I…” Sarah had never felt like this in a relationship. She’d never had someone ask her so openly about what she wanted, but on top of that, she knew whatever she said, Quinn would consider without immediately shooting her down. But it was still vulnerable to say it out loud. 

“I’ve kind of always wanted to try…”  

His arm tightened around her, reassuring. 

“I want to try doggy with something in my ass,” she said, then bit her lip. 

Quinn’s chest rose in a steep breath, but his voice was calm when he said, “what kind of something? Like a plug or…” 

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t done much research, I’ve just read about it a few times, and it seems like it can be really amazing.”

He made a noise of ascent.

Lifting herself up on her elbow, she asked, “have you done that before?” 

Hesitantly, he nodded. 

“Did you, I mean, was it okay?” 

“June really liked it.”

Sarah blinked a few times, surprised. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“She didn’t like oral or cum, but she liked anal play?” Sarah felt a little whiplashed. She’d always assumed June was a prude. 

He shrugged. He honestly didn’t know if June disliked receiving oral. He’d never offered or tried, and she never asked. 

Settling back against his chest, Sarah’s mind caught on the way he’d answered her initial question. “So did you like it?” 

“Like what? The anal stuff?” 

“Yeah. It seems like maybe you didn’t?” 

A sigh shifted his chest beneath her. “It’s not really that. It was more June. She always wanted to try new, more extreme things, and it felt a bit like she was always chasing this high I could never give her on my own.” 

The thought of it made Sarah’s chest tight. “Quinn that sounds awful.” She pushed herself up to kneeling so she could look into his face. “We don’t have to do it. Like I said, I’ve just thought about it. It’s nothing I have my heart set on.” 

Quinn smiled a little to himself. How was this beautiful woman even possible? “I know you’re not like that,” he said

“No,” she agreed.

“If it’s something you want, we should try it.”

The love and care that was laid bare in that statement made her heart feel like it might just explode from happiness. 

She lay on top of him, “only if we can make love before,” she said. “There’s hardly anything I like more than making love to you.” 

As his mouth tipped to hers in a kiss, Quinn felt full to bursting with love. He knew Sarah loved him and wasn’t just seeking the next high, the next thing that would make their relationship bearable, but when she learned his hesitations, she put them to bed anyway. 

She’d been open to his stuff so he would be open to hers. 

“Want me to order a plug? I could probably InstaCart it.” 

Laughter echoed around the room. “Quinn Hughes, you are not InstaCarting a butt plug to our hotel.” 

“Why not?” he asked. “We’re here. You want it. You should have it.” 

She was touched at his willingness to fulfill this want right away, especially considering his initial hesitation. “I want to do some research before,” she said. Though she’d thought about it plenty, she’d never really looked into the logistics of it.

“Okay,” he said, kissing her forehead, “just let me know when you’re ready and what you want me to get.”

“Right now, I just want you to make love to me before we figure out what we want for dinner.” 

“Done,” Quinn said, rolling them over, “but you get to figure out dinner. You won the bet.” 

She giggled. “You are the only person I know who can turn losing a bet into a good thing.”

“Its all about perspective, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a few kisses to her neck. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[adoredawn]

✧˖° — adventures in babysitting

pairing: joe goldberg x fem! reader

type: imagine (1.6k+ words)

requested: no

summary: joe and love decide to get a babysitter for henry after dottie’s breakdown. who would’ve thought she'd spark joe's interest?

warning(s): one-sided pining (-ish). rushed plot / dialogue. no use of y/n.

note(s): not my gif. not my divider. this takes place during season 3! i’ve seen sooo little joe love on here, so i thought i’d write some! i haven’t written a full fledged fic in nearly 4 years, so please bear with me while i try to regain my skills. reblog & comment if you enjoyed it / want a part 2!

adoredawn’s masterlist

“if you want to make some calls to any previous parents i’ve worked with, there are some cell numbers i can give you,” you said with a smile, looking between the husband and wife before you. you sat opposite them on a plush loveseat as they were side-by-side on their gray sofa adorned with decorative pillows.

“oh that doesn’t seem necessary, we’ve heard great things.” love grinned as she patted joe’s knee lovingly. “cary and sherry just could not recommend you enough!”

you giggled and shook your head, smoothening out your summer dress. “i did have my hands full with those twins, that week and a half was a wild one…”

there was an uncomfortable silence. the house was eerily quiet for a toddler to be living in it, though it was his nap time. your eyes drifted down to what trinkets littered their coffee table. coasters, a book on home décor, and toddler toy keys.

as you had walked in earlier, you noticed their home was eerily clean. a family portrait of the three was already hung in a hallway and other pictures were framed on bookshelves and end tables. their home was modern, yet vintage at the same time. it felt like a showroom, but one you could call home.

you could feel their eyes on you, studying you, as you gazed around their home.

joe cleared his throat and sat up straighter, love looked at him expectingly and you mimicked his movements, snapping out of your thoughts. “so… how soon can you start? how’s your schedule?”

you opened your mouth to answer, reaching beside you to grab your purse and look at the calendar on your phone, but a cry rang from upstairs.

love sighed, “sorry about that, i guess nap time’s over! i’ll go get him and we can introduce you.” she sprang up from her seat and made her way up the staircase, glancing back once to eye joe.

joe watched as his wife traveled up the stairs to soothe their toddler, and as he turned back to look at you, he caught your stare. you momentarily forgot what he had asked, flustered. “oh-uh, well i can start as soon as you need. i’m available all week really. i’m taking a break from school for a semester.”

joe seemed to perk up, and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “huh, what’re you studying?”

“education, with a focus on advanced literature in secondary education”

he licked his lips and you couldn’t help but watch. your hands balled into fists in your lap, crescent moons forming in your palms from your nails digging in.

“you enjoy reading?” his voice buzzed lowly with curiosity and you nodded softly.

“mhm, i plan on being a high school teacher or a professor once i graduate.” you paused, looking behind joe at the staircase, and wondering what was taking love so long. you shook your head slightly, focusing your attention back on joe, trying to remain cool. “do you read?”

“i do. i was a bookstore manager for some time.”

“really? that must’ve been fun-“

“here he is, say ‘hi’ henry!” love came down the stairs carrying henry on her hip. joe turned and watched them both come down, reaching for henry once love had sat beside him again.

you waved at little henry, and he barely paid you any mind, focusing on his mother and father. love turned him around to sit facing you, where you could see that his white pajama onesie was covered in blue moons and yellow stars.

“henry, say ‘hi,’ bubba!” love encouraged him, grabbing his arm to wave at you, causing you to smile and wave back. she looked up from him, to you, a serious look on her face. “do you want to hold him? he’s not very fussy around newer people.”

you hesitate, looking back and forth between love and joe, as if asking for permission, even though love has already granted it. meanwhile henry babbled, spitting drool over his onesie. “sure sure, i’ve got him,” you said confidently.

you stood and bent over the coffee table separating you from the couple, reaching for their toddler. as love passed him to you, henry giggled, flailing his legs and flapping his arms while he’s in the air, causing the three of you to also begin laughing.

you felt joe watching you as you held henry, and you tried your best not to return any glances, wanting to maintain your focus on henry.

you sat back on the loveseat, bouncing henry on your lap a few times. “hey, henry, how’re you doing, buddy? i’m gonna be your new babysitter.” you tell him your name, chanting it as you point at yourself a few times. he looks at you and smiles, grabbing at the bottom hem of your dress and tugging.

you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched as you had henry in your lap. of course you were being watched, you told yourself. joe and love just wanted to make sure they would be leaving henry with someone who knew what they were doing. and you very much did.

after a few minutes of holding henry, he began to stretch his arms out, pleading to go back to his parents. you held him back safely as he whined and yearned to reach the other side of the coffee table.

joe grunted an “i got ‘im,” before he walked over to you and picked henry up off of your lap, his hands brushing yours. you felt a pang in your heart as you touched, but squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore it.

once joe got a hold of him, henry began to shriek. joe tried to calm him down, patting his back and rocking him side to side, but he didn’t let up. love quickly got up from her seat and took henry from joe, patting his back.

“it’s okay, forty, it’s okay, momma’s here…” love soothed him, and whispered “sorry!” she sat back on the couch, trying to calm him down.

joe ran a hand through his hair, frowned, and sighed. you watched him with a frown, and he caught your gaze, to which you stood and stuck out your hand. “it was really great to meet you you both.”

joe took your hand in his and shook, smiling softly at you. “it was nice meeting you, miss... i’ll walk you out.” you blushed lightly as he recalled your name and turned to love and squeezed her shoulder goodbye. she muttered a soft “bye” and you rubbed henry’s back and said bye to him as well.

joe kissed love on the cheek as she settled henry down and followed behind you. you reached for the doorknob, and joe followed suit, his fingers brushing against yours again. they lingered for a second, and you turned to look up at him as you retreated your hand.

he smiled gingerly as he grabbed hold of the knob and twisted the door open. you’re both greeted by the gorgeous california sun and birdsong and you take a step outside. you turned, expecting to say your final goodbyes, but joe followed you out.

“thank you, again, for coming out to see us and meet henry. i assume love already gave you our numbers?” he asked as he closed the door behind him. he leaned against the door frame with both hands in his pockets and quickly looked you up and down.

you nodded, “yeah, it was no problem. and she did. do you have mine?” you began pulling your phone out of your purse before joe spoke.

“yes, i can send you a text to make sure it’s the right one?”

before you could agree, joe pulled his phone out of his back pocket and began typing. soon enough, you heard a familiar ding! from inside your purse, and went to read the message:

Hello, you.

you smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “i’ve got it, thanks.” you turned away to leave before stopping abruptly. joe had already turned to leave as well, and faltered as you came back. “sorry, uh, i was just wondering when would i be starting?”

joe stuck his tongue in his cheek, in thought for a moment, and you took this time to fully drink him in. he had one hand in his pants pocket, the other rubbing his chin. his dark curls fell perfectly over his forehead, and you wanted to brush them away to get him to look deeply into your eyes. his gray sleeves hugged the curve of the muscles on his arms so right, that you nearly melted at the thought of being trapped in them.

you couldn’t be thinking like this, you scolded yourself. you'd never suddenly gotten this rush of feelings when meeting someone before. he’s happily married with a kid that you’ll be taking care of. get. it. together!

“how about monday? i’ll be home for a few hours, and i don’t think love would mind if i stay and show you henry’s schedule.”

you nodded eagerly, “absolutely, just let me know when to get here. thank you, again, for having me!” you waved goodbye as you trekked down their concrete walkway and to their white picket fence toward your car. you covered your eyes from the sun and once you made it to your car, you searched for and waved at joe from across the street.

joe waved to you and watched as you settled into your vehicle. he didn’t take his eyes off of you until your car had driven out of his sight, eager for the weekend to fly by and see you on monday.

[lamentofabramo]

saw your requests were open. Wondering if you could write an Andrew x reader type thing, where the reader and Andy are dating, but where it’s obvious the reader is a replacement ? Like obviously Andy and Leyley are still attached in the emotional incest way and how it fucks with the reader

Thanks!

minor trigger warnings for emetophobia, and slight references to incest but it's nothing completely obvious. MINORS DNI

ANDREW GRAVES

You weren't her. That was as clear as day. Anyone could see that he practically breathed in that little parasite he called a sister, But you stupidly didn't think anything of it. Or rather you didn't want to. You let him walk all over you, cancelling even the simplest of dates, just because she pretended to be sick. You'd even bet she would impale her throat with those cute matching nails she did with Andy just to get a reaction.

Yet he fell for it, Hook line and sinker. Half of his calls to you were "Hey, sorry I might have to cancel. you know how it is," Yeah, you knew just how it was.

"Ley-ley isn't-" God that fucking nickname just screamed something deeper, It made you sick. But then it all came to a head once Andy cancelled yet again because of his sister.

"Andrew-? Are you being serious right now?" You hissed after a moment of silence to register that he was bailing on you, yet again. "She's 20! You're 22! She can look after herself if she has a fucking cold."

The line immediately fell silent for a second. A small thump was heard as if he was pressing his hand against the receiver. You wanted to believe it was him trying to mask his upset or cuss, but he was probably telling that brat exactly what you said like some sort of rat. It made you see red.

He couldn't even come up with a decent excuse without asking her. Eventually, he responded, "She's my sister." he said slowly like he was trying to teach a kid how to speak. It was degrading. "You have no backbone." You snapped back, you were sick of him, sick of her. Sick of them, since they were basically the same person anyway. "Well excuse me if I care about my family, Jesus Christ." He whines like a child, if you weren't so angry you'd gag from how childish he was being, "Is it that much of an issue?" "When you're attached at the hip, yes! It's weird Andrew!"

A small laugh was then heard in the background, it'd almost be seen as funny since it sounded right out of a high school bully's mouth, But no, this was the girl Andrew decided he loved more than you. "Fuck this." You hissed before you slammed the phone down. There was silence for a minute before you screamed into your sleeve. This was it. You couldn't deal with them anymore.

And you just knew she'd enjoy that.