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captain-huggy-bear · 8 days ago

Text

National Teacher Day

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn has a big surprise for National Teacher Day that puts your relationship out into the public space.

Notes: Just continuing the theme of Teacher reader because why not?

I hit over 200 followers so thank you for all the love/support as I was not expecting that when I decided to just make a place for my hockey obsession :)

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

Writing Masterlist

"Mornin', baby," Quinn's voice is still a little sleepy as he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you towards him so that your back to presses against his front, careful not to dislodge you too much from where you're flipping pancakes for your breakfast.

"Morning, Quinn," You close your eyes and hum when he presses a kiss to your cheek, beard scratching your skin just slightly before he rests his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

You cook quietly for a few minutes, soaking in the warmth of Quinn at your back, the way his fingers press little circles into your stomach and the occasional kisses he presses just behind your ear. It's not often you get a few moments like this on a game day, especially with morning skate and it's that thought that has your eyes shifting to the clock.

"Don't you need to be getting ready for morning skate?"

"Mmm?" He's not really listening, too comfortable slumped over you with his eyes closed like he has absolutely nowhere to be. It would be cute if you didn't know that he'd freak out if he was late to morning skate. Quinn was nothing but punctual, you weren't sure he'd ever been late to something in his life, always there either on the dot or early. Something you appreciate about him, but which definitely meant he couldn't get away with dragging his heels at the moment.

You pull out of his grip, turning to face him, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks as he blinks at you bleary eyed and sleepily. Thumbs brushing his jaw as you force him to tune back into his surroundings.

"Morning skate? Isn't it in like half an hour?"

"Oh, shit!" You watch amused as he pulls away from you in a panic, eyes darting the clock before he darts to the bedroom to get ready, all limbs flailing as he nearly trips over a shoe on the floor. He's normally more organised, but then Quinn's been busy lately some sort of project he'd been working on with the arena but unable to tell you about. 'Top secret' that's what he said and you trusted him when he said he simply couldn't tell you as it was a surprise. But, it had proven to make him more distracted, less orderly and you found yourself reminding him of things more often. You didn't mind, after all he had done the same for you on many occasions.

It's as he leaves the apartment that you really start thinking about what day it is. Quinn's rushing past you with his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, but even in the rush doesn't fail to stop to press a kiss to your lips, sweet and short, letting out a quick, "Happy teacher's day, baby!" before he goes, the door clicking shut behind him.

That's when the day actually registers in your mind, Sunday 5th October, National Teacher Day. You actually wouldn't have realised what the day was if Quinn hadn't mentioned it on the way to morning skate. The fact that Quinn had remembered at all was sweet, it made you smile as you ate your pancakes and kept you smiling as you went about starting your day.

The day itself didn't mean much for you, afterall you weren't doing anything different than you normally would on a game day. You weren't teaching, so none of your students were likely to see you or give you a card or wish you a good day. Which was fine because even if you were, they probably wouldn't have because teenagers don't often even know that these days are a thing or if they do they forget. You weren't going to some award ceremony or event for teachers or some party of anything out of the ordinary. Instead, your day was focused on sorting out last minute planning for Monday (and marking those essays your grade 11's had written on why the American Boom had been able to take place - hoping they remembered LACKPANTS as you marked) before you had to leave for the game.

Arrival to Rogers Arena wasn't any different from normal either. You parked underneath the arena in your designated spot, made your way through the corridors until you arrived rink side, bundled in as many layers as possible underneath your Hughes Jersey. Normally, you'd have a seat further into the stands but Quinn had wanted you right by the ice for warm ups and the game today so you'd accepted the seats right up at the glass without much fuss.

While your students knew you were dating Quinn, most of the fans didn't. There was the odd metion of you here and there on the internet, but both of you were so private that only a few die hard Quinn fans really knew who you were and even then they just knew your face not much else. That meant sitting by the glass always felt a little exposing, it felt strange, wearing Quinn's jersey but knowing most people thought you were just a normal fan, not his girlfriend.

Even when he skates out for warm ups, even when his eyes fall straight to you like they were drawn there by some force greater than yourselves, even when he skates over and throws you a puck, even then people just assume you're a lucky fan. Still you clutch the puck to your chest when he winks at you and still you can't help but wish people knew who you were. Even more so as one of the girls next to you fawns over the fact he'd given you a puck and tells you how lucky you are. It's tempting to tell her that you're even luckier than that, that you get to go home with the man himself, but you don't. You never do.

It's an odd sort of dilemma to be in really. On one hand you've gotten used to privacy, teaching teenagers meant your social media needed to be locked down tight and private. The idea of some of that privacy disappearing was scary. But, on the other hand, you were proud of your boyfriend and wanted to scream from the rooftops that he was yours and he was amazing. At some point you knew the privacy would end, after all you lived together and at some point Quinn was bound to make it known who he was taken by. The media and the fans speculating all the time because he'd made it clear he wasn't single, but hadn't officially launched your relationship out to the world.

Tonight, Quinn decided was going to be different. He loved seeing you at the glass, the way you wore his jersey and clutched at the puck he tossed over to you. But, this was a rare occurance, normally you were deep in the stands, hard for him to spot. He knew you did that out of respect for him because he'd agreed with you that keeping things out of the public eye was best. But, the desire to keep you private had started to wear off over the last few months.

He watched some of his teammates and their public relationships, how everyone knew and celebrated JT and his wife for example and it made him yearn for that transparency. Even more so when the media speculated that you didn't exist, that he'd made up a girlfriend to keep the fans off his back.

Warm ups go as usual. You watch the guys stretch out and run through various laps on the ice, shooting the puck while Thatcher practice his saves. There's nothing unusual about the night until they come back out to start the game, rather than the anthem and puck drop, there's a delay, a change to the schedule that you hadn't expected. 'National Teachers Day' comes up on the Jumbotron besides various graphics and photographs of what look to be members of your profession.

You start to realise why Quinn remembered what day it was today because clearly he'd had it in mind for the game tonight. It's nice to see, your job was often a thankless one and with teachers leaving the profession in droves the recognition from the arena was nice. You knew there were other teachers in the audience who'd appreciate it too.

The bold voice of Al Murdock sounded out over the PA system as the lights dimmed, "And tonight we celebrate and honour the teachers all across this country who inspire, challenge and grow the next generation of doctors, lawyers, leaders and hockey players. We do so with a short thank you message from Quinn Hughes and the students of the Granville School!" You start a little at the mention of your school, still pressed near the glass where you can see the middle of the ice and the jumbotron clearly.

You watch Quinn skate out to the centre of the ice, spotlight shining down on him and his glorious hair. It's the sort of length where he can flip it like some sort of prince charming and you love it. He looks good on the ice, the lighting in the arena always does something to him that seems to add to his normal beauty. You can't help but admire him even as you feel a surge of anxiety at the reality that your boyfriend, who is dating you, a teacher, is about to talk to thousands of people. You watch as he thanks someone for handing him a microphone, looking around the arena before his eyes go straight to you at the glass and he smiles, simple and sweet but reassuring like he knows you're freaking out right now. Like he knows that you need to him to remind you that it's okay, you're okay.

"Teachers are the foundation of our society, but they're also people with families and lives, with feelings. Sometimes, we can be ungrateful, we can take for granted the challenges they face and the dangers they're willing to brave for their students." You know what he's thinking of when he says that. The time he had to come get you from school after you got punched while breaking up a fight. By a boy who was in the boxing club of all people. The way he had to calm you down from a panic attack over the phone, drive you home because you were shaking too hard, and then had to watch you go back to school the very next day and act like nothing had happened. He's thinking of every time you come home exhausted, shattered after a day of not being listened to, of being patient and trying to regulate your emotions and those of 30 other people. All the times you've received a shitty email from a parent for disciplining their child or the times you've had to stay late simply to get all the work done. The Christmases you've spent marking and the Sunday nights you couldn't sleep, mind cataloguing all the things you needed to do the next day.

"While I want to thank all the teachers out there today, there's a particular teacher I want to thank." Quinn's practically smirking, whether because he knows he's definitely surprised you or because his half-smile just looks like that you're not entirely sure.

"No...Quinn..." You mumble it under your breath even as you secretly love it, love that he's doing this for you even as you fear the attention, even as you dread the reaction of the crowd because this is the moment. You can feel it, this is the moment Quinn lets it slip, that he finally says, hey, this is my girlfriend, right there. It's both terrifying and exciting all in the same breath. Weren't you just considering how you were fed up of keeping things completely private? Of being a secret? But change is scary.

"Someone who made sure I got to morning skate on time this morning, someone who supports me even when she's coming home late or has a pile of marking to do, someone who gives her students everything even when she has barely anything left." There's what feels like a collective breath being held by the crowd as they wait for the answer to the question of who he's talking about.

"To my girlfriend." You see the moment the cameras pin to you, your face plastered on the jumbotron as Quinn stares you down, you freeze, unused to the attention. "I've watched you teach, watched you bring your students here, watched you stay up late to get their extra essays marked and complete college applications for them and you're truly amazing at it. You're an amazing teacher." Your lip starts to wobbles, eyes filling with tears because this is...this is really sweet and overwhelming and your face is still plastered in front of thousands of people so you refuse to cry.

"I don't think you always realise how good you are at what you do or how much of a positive impact you make, so I asked some of your students to share a few messages...I hope you don't kill me for this." The crowd laughs at the joke, but you can tell he's a little worried that he's overstepped, that you'll be upset with him for this. You're not though, how could you be when he was trying to do something so sweet for you?

The screen changes to show David, out of all of your students, it's David. He's stood in the school sports hall, decked in, as per usual, all his Vancouver merch. He's asked if there's any message he has for you and you watch as the boy that gives you the most shit, the kid that turns up late all the time, who barely seems to care about your subject, who interrupts your lessons constantly, actually smiles.

"You're the coolest teacher here. Like you took us to meet the Canucks! And, I know I turn up late and I totally talk over you a lot, but thanks 'cause even when i'm being a asshole you still got my back. Also you gotta invite me to the wedding!" You laugh with everyone else at the bleeped out work, on brand for David who you tell off for swearing all the time.

The screen shifts, one of your sweet nerdy girls, Alice, coming to the screen, shifting nervously as she's asked the same question.

"Thank you for always marking my extra essays and giving me help on my college application. I'm sorry the class talks a lot, but you're really cool and I actually learn something in your class, so thank you."

This continues on and on, Quinn had gotten at least 10 of your students to say messages of thanks to you and by the end your promise to yourself that you wouldn't cry in front of thousands of people is thoroughly broken.

The screen shifts back to Quinn, "I love you and I hope you and every other teacher in this arena knows how much of impact you make and how important you are. You're the real everyday heroes, baby."

A nice older lady sat near you helps you dry your face when its over and even offers you a butterscotch candy when the national anthems end. You're shaking through all of the first period, not in a bad way, just overwhelmed with love. Love for Quinn, love for your students, for your job, for the reality that all those hours working outside of contract time mean something, that you're doing something worthwhile.

There's a sense of relief as well, that you don't have to hide how loud you scream when Quinn scores in the second period, the way he can openly skate past you and smile afterwards as if to say the goal was for you. You feel liberated from the secretiveness of your relationship, the insane level of privacy that meant you didn't acknowledge each other at the rink.

The game ends with the Canucks winning 5-3 in regulation, a nice end to a overwhelming day. Normally you'd drive home rather than wait for Quinn to wrap up with the press, always worried about being seen together, but today you wait by his car, saying goodbye to his teammates when they each walk past you on their own way home.

He's not quite smiling when he sees you, there's an apprehension on his face, a sort of worry that makes your heartache.

"Hey, baby," You smile at him when he comes within a few feet of you, his shoulders tense like he's expecting you to tell him off for the big stunt he pulled even as you smile at him.

"You're not going to kill me, right?"

You don't say anything, just step into his personal space and loop your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can get without being literally inside of him.

"That might have been the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, Quinn."

"So you...you liked it?" His hands find your hips, fingers tapping nervously even as his shoulders start to relax, the beginnings of a smile starting to pull at his lips.

"Mmhmm, thank you..." You reach up, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, only pulling back enough to talk, "I love you and i'm of so proud of you." It's whispered, gentle like the last breeze of summer and it has the same effect on him, Quinn practically shivers in your arms, a thrill of delight working its way through his nervous system.

"I love you so much, I just...I wanted you to know i'm not embarrassed of you. I'm really proud of you, baby. I just...I wanted everyone to finally know that you're my girl and how proud I am of what you do." There's a flush to his cheeks as he avoids your eye like he's embarrassed to be this soppy. It's sweet, how bashful he can get at the grown age of 25 and it makes it impossible to resist pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth, one to his chin, and another to his cheek.

"And now they know, so I guess we can start turning up to games together..."

"You'd like that?" Quinn's eyes grow wide with excitement, pulling back to look at you fully like you've just offered to take him wakeboarding.

"Mmm, means I can wait around for you at the end so you have something to look forward to after press duty."

"Absolutely, yes." He pulls you in tight, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and just breathing you in. Mumbling sweet nothings over and over as if they were needed, as if you didn't already know how much he cared about you.

"I love you." You can't help but say it again especially as he complains when you separate from him and say you have to drive your own car home. You say it again when he tries to convince you to just leave your car at the rink, and fails miserably at convincing you.

There's a feeling of contentment as you drive, Quinn's car following behind you, a sense that this was a new chapter, the next step. A sense of freedom, that both of you didn't have to be quite so careful anymore. You knew it wouldn't be easy and there would be issues with going public, but...you were glad not to be hiding anymore.

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

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valsverse · 1 year ago

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— general dating hc's

pairing: percy jackson, annabeth chase, leo valdez, piper mclean, hazel levesque, jason grace, frank zhang (respectively) x gn!reader

word count: 3.0k part two

percy jackson

• underwater kisses!! all the time!! being a son of poseidon has its benefits. the whole experience is just magical fr. it's like being in a whole different world, where nothing else matters except for the two of you. the sensation of your lips touching, your bodies intertwined, and the sound of your breathing mixing with the water is simply unforgettable. the way your hands hold onto each other, the way your eyes lock, and the way your heart beats as one, it's a feeling that can't be replicated anywhere else.

• percy 100% teaches you how to skate. the first chance he gets, he'll lead you onto the smooth, concrete surface of the skate park with the intent of teaching you!!

he patiently guides you, holding your hands and rolling you along while walking beside you. he teaches you how to shift your weight, how to balance, and how to stop. and every time you stumble, he makes a huge show of catching you in his arms LMAO. like, it's not that serious, percy.

whenever he's skating alone, he can't help but think of you. :(( the way your hair sways in the wind, the sound of your laughter, and the warmth of your hand in his. he would often skate in circles, lost in thought, imagining you by his side. <33 (all the other skaters think he looks like a fool, but he doesn't care.)

• now don't tell me you two do not have matching jewelry, because you DO. he learns a lot about your style and preferences, (he knows if you look better in gold or silver) and the pretty necklaces and stuff are just a bonus!!

he wears a necklace with several charms all the time, since it was a gift from you! some of the charms include an ocean charm and a tiny silver skateboard that dangles from the delicate chain. whenever he misses you, he would reach up and touch the necklace, feeling the smooth metal under his fingers, and smile. <33

• whenever you explain things to percy, he nods his head in agreement, but you notice his gaze flickering towards your lips ever so often. you don't know what he's thinking, but his expression provides a pretty obvious hint as to what may be on his mind.

• growing up as a child of one of the big three can certainly take its toll on anyone, even percy. after a long day of training and preventing new campers from capsizing the canoes while racing with the naiads, all he wants is to melt into your embrace.

he sneaks into your cabin with you as soon as possible, laying down on your bed, a deep sigh escaping his lips and he stretches his neck from side to side, relishing in the brief moment of peace. his arms are outstretched, inviting you to join him, as he longs for the comfort and safety of your embrace.

it's clear that being in your presence has a calming effect on him, reassuring him that everything is going to be alright. <33

annabeth chase

• annabeth has a penchant for discovering new things to learn and become deeply invested in, and she talks to you about her newest interests all the time. when you take the time to listen to her ramblings about her current passions, she gets so excited!!

sometimes, you spend hours in the library researching the concepts and terminology she speaks of, just so that you can engage in a meaningful conversation with her instead of just nodding along. the effort is well worth it to see her reaction; the way her face lights up as she smiles, leaning in to give you a big kiss on the cheek as a reward!!

• but sometimes annabeth rambles way too much. like, wayyyy too much. i'm talking hours on end. while her voice is soothing and you enjoy lying in her arms while she speaks, it can be a lot at times.

and annabeth only stops talking when she's finished gushing. unless you kiss her first.

although she tries to act like your affection doesn't work on her, complaining with phrases like, "why did you do that," or "you didn't let me finish." but her tone clearly softens. her eyes crinkling at the corners, and soon enough her facade breaks and she can no longer hold back a smile. <33

• you guys still use pinky promises. it doesn't matter if she personally thinks it's trivial, she does it for your sake because she values your belief in it. and if anyone dares to make fun of it, she'd be glaring daggers at them the entire day. if looks could kill, they'd be dead.

(and after you two interlock pinkies she kisses the palm of your hand to seal the deal.)

• annabeth isn't big on PDA, but she definitely steals kisses when people aren't looking.

• annabeth love, love, LOVES reading to you!! especially when there's nobody around and it's just the two of you, your head on her lap as she reads aloud about the wonders of Richardsonian Romanesque style architecture... whatever that is. (but she makes it sound interesting so you don't care.)

• overall 10/10, what a queen.

leo valdez

• he's your portable heater fr. leo keeps you warm by holding you close. it's particularly convenient when you're nestled on his lap or resting against his chest.

• this man can COOK. he mainly cooks food from his heritage because it's a way for him to connect to his roots, but if you ask him to make a particular dish for you, he'll do it, no questions asked. it's a common sight to catch a glimpse of him in the kitchen, diligently chopping ingredients and following the recipe to your favorite dish, getting himself completely covered in smoke and steam by the end of the process, but the result is always delicious so neither of you care.

he'll often call you into the kitchen to taste-test his newest recipe, shoving the dish in your face and urging you to try it like, "here babe, taste it!!" with the brightest smile as he eagerly waits for your feedback. he values your opinions a lot!

• him calling you petnames in spanish >>> omg. among his favorites are "mi amor" (my love), "cariño" (darling), and "corazón" (sweetheart). he usually rotates between those three and it never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks because like, hello??? how could it not??? he's always quick to notice your reaction and can't resist teasing you, playful remarks leaving his lips like, "a little flustered now are we, mi amor?" 🙏🙏🙏

• no matter how long you've been together, leo still flirts with you like it's the first time he's seen you. he'll brace himself against the nearest doorframe and unleash the cheesiest pick-up line known to mankind. despite their predictability, you play along. the game ends when he asks you on a "first date."

• leo spends a lot of time tinkering in his workshop, so whenever boredom sets in, (or if he's just thinking of you) he likes to put his creativity to use by making various small creations with you on his mind. these items range from keychains, to mini jewelry boxes, and even small flowers carved out of metal scraps. (you now have enough to make a bouquet.) your nightstand and shelves are absolutely littered with his handiwork, and you take pride in owning each one of them. <33

• leo's the type of guy that twirls you around while hugging. there's something incredibly spontaneous and thrilling about the experience — just when you think he's only reaching for your hand, he suddenly lifts you off the ground and spins you around, generating a moment of pure joy before gently setting you down once again, and leaning back in for a normal hug.

• he's so whipped for you it's not even funny.

piper mclean

• piper hates being categorized as a typical child of aphrodite due to the expectations and assumptions that come with the title, especially given the reputation of some of her siblings. she's always quick to reassure you that she won't break your heart and that her love for you is truly genuine.

• piper has a soft spot for when you play with her hair; running your fingers through her choppy locks and especially when you braid it. when you gently scratch her scalp while brushing your nails through her hair, she gets lost in her own little world.

• piper isn't afraid to show you off if you're okay with it. like she's in a beautiful, loving relationship, why wouldn't she?? also she's a hand swinger FR. 🙏🙏🙏

• you guys have matching bracelets!! nothing fancy, just a bunch of multi-colored beads on a string, but she loves them so much. sometimes you dedicate dates to making these bracelets just because it's one of her favorite pastimes.

she has one with your name written on the beads, a couple with the titles of the albums you listen to together, as well as ones with your preferred color schemes. just anything to remind her of you. <33

her collection is so big that they now stack up to her arms. maybe it's becoming a problem.

• while piper doesn't like flaunting her wealth, if she sees that you have your eye on something she'll immediately buy it for you. no questions asked. you don't even need to say anything.

maybe you'll bring it up ONCE, not even asking her to buy it, just mentioning you were saving up for a particular item, and the next day it's on your bed with a note from her. when you ask her she'll just be like, "weren't you talking about it?"

• while piper is pretty self-conscious about her singing, she'll do it if you ask her to because she trusts you. if you're having trouble sleeping, she'll lay your head in her lap and sing a short melody, and it works every time. once you drift off, she’ll place a tender kiss on your forehead, (or multiple) and express how much you mean to her, because she can't be this sentimental when you're awake.

she's so in love omg.

hazel levesque

• she's the absolute sweetest girlfriend you could ever ask for! her sweet and loving nature is simply amazing and her love for you knows no bounds. she goes above and beyond to make you feel appreciated and loved in every way possible.

• she definitely loves to go horse-back riding with you. the sensation of the wind blowing through your hair, the warm sun kissing your skin, and the gentle sound of the horse's hooves rhythmically hitting the ground beneath you — it all feels like pure magic, especially since hazel is sharing the moment with you!

• over time, hazel got more comfortable with kisses. the first time you two shared a kiss, she timidly brushed her lips against yours before rapidly withdrawing, her hands instinctively covering her face in embarrassment.

but as time went by and your relationship progressed, she soon began to relax and gain confidence, especially with you relaxing and guiding her through every step of the way. <33

PDA isn't really her thing, but when the two of you are in private, she WILL shower you with kisses on various parts of your body, including your forehead, cheeks, neck, lips, and anywhere else she can reach. i feel like she'd especially love kissing your nose. it's quite endearing to watch her stand on her toes to give you a sweet smooch if you're tall, or simply grab your face and plant a gentle kiss on your nose if you're shorter.

• hazel is doing her best to learn about your interests, but like many things in the today's world, it's a learning process for her. but your help makes her feel more at ease in this modern world. there is still a lot that hazel doesn't fully comprehend, so she values the historical insights you share with her.

• hazel's love languages are acts of service and gift giving. she loves the way your eyes light up when she pampers you. she's also so patient when she helps you with your sword-fighting!! she goes the extra mile to help you master any technique, training with you for hours on end just to see your smile. she patiently guides you through each step, offering advice and encouragement along the way. her joy comes from your progress and happiness.

• okay this is a small thing but she always lets you have the last bite!! whether you're dining out or sharing popcorn at the movies, hazel is always mindful of ensuring that you get the last bite/handful. <33

she's so cute omg.

jason grace

• i think most of us know how touch starved this man is, but he slowly eases into romantic gestures. after a long day of praetor duties, all he wants to do is melt in your arms as you whisper sweet nothings to him.

jason loovvees resting his forehead against yours. it just brings him a sense of comfort and solace, really just your presence itself makes him feel safe. <33

• jason grows to love hand-holding! it starts off with just linking pinkies, but progresses when you take his calloused palms into yours. from the second you two intertwine hands, he's hooked.

he doesn't really know how to initiate hand-holding, so he often makes excuses like, "here, let's compare hand sizes." or "aren't you cold? let me warm up your hands for you." and proceeds to take both of your hands in his without waiting for a response because he just can't ask upfront. :(( (don't worry, he gets over it as the relationship progresses.) his GRIP on your hand is so noticeable LMAO. it's like he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

he most definitely places kisses on your hand. 🙏🙏🙏 i'm talking regency era jane austen style kisses to your fingertips or palm, looking away with a visible blush. <33

• hear me out, considering his expertise in combat, this man has gotta have some beefy arms okayyy?? like, it's hard not to stare at them. and once he rolls up his sleeves, it's all over FR.

he does it without thinking at first, whether it's tidying up his cabin, strategizing battle plans, or sometimes just mindlessly sighing and rolling up his sleeves when something's on his mind. but he starts to notice how your gaze lingers on his forearms a little too long to be considered "normal", and once he figures it all out, he's having a whole field day with it.

basically, he makes a point to show off his arms around you whenever he could. it drives you crazy, and guess what? he's well aware of it. you know this given that he'll occasionally flash one of his rare jason grace smiles, which later transitions into a grin with a slightly raised lip. 🙏🙏🙏

• he's such a gentleman fr. even little things like holding open doors for you even if it means waiting a few extra moments, offering his sweater when you're cold without hesitation, or fixing up a plate for you during dinner, he's always trying to make life a little easier for you. <33

frank zhang

• frank gives the best bear hugs! (both literally and figuratively.) in the early stages of a relationship, he may come across as a bit awkward. not because he doesn't want to initiate anything, but rather because he's a bit unsure of himself. he takes his time to get to know you and build trust before stepping up his game and expressing his love in more obvious ways. as time passes, he becomes more comfortable and eases into the relationship at a sweet and slow pace, making sure to respect your boundaries and wishes. :((

he loves holding you and making you feel loved, so cuddles aren't uncommon. he takes care to express his affection in a way that makes you feels comfortable and appreciated!! he's always asking you, "do you feel alright?" or "is this fine?" because what may be okay one day might not be okay the next.

typically, he prefers to be the big spoon, but he's is also happy being the little spoon, because he believes that vulnerability and intimacy go both ways in a relationship!!

• frank has the ability to shapeshift into tons of different animals, and he uses this to his advantage while cuddling with you!! imagine waking up to find a cuddly koala bear clinging onto you protectively one day, and then the next day, holding a sweet and adorable tea-cup sized labrador puppy in your hands. the cuddling possibilities are endless!!

• your decision to date frank despite any challenges along the way has had such an impact on his self-esteem. like, seriously!! every word of praise you offer him is treasured, and he adores being around you; in fact, he flourishes in your presence. your encouragement has really made a difference in his life. <33

• he love, love, LOVES holding your hand!! he seems to find every opportunity to intertwine his fingers with yours, and in moments of stress or anxiety, he'll often tap or lightly pull on your hand as if seeking reassurance because your touch brings him a sense of comfort and safety.

• considering that frank's height ranges from 6'3-6'6, you're probably shorter than him. and yeah, he definitely utilizes his height advantage around you.

he loves by approaching you from behind and embracing you, regardless of your own height, and another plus is that he can easily lean down for a kiss!!

his height is particularly convenient around high shelves or objects that may be out of your reach. his height also provides a sense of protection and security for you because he can easily shield you from any harm that may come your way!

overall, 10/10 would date again.

a/n

WHY DO MY FICS KEEP GETTING LONGER AND LONGER LMFAOO.

i wanted to keep this fic relatively short but omg i could not fit everything i wanted in one post. part 2 maybe??

i love writing hc's because they're a lot more casual but my next post will probably be a regular oneshot. :))

xx, val.

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moonstruckme · 3 months ago

Note

Mae!!! I am so happy to see you opening up requests for Thawing Out because I am genuinely OBSESSED and I haven’t stopped thinking about it 💖💖💖 So, what if during practice, Remus (unknowingly, obviously) said something to r, like making a correction or something, and it’s something Peter had said. And Sirius recognizes it too!! And you can decide what happens 🥰 Love you! 💖

Thank you for requesting lovely <33

collab with @ellecdc

cw: modern au, chronic pain, Peter mention

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2k words

You’re an angel on the ice. Gliding and sweeping, your movements so ethereal Sirius half expects to look down and find that your skates are floating above the surface of the ice, or that you’ve etched the next great work of art into the canvas beneath your feet. But he doesn’t, because it’s clear as day that the true art is in the creation, and it’s got its fingers clasped around his. Sirius feels lucky to bear witness.

You have the look of someone who’s given themselves over to their craft, your expression poised but eyes sparkling as you transition neatly from one move to the next until you’re coasting alongside Sirius. You’re wearing leg warmers today, far from unconventional in your sport but it’s humiliating how adorable he finds it on you. Your nails are short and neat, fingers surprisingly warm in his own, eyelashes fluttering as you tilt your head back.

You make it look easy. The way you arch your back until you’re nearly parallel to the ice, skating on only the edge of one skate while Sirius draws you in a circle around him. He starts to lower himself, finding the position you’d practiced off ice. Your grip on his hand is strong, your head tilting until the hairs escaping from your bun are whipping just above the ice, until Sirius is sure you can feel its chill on the back of your neck, and he can’t do it.

He keeps you a few inches above where he knows you’re supposed to be, holds you there with the momentum of his spin, and then hoists you up and into your spin.

You look at him bemusedly as you land on your other skate, a questioning flicker of eye contact Sirius pretends not to notice. You finish out the rest of your routine perfectly.

“That was great,” Remus says from the entryway. Sirius has noticed that he’s taken to watching you from there rather than from the bleachers on days when his hip isn’t giving him as much trouble. He wonders if Remus is almost tantalizing himself, standing on the edge of the ice but knowing he can’t go further. “Y/n, you had a lovely arch going into the spiral, but I want to see you stay more on that outside edge during the lutz-loop combination. Just play it safe on that one, alright?”

“Yeah.” You nod, looking encouraged. “Sorry, I felt myself slip a bit there.”

“You managed it just fine,” Remus reassures you. He gives you a gentle smile, and Sirius stomach does something fluttery and unsanctioned. “It’s good that you noticed, we only want to keep an eye on it, yeah?”

You smile in reply. The commotion in Sirius’ stomach worsens.

“And Sirius,” Remus turns to him, “we still have to get a bit lower on the spiral. Her head should be below her knee.”

Sirius frowns. “I know.”

It’s a non-answer and Remus knows it, but he doesn’t snipe back at him. His brows twitch together thoughtfully. “We’ve still got a few days. Do you need more time to practice off ice?”

“No,” Sirius replies. He wishes the other boy would get angry with him, give him something to shoot back at, something other than kindness and temperance and this lame, irksome understanding. He almost wants to roll his eyes as he adds, “I’ll work on it.”

Remus seems (frustratingly) appeased with that. “Alright, just be careful on your left pick when you get down there.” His voice takes on a teasing lilt. “We don’t need any more accidents this close to competition, Pads.”

Sirius waits for the flash of irritation. But your laughter rings out brilliant and lovely, and Remus is smiling at the both of you with something like fondness, and he can’t seem to find it.

Fucking James. Sirius ought to know better than to automatically trust anyone his best friend likes—you’ve both suffered the consequences from that once already—but it’s difficult to summon his usual disdain for Remus after watching the two of them chinwag and snicker like old friends at practice the other day. It was odd seeing James so familiar with someone else, but Sirius found he couldn’t muster any jealousy. As much as he loathes to think of it, you were right—learning James and Remus were old friends did make him think. In ways that remind Sirius why thinking is one of his least favorite activities.

He shoots Remus the bird over his shoulder. Unfortunately, in doing so, he fails to notice a blemish in the ice which catches his skate, causing him to pitch forward before righting himself.

Remus’ lips twitch, but Sirius holds up a hand. “You can keep your quips to yourself.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Then you can keep your looks to yourself.”

You implement Remus’ alteration to your lutz-loop combination flawlessly. It’s something you’ve always been good at, confident enough to take feedback and skilled enough to make the changes stick. It’s part of why you’re as good as you are, the amalgamation of every scrap of advice you’ve ever received and a fierce determination that's all your own. You jump and spin and twist your way through the routine beautifully.

Sirius, on the other hand, is not so great with critiques. The death spiral stays exactly the way it is, with your head safely above the ice and neither of you low enough to get full points. And that’s likely how it will stay.

He can tell you and Remus are both getting more frustrated, more disappointed, every time he fails to take it all the way, but Sirius can’t bring himself to go any further. His heart won’t let him.

“We’ll do some more off ice tomorrow,” Remus decides for him as you both take off your skates. “We’ve got the time, everything else is looking beautiful. Sirius, maybe work on getting low on your own today, so we’ve less to cover tomorrow.” Sirius nods down towards his skates. He doesn’t feel like looking at either one of you. “And y/n, the only thing I’m still noticing from you is that landing on your triple axle. You’re a bit wobbly. I want you to focus on controlling your descent and really sticking it. It looks nearly perfect, you’re just making me a little nervous—this would be a shit time to have to go into an early retirement, wouldn’t it?”

It’s said lightly, a hint of a smile at the tail end, but your face twinges like he’s snapped at you. Remus’ brow furrows in mild confusion, and Sirius feels a hard fist clench in his chest. He wouldn’t know what had made you react like that either, if you hadn’t repeated Peter’s words to him yourself.

He told the other coach that I was one bad jump away from injuring myself into an early retirement.

“I’m not actually worried about that—you’re too skilled for an injury that severe to be very likely, I just,” Remus is watching you carefully, clearly trying to reason out where he went wrong, “thought I should bring it to your attention. Only as a precaution.”

You nod several times, quicker and harder than necessary. “Yeah.” Your lips press into a smile. “I’ll be careful, thanks.”

Sirius sets his hand on top of yours, shit at comfort but meaning to try anyway, but your hand slips away as you get up and sling your bag over your shoulder.

“I have to get home,” you say, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder as if in apology. Your expression is tight. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Remus echoes. He watches you go with a half-remorseful look on his face, like he doesn’t know what he’s done but he feels bad for it anyway.

Seeing as you haven’t waited for him, Sirius supposes he’ll be walking home on his own today. He sets his skates in his bag, beginning to tug on his shoes.

Remus broaches the silence almost tentatively. “Did she seem alright to you?” Sirius doesn’t know how to respond to that, but the other boy goes on before he has to. “Did…do you know if I said something to upset her?”

Sirius shrugs. “Nope.”

Remus can probably smell the lie—he’s not gone to any great lengths to conceal it—but Sirius doesn’t care. The look of hurt on your face has set a familiar protective ire buzzing beneath his skin, and Remus is the one who caused it. Neither of you owe him any explanation.

Remus falls quiet again, but he waits while Sirius finishes packing up, walks with him towards the exit.

“How long have you and James been friends?” he asks.

“A long time,” Sirius answers shortly. “I moved in with him and his parents when I was sixteen.”

“Oh.” Remus turns to look at him. Sirius feels his gaze, wide and curious, on the side of his face. “Yeah, a long time, then. It was nice to talk to him again. We used to run into each other so often, but I hadn’t seen him since…well, since I left, I suppose.”

There’s a melancholy that lays itself down over those last few words, the nostalgia in Remus’ voice smothered underneath. Maybe it’s that quiet tone, maybe it’s the image of James and Remus together, laughing and talking about their futures on the ice during early mornings at the rink, but Sirius feels himself softening.

“He mentioned something,” Remus says tentatively, “about your last coach. It didn’t sound like things ended well.”

Sirius pushes out a breath. “They didn’t.”

“Was he not very good?”

“No,” he can hear the frustration seeping into his voice. He wishes Peter were worse at his job. That he’d been an idiot, didn’t understand your styles, and none of you had ever managed to get along. It would have made everything so much easier. “He was good.”

“I’m not trying to pry,” says Remus, “but if what happened with him is going to affect how you two are with me—if it has anything to do with how I upset y/n today—I would appreciate if you told me.”

So Sirius does. He’s not sparing with the details, and Remus doesn’t begrudge him the anger that grips him as he talks about Peter’s betrayal, where it left the two of you, how it’s still coming back to hurt you even now. It makes him furious, but where he’d expected Remus to take it all in calmly, Sirius is surprised when the other boy’s jaw gets tight as he listens. He has questions: How long had you worked with Peter? Did either of you have to get involved with the case, or did his emails speak for themselves? Does Sirius know how long Peter was playing double-agent?

By the time they’re on Sirius’ block, Remus has begun alternating between shaking his head and huffy, revolted exhalations.

“I can’t believe he said that to her.” He shakes his head, guilt digging into the space between his brows. “I can’t believe I said it, either, but I was only trying to make a joke about myself, not…she’s far too skilled to have a fall like that—well, anyone could, but she’s only as likely as anyone else at her level. Which isn’t very many people.”

“That’s what I told her,” Sirius agrees. “I think she was mostly over it, but…”

“I reminded her.” Remus sighs. “I’ll have to make it up to her.”

“She’ll be alright,” he says honestly. “I think it just surprised her.”

“She’s really good.”

“I know.”

“She has to know that.”

“She…” Sirius hesitates. “Do we ever really know it, about ourselves?”

“Oh, come off it.” Remus gives Sirius a knowing look. His mouth tugs up on one side. “You clearly know how good you are.”

Sirius feels a pleased tingle of warmth in his face. He walks backwards up the stairs to his flat, leveling Remus with a cocky grin. “Am I?”

“Don’t. You maintain your own ego well enough without my help.”

“Oh, but it never hurts to have disciples.” He fishes out his key, unlocking the door. “You could remind me from time to time, just for fun.”

When he turns, Remus is watching him from the sidewalk with a gleam of something like amusement in his eye. “Nail the spiral,” he says, “and we’ll see.”

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s-brant · 1 year ago

Text

Make It Better

my masterlist (gif: @conradfiisher)

After getting into an argument with his brother, Conrad seeks out the comfort of a close friend.

8k (18+)

Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, strong language, and slight angst.

For every girl in Cousins, there was something about Conrad Fisher that made them go a little crazy. And for Y/N, a girl who grew up with the Fishers and Conklins next door every summer, it was the fact that he decided to choose her of all people to be with. Even if Belly had him first, it was all worth it to her.

With Conrad, it's all soft-spoken praises, feather light brushes off his fingertips against forbidden places, and sensual kisses. It's all she can see when she closes her eyes to sleep at night or merely blinks during the day. It's hard to keep it a secret when her mind refuses to stop recalling the memories at a constant rate. Still, she has to be on her best behavior seeing that it is the last night they have together before the house is officially sold by Aunt Julia. And to honor their summer house, they collectively decided to throw a goodbye party.

The vibration of the bass thumping within the walls of the house is strong enough to rattle her eardrums as she takes a shot with her arm interlinked with Cam Cameron's. He, of course, is drinking a can of soda, but she was quick to assuage his insecurity when he mentioned it. It was the thought that counted.

She and Cam have been friends since they were in middle school, so, when he joined their circle of friends through Belly last year, it made her happy to have him around in the way Jere, Steven, Conrad, and Belly always were. When he and Belly ended their fling, she was there for both of them. She hugged Cam for a minute straight before letting go and offering to cheer him up with ice cream. For Belly, she told her she did the right thing by not leading him on and told her to follow her heart, wherever it may lead her, as they swam in the pool.

How was Y/N supposed to know it would lead her straight into the arms of the boy she's always loved?

"Okay," Cam rips her from her thoughts as he speaks, shoving his hydroflask filled with ice water into her hands, "You are officially cut off for the night until I see you drink some of this. I think your blood may be fifty percent tequila at this point."

She frowns at him.

"You're no fun, but I appreciate you looking out," she says.

She stays with him to swallow a few generous mouthfuls of water before handing the bottle back to him with a quiet, "Thank you. M'gonna go find Connie and Steven."

The last she checked, the two of them were taking pictures with the Polaroid camera they bought at the store earlier. They called her and Belly over to take turns taking pictures together. One of them all together, one of Y/N and Steven, then Belly and Conrad, and, finally Y/N and Conrad.

It was hard to watch Belly pose with him considering their extensive history together, but he knew that, and when it was her turn to pose with him, he wrapped his hand around her waist and entwined his fingers in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. This made it extremely difficult for her not to smile too hard as she looked at the camera lens.

After the flash went off, Steven, the only person to know the details of their recent, days-old affair, says, "Wait, one more! One more! You'll thank me later, I swear."

With Belly having skated off, Taylor doing God knows what, and Jere lingering not far from wherever Belly went, they didn't feel too worried when they were directed to hug for the camera. Her cheek squished against his, their chests rising and falling to meet one another like matching puzzle pieces, and the scent of his body wash—the proximity to him was intoxicating.

"Okay, smileee—"

The flash off went off, and they stayed together for a few seconds longer than necessary before reluctantly pulling apart.

Steven handed each of them one of the pictures with a wink before saying, "Alright, Taylor wants me to do shots with her. I'll probably be back soon."

Conrad got the first one and she got the second. They couldn't help how they smiled as they stood side by side to admire them. His was carefully placed in the back pocket of his pants, which then made her realize that she did not have any pockets herself.

"Can you keep it safe for me?" she asked with a bright, moony-eyed expression. Her hands then slid down the front of her dress to feel for any place to store the photograph only to come up empty. "It's my own fault. Shouldn't have worn a dress."

His eyes softened as they looked up and down the length of her body, then settled back on her eyes.

"No," he said before he could stop himself, "it's perfect."

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was about to open her mouth to speak when Cam and Skye called her name from across the room.

After a second, he spoke again, "I'll catch up with you later, Padme."

When he turned to walk away, he heard her giggle from behind his back at the inside joke shared between the two of them.

As she searches through the house for him now, she smiles to herself at the thought of it. It originated when they were mere children. After finishing a marathon of the Star Wars franchise in release order—the only correct way to watch it according to Susannah and Laurel—one summer, they all became obsessed with playing pretend with sticks as lightsabers. A week later, once it became apparent that it wasn't a fleeting phase, Susannah surprised them with toy lightsabers.

Somehow, they decided amongst themselves who was who, and it just so happened that Y/N was Padme and Conrad was Anakin. Jere and Steven made a deal to take turns playing Obi-Wan Kenobi since they originally both wanted to be him, and Belly, the youngest of the bunch, was so happy to be included that she would play whatever character they wanted her to for the day. The only roles that never changed were Anakin and Padme. Even when they got to the main trilogy in their game of pretend, Conrad played Darth Vader, and Y/N let Belly be Princess Leia while she played as Darth Sidious. One way or another, they were always paired in some way. Fated.

They much preferred playing as the star-crossed lovers as opposed to the pair of evil Sith Lords. It pleased her more than she ever let on that she and Conrad were together, even if it was just pretend. They've always teasingly called each other by those names ever since.

She peeks into every entryway when she walks by in hopes that she'll spot Conrad or Steven, but neither of them appears. It isn't until she steps out onto the front porch after searching the whole lower level of the house that she finds one of them. Well, actually, she hears one of them. Conrad.

"Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could—"

"But it wasn't every day!"

Jeremiah, she notes as she stands with her back against the front door. Neither of them sees her.

"Okay, okay," Conrad retorts. "What do you want? A medal?"

What Jere says next makes her have to look away in the direction of the neighbor's yard, not wanting to see the heartbreak written across his brother's face as he calls him a coward. Her jaw tightens with every vitriolic word spewed at him. It isn't her place to interrupt, but it kills her to stand by and listen.

"You're not someone to look up to. You're not even someone I wanna know."

The universe must have a cruel sense of humor, because the second these words are said, someone trying to swing the door open against her back sends her stumbling forward into their line of vision. The sound of her falling to her hands and knees brings their attention away from one another instantly.

Her eyes meet Jeremiah's first, then they immediately switch to lock eyes with Conrad, and the first thing out of her mouth is, "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything. I just came out here cause I couldn't find you guys. I'll go back inside." Despite her anger at what she overheard, she makes sure to look at both of them when she says, "I'm sorry."

She's already on her feet and facing the front door, abandoned by the guy who tried to walk out only to be greeted with this shit-show, when Jeremiah says, his tone harsh, "Don't. I was already leaving."

This makes her stop in her tracks, her hand frozen in place where it grabs the door handle, and, after she listens to Jere's footsteps gradually disappear, she turns back around.

Conrad is closer now than he was a second ago. Rather than remain in the driveway where he and his brother argued, he stands on the porch with his hands in his pockets. The look on his face...it's heartbreaking. His eyes are glassy, his lips downturned into a slight frown he tries to keep at bay, and knows based on the look he gives her alone that he will never forget what Jere said to him tonight.

She says softly, "Connie," unsure of what else to say to him, but that's all it takes to open the floodgates.

Silent tears start to fall down his cheeks as she closes the distance between them to take him into her arms in a comforting embrace. He bends down a little to allow his head to rest on her shoulder. Her hand cups the back of it to cradle his face into the soft crook of her neck, giving him the shelter he needs from the rest of the party to cry it out. The arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tightly enough to push the air from her lungs, but she never complains. To be in his arms is a blessing regardless of the reason and circumstances behind it.

They remain this way for the better half of a minute before he has the courage to break the silence. The hand on the back of his head brushes through his hair in a repetitive motion in hopes that it will soothe him.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" he asks. "I just"—he shakes his head—"I can't think straight right now..."

She nods.

"We can go to my house."

The Fishers and Conklins aren't nearly as familiar with her family's summer house as she is with theirs, but they have been inside a few times. On days when he didn't feel like being around everyone last summer, Conrad would come over and sit in the chair in the corner of her room, blowing the smoke from his joint out of the window while she cleaned, folded laundry, or read whatever book Laurel had recommended to her at the time. It was domestic in a way that made her heart skip a beat. It made her imagine how it would be in the future if they were together. If they truly ended up getting married as they pretended to when they were children while playing as Anakin and Padme.

She reaches down and entwines their fingers in order to lead him away in the direction of the house next door. It's a short walk over the fence gate that connects their yards. That was Susannah's doing. Five years into her friendship with the kids in her house, she and Y/N's parents agreed to install a new fence with a gate between their two properties to allow their children to play without having to leave the yard.

With everyone busy partying, no one should come back to sleep until way later. It wasn't until after they arrived back from their night at the country club that she remembered where her mom kept the spare key, so the others may forget their plans to sleep there. If they do, she'll shoot them a text in the group chat to remind them rather than allow them to sleep on the floor.

The door is already unlocked from when she went inside to shower and get ready with Taylor and Belly before the party, so all it takes is her turning the handle to allow them access.

She drops his hand once the door is kicked shut behind them and looks over her shoulder to say, "I think there's frozen food in the garage freezer if you're hungry," as she walks toward the kitchen. "And there's still my mom's Diet Coke in the fridge. We could always mix it with my dad's whiskey if you wanna keep drinking."

From behind, she can hear his footsteps on the freaking hardwood floor, getting closer and closer until his hand wraps around her arm to spin her around to face him.

"What—"

The question is cut short by his lips crashing against hers.

Kissing Conrad is something she doesn't think she will ever get used to or grow tired of. No matter how many times it happens, which, so far, has been at least three times since the night they spent at the country club, it takes her breath away the same as it had the first time when they were just children playing pretend.

Her arms are thrown around his neck in less than a second to pull him closer, and she doesn't hesitate to kiss him back. Not even for a second. At first, she is too intoxicated with the thrill of having him touching her to remember why they came here in the first place. Every thought revolves around him—the taste of the alcohol on his tongue, the feeling of his chest pressing against hers, and how confidently his hands find their place on her waist.

A second later, the memory of the fight he and Jere had comes back to her, and she forces herself to push him away.

"Wait," she says with her hands flattened against his chest to create some distance between them. "Wait, Connie."

When he opens his eyes, they're overflowing with concern for her. She already knows that he is assuming he made a mistake or that she doesn't truly want to do this with him, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, she is the one who is concerned for him.

"Are you okay? You and Jere just..." Her expression softens a little. "I don't wanna do this unless I know you're sure you're alright."

The confusion evident on his face disappears by the time she's finished speaking. In his mind, he anticipated something much worse than her wanting to check in on him to make sure he was okay. As the seconds passed between her telling him to wait and him looking at her, he feared she'd take back everything they shared in the past few days. All the secret kisses, gentle touches, and giggles. He wasn't sure he could take losing another one of the girls he grew up with in that way.

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and stares at her without saying a word. If it were anyone else, it would be uncomfortable, but it never is with them. That's part of what keeps bringing him back to her. Of course, it can't end well seeing that he dated Belly, she's friends with her, and they had such a messy break-up, but what is he supposed to do? Ignore his feelings? Pretend not to want her when he clearly does? He can't do it. He won't. Now that he's already had a taste of her, he can't resist any it longer.

His chest rises with a deep inhale, then—

"I fucked everything up, and I knew Jere must have resented me for it, but I didn't think it was that bad," Conrad says. "I'm sad and angry, of course, but that doesn't mean you'd be taking advantage." He lets the tip of his nose brush hers with how close he comes. His voice is hardly a push of air when he speaks again. "You make everything feel better. You always have."

She doesn't allow him to kiss her again. Instead, she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck and keeps her eyes on his, not giving in even when their noses bump together and the heat of his exhales cloud on her skin. The kitchen table he has her pressed up against digs into her back, keeping her pinned in place exactly where he needs her.

"So, that's what you want?" she asks in a hushed tone even though they have the house to themselves. Every breath they take is pulled from the little pocket of air between their faces, and they can both smell the liquor on each other's breath every time they exhale. The hands on her waist slowly descend until they settle on her hips. "You want me to make it better?"

The moment she says the words, Conrad seems to melt into her touch. That is all it takes to turn him to putty in her hands, and he nods in response with his face pressed against hers.

"Is that okay?"

In other words, is that what you want? Have you been dying to get your hands on me the way I have been dying to get mine on you? It feels like a lifetime since they first hooked up in a secluded room at the country club, but it hasn't been more than a day.

In lieu of a verbal answer, she closes the inch of distance between them and connects their lips in a tender kiss.

He reciprocates with a passion that ramps up the intensity in a matter of seconds, quickly turning it from its initially timid and gentle nature into something more desperate and needy. Those hands on her hips squeeze hard to keep control and steady her body as he presses her further into the table, making her back arch a little. Her hands wander to explore every part of him now that she knows he wants this again, and she slips them up underneath his shirt to feel his bare skin beneath her palms. But when her hands make contact with his nipples, he shivers.

Their lips disconnect, shining from the saliva they share, for him to murmur, "Cold hands," as explanation before reaching down for the hem of her dress. She helps him shimmy the tight material up from where it gets stuck around her breasts until it is pulled free and tossed somewhere on the kitchen floor behind her, leaving her in only her undergarments. And he is quick to dispose of those too. Nimble fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra for a few seconds, then it finally comes loose around her back.

But, that's the last thing she lets him take off of her before she puts a hand on his chest to stop him.

Without saying a word, she grasps the bottom of his shirt and starts lifting it up to reveal his bare chest to her. He takes the hint without a second of confusion, pulling it the rest of the way off. It drops from his grasp the second it's off his head and abandoned in favor of aiding her in her attempt to undo his pants with those soft, trembling hands.

In a way, it feels similar to their first time. It was against a wall at the country club the other night after they became bored looking for a place to sleep. All they knew was that they needed to make it quick, so they did. His hand disappeared down the front of her panties to help her along, the pressure of his fingertips rubbing her clit bringing a wetness that soaked the cotton fabric concealing her from view, and that was all the preparation they took before it happened. He asked, voice quiet and low, if she'd done it before when she began tugging on his shirt as they made out, so once she said she had, all bets were off.

The thought of it slows him down for a second.

That time, they had to get it over with quickly. If they hadn't, the others likely would have gone looking for them and found out what was going on in the office room they snuck into. It was rough and quick and passionate, and he liked that, he truly did, but recalling that now makes him want to do it differently this time. Especially considering what happened before they came into this house.

"Slower, slower," he murmurs into her mouth.

The adjustment is made instantly, and she allows him to take back full control of the kiss. With his hands pulling her hips flush against his, he surrenders to the urge to rut against her to relieve the aching of his hard cock through the material of his boxer briefs and unzipped pants. He invades her open mouth with his tongue and kisses her slower, deeper than he had the last time. His teeth nip playfully at her lower lip in the second he takes to pull back for air.

His hands cup her face on either side to keep her in place as he dips down to kiss the underside of her jaw. He doesn't dare to leave any marks behind where anyone could see them, but he does take his time and suck gently on the sweet spot on the gentle slope where her shoulder and neck bridge together. Faintly, they can both hear the music from his house next door over the wet sound of his lips on her neck.

The other day, they didn't have the time to do everything he wanted to with her, but tonight they do. Tonight, he has her to himself for the first time in months, and he isn't going to take that opportunity for granted. Everything with her happened too fast for him to process. Last week, he'd been caught up on Belly, and part of him still is, but, then, Y/N came into the picture in a way he never expected. Despite the fear of ruining their lifelong friendship, to be with her felt as natural a process as breathing.

The hands on her face slip down the sides of her neck and down the front of her body until they find the band of the thin little thong she chose tonight for the sake of not having panty lines through her dress. Part of it also had to do with the possibility of this happening again, but she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

It appears, however, that he already knows when she finds the end of his mouth tipping upwards in a slight smirk as his fingers hook around the fabric. Seeing that they just hooked up yesterday and that these are a decent step up from the boy-short panties patterned with flowers he saw her in before, it isn't too difficult to put together.

Conrad sinks down onto his knees to tug it down her legs, and before her cheeks can begin to burn with embarrassment, she warns him, "Don't even."

This draws a giggle from him, his head tilting back to let him look up at her. Even in the midst of their playfulness and laughter, the sight of him kneeling before her makes her go weak in the knees. The strands of hair hanging in his eyes frame his face with an effortlessness she has envied him for her whole life. His beauty is classic, statuesque, even. He is the specific type of attractive that never falls out of trend or becomes less shocking over time. At least, not for her.

"I didn't say anything."

She counters, still laughing, "You didn't have to!"

At this point, she is grinning from ear to ear, and it's difficult to be self-conscious about being laid bare in his presence when he's looking at her like that. Her left leg is lifted off of the ground for her underwear to slide off of her ankle, but he doesn't put it back down. Instead, he turns his head to kiss her sensitive inner thigh, leaving her with nothing to do except watch while the anticipation of what he plans on doing eats her alive.

Unlike her neck, he has no qualms about marking up her thighs. It may be mildly uncomfortable to forgo wearing shorts in the summer heat, but it's doable. She can wear some of the bottoms she has stored in the dresser upstairs to keep the others from seeing if need be. His other hand grips her right hip to keep her steady while his other has her bent leg propped over his shoulder. Soon, his kisses have made a path up the length of her thigh, and she can't help but breathe heavier when she feels the heat of his exhales at the apex of her thighs.

"Connie..." she breathes out.

This brings his attention up, eyes fluttering open from where they'd been closed as he inched closer and closer to where she wants him most. And when she finds him looking up at her, pupils dilated and lips swollen from kissing, she can hardly breathe.

He asks, "You nervous?"

Words fail her. All she can do is nod.

"Don't be," Conrad whispers, the hand on her hip reaching to take hers in it for the sake of comforting her. "It's just me."

To this, she chuckles a little and tries not to shift in place with the sheer discomfort of the need she feels for him in this moment. No one has ever done this specific sexual act with her before, so the nerves are strong, but not quite as strong as her curiosity or desire.

"That's exactly why I'm nervous."

Her free hand comes down to brush the hair out of his face, and he leans into the touch like a cat brushing up between your legs. His eyes shut again for a second to appreciate the sweet gesture before looking up at her again, a slight grin begging to come to fruition on his face.

"Let me make it better, then," he says softly, in that charming, distinctly Conrad way that could take any girl's breath away with ease.

The first flick of his tongue against her is gentle, a mere glimpse of what's to come, but it stuns her all the same. Never having experienced this before, she is extremely sensitive to anything he does to her, and she finds that she's far more sensitive when it's his mouth pleasuring her as opposed to his fingers. Every soft brush of his lips against her in teasing kisses makes her hips press forward into his face in a silent command to continue without her noticing that she's doing it. He is quick to notice it, though, and he doesn't continue to tease her any longer.

This time, when he spread her open on his tongue, he gives her what she wants.

Sparks of pleasure shoot through her the second she feels him lapping at her aching clit, soft and gentle at first until he feels her grinding herself forward against his face for more. With her soft sighs and stifled moans as encouragement, he dips his head between her legs and eats her like a man starved. The remaining leg she stands on is quickly guided over his other shoulder, and his hand slips out of hers in favor of taking hold of her hips. The supple flesh of her ass is soft where it is squeezed beneath his fingertips and used as leverage to bring her as close as possible.

"Mm," she whines, "Fuck..."

The ability to speak evades her in the heat of the moment, but they both know how much she's enjoying this without her having to come out and say it. If the sounds she's making weren't enough, the hand she has gripping the back of his head to keep his mouth on her would prove it.

She knew from conversations overheard between the boys that Conrad was no stranger to this kind of thing. It may have made her heart sink into the pit of her stomach to hear it back then, but, right now, she's thankful for his experience. Every lick, kiss, and caress is placed exactly where she needs it as though he's able to read her body without having to open his eyes. The pleasure he's giving her far outweighs the jealousy she feels when she remembers that he's done this with other girls, one of them possibly being Belly.

The taste of her arousal, slick on his lips and tongue, has him humming in contentment into her as though he is the one being pleasured by this. In a way, he is. There's something intoxicating about being surrounded by her in every sense like this—her weight on his shoulders, her hands in his hair, and her thighs clamped shut on either side of his face. His dick strains against the fabric of his underwear as well as his unzipped pants, pulsing with the desire to sink into her and find his release.

She cants her hips to grind down on his face in pursuit of something closer, something deeper that they can't manage like this. And it isn't long before she starts to pull gently at his hair, reaching down and trying to pull on his arm to get the message across.

Conrad's lips part from her soaked pussy with a wet sound. When he looks up at her from between her thighs, she can see how his lips and chin are smeared with her arousal. It glistens under the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window. In seconds, the moment is already gone. The hands gripping her hips slide down to take hold of her thighs in order to guide them off of his shoulders, and when he sets her back down onto the ground, her muscles are trembling.

He's standing back up at his full height with his body slotted perfectly between her legs in the time it takes her to blink. Their next kiss is hungrier, much more aggressive in nature, than the last they shared, and she can taste herself on his lips.

In the gaps between their fervent kisses, she says, breathless, "I know you wanted to go slower this time, but I can't." His tongue invades her mouth again, pushing past her soft lips to allow the taste of her lip balm to blend with the semi-sweet taste of her pussy. It's only when his tongue retreats to give him the chance to bite down on her bottom lip that she can speak again. "Please," she whines and juts her hips out until she feels him hard against her. "We can go again after, I just want you now."

This sends him into a bit of a frenzy.

He has had his fair share of hook-ups—not nearly as many as Jere but plenty—yet there's something about her that thrills him in a way few others ever could. No girl has ever said anything like that to him. With Belly, it was her first time, so everything was tender and experimental due to the nature of the situation. With Y/N, it's different in the sense that they cannot be fairly compared. How could anyone compare a gentle, sweet first time with what may end up being the best fuck of his life, surpassing the quickie at the country club that left them both breathless and weary.

Conrad is panting for air when their lips part, their mouths hanging open and brushing as he hefts her up onto the table with little effort. Beneath her hands, she can feel his biceps flex with the quick lift. Taut muscle contracts and pushes back against her fingers before relaxing again once her ass is planted on the tabletop, but if it weren't for her hands gripping his arms for support, she wouldn't have noticed it had any effect on him. It's strangely arousing. She never gave his casual strength much thought until he utilized it in this context for the first time. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead when he had to keep her lifted against the wall at the country club as he thrust into her, but he didn't struggle.

Please. He hears her whining the word on a loop in his mind as he aids her in shoving his pants and underwear down his lean thighs. We can go again after. She wraps her hand around his length and pumps a few times despite the fact that he's already hard enough for it to ache. All the while, he's still stuck on the things she said. We can go again after. Not only does she want him now, she already knows she'll want him again. I just want you now. That crucial part gave him the answers he'd been seeking for the past twenty-four hours since he pinned her to the wall at the country club and fucked her hard enough to make the framed paintings shake on their hooks. I just want you now. It was life-altering for her too.

As he angles his hips just right to guide the broad tip of his cock into her, his fingers dig into her hips so hard, she'll be shocked if it doesn't bruise by tomorrow.

She uses the legs wrapped around his hips to push him further into her, and they both gasp at the sensation it brings them. Her heels press into the backs of his thighs, urging him to take whatever he wants from her whenever he wants it. It doesn't matter that the stretch she feels the further she urges him inside of her almost makes her have to bite down on her lip to contain a wince. Nothing matters to her except for getting as close to him as physically possible.

He lets out a low, drawn-out, "Oh fuckkk," under his breath as he sinks the rest of the way into her.

Their noses bump with every slight movement made or breath taken in, and she refuses to look away from his eyes. There's something inherently vulnerable about holding unwavering eye contact with him while he is buried in her to the hilt. The hands on his biceps slide up slowly until both of her arms are wrapped behind his neck to keep him from shying away from her at any point. This is the closeness she craved more than anything. Nothing else would do, not even having him on his knees for her.

It's a wonder that he doesn't come right away with how tightly the soft, warm walls of her pussy are squeezing around him. And when she bucks her hips up in a wordless request for him to move, he shakes his head.

Eyes clenched shut, Conrad murmurs, "I just need a second."

He feels her nod against his face, her nose nudging his cheek. For the next thirty or so seconds, he remains as still as possible. It's torture for him to stay this way and resist doing what comes naturally. Although it's for his sake, not hers, he struggles to keep a firm enough hold on his self-control. He keeps his eyes shut because he knows that if he looks at her, he won't stand a chance.

It isn't until the fire that blazed in the pit of his abdomen has calmed that he allows himself to look at her again. When he opens his eyes, she's already watching him. Her fingers twirl strands of his hair absentmindedly, and when she sees him open his eyes again, she closes the gap between their lips again.

This time, as his lips slot against hers, he draws away from her, pulling out until it's only his tip inside of her.

"You don't have to be gentle," she murmurs. "I can take it. I won't break."

His response comes in the form of him snapping his hips into her until he's gone as deep as she can take him. Despite her urging him to get rougher with her, she still gasps at the sudden intrusion and looks up at him with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. Her past hook-ups were meaningless and unfulfilling. It happened during her freshman year at Trinity College while Conrad and Belly were dating. Considering what was going on at the time, she didn't plan to talk to either of them about it afterward, and, once it was as over, she didn't want to.

It was horrible.

It was the polar opposite of her first time with Conrad. Not only was it with an uncaring frat boy she met at a party her roommate dragged her to, it was uncomfortable. He didn't do anything other than get himself hard and stick it in, and with her nerves being so bad, it was already hard for her to get aroused. But it couldn't be any more different now. It couldn't be any more different with him.

It's rougher than it was initially, yet still slow and sensual. The hands on her hips guide her into a cadence to match his movements each time he thrusts into her, stifling the sound of his own low moans by smearing his mouth against hers. It's a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues brush, saliva coating their lips, and he makes sure there isn't a single part of her left un-worshiped tonight. Whether it be her neck, her collarbone, or her jaw, he pays every part of her the attention it deserves, partly for her sake and partly because he cannot help himself.

Their lips pull apart with a loud smacking sound, and he keeps his forehead pressed to hers as he looks into her eyes, head tilting just slightly to the side. One of his hands abandons its place at her hip to slide up the length of her torso. Her stomach flinches inward at the contact of his knuckles brushing her skin on the way past, but it's when he lets his hand flatten over her breast that she lets out a shaky exhale, He doesn't spend too much time there, though. After teasing her with a gentle squeeze, his hand wraps around the back of her neck for the sake of having control of where she looks, and, right now, he wants her to look at him as he admits something to her.

"I've dreamt about this," Conrad whispers.

He delights in her slack-mouthed expression when he ruts into her a touch faster and harder for the sake of seeing the expression on her face shift.

Somehow, she finds her voice and manages to stammer out, "I"—she is interrupted by the need to take in a sharp breath of air—"I thought..."

The hand on the back of her neck squeezes harder at the implication of her unfinished statement. It isn't necessary for her to continue the thought, he already knows what it means. I thought you dreamt about Belly. He did. He dreamt of Belly every night last summer, but it was Y/N who he dreamt of first.

She was the one who awakened these feelings within him for the first time. Being the oldest alongside him, she was the first to develop, and he didn't know what to do with the feelings that surfaced the summer she came back looking less like a girl and more like a woman. She was the first person he kissed, albeit for a game they played together, not Belly. Surely, he thought she had to know that it meant something to him too, but when he looks at her now, it's clear that he thought wrong.

His brows pinch together at the sensation of her tightening up around him, but his eyes are soft. Tender. Honest. He shakes his head. Just once.

"You were first," he says it so quickly, she almost misses it. "It was you."

That doesn't mean what he had with Belly meant nothing. In fact, it means the opposite. What he had with Belly was unlike anything he experienced before, but so is this. There is no way for Conrad to compare the two because what he feels for them is so solid yet different.

With Belly, he knew what he meant to her. He knew she put him on a pedestal her whole life and believed every word he said, so it was difficult not to feel an added pressure to live up to that standard. His heart broke when he ruined prom for her, but he did it because he thought he didn't deserve her.

With Y/N, they've always mirrored one another. Both the eldest in their respective families, gifted children, and sensitive in a way that troubled them more than most of their siblings and friends. Where everyone else misunderstood Conrad, she understood him. And it was never something that had to be acknowledged out loud or spoken of. It was a law of existence.

The summer before last, when Conrad got into reading as a result of Laurel gifting him a few of her favorite classics, he ended up insisting that Y/N read Wuthering Heights shortly after he finished it. Never having read for pleasure before, she thought she'd find it difficult to devote herself to it, but she should have known. She should have known that if he wanted her to read it, there were good reasons for it. Belly and the boys were having dinner with their moms when she finally got to his favorite line.

It was underlined in red ink, she noted, not pencil. Never to be erased or undone in any way. When she read it, she knew immediately that he'd done it for her. On the page, it read, "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same," and that was the moment she knew she loved him.

Right now, as he kisses her and reaches down with the same hand that held her neck to rub her clit, it's all she can think of. So, she says it. She takes the vulnerable confession and offers one of her own in return.

"You were first for me too," she says breathlessly.

The contact of his fingertips brushing her most sensitive spot has her jolting against him in equal parts shock and pleasure. It instantly makes the feeling of him rocking into her at a steady pace all the more gratifying. What she said is fuel to the fire for him. It urges him on, chasing the weightless, stirring feeling inside of him with reckless abandon. He decides to trust what she said about being able to handle him not being gentle, because, truth be told, he can't control himself.

Conrad, lost in the haze, starts sucking at her neck after he leans down to kiss it. Everything outside of this house no longer exists to either of them, so it doesn't occur to them that they'll have to answer for the marks left behind on her come morning. No, all he can think of is what he feels for her and how he can possibly show her the full extent of it without telling her. This is the only way, he thinks. When he talks, he fucks everything up, but she has to know how he feels through this. After all, she's always had a sixth sense when it comes to him. Why should it be any different now?

Her fingers card through his hair and tug gently on the soft strands as she tips back her head and arches her body into him, gasping into the dark, empty kitchen. Even when he kisses his way back up to her lips, he remains trapped in the trance she put him under, taking every part of her for himself. It takes her crying out in bliss at the combined sensations of his fingers on her clit and the smooth, wet drag of his cock inside of her for him to meet her gaze again. This time, he doesn't dare look away. Neither does she.

Their eye contact never wavers as she murmurs, face twisted in pleasure, "Fuck, I think—"

Her sentence can't even be finished before she's coming undone from the next caress of his fingers against her.

The arms wrapped around the back of his neck pull him in as her body tenses up with the onset of her climax. Not only does he watch and listen as the euphoria washes over her, he feels it. He can feel her spasming around him, clenching and unclenching, through every powerful wave.

Her jaw has fallen open in a gape that allows every beautiful moan, gasp, and whine to escape into the space between their lips. And it's the sensation of her coming around him that threatens to send him over the edge, but he holds out for as long as he can. Both for the sake of helping her ride it out and prolonging his own orgasm.

He pulls out quickly out of fear of finishing inside and withdraws the fingers that were rubbing her clit to wrap them around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times until he comes with a breathy moan. Watching it drip down her trembling stomach heightens the swift pulses of pleasure, and when his body jerks involuntarily from how good it feels, the next rope of cum lands across the hickeys on her inner thighs. It's downright filthy, but he'll be damned if it isn't the most erotic thing he's ever seen in real life.

For a second, time is suspended to allow them both the chance to catch their breath and enjoy the comfort of each other's embrace. Her arms are still linked around him, trapping him in, and he lets his face fall forward onto her shoulder with a tired sigh. It's impossible for either of them to find words in the midst of their post-orgasmic bliss, so they don't bother trying. Much like how it has been for their lives preceding this moment, the silence is comfortable. There is no misunderstanding, awkwardness, or trying to fill the space with meaningless small talk.

Once the rapid rise and fall of their chests have evened out, Conrad pulls away from his cherished spot in the crook of her neck and kisses her one last time before coming back down to earth.

He's already pulling his pants back up before moving to get a few paper towels from the kitchen counter, telling her, "Stay there, I got it."

The sound of the tap turning on reaches her ears, then vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and it isn't long before Conrad is back in front of her. Every swipe of the damp wad of paper towel is gentle on his skin, carefully minding where she's particularly sensitive in the aftermath of what they did. As he wipes his release up from her stomach and thighs, he folds the towel in half to clean her again, then, once he's finished, he leans down with one hand cupped underneath her thigh and presses a kiss to one of the marks he left behind.

Her face burns hot at this, but she tries not to let it rattle her brave face.

"You're lucky I like you so much," she says, tilting her head to show him her neck, "cause this is gonna be impossible to hide."

He can't even stop the smirk from crossing his face at the sight of her freshly bruised skin. Yet, he doesn't answer right away. He simply continues to smile to himself and walks around the island she's perched on, digging in the freezer for something for the next moment or so. When he returns, he's holding up a bag of frozen peas as though it is a coveted trophy.

"This will help," he says and gently presses the cold bag over the spot on her neck. "Thank you, by the way."

She blinks at him.

"For what?"

His shoulders pull up in a shrug as he tries to find the right way to word it without it sounding like he's only talking about the sex.

"For everything." He says softly, rubbing the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't know what you mean to me."

The room has been plunged into silence since they stopped moaning, panting, and joining their bodies together. All that can be heard over their voices is the music next door, as well as loud voices speaking in the back and front yard. In here, though, it's just them, and he can hear how her breath hitches in her throat at what he said.

"It was confusing last summer, but ever since you underlined that part in the book you gave me, I've known. At least to some extent," she admits. "I knew you did that for me."

He nods.

"I did."

There's a long pause, then—

She breaks her gaze with him and looks down at the floor, smiling like an idiot at the thought of what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours. Seeing her clothes in a pile on the floor prompts her to take the frozen peas from him and jump down from her seat on the counter.

As explanation, she says, holding the bag to her neck, "We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."

He casts a quick glance to the counter where they fucked for a second before looking at her again.

"And probably clean that."

A giggle escapes her when he says this.

"Yeah, we definitely should."

Hello! Finally wrote a Conrad fic! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to a tag list for future Conrad fics, let me know as well. Thank you.

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp s2 #fanfiction #barely proofread this lmao

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amourquinn · 27 days ago

Text

( drabble ) pink + white

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 700+

genre : pure fluff no warnings :)

summary : quinn and you go ice skating on a chilly winter night

the rink was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of overheard lights that reflected off the smooth ice like a frozen lake under the moon. you tugged your scarf tighter around your neck, your breath clouding the air as you stepped out onto the ice.

quinn skated ahead of you, effortlessly gliding backwards with that signature grace he carried so naturally. he gave you a lopsided grin, his cheeks already pink from the cold. “c’mon, you can’t just stand there. you said you wanted to skate.”

“i am skating!” you called back, taking a few tentative strides.

quinn let out a laugh, circling back toward you. “that’s not skating; that’s shuffling. here—” he reached for your hands, pulling you gently toward him.

“i’m trying!” you protested, but you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. you stumbled slightly, and his hands tightened around yours, steadying you.

“you’ve got this,” he said softly, his tone reassuring. “just relax. trust your feet—and trust me.”

you took a deep breath, letting him guide you. with quinn holding your hands, it was easier to find a rhythm. the chill of the ice melted away under the warmth of his presence, his encouragement making you feel braver than you’d expected.

“see? you’re a natural!” he teased after a few laps around the rink.

“yeah, sure.” you said, rolling your eyes. “i’m practically olympic material.”

quinn smirked, releasing one of your hands and twirling you unexpectedly. you yelped, your balance wobbling, but he caught you easily, pulling you close. “you’re better than you think.” he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours.

the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. the world around you seemed to blur, the only thing in focus was him— his easy smile, the warmth in his gaze, and the way his hands felt so solid and steady on yours.

“i think you just like showing off.” you teased, trying to shake off how flustered you felt.

“maybe,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “but it’s not showing off if i’m trying to impress you.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, your cheeks growing even warmer. “okay, mr. nhl superstar, show me what you’ve got.”

he grinned, letting go of you entirely and skating backward across the ice. it was mesmerizing to watch him in his element. he moved effortlessly, the blades of his skates carving precise lines as he spun and weaved across the rink. he finished with a dramatic stop, sending a spray of ice into the air.

you clapped, genuinely impressed. “okay, that was actually pretty cool.”

“your turn.” he said, skating back toward you.

“oh, no, absolutely not.”

“come on, i’ll teach you.” quinn reached for your hands again, his expression so earnest that you couldn’t say no.

with his help, you attempted a spin. it wasn’t nearly as graceful as his, but when you managed to stay upright, you threw your hands in the air in victory. “did you see that!?”

“i did! you’re amazing.” he said, laughing.

you couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not, but you didn’t care. the joy in his voice and the way he was looking at you made you feel like you really had done something incredible.

as the night went on, you grew more confident, and quinn seemed content to let you set the pace. occasionally, he’d skate ahead, turning to check on you with a grin, but he was always right there to catch you if you stumbled.

eventually, you both ended up at the center of the rink, the cold air biting at your cheeks as you leaned against him to catch your breath. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

“thanks for coming out here with me.” he said quietly.

“are you kidding? this was amazing!” you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

quinn tilted his head to press a kiss to your temple. “it’s even better because it’s with you.”

you smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “cheesy.” you teased, but you couldn’t hide how much it meant to you.

“maybe,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “but it’s true.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence filled only by the faint sound of your breaths and the occasional scrape of blades against the ice in the distance. the world felt still, like this little moment was frozen in time just for the two of you.

“okay,” you said eventually, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “one more lap before we call it a night?”

quinn grinned. “deal. but this time, no holding hands. let’s see what you’ve got.”

“quinn!”

your laughter echoed across the rink as he took off, and you chased after him, your heart full and light in a way only he could make it.

#[ 📁 ] drabble #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #fanfic #nhl hockey #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fic

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batsythoughts · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request a plantonic yandere batfamily x innocent female reader.

Summary: Reader is a professional figure skater. The batfamily goes to the skating rink to see one of to see skaters practice skating,that's until they first meet you. Ever since then they started to go to the rink to watch you skate,soon you are getting stalked home every night and then kidnapped.

I am so sorry that it took so long to get to your request, it was a very emotional month. But I did not forget about it. I am trying a mix of the bullet point writing I do on here and the traditional style of writing for when it's dialog heavy.

So without further ado, Yandere! Batfam with Professional Figure Skating Reader!

It had only happened because Cass had won a bet after making the most busts in a week while on patrol, so she got to choose a family activity they would all have to do

She had picked that they go to the ice rink because there was a performance from a national group that was going to be in Gotham for a couple of months that she had seen online

Bruce had even paid to have the rink to the family so they could even try skating themselves before having to go on patrol

Bruce had gotten seats that were within the first few rows so they could get a terrific view without having the glare of the glass messing with the experience

They had gotten there an hour before the show so everyone, including Alfred, could get the seat that they prefered

Dick and Alfred seemed to be the most interested along with Cass while the others patiently wait for the whole ordeal to be over with

When the lights went down and the show finally began, everyone focused on the ice as the performers came to the ice

They all watched in awe as the music played overhead while the skaters meticulously moved across the ice

Bruce occasionally glanced over at Cass to see her grinning as her eyes followed every moment she could

At the part of the show when there was a ballad, two of the performers went to the center while the rest went to the edges

Bruce had felt Cass place a hand on his arm while leaning forward to the edge of her seat

He had fully expected her to be looking at the duo at the center as they did their act

Instead, he watched as she nudge Damian while pointing at the skater that was resting in front of their section

He noticed them both focus solely on her while she and the others did small circles around before stopping in their original spots

He glanced between his children and the performer as he took in the fact his kids were in two separate states of awe

Bruce himself even felt his brow furrow as he watched the girl shift expressions and blink while trying to hold back a smile

He looked over at the others in his group as he made eye contact with most of the boys who were seeing the same thing as him

When the ballad ended, Bruce noticed that Damian and Cass were focusing on the one skater instead of the main performance

Dick and Jason both shared a look before individually making eye contact with Bruce to silently ask what was going on

They only got a shake of the head before turning back to the show

They all applauded when it had finally come to an end and they watched the skaters leave the rink and audience filed out

Bruce and Alfred quickly guided everyone back out to the car to grab their jackets and skates that they had gotten earlier that day

They all made their way back into the empty building as the performers all were walking out after getting out of the costumes they had

Everyone notice Cass and Damian searching the faces to be disappointed when they didn't see the skater from earlier

When they got back into the arena, all eyes went to a lone figure on the ice doing a small routine

As they all got closer, they saw the girl with headphones on while doing a small spinning leap and landing before gliding backwards on one foot with a large smile

Cass let out a gasp as the skater went into a pirouette for a few moments before coming to a full stop while striking a pose

Each of them clapped as they saw her turn towards them

You pulled down the headphones while trying to catch your breath. Gliding over to them and opening the gate and carefully stepping out of the rink.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't think anyone would still be here after the show." A nervous laugh bubbles out of your throat while looking over at each of them.

Most of them were about cut in that nothing was wrong with what you were doing. Damian spoke up before any of the others could open their mouths. "That wasn't in the performance. What were you doing it for?"

Cass lightly pushed him while Jason gave a disappointed groan. But you simply gave a small chuckle while flashing the young boy a smile. "I do that after every performance. It helps me get out the leftover nervous energy."

Dick put a hand on Damian's shoulder while playfully shaking him. "Damian's just straightforward, but he did enjoy the show! Cass was absolutely enamored watching you skate across the ice. She was practically bouncing in her seat through the whole thing!"

You smiled at them all before taking notice of the skates in each of their hands. "Do you all normally skate? I don't remember seeing any of you at all from when I was younger."

Bruce gave small shake of his head while looking at you with a polite grin. "No, we were just doing this for some family time."

A small nod of understanding comes from you while looking at them all again. "I get that. Do you all want some help getting the skates on? I don't mind helping if you all want it."

Cass gave a nod before anyone could politely refuse for you to leave and go rest. They all just quietly watched as you kneeled down to begin tying Cass' skates before moving around to help the others. Damian didn't even complain as he watched you take off his shoes with a practiced grace before tying his skates.

After getting everyone in their skates, you helped get them onto the ice. The grin still on your face with a small clap of your hands. "Alrighty, now onto the fun part! Who wants to get on the ice first?"

Cass and Dick were the first one to get on the ice with you before the other boys followed a couple minutes after with Bruce and Alfred joining in last

Everyone paid attention to each move you made with them, each small trick you helped Cass learn, always grinning at them all the way through

When it was finally time for the family to leave to get ready for their nightly routine, Bruce made sure that you safely made it to your car while everyone waved goodbye

The car ride back was mostly quiet with the occasional comment from Cass and Damian on things that they enjoyed with the show

The night was went by without any major incidents as the family went through the motions until they got back to the manor

The morning was uneventful until Dick went through a few random boxes and found a few old year books

He brought them out for the others to look at in hopes of a couple laughs

It was all going well until Tim flipped to a random page in Dick's senior yearbook

He stared for a second before recognizing the skater from the night before on the page with all the sophomore photos

All the kids took turns looking over the photo before beginning to look for other photos of you

Tim even went searching on social media sites to find out more personal information with Cass and Damian both looking at his phone

Bruce and Alfred watched from the door way as they all searched for information without argument

Bruce took a deep breath as his eyebrows furrowed while he began having a few thoughts that started to concern him

Alfred glanced at Bruce before placing a hand on his shoulder and saying he would get started on any preparations that needed to be made

Bruce was about to tell Alfred not to do anything, but stopped when he realized that this was one of the first times all the kids were fully getting along with one another with a shared interest

From that day forward, everyone had begun getting as much information they could on you to prepare a space specifically to your liking

Every night, two of them made sure that you got home after the nights performance before going on with their regular patrol routes

As the months went by and the living space for you got the finishing touches, Bruce was trying to mentally prepare everyone for what reactions you might have when you got brought there

Dick and Jason had even thought of bringing up the idea of setting up a small ice rink in the cave for you as a way to help with coping due to the sudden change

It was finally the last day of the show and Bruce had gotten tickets for the family to see you preform on the ice again

They sat in the same seats as before as they made sure to watch every part of your routine with smiles on their faces

At the end of the show, they all waited for you to come out to the ice to do your after performance

When you finally got out, they all applauded with a few cheers as well as they took in your surprised expression

A startled laugh escaped your throat as you looked over at all of them. "Wow! I wasn't expecting anyone to look for me here! Everyone was out in the lobby to do the whole curtain call."

Dick placed a comforting hand on Cass's shoulder before flashing a charming smile. "Well, we wanted to give a personal congratulations here for you. And Cass here wanted to give you this bouquet."

Cass took a hesitant step forward before holding out the flowers for you. You took the flowers with a soft coo before look back at her, "These are beautiful! Thank you so much sweetheart." Reaching out, you pull Cass into a small hug.

She eagerly returned the hug before pulling away to look back at her family. "We wanted to get you something to show that you did amazing. Damian helped pick them out with colors that we thought you would like."

You looked over at Damian with a large smile as you adjusted the bouquet. "Well, I absolutely love them! Thank you all so much for coming to watch the show again."

Bruce gave a curt nod as he placed a hand on Jason and Tim to appear show you the care he could show if needed. "We enjoyed it immensely. And we also wanted you to know that if you need it, you have a place to stay with us anytime no matter what."

"Thank you for the offer. I appreciate it, but I have my own apartment," you polite explained while adjusting the light jacket you were wearing. "I am going to be in Gotham for a couple months until I audition for the next show. So we can hang out every now and then if you all want. Sound good?"

Bruce smirked as he gently patted both boys shoulders. "Sounds wonderful. We have to get going now, but we will be seeing you again very soon."

They all said a small goodbye before leaving for the manor to begin the last preparations

Bruce went over the plan again with everyone to insure that everything would go as smoothly as possible

Dick and Tim were in charge of leading you to the agreed upon location due to them being the most personable

Jason was supposed to wait for them all at the waiting point before injecting you with a sleeping agent

Cass and Damian would be helping Bruce to make sure there were no witnesses for the ordeal and made a quick get away

Everyone watched as Jason grabbed the vial with the drug before inserting the syringe

Tim was the closest to him to double check that Jason didn't use too little so you didn't wake up too soon or too much to avoid complications

When the time came, Dick and Tim were waiting for you to come out of the building to get the main plan into motion

Dick had put a nail in one of the cars' tires to make the impression that it was naturally run over and caused a flat and take care of a few things in the trunk

The moment you walked out of the building, both men stood at attention as you went over to the lone car in the parking lot with the bouquet tucked in your arms

You had fumbled to get your keys out of the pocket of your jacket until you stopped and looked at your tire

Dick and Tim shared a nod before walking over as you kneeled down to inspect the damage

"Dang it. This doesn't look good," you mumbled while feeling around the tire. Groaning when your finger grazed the head of the nail that was sticking out. Completely unaware of the presence of the people coming up behind you. "This isn't a great way to end the day."

Dick smiled as he watched you quietly worry over the tire. Waiting a moment to take it in until he gently knocked on the side of the car. "Everything alright over here?"

You startled off balance at the sudden voice behind you. Taking a moment to catch your breath while looking at the two vigilantes standing beside your car. "Oh, uh... yeah. I just have a flat. Just need to put my spare on and then get going."

Tim tilted his head while offering his hand to help you up. "That's a shame indeed. We can help change it for you." Tim lifted you up before wiping off your jacket and resettling the flowers. "It would be dishonorable of us if we left you to do it yourself."

Dick nodded in agreement while kneeling down and pretending to inspect the damage. You looked between the two, completely oblivious of what they were doing. "I couldn't have you do that for me. I have the stuff in my trunk and can do it myself. You both have more important things to do than replacing a tire."

Dick stood up while shaking his head and walking around to the trunk. Opening it up with a wide grin as he spoke reassuringly, "It is not a bit of trouble. We want to help you out as a fellow citizen. Now, where is your jack and tire iron?"

A confused look crossed your face at the question. You quickly went over to look in the trunk before giving a small whine. "Dang it. I know I put them back the last time I used them. Something must have happened since then."

Dick placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as he pulled you closer. "Hey, it's alright. You can call to get a tow truck here in the morning to take it to get the tire fixed. But right now, we can walk you home to make sure you get there."

"I couldn't ask you to do that. My apartment is only 20ish minutes away. I can walk there myself," you tell them with a shrug. Double checking that the car is locked and taking anything that couldn't be left in there overnight.

Dick shook his head while putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked beside you. Tim coming to stand on the other side as he offered taking all the things you took out of the car.

"That is not happening. This city is too dangerous for a lady like you to walk at night alone," Tim cut in before you could say anything else in the matter.

Dick gestured at Tim in agreement as he gave a gentle pat to your shoulder. "He is absolutely right. We would never live with ourselves if we found out that something happened to you while we did nothing. You just tell us were the building is and we will get you there."

The next few minutes were filled with light banter between the three of you. After getting past a corner, a flash of lightning appeared overhead as thunder sounded in the distance.

Dick tightened his grip while looking up at the sky with a small grin. Nodding at the alleyway as he spoke in a calming tone, "We should take a short cut. Don't want you getting a cold from getting rained on."

He began walking down the alley without waiting for a response. Tim walked a few paces ahead and looked around for any signs of life. Nodding when he saw no unwanted onlookers. "You have nothing to worry about anything bad happening to you. We all promise to keep you safe."

A soft laugh sounded from you as you nodded until you slowly stopped. A confused expression coming over you as you looked at the two of them. "What do you mean 'all'?"

Jason moved from the corner he was hidden in and covered your mouth with his hand. Efficiently inserting the needle tip into you neck and injecting the drug into your system. "It's okay. Just relax and everything will be over."

You struggled as the two held you in place to avoid you harming yourself. Their grip was firm even after you began going limp until they were certain you were knocked out. Jason removed his hand and carefully pulled the needle out. "There we go. It's going to be alright. We're going to get you home."

Tim contacted the others immediately after Jason had injected the drug into your system

Bruce pulled the Batmoblie into the alley and got out to open the trunk

Dick and Jason gently maneuvered you into the trunk on the blankets they put into to cushion you while adjusting your head to rest on a pillow

After securing the trunk, Bruce gave a small nod to the boys while getting back into the vehicle and driving back to the manor

He sent a message to Alfred to be ready for them so Bruce could get back to patrol and not raise suspicious if any of the public noticed

Alfred was there waiting when Bruce pulled in and stopped the car

He opened the trunk and lifted you out to begin taking you to your room and placing you on the bed

He removed your jacket and shoes, placed them in their right spots, pulled the covers over you, and placed a kiss to your forehead before leaving the room

This posted by accident so it wasn't as done as I wanted it to be. But I don't want to take it away from you all since I haven't posted in a minute. So I can make a part two if you all want. And I'm fully back now so I should be posting more often than I have.

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thesecondhandwoman · 1 month ago

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HOVERBOARD PRACTICE

Ekko x f!reader

Synopsis: Another day, another morning with Ekko. Today you were practicing riding a hoverboard, a ride that both Ekko and the other fireflies use. However, practice comes with failure, especially when it came to you, and Ekko was there for you every step of the way.

The faint hum of Zaun’s flickering neon lights was drowned out by the steady whir of hoverboards cutting through the air. Ekko stood ahead of you, one foot firmly planted on his own board, the other dangling off lazily, his balance impeccable as always. His lopsided grin reflected both confidence and amusement.

“You’re overthinking it,” he called out, spinning in a lazy circle to face you. “It’s all about flow, y’know? Let the board do the work.”

You groaned, planting your foot back on the ground for stability as the board beneath you wobbled. “Easy for you to say, Mr. Gravity-Doesn’t-Apply-To-Me.”

He laughed—a sound that was warm, teasing, and annoyingly attractive. “Alright, alright, keep your balance steady, then push off. Use your core.” Ekko gestured toward you with a sweeping motion. “And for the love of everything, stop looking down.”

You rolled your eyes, but obeyed. Lifting your gaze to meet his, you swallowed your nerves and tried again. With a deep breath, you nudged the board forward. This time, you moved a few feet before wobbling uncontrollably.

“Whoa, whoa—” Ekko’s voice barely reached you before you veered sideways.

The hoverboard jerked, and you let out a yelp as you careened toward a nearby tree. You braced for impact when—just before disaster struck—a strong hand grabbed your arm, yanking you to a stop.

Ekko’s face was inches from yours, his chest heaving from the effort. His chuckles rumbled against your arm where his grip lingered. “You okay there, rookie?”

You glared, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed your composure. “Barely.”

He smirked, letting go of your arm but not stepping back. “Guess I gotta keep you outta trouble, huh?” He climbed back onto his board and rolled around you in slow, playful circles.

“I think I’ve had enough for today,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“Nope,” he said, stopping right in front of you. His grin widened as he flicked a strand of your hair out of your face. “Not until you’ve learned to not almost die. Besides, I’m having too much fun watching you flail.”

You smacked his arm lightly, earning another laugh.

“Alright, alright. We’ll take it slow.” Ekko nudged your board gently with his foot, guiding you back onto it. Then he jumped on his own and slid in beside you, hands hovering close in case you stumbled again. “Just keep your eyes forward. Trust your instincts. And hey,” he added, his voice softer now, “if you fall again, I’ll catch you.”

With a huff, you pushed off the ground, this time with Ekko right at your side. His presence, steady and sure, made the task seem a little less impossible. As the board hummed beneath you and the wind began to whip past your face, you couldn’t help but laugh at the thrill of it all.

Ekko’s own laugh joined yours. “There you go! I told you you’d get it.”

You smiled, the fear giving way to excitement. “Still not sure I trust you,” you teased.

He shot you a playful look. “Good. Keeps things interesting.”

After a bit, you were finally starting to get the hang of it, though the occasional wobble made Ekko reach out instinctively to steady you. His hands brushed against yours once or twice, and you felt your stomach flutter each time, though you played it off with a smirk or a sarcastic comment. He didn’t seem to mind—if anything, he thrived off your banter.

“Alright, let’s see if you can handle a turn,” he said, his board gliding effortlessly ahead of you. He slowed just enough to match your speed, skating backwards like it was nothing.

“A turn? I just learned how to go straight!” you protested, your voice rising in mock indignation.

Ekko only shrugged, his grin infuriatingly smug. “Guess there’s only one way to find out if you’ve got what it takes.” He darted to the side, smoothly curving around a piece of scrap metal embedded in the ground.

You gulped, eyeing the path he’d taken. “Easy for you to say when you’ve been doing this for years,” you muttered.

“Hey,” he called over his shoulder, “the Firelights don’t wait for anyone. If you’re gonna roll with us, you gotta be able to keep up. No pressure or anything.” His tone was teasing, but there was an undeniable challenge in his words.

You grit your teeth.

No way were you going to let him think you couldn’t handle it.

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

You tilted the board slightly, leaning into the motion like he’d shown you. The board shifted beneath you, and for a terrifying second, it felt like you were going to fall—but then you found your balance, cutting a clumsy arc around the scrap metal. When you emerged on the other side, your heart was pounding, but you were still upright.

“Ha! Look at that!” Ekko whooped, his smile wide with pride. “Told you you had it in you!”

You slowed to a stop, panting slightly as you grinned back at him. “Not bad for a rookie, huh?”

“Not bad at all.” He skated up beside you, reaching out to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But don’t let it go to your head. You’ve still got a long way to go before you can keep up with me.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” you shot back, your competitive streak flaring to life.

Ekko raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “You bet it is. First one to the water tower wins.” Without waiting for your response, he pushed off, his board shooting forward like a bolt of lightning.

“Hey, no fair!” you yelled, scrambling to get moving again.

The chase was on, and though Ekko had a head start, you threw everything you had into catching up. The wind whipped through your hair, and for the first time, you felt like you were flying. You stumbled once or twice, but you managed to stay on your board, fueled by determination—and maybe just a little bit of your desire to wipe that smug grin off Ekko’s face.

He reached the water tower first, of course, lounging on his board as he waited for you. “Took you long enough,” he teased when you finally rolled up beside him, breathless but grinning.

“You cheated,” you accused, though you couldn’t keep the laughter out of your voice.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a wink. “But you still did good, especially since that was probably the only way I would make you actually try without being clumsy. Heck, you did better than good, actually.”

His praise made your cheeks warm, but you tried to play it cool. “Guess I had a pretty decent teacher.”

“Decent?” Ekko repeated, pretending to be offended. “I’m the best in Zaun. You’re lucky to have me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Whatever you say, hotshot.”

As you both rested against the base of the water tower, the city stretching out beneath you, Ekko nudged your arm gently. “For real, though. You did great today. You’re a natural.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you turned to meet his gaze. His golden eyes sparkled with pride and something else—something softer that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks, Ekko,” you said quietly, feeling your usual bravado fade under his steady gaze.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Anytime.”

#ekko x you #ekko x reader #ekko fanfic #ekko arcane #ekko #arcane #arcane fanfic #fluffy fanfic #fanfic #fanfic writing

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flseur · 1 year ago

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꒰ 𐙚 holiday sex — jjk men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : winter dates that jjk men would take you on, and what happens after them !

⟡ characters : satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, size kink, standing doggy, overstimulation, soft to rough sex, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, praising, squirting

౨ৎ note : this started off as a genshin fic but i turned into a jjk one bc i haven’t posted anything for it in a bit

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

❥₊ ⊹ with his apartment being right near a canal, during the winter time it was bound to be frozen over. and one of satoru’s favourite things to do, ever since he was a child, was ice skating.

so when the months got colder, and the ice was thick enough to skate on, he was excited to have you celebrate that tradition with him. he made you sit on a bench while he tied your skates and made sure that your jacket was tightly done up before taking you by the hand, leading you on the ice.

his nose and cheeks were flushed red due to the cold weather the two of you were once outside in, but also because of the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his cock.

he had you bent over the granite top of his kitchen counter, the idea of the hot chocolates you once craved long forgotten with how satoru was bullying your velveteen walls.

your slick messily coated his length, dripping down his balls as he pulled soft mewls from your throat. the thrusts of his cock were delicious paired with the feeling of his large hands grabbing at the soft skin of your hips, pulling them back to meet his thrusts halfway.

"a-ah! satoru! s'big..." your words slur, your mind was too focused on the searing pleasure your boyfriend was giving you instead of forming a full sentence.

satoru curses at the sounds of your moans, your sobs only spurring him on more. he watches the fat of your ass move each time his thick cock grinds into your pussy. his pace was unrelenting and his thrusts were calculated, each one hitting that gooey spot inside of you.

you were so perfect. pretty face with crystalline tears running down the apples of your cheeks, back sinfully arched, clothes discarded, and your cunt that satoru swore was made just for him was milking him dry.

"so perfect, baby..." he groans, "you're so fucking perfect." then one of the hands that was on your hip slithered to where the two of you were connected. his lithe fingers feathered above your clit, teasing you lightly.

"don't tease..." you sigh. your breath hitches then fades into a moan when you feel his digits begin to rub circles on the bundle of nerves.

it was all too much. satoru was too much. the feeling of his cock dragging through your walls, him playing with your clit, and his moans. he invaded your every sense and you swore you could feel him everywhere all at once.

"ohmygod... g'nna cum, fuck!" you cry out, body spasming and pussy convulsing as white, hot pleasure shoots across your abdomen. your legs were about to give out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure but satoru's strong grip on your hips is tight and his cock is still pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt.

"give me one more, baby... one more..."

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

❥₊ ⊹ what started off as kento travelling overseas to new york for a business trip, turned more into a vacation with you accompanying him on it.

he at first was very adamant about focusing on doing the paperwork for his up and coming meeting for the company’s clientele. but when it comes to you, his workaholic demeanour faltered fairly quickly.

he let you drag him down the snowy-covered concrete paths of new york to look at the different stores, hand in hand. you stopped at different shops and bought a few gifts for friends for the holiday season, then you pulled him over to some little cafe in an old brownstone building to grab warm apple ciders, hoping it would satiate your sweet tooth.

and as the sun sets, casting the beautiful city in an orange haze, the two of you decide to make your way back to the hotel you were staying at. as the two of you unlock the door to your room, you can't help but give your husband a sweet smile. and kento can't help but kiss it off of your face.

those sweet kisses turned into something more. winter coats discarded and your clothes soon following after them, as you've now found yourself underneath kento, moaning and swallowing back loud sobs as his cock stretched out your little hole.

kento peppered open-mouth kisses on your neck as he shallowly thrusts inside your pussy. "fuck… sweetheart... stop squeezing so tight..." he groans.

"you feel s'good, kento..." you moan, fingers lacing themselves through his blonde hair, tugging at the roots.

his thrusts sped up, fucking into you at a rougher pace and you cry out.

he pulls away from your neck to look at you, god you were so beautiful. kento brings one of his large hands down to your abdomen and presses down on it, watching your eyes roll back into your head. the strained moans he was pulling from your throat were heaven-sent.

your pussy pulsed around his cock, dragging him further in. kento's head lolled back as he felt you squeeze him tight again. the hand that was once on your abdomen creeps down and rubs fast circles on your puffy clit.

he couldn't hold back his moans as he continued to fuck you senseless. you felt so good but hell, he looked so fucking hot right now, you could cum just at the sight of him.

his usual stoic facial expression was completely gone and replaced with one overwhelmed with pleasure. his skin was flushed pink all over, hair messily pushed out of his face and his abs, covered in a sheen of sweat, contracted with every rut into your messy pussy.

your orgasm washed over you with little to no warning, you grabbed at kento's broad shoulders as you shook from the intensity of it, nails digging into the skin and he groans.

"o-oh fuck! kento!" you cried out. "cum inside! please cum inside!" you were begging him to fill you up, to make you mess. and that was all he needed to hear to have him spiral into his own orgasm. kento's thrusts became irregular as his hips stuttered, eventually stilling inside of you.

"shit..." he cursed as he came, his cock twitching inside of your dripping cunt. "you're so messy..." he chuckled, pulling out watching his cum dripping out of your hole.

"says you..." you mumble, hiding a smile, "you look like shit for a serious businessman."

"haha." kento gives a sarcastic laugh then lays down on your chest, pressing kisses to your jawline.

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

❥₊ ⊹ as winter comes each year, the weather gets colder which meant that it was finally the perfect time to stay inside. so when you looked outside of your apartment and seen it snowing, you decided that it was the perfect time for you and your boyfriend, suguru, to do some holiday festivities.

"oh wow!" you gasp, looking at his gingerbread house. “a-are the windows supposed to look like they’ve been broken into?”

suguru snorts at your question, “they’re supposed to be curtains. and this,” he points at two blobs of icing that you were assuming to be snow piles, “is us. see?”

“really?” you ask, trying your hardest not to laugh. his effort at trying to make this cute made your heart swell, but he wasn’t exactly the best at executing it.

“no, i’m just fucking with you,” he laughs. “i forgot to put the metal thing on the icing bag so it just spilled out there.”

“you mean the piping tip?”

“yeah, that thing.” he smiles.

you giggle at him then yawn lightly. “do you want to go watch that christmas movie now?” you ask.

suguru nods his head, you could tell that he was getting a bit bored with decorating the gingerbread houses. so, the two of you quickly cleaned up then head to the couch.

though soon enough, you weren't paying much attention to the movie. suguru had peeled your clothes off of you, leaving searing kisses in his wake, completely distracting you from the film. as he reached lower and lower, you felt your breath hitch when he was face to face with your cunt.

"need me this badly, baby?" he teases, bringing up a teasing finger to your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of it.

and who were you to ignore him? you did need him, especially when he was looking up at you behind those long black eyelashes, and his pink lips so close to where you wanted him most.

"y-yes..." you stutter, "please.."

suguru smirks then leans in and licks a stripe from your hole to your clit. his lips wrap around your bundle of nerves as one of his digits pushes into your pussy, thrusting in and out.

you choke back a sob when he adds a second, then a third finger into your aching cunt, hips grinding down onto his face. he hums against your clit, pulling back to watch you.

your face was contorted in pleasure, one hand grabbing at the cushion of the couch while the other grabbed at your own breast, pinching and tweaking your pert nipple. you were making it harder and harder for suguru to ignore the ache of his cock, begging to be freed from the confines of his boxers.

he brings his mouth back to your pussy, flattening his tongue and then swirling your clit around with it as his fingers continue to pump inside you at an unapologetic pace.

"just like that! mph!" you cry out, arching your back. you were so dizzy, the feeling of suguru's tongue in between your folds was driving you crazy.

the taste of your arousal was intoxicating to him, he wanted you to cum so badly. but he wanted you to cum, everywhere.

as your moans become higher pitched, suguru knew you were going to come soon. he angled his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes rolled backwards as you orgasmed with a strangled cry.

"i-i'm cumming! oh! fuck!" you hiccup, hips spasming against suguru's face as you squirt. your arousal coats his hand, upper arm, lower half of his face and suguru drank it all in.

"that's it, princess... make a mess on my face." he mumbles, fingers still pistoning inside your pussy. you felt yourself being hurrled into your second orgasm and it was coming quickly.

"suguru! can't! is t'much! oh my fucking god!" you sob, gasping as you cum for a second time. white flashes blurred your vision as your head spun, hips sputtering and your pussy clenched around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm.

"good girl." suguru praises you, finally removing his soaked digits from your sopping pussy. he presses a kiss to your clit before coming up to kiss your temple. "you did so good for me, baby.”

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paceprompting · 1 month ago

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give me your hands

written for ‘winter sports’ wc: 961 # | steddie | rated: g | cw: no warnings apply | tags: pre-relationship, fluff, teasing, eddie teaching steve to skate, slice of life

@steddieholidaydrabbles

“Jesus, Harrington, you’re a mess.”

Eddie skated to a smooth stop in front of Steve in the most awkwardly contorted position he’d ever seen someone who was a star athlete the rest of year. His knees bowed inward, arms held out straight to his sides as he wobbled on the thin blades of his rented skates.

Steve shot him a blistering look through the hair hanging over his face. “I’m on ice. What do you want from me?”

Eddie waited until Steve had slowly lifted his torso to stand sort of straight, letting out a slow exhale when he didn’t immediately fall right over.

The kids had heard that the lake in the northernmost part of Hawkins had completely frozen over. And with most parents still working during their winter breaks, it was up to Eddie and Steve to taxi the entire group out for a day of skating, snowball fights and hot chocolate.

The Hawkins skate rink had taken the opportunity to pack up their skates and rent them out beside the lake—as well as poor dude in a red puffy jacket serving as the medical booth.

“Well, you were captain of the melted version of the stuff. I thought you might be better at this,” Eddie answered, skating a slow circle around Steve and returning in front with a backward skate.

Steve tried a step forward.

His foot slid out sharply, and he shot his arms out to steady himself.

“Fuck. This is so embarrassing.” He let out a slow breath and went back to taking awkward steps on his skates.

The rest of the kids had seemed to make a game out of falling over, racing each along up and down the other side of the lake until one or both at a time toppled over. Until there was any blood, Eddie didn’t think he didn’t need to get involved.

Eddie had his hands in his pockets to avoid the cold—which would actually suck if he ended up falling—and he watched the awakward, baby deer-like way Steve attempted ice skating.

He stayed up for at least ten seconds before his skate betrayed him again.

Eddie tried for reassuring.

“You’re doing fine.”

“My butt’s cold,” Steve mumbled.

That did tend to happen when you toppled over about six times in the middle of a frozen lake. Steve wasn’t decked out in snow pants like Max, and the loose snow and ice had stuck to his jeans.

Eddie had kept pace with Steve while he waddled along, sometimes going backwards and other times having to do a figure-eight to backtrack when Steve near-stumbled and Eddie went past him.

Steve glared at Eddie’s feet. “How are you so damn good at this?”

“Free to skate if you have your own. Over the years, Wayne brought me here to try and warm up. Or tire me out so I wouldn’t knock over the Christmas tree in the trailer.”

Steve let out a laugh through his nose, but it distracted him and he did fall over for the first time since Eddie had joined him. It was onto his knees this time, the sharp pain traveling through to a wince on Steve’s face.

Eddie ducked his head as Steve slowly got back onto his feet. It was disheartening to Eddie to see Steve look down at himself and look so nearly disgusted when Steve had usually managed to find a spot for himself in everything he did.

“Give me your hands.”

Steve had his hands ready when he whipped his head to Eddie. “What?”

“You’re so worried about falling back, that’s all you’re going to do.” Eddie held out his hands, shivering as the slight wind forced cold into them. He forced his fingers to bend and urge Steve to him. “Come on.”

Steve eyed the offer.

Whether it was Eddie standing straight up with no wavering, or a last-ditch effort to try before he could officially give up—Steve slowly slid his freezing hands into Eddie’s.

Eddie squeezed Steve’s fingers, raising his brows in a question.

Steve licked his chapped lips and nodded.

With a gentle pull, Eddie started a slow path backwards. Steve glided without moving his feet, letting Eddie guide him across the ice. Eddie let him for a minute or so, letting Steve feel the balance without worry about hitting the ice.

“Try using your feet now,” he urged softly.

Steve blew out a sharp breath, shaking his head. But he followed direction, and began walking forward, barely lifting his skates from the ice.

Again, Eddie waited until Steve’s shoulders relaxed before giving another instruction.

“Don’t shuffle the blades. Lean a bit forward and push off of your feet when you step.”

Steve furrowed his brow, and if Eddie smiled at the cute wrinkle that form in that space between them that was Eddie’s business because Steve couldn’t see him anyway. He slowly repeated Eddie’s words to himself and tried to compel his feet to do as he said.

“If it pushes to the side a little bit, that’s okay. It’ll propel you forward.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s fingers again for encouragement as he propelled them forward with decently-done steps, rather than Eddie pulling him along. He thought out pulling a move from his uncle, letting go of Steve’s hands without warning to see how he did on his own.

But the second he shifted his hands even a bit, Steve clutched onto him.

“Can’t hold onto me forever,” he teased.

In a surprisingly bold move for someone who had spent half the day flat on the ice, Steve lifted his head and met Eddie’s gaze, sharp and daunting. There was a quirk to the corner of his mouth, the cocky Harrington charm slipping through his nerves.

“You sure about that?”

#juuuust slipping in here #didn't think i'd have an idea for this one honestly #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #cute #fluff #steddie microfic #steddie drabble

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zweigsangel · 2 months ago

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ballerina!reader and chris fluff with strict ballet teacher?

you’re standing in the ballet studio, ankles aching, breath coming in frustrated little huffs as your teacher drills you yet again on the same sequence. she’s pacing back and forth, tapping her stick against the floor with that familiar, grating rhythm.

"you’re not grounded enough," she says, in that disapproving tone that’s somehow both ice-cold and like fire scraping along your nerves. "you’re light in the wrong places and heavy in all the wrong ones."

you roll your eyes, but only when she’s turned around. you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much her words bite. but she catches it anyway, glancing over her shoulder and raising one perfectly drawn eyebrow. “you got something to say?”

you’re about to mutter something half-hearted in return, something safe, when the door to the studio cracks open and chris peeks his head inside. his eyes meet yours, and just like that, a smile creeps across his face. “angel,” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

your cheeks heat instantly, and for a second, you can’t stop the little grin that escapes. you might be exhausted and sore, but the way he says it—like he really thinks you’re his angel, even here, sweaty and frustrated—melts some of that tension right out of you.

your teacher notices the shift immediately, spinning around to see what’s changed. “oh, i see,” she says, gaze sliding over to chris with that pursed-lips look. “so, we’ve got an audience now?”

“wasn’t planning on it, but if you insist.” chris winks, giving her a cheeky grin, and before she can tell him off, he’s slipping further inside, hands shoved casually into his pockets. he’s wearing that damn leather jacket you love, and he still has his skates slung over one shoulder, like he’s always ready to hit the ice if needed. he looks a bit out of place here in your ballet studio with its polished floors and wall of mirrors, but he couldn’t care less.

you can tell she doesn’t love the interruption. but she’s not gonna tell him off either. she sighs, glancing at the clock, and seems to decide she’s had enough of you for the day. “fine,” she says, looking back at you with that critical eye of hers, the one that says i’m letting you off easy. “we’ll continue this next time. get some rest—and stretch, for god’s sake.”

you breathe out, a shaky little exhale of relief, and give her a quick nod. but as soon as she’s gone, chris crosses the room, wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you close.

“god, angel, i swear she’s out for blood.” his fingers trace along your spine, gentle but firm, and you feel that familiar warmth under his touch, the tension seeping right out of your muscles as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“you’re tellin’ me,” you mumble into his shoulder, letting yourself lean into him a bit. “she’s a nightmare.”

he laughs, soft and warm, his thumb rubbing little circles against your lower back. “well, you looked pretty damn good to me. but she’s right about the stretching thing.” he pulls back just a little, eyes meeting yours with that mischievous glint. “c’mon. floor. i’ll help.”

you groan, rolling your eyes, but he’s already guiding you down, practically dragging you to sit with your legs outstretched. he doesn’t care that you’re half-grumbling; he settles right in front of you, scoots up close so he can grab your ankle, and then starts to gently work on loosening you up, pressing just enough to stretch without pain.

“seriously, chris, i’m fine,” you say, a little bashfully. you’d been ready to drop straight to bed, not get a post-rehearsal stretch courtesy of your boyfriend.

he gives you a look, a smirk quirking at the corner of his lips. “don’t argue with me, angel. lemme take care of you.”

and damn it, you can’t argue with him—not when he’s looking at you like that, all soft and adoring, like he couldn’t care less about the sweat in your hair or the fact you’re probably a hot mess right now.

so you let him, because that’s easier than trying to fight back the smile creeping onto your face. his hands work their way down your calf, soothing and gentle, then up again to your thigh, lingering a little longer than necessary.

“this some sort of tactic?” you murmur, eyebrows raised as his thumb presses slow circles against your thigh. “maybe,” he says, that grin back on his face. “figure if i can’t come in here and defend you from the wicked witch herself, i can at least help you feel a little better after she’s done with you.”

you scoff, pretending to be exasperated. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“and yet, here you are,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. his voice drops, softer. “and here i am. looks like you’re stuck with me.”

his forehead rests against yours, and he’s looking at you with so much warmth it’s almost overwhelming. but it’s exactly what you need—what you didn’t even realize you were craving after the hellish day. he’s right here, grounding you in a way no one else could. the ache in your body starts to fade, replaced with this soft warmth that only he seems able to give.

“hey,” he says quietly, still rubbing his hands along your legs, “don’t let her get in your head, alright? she doesn’t see what i see. she’ll never get it. but you’re… you’re somethin’ else, angel.”

you feel the heat rush to your face, like it always does when he talks to you like this. you try to deflect, roll your eyes, make a joke—anything to stop yourself from melting right there on the studio floor. “yeah, yeah. i’m sure you say that to everyone you stretch.”

he laughs, tugging you closer so you’re practically sitting between his legs now, his arms wrapped around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “nah, only my favorite ballerina.” he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “now, let’s get you home.”

he stands up, offering you his hand, and you take it, feeling the warmth and the solidness of him as he pulls you up. even with the sore muscles, the exhaustion, you feel lighter as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as you both head out.

“i don’t care what your teacher says,” he murmurs, squeezing you tight. “you’re perfect to me, angel.”

and in that moment, with his arm around you, his words soft in your ear, you believe him.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolos #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #hockeyplayer!chris #hockey player x reader #ballerina!reader #ballerina reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo fluff #frat boy chris

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avatar-anna · 1 year ago

Text

Just, like, a little crazy

this...is absolutely ridiculous, but i'm here for it. jealous hockey player!harry everyone! based on this tiktok

Hockey Player! Harry Styles x Figure Skater! Y/n

*.*

"What's that face, baby?"

You stepped off the ice with a furrowed brow, approaching your boyfriend once your skates were properly covered. His arms were crossed, a scowl marring heis features as he waited for you to finish your training session. Your students were long gone, as you usually stayed back to skate freely before heading home.

Harry didn't always pick you up, but he had a bye week, which meant he spent every moment he could with you. Date nights, casual evenings on the couch, late mornings in bed, breakfast in bed if Harry managed to untangle his tired limbs from yours. It was safe to say that bye weeks were your favorite weeks. And Harry's, though he'd never admit it around his teammates.

Shrugging, Harry took your hand and pulled you closer to him for a kiss. You were used to greeting kisses, but this was different, deeper, his tongue pushing into your mouth before you had a chance to even process it. Not in the mood to argue, you kissed him back, dropping your duffle bag at your feet so you could grip the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

Harry's hands gripped your ass, pushing you closer to his front, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Baby," you murmured, trying to catch your breath, but your boyfriend was rather insistent for a Tuesday afternoon. "We—We're in public."

"There's no one around us," he replied, nipping at your jaw. "And since when has that stopped you? Remember your grad party? Or the away game in Boston? Or—"

"Okay, okay, big shot." You pulled yourself back from him, holding his chin in place when he tried to go for your neck. "Let's go home anyway. There are security cameras, and I happen to like working here."

With a little resistance from Harry, you eventually left the rink hand in hand. In the car, his hand was on your leg, his thumb tracing along your inner thigh in a way that made it hard to think straight. You tried to keep still, for no other reason than Harry's earlier comment and you were inherently stubborn, and maybe because you knew if you stayed still you might be rewarded for it. It wasn't a long trip home, but you knew he would make it worth it.

"So, who was that on the rink with you?"

When his hand dipped below the waistband of your leggings, you knew you were right. Sighing, you settled deeper into the passenger seat, eyes fluttering shut.

He started off slow as if to warm you up, drawing lazy circles and spreading your wetness around until he eventually slipped one finger inside. Just the one, pumping slowly. He waited until the first stoplight to add another.

"Hm?"

You weren't sure if it was a moan or a response to his question, but you didn't really care. You hadn't really heard him anyway.

"You were skating with someone at the end of practice," Harry said, though his voice was secondary to the sensations provided by his fingers. "I thought you just taught the younger age groups. Not...young adults."

You peeked an eye open, glancing at your boyfriend's profile suspiciously. His eyes were still trained on the road in front of him, hind fingers still pumping leisurely but slowly picking up speed. It's nothing, you thought, or told yourself to think. The only thing you wanted to focus on was finishing before you got home. This was probably some sort of game to see how well you could hold a conversation while his fingers were inside you.

"Winter showcase," you sighed, clenching around Harry's fingers to distract him from his questions. "I'm doing a little performance with the senior coach."

As his fingers pumped a little faster, he asked, "Oh? So you're—Have you been training with this person often?"

Groaning, you shoved Harry's arm away, pinching his skin for good measure. Yelping he pulled his hand back, cursing slightly as you crossed your arms. And your legs.

"Ow! What the hell was that for? You weren't finished!"

"Did you really try to butter me up into an interrogation by fingering me?" you accused. You'd be impressed if you weren't so annoyed. "All because you're...jealous of my coworker?"

"I'm not—"

"He's my colleague, Harry!"

"Oh, so now I'm just Harry? What happened to baby?"

"Baby is reserved for my mentally sound boyfriend who doesn't try to finger me into submission! And I thought you just loved me."

"Come on, don't be like that. I just saw you...and him...and you looked—you looked..."

Your annoyance ebbed, but only a little. Harry's thoughts were irrational, but you also tended to not see reason when he was around other women, so could you really blame him?

That didn't stop you from teasing him, though.

"I was thinking about you, idiot," you said, shoving his shoulder lightly.

There was a considerable amount of acting when it came to figure skating. It wasn't just about executing tricks perfectly, but telling a story through the lines of your arms, the bow of your head, the emotions on your face as you performed. Partner work wasn't something you were used to, but you'd been asked to fill in when a senior coach's partner got injured last minute. It was all strictly professional, because he was a colleague and you were happily involved with someone else, and everyone you worked with at the rink knew that.

You often thought of Harry when you performed. For years, he was the person who drew the most emotion from you. From anguish to love to desperation, he'd made you feel everything over the course of your relationship. It was the easiest way to tap into emotions for a raw and real performance.

"You—You were?"

You rolled your eyes, refusing to answer him as he pulled into the parking spot in front of the apartment you shared. Harry tried to rest his hand on your lap again, but you twisted your body to face the car door in a huff.

"Don't be like that," he said. "You know how I get, I'm sorry. Let's go inside and I'll make it up to you."

Silence was your greatest weapon at the moment. It drove Harry crazy when you didn't talk to him, even moreso when you didn't forgive him right away. You supposed you both knew what made each other tick.

"You're really gonna be like this? When we have a whole week together?" he asked, his lips brushing against the curve of your ear. "What can I do, princess? Tell me."

Excited chills curled down your spine. You tried not to let it get to you, but you could practically feel Harry's grin as he realized he was wearing you down.

"Let's go inside. I wanna finish what we started, and then some."

You wanted to wait, to not give in, but, "Like what?"

"There she is," Harry murmured, kissing your cheek. "I'll let you sit on my face."

"You act like that's a punishment for you," you scoffed.

"Can't blame me for trying," he said with an unapologetic shrug. "Handcuffs?"

All that got him was a raise of your brows.

"Handcuffs on me? No, that's too much work for you," he said, laughing when you swatted at his arm. "Give me a little help, princess. I'm dying to get my hands on you. Dying, princess."

His praise filled you with warmth, just like it always did. You loved to hear him beg, to hear how much he craved your touch, and he loved to see you preen and blush and melt beneath the sweetness of his words.

Unbuckling your seat belt, you opened the passenger door. "Dying, you said?"

Harry nodded, his eyes tracking your every move as he quickly got out of the car, following you up the steps to the apartment. When you got inside, he lifted you up, and your legs went immediately around his waist, but when he tried to kiss you, you pressed a finger to his lips.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

Fighting a grin, you said, "That you were a jealous idiot and that you know I would never make moony eyes at a coworker."

"That's what you want?" he asked.

"That's what I want. And that you're sorry for trying to finger the truth out of me."

Harry sighed. "It sounds crazy when you put it like that."

"It does, doesn't it? It's almost as if it was crazy."

Harry grinned, not even the littlest bit sorry. "What can I say, princess? You make me do some crazy shit."

You only looked at him with raised brows. "My pants stay on until I hear you say it."

"Fine, fine, if my proclamations of undying love aren't enough," he said, shaking his head as he chuckled. He kissed your neck a couple times before you hugged him back by the curls that flopped over his forehead. After a deep exhale, he said, "I was a jealous idiot."

"And?"

Harry narrowed his eyes to green slits at you. "You're enjoying this too much. Fine, I was a jealous idiot and I know you would never make, what did you call it, moony eyes, at a coworker. And I'm sorry for fingering—" he sighed, rubbing an exasperated hand over his face, "for fingering the truth out of you. There. Satisfied?"

You beamed at him. "Very. You may now lead me to the bedroom please and thank you."

He shook his head, but did as you asked, commanded, really, anyway. "You think you run things around here, huh?"

"Think?" you asked, giggling as Harry tossed you onto the bed, following closely behind. "Baby, I know."

You held him close as he peppered your neck and cheek with kisses, laughing a little as he nuzzled you relentlessly. Your clothes and Harry's were quick to come off, both of you eager to finish what was started in the car. At the last second, you paused, a small grin gracing your lips. "So, about those handcuffs?"

Harry's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Nodding, you said, "Gonna make me feel good?"

"The best," he promised, kissing you once before scrambling off the bed.

You got into position, readying yourself for Harry while he rooted through your shared closet for the handcuffs. When he came back, he smiled, the gaze that roved your body nearly as powerful as his touch. When he climbed back onto the bed, he kissed your forehead. "Good girl," he murmured.

You beamed as he clasped the handcuffs around your wrists. God, it was good to be in charge.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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ninibeingdelulu · 7 months ago

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Seeing you wearing his jersey…

ft. meguru bachira, oliver aiku, michael kaiser

Bachira :

A brilliant flush instantly paints Bachira's cheeks crimson when he notices the oversized #8 jersey swamping your slight frame.

Those big, expressive eyes go comically wide, lips parting soundlessly for several moments too stunned to articulate a single word.

Finally, he lets out a strangled gurgling noise that might resemble a muddled "C-c-cute!" Had anyone fluent in the Bachira language been nearby to translate.

The flustered, messy-haired striker wrings his hands together, completely undone in the face of your open appreciation for him. Multiple incoherent blatherings spill out as he angles his face down to try (and fail) to mask his furious blush.

Despite his sputtering, Bachira can't stop sneaking awestruck, smiling peeks at you wearing his kit - utterly endeared by your simple, heartfelt display.

Oliver :

Oliver quite literally has to do a double-take upon first laying eyes on you sporting his infamous #2 jersey. Those kaleidoscopic teal orbs go wide behind stylish red rims.

"Oh? Isn't that a rather unexpected fashion choice, love?" The mischievous striker waggles his eyebrows suggestively as he saunters over.

Already you feel those long, skilled fingers drifting beneath the loose fabric hem - skating up the sensitive skin of your sides as he leans in with a wolfish grin. "Though I certainly can't complain in the slightest...".

Oliver bursts into peals of rich laughter at your squirming protests, tugging you flush against his toned body so he can admire the way his kit looks draped across your curves. "Cheeky minx - I absolutely insist you keep wearing that for me.".

His thumbs trace delicious circles against the small of your back as he nips at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Maybe then I'll behave...".

Michael :

The German emperor's heterochromatic eyes flash with blistering intensity as he surveys you through the lens of his unshakable focus.

Even dressed so haphazardly in his iconic #10 jersey, you've captivated Michael's full, eerily still attention in a way few things ever manage.

He stalks towards you with leonine grace, jaw locked and shoulders thrown back imperiously - every inch the untamable apex predator.

Only once Michael towers over you does his gaze smolder with something darker than cursory appraisal. That scorching look sears a white-hot trail over your body, setting nerves alight .

One calloused palm cups your jaw in a borderline punishing grip, tilting your face back as he searches your eyes for something indefinable. When he finally speaks, it's in a low snarl that raises goosebumps.

"Just make sure you know whose name you're wearing across yourself, mein juwel..."

Michael's ferocious claim settles like a brand over your lips in a toe-curling kiss that leaves you shaken and utterly his.

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zorosdimples · 9 months ago

Text

YUUJI X READER X CHOSO

when choso approaches yuuji with an intimate confession and a plea for help, your best friend convinces you to give his big brother a hands-on demonstration.

mdni. reader has breasts + a vagina + is called “baby” once; otherwise referred to as they/them. this is just over 1k words. i may write additional parts, but i make no promises!

Why did I agree to this?

Your back is pressed to your best friend’s broad chest, his tawny skin hot against your own. Bent at the knee, your legs are spread far apart, feet planted on the white bedsheets. A whimper escapes your bitten lips—a soft, fluttery exhale—half-embarrassment, half-excitement.

Discarded somewhere on Yuuji’s bedroom floor is your bra. You’re simply clad in a pair of cotton panties, plain white, nondescript. You wouldn’t call the undergarment sexy, but the bulge straining at the small of your back begs to differ; it sends a thrill down your spine.

Choso kneels between your open legs primly, wide palms clammy as they rest atop his knees. His eyes are smoked amethysts, unreadable as they pointedly remain on his brother, never straying to your face or your mostly nude figure.

“Look, Cho,” Yuuji entreats as his calloused touch moves upward from your thighs to your breasts. You swallow the breath that hitches in your throat, chest shuddering as two thick fingers pinch each of your nipples. “Touch them riiiight here—feels good, huh baby?”

Baby. (You’d rather drop dead than admit it, but you’ve pleasured yourself countless times to this fantasy, the image of your best friend calling you every endearment beneath the horizon in his honey-sweet voice.)

Wading through a syrupy fog of tension and want, you nod in agreement. Choso swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he replaces Yuuji’s hands with his own, gaze darting to yours. His palms are larger than his younger brother’s, his ivory fingers cool and smooth as they circle your nipples.

Earnestly you suggest: “You can look at my tits, Cho.”

Yuuji chuckles at the way the older man’s cheeks ripen and bloom from your forwardness; his hands settle on your thighs, kneading the fat as he watches his brother shift his attention. Choso focuses on your chest, at the way your breasts ripple and bounce under his careful ministrations.

For the first time since he walked into the room, Choso speaks. “Is it okay if I…” he licks his lips as he trails off.

His voice is gentle and almost monotone; you’d be offended if you couldn’t see the flush that burns the tips of his ears and bleeds down to his strong chest. (The visible strain in his black boxer briefs puts your mind at ease, too.)

“Use your mouth,” you urge him with a kind smile.

It surprises you how quickly Choso dips down, the tip of his nose brushing the swell of your breast before he sticks his tongue out and paints a swirl that ends on your nipple. At first, just the peaked nub rests between his chapped lips. But he builds confidence—or curiosity gets the better of him—and you gasp as he sucks as much breast as he can fit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. He repeats his movements on your other breast.

When he raises his head, he leans into you, stopping a hair’s breadth from your mouth, a silent plea for permission. “Now kiss me,” you murmur; Choso obliges.

It begins chastely: your lips slotting with his and guiding the pace. He jolts at the sensation when you first slide your tongue along the seam of his lips, although he catches on quickly, allowing you entry. While his hands initially rested awkwardly on the mattress, he now moves them upward, cradling your cheeks with reverence. His kisses are sloppy and unpracticed, but you both find yourselves growing heated as your fingertips map his torso, skating lower and lower until you can twirl his thick happy trail. You whimper when he shifts and accidentally grinds against you.

Yuuji interrupts your increasingly desperate make out. “Ready to see them, Cho?”

Choso pulls away, a string of spit snapping between your parting tongues. He watches as Yuuji thumbs the top of your underwear before sliding them beneath the fabric and stroking your plush hips.

“Before you remove these, you should feel our lovely guest through the fabric.” Yuuji’s breath curls against the shell of your ear; you can’t help the moan that slips out and hangs in the air. He rests his chin atop your shoulder, his next words making you clench: “I’ve got a feeling it’s soaked.”

Eyes the color of bruised plums meet yours. Three fingers brush against the top of your panties, trailing down over your clit, stopping right at your hole. “You’re so wet,” Choso states, rubbing the sodden fabric. “All of this is because of us?”

You shiver under Choso’s fervent stare. Yuuji presses a tender kiss to your shoulder as his hands move up to caress your hair. You swallow dryly; you don’t think you’ve ever been as turned on as you are right now, pinned between the brothers’ bodies and undivided attention.

“Yeah—mmm, yes,” you manage to get out.

Pleased by your response, Choso hums. He drags a fingernail up your underwear until he teases your clit, featherlight, coaxing a warble from you. Eventually, he makes his way back to the waistband. “Can I?”

You bite your lip. “Please, Cho.”

As though savoring the moment, Choso lays down on his stomach and peels the garment off, exhaling a shaky breath as your pubic hair emerges, then groaning when your entire cunt is bared. Yuuji slides a hand down your belly and peels back your vulva, desire webbing across your folds, highlighting your swollen clit.

“Oh fuck—that’s a pretty sight,” Yuuji mutters.

His brother either doesn’t hear him or ignores him entirely; Choso looks only to you. “I’m going to taste now, okay?”

“H-hold on,” Yuuji blurts out. You twist around to look at him. His amber irises blaze as he slips his middle finger down, shallowly massaging your wet hole. “I—” he pauses, “I wanna try, too.”

His eyes never leave yours as he raises the shining digit to his mouth and proceeds to greedily lap up your arousal. “Shit,” he hisses. You think you’re going to wither under the intensity of his flaming stare. But instead—he pulls you into a bruising kiss.

Before you can process the pressure of your best friend’s lips on your own, Choso licks a line from your hole to your clit, wrapping his thick arms around your thighs, and Yuuji swallows your squeal of surprise. All rational thought floats away with your impending bliss.

You still don’t know why exactly you agreed to this arrangement. But these two brothers are going to be the death of you—of that you’re certain.

#unmmmmmmmnnnnmm. i’ve mentioned this before in passing but finally wrote a little something. may write additional parts—idk!#it’s just a thirst—pls enjoy!#yuuji x reader #choso x reader #jjk x reader #yuuji <3 #choso <3 #༄ kae writes

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flemingology · 29 days ago

Note

christmas request! a day out with alessia at winter wonderland. super fluffy. you go ice skating, go on the ferris wheel, get hot chocolates, even win her a bear at a fairground booth!

winter wonderland ─ alessia russo x reader

in which: you and alessia have a christmas-themed date night

warnings: none

wc: 1.6k

a/n: changed the request up a little bit (basically just who receives the bear lol.), hope you still like it!

You'd been looking forward to this night for the whole week. Your hectic schedule had meant you and Alessia hadn't gone out for a proper date in weeks, but the second you realized that you'd have the 22nd of December off, you circled it with red on the calendar in your home office. Date night. And nothing would come between it.

As a heart surgeon, your working hours were very irregular. Your girlfriend and you had managed to work around your respectively busy schedules, always making sure that you made time for one another wherever you could, but some periods were worse than others. You'd been working non-stop for the past three weeks, up before dawn and not home before sunset. It was starting to take its toll on you, and Alessia didn't fail to notice either.

She was usually quite busy herself, but with the winter break in full flow, she had more time to think about things. More time to notice things. She saw how your shoulders slagged when you came home from work past 9pm again, how getting out of bed became more and more of a struggle with each passing day, how you started needing two coffees instead of one to wake yourself up. She noticed how tired you were.

The two of you sat down on the couch one night, and she brought it up. She tentatively brushed the topic, unsure whether this was something you wanted to talk about, but soon enough you let your emotions flow and Alessia held you until you had calmed down enough to have a conversation about. You felt drained, really, and you wanted nothing more than to recharge in the arms of your lover. That night, Alessia promised you that she'd set up a date night for the two of you in the near future. And when the opportunity came around to do it on Sunday the 22nd, neither of you were even thinking about anything else but a night out.

You got ready in the bedroom, humming along to a song Alessia was playing on her speaker in the bathroom. Your girlfriend emerged a couple minutes later, and crossed the bedroom in a quick few strides. "You ready?" Alessia's eyes lit up and you felt a warm feeling of gratitude well up for the woman in front of you. No matter how busy it got, how rocky life would be, she was always there. Like a rock. Alessia always knew exactly what you needed, and you were so excited for your night out together. "Yeah, let's go." You grabbed her hand in yours and you made your way downstairs, locking up your apartment behind you and getting in the car.

Alessia expertly navigated the streets of London towards the Christmas fair. You parked the car up a couple blocks away, not wanting to deal with the struggle of trying to find parking closer by. You hooked your arm through your girlfriends, talking about everything and nothing as you strolled through the streets of London, making your way over to the fair.

The streets were busy, bustling with people wanting to soak up the Christmas atmosphere in the British capitol. It made you feel warm inside, a stark contrast to the icy temperatures outside. "God, it's cold." Alessia seemed to read your mind. "Yeah, I'm grateful for my hat and gloves." You chuckled, before an idea came to mind as you saw a hot drinks stall. "You wanna get a hot chocolate?" Alessia's eyes lit up as she met yours. "You know just how to make a girl happy."

Alessia and you walked around the fair for what felt like ages. You could feel the stress of the past couple weeks falling from your shoulders with each passing minute. This had been exactly what you needed, and you were so grateful to your girlfriend for organizing this for the both of you.

"Oh my God, babe," Alessia's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her finger pointing to a small rifle range. "Look at their prizes." You looked up and saw a couple big teddy bears hanging from the roof of the stall. "You wanna go play?" You asked your girlfriend, giving her hand a little squeeze as she nodded eagerly.

Of course she won you the bear. In typical Alessia fashion, stealing the show as she hit every single one of the 40 bullets she had bought. "Here, for you." Alessia beamed as she took the bear from the man behind the counter and stretched it out towards you. "Thank you, my love." You took the bear from her and pressed a sweet kiss against her lips, placing your unoccupied hand on the back of her neck as she tried to pull away. You pulled her back into you and kissed her again, trying to pour all the love you had for her into the kiss. "Thank you for this. For tonight. I needed this," you whispered as you pressed your forehead against hers. "Anything for you." The teddy was almost as tall as you, and you were slightly struggling to carry it with you. Alessia picked up on it and took it from you, putting it on her shoulders, holding the bear up with one hand and holding yours with the other.

The next thing you found yourself wanting to try was the ferris wheel, although you had a slight feeling that your girlfriend would be wary of getting on. "Less," you started, drawing out her name a little as she cocked an eyebrow at you. "You wanna go on the ferris wheel?" You tried, a slight smile tugging at your lips, one you knew she'd find hard to resist. You didn't miss the groan that escaped her lips upon your question. She cocked an eyebrow at you. "Do we have to?" You chuckled and squeezed her hand that was holding yours.

"Please? For me?" "Ugh. Fine." "You're too easy, Russo." "Shut it or I'm throwing you off when we reach the top." "Empty threats, love. We all know that."

Alessia clung to your side the entire ride, clutching your hand in hers as your carriage started to reach the top. "I genuinely don't understand why people willingly go on things like this. What if something goes wrong and you just... fall?" You didn't want to ridicule your girlfriend, but you couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped your lips, to which you received a glare in response. "The odds for that happening are ridiculously low, love. It's not an irrational fear, but it's not gonna happen. Look, we're almost back down." Alessia felt a little guilty that her apprehension stopped you from enjoying the ride, but a quick few pecks and reassuring whispers meant for her and her only got her back feeling okay.

You strolled a little further, and as much as you were bundled up, the cold icy night was finding its way through your layers of clothes and started crawling across your body. Alessia noticed you were shivering and pulled you closer into her, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and clutching you tight against her body. You wrapped your arm around her midsection and were grateful for the warmth that still seemed to come from her body, the striker never having a cold bone in her body meaning you could always warm yourself up on her.

"You wanna get a hot chocolate? Maybe it'll help with the cold." You and Alessia had arrived at a hot drinks stall and she couldn't resist the smell of the fresh hot chocolate. You agreed, and soon you were both walking hand in hand, the two of you holding a hot chocolate in your unoccupied hand. It was glorious, really, a nice big steaming cup of hot chocolate with little marhsmallows on top. It warmed you up a little, easing the nagging feeling of the cold wind that still nipped at every sliver of skin it came across.

Your fingers and nose were red from the cold and your teeth were slightly chattering, but you wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else right now. Your girlfriend's hand clutched tight in yours, talking about everything and nothing as you strolled to London's Christmas fair. The Christmas joy cheered you up and helped ease away the last of your worries of how busy work had been the past couple weeks. You needed this, and just as always, Alessia knew.

You didn't stay much longer after having drank your hot chocolates, the cold starting to get a little too much for the two of you. So you drove home and settled on the couch together, a fuzzy blanket draped over your entangled bodies and a show on the tv that was more background noise than anything else. Alessia ran a comforting hand through your hair and rested her other one comfortably on the small of your back, pressing soft kisses against your crown as you slowly but surely eased off into a peaceful slumber on your girlfriend's chest.

Just before you fell asleep, though, you could hear a faint whisper coming from the woman underneath you. "I love you, darling." Alessia thought you were asleep, so was surprised to hear you reply. "Right back at you, love. Thank you for tonight." You accentuated your words with a firm kiss against her chest, right where your head was resting.

No matter how busy work would get, as long as you had your blonde lover to come home to and wrap your arms around, you felt like you could take on the whole world.

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenal wfc #england wnt #lionesses

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justlemmeadoreyou · 8 months ago

Text

intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

summary: harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension?

words: 6k

warnings: smut, fluff. p in v sex (on the ice rink 🤭), kissing, dirty talk, cursing, creampie.

Harry tied the laces on his hockey skates tightly. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of practice. He could hear sounds coming from the rink - ice being scraped by skates, pucks hitting the boards, the coach's whistle. Harry gave his laces one final tug before grabbing his stick.

He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells. The chilly air made goosebumps form on his arms. The rink was like a second home to him. Hockey wasn't just a sport - it was a huge part of who he was.

"Harry! Get out here!" one of his teammates yelled from the rink. They had already started drills.

Harry grinned and headed out of the locker room. The cold air hit his face. He breathed it in deeply. The icy smell, the rubber pucks, the sweaty aroma - it all felt comforting to Harry. To others it might smell bad, but to him it smelled like the game he loved.

Harry stepped onto the ice and immediately relaxed. Gliding across the smooth surface, he fell in line with his teammates. They were doing intense drills - racing across the ice, passing pucks back and forth. Harry focused hard, practicing his puck handling, skating agility, and wrist shots.

"Keep it up, Styles! Work hard and you'll make it to the big leagues one day!" Coach Bradford yelled from the bench in his gravelly voice.

Motivated, Harry accelerated with a burst of speed. He weaved through cones and ripped slapshots on goal. By the end, he was drenched in sweat, hair matted to his forehead.

Finally, the coach's whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. Harry stayed out, picking up scattered pucks, while his teammates headed off the ice. Their skates dug trenches as they went.

"Coming for pints later, Styles?" one of the guys called out to him with a grin.

"Think I'll stay and get some more practice in," Harry replied, already lining up pucks.

His friend chuckled and shook his head. "Course you will, ya hockey nut!"

Harry smiled to himself as he readied his stance at the face-off circle. He took some calming breaths, then launched slapshot after slapshot. Hockey was his happy place.

Suddenly, the sound of classical music echoed through the rink. Harry looked up, distracted, and saw a figure gliding onto the ice. It was Y/N, looking like an ethereal vision in her shimmery white skating outfit.

Harry had seen Y/N around the rink before, but had never really paid attention. Now, he found himself utterly transfixed as she began gracefully spinning and leaping across the ice. Her every move was mesmerizing.

From his side of the rink, Harry gaped at Y/N in awe. He gripped his stick tightly as she performed effortless jumps and intricate spins. Her dance across the ice was like a carefully choreographed masterpiece.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. He watched, slack-jawed, as she launched herself into a triple lutz, rotating three times in the air before landing smoothly. Her practice was spellbinding.

Y/N finally caught Harry staring at her from across the way. A flush spread over her cheeks, obvious even from a distance. She looked surprised to have an audience.

The tension broke when a rogue puck trickled across the ice, coming to a stop by Y/N's skates. She glanced down at it, then back at Harry.

"S-Sorry, didn't mean to bother you," Harry called out, feeling sheepish.

But Y/N just gave him a shy smile that dazzled him. "No worries, the rink's for sharing."

And just like that, the Hockey stud and the figure skating beauty shared their first interaction and smiles across the expanse of frozen ice.

Over the next few nights, Harry intentionally stayed late after hockey practice. Sure enough, Y/N was always there too, gracefully practicing her routines to soaring instrumental music.

At first they kept their distance, staying on opposite sides of the rink. They exchanged polite hellos and "excuse me's" anytime they ventured close.

But Harry couldn't resist furtively watching Y/N whenever she attempted a jump or spin. The way she commanded the ice captivated him. Her movement was powerful yet delicate, athletic yet graceful.

For her part, Y/N tried not to overtly gape at Harry as he drilled his hockey skills. But it was difficult to ignore his intensity and ferocity as he powerfully strode across the ice, ripping slapshots or stickhandling between cones.

Little by little, over those next evenings together, Harry and Y/N started making small adjustments. They angled their practices closer and closer to the center of the rink. Neither commented on it, but some unseen force seemed to be drawing them in from opposite ends.

One night, as Y/N spun directly in front of where Harry prepped pucks, he gasped audibly. "Wow..."

Y/N looked up, making accidental eye contact. Their gazes locked and she couldn't help but give him a tiny, coy smile before whipping around seamlessly into her next spin sequence.

Mesmerized, Harry felt his heart thump in his chest. He knew firsthand how much work went into athletic excellence like Y/N's skating. But there was also an indescribable artistry to the way she moved in tune with the music. It was spellbinding.

Harry was shaken from his trance by a puck smacking his shinguards. "Earth to Styles! You still with us, mate?" one of his teammates chirped with a grin from the bench.

Embarrassed to be caught ogling, Harry just sheepishly rubbed his neck. Over the past week of sharing the rink with Y/N, he had definitely lost some focus during team practices.

He took a steadying breath and refocused on drills with renewed intensity. But even as he rejoined his linemates, he couldn't stop sneaking peeks through the corner of his eye at the lithe figure skater.

Later, just as the music crescendoed to a finish, Harry heard the distinct whisper of skates approaching him. He turned to find Y/N gliding to a stop nearby, cheeks delicately flushed from exertion and wispy hairs stuck to her neck with perspiration.

"You have really great puck control," she remarked shyly.

Harry's mouth went a little dry at her proximity and floral scent mixing with the icy air. "Th-thanks. And your skating is just...amazing."

Y/N let out a tinkling laugh at his flustered words. "Actually, I was going to ask if maybe you could give me some hockey tips sometime? It could really help with my edgework and connecting to the ice."

"Yeah, seriously? Of course!" Harry eagerly agreed before she even finished asking. He would've said yes to virtually any request to spend more time around this entrancing girl. "But uh, I should warn you...I'm a pretty intense coach," he added with a lopsided grin.

Y/N just playfully rolled her eyes. "I can definitely handle you."

She skated backwards a few strides, flashing him a brilliant smile that made his heart flutter. "So I'll see you out here again tomorrow night then...Coach?"

Harry nodded, unable to contain his own wide smile. "It's a date."

A strange new energy seemed to crackle between them in the cold rink air. Harry's gaze lingered on Y/N as she glided off elegantly, unable to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic sway of her hips beneath her gossamer skating skirt.

As soon as she disappeared into the locker room, Harry let out a long exhale he didn't realize he'd been holding. He felt completely bewitched by this girl - her beauty, her talent, her effortlessly disarming presence.

For years, hockey had been Harry's sole obsession, his all-consuming priority. But in this moment, he could feel another obsession taking hold - one with this sublime, mysterious figure skater who had seemingly materialized into his life.

Gathering up the scattered pucks, Harry definitely sensed that tomorrow's "hockey lesson" was bound to be interesting...

***

The next evening, Harry arrived at the rink extra early, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. His stomach was doing bizarre somersault twists - an unusual sensation for him before stepping out onto the ice. Normally the rink was his haven, the one place he felt most at home and at peace. But tonight, he was practically vibrating with nervous anticipation.

Harry had been distracted all day, struggling to focus during classes and his morning workout at the gym. Tonight's private "lesson" with Y/N kept replaying over and over in his mind like a maddeningly catchy song stuck on repeat. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the prospect of helping her with hockey drills made him so jittery. It's not like he'd never tutored teammates or younger players before.

But something about the thought of being alone on the ice with the lithe, beautiful figure skater sent Harry's heart fluttering in a way he'd never experienced. Usually so self-assured and confident, Harry was uncharacteristically self-conscious as he laced up his skates tonight. He fussed over making sure his wild chestnut hair didn't look too disheveled, and discreetly applied some of his musky cologne before leaving the locker room.

Stepping out onto the dimly-lit rink, Harry gave himself a little pep talk to quell his inexplicable nerves. "Come on, Styles, get it together. It's just a bloody skating lesson, for fuck's sake. You've been playing hockey since you could walk! What's there to be nervous about?"

But then his breath hitched as he spotted Y/N already out on the ice, gently coasting along with her arms hugged around herself. She seemed to almost glow in the soft lighting, a breathtaking vision in her sleek athletic attire that clung to every tantalizing curve. Her lithe form effortlessly flowed with each stride across the smooth ice.

Sensing she wasn't alone anymore, Y/N slowed to a stop and turned to face Harry with a shy smile. "Oh! Hey there, Coach. Shall we get started then?"

"Y-Yeah, of course! Let's do this," Harry replied with an overcompensating bravado, giving his head a little shake as if to dispel his nerves.

Y/N giggled at his awkward bravado, the tinkling sound making Harry's heart skip a beat. "Don't look so tense! It's just me."

Her teasing only made Harry feel more flustered as a smile tugged at his lips. "Exactly. It's...just you."

They both let those words hang there heavy between them for a moment, their eyes locked together across the wide ice. Then, as if through unspoken agreement, they simultaneously broke into laughter at their own silly tension.

"Right, okay then! Let's start with some basic stickhandling and power skating drills," Harry finally announced in his best "coaching" voice, scooping up a few pucks.

"Lead the way, Coach Styles!" Y/N gamely agreed with a grin.

For the next little while, some of Harry's nerves settled as he fell back into that familiar pattern of running drills, feeling assured and authoritative in his element. He put Y/N through a series of intense stickhandling routines - dribbling the puck between complicated cone patterns, making tight turns while handling the puck in circles, deking around obstacles with fast crossovers.

To her credit, Y/N worked diligently and didn't complain once, even when sweat began dampening her brow. Her exceptional skating prowess and coordination definitely helped her pick up hockey skills quickly. But the occasional fumbles and slips still drew some gentle teasing from Harry.

"Not quite, figure skater! You've got to keep your edges lower on crossovers," he tutted, flashing her a smirk as she wobbled slightly after messing up a pivot.

"Oh do forgive me, your Highness! Some of us don't have as much practice making aggressive cuts back and forth, you know!" she shot back with a laugh, planting her hands on her hips.

"No excuses, no excuses! How else are you gonna improve?" Harry quipped, skating lazy circles around Y/N while she caught her breath. His gaze kept drifting down to the sheen of sweat glistening along the graceful curve of her neck.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter, with Harry analyzing her form and gently course correcting when needed. For her part, Y/N chirped right back and seemed utterly unafraid to get a little sassy with her "coach."

At one point, after completing a rapid succession of puck handling sequences, Harry noticed a few loose strands of Y/N's hair had escaped her French braid to stick damply against her flushed face and neck. Before he could even really process the impulse, Harry found himself reaching out to gently brush the damp locks behind her ear.

Both of them froze at the sudden intimate gesture. Harry opened his mouth to quickly apologize for the overstep. But the words died in his throat when he glanced up and found Y/N gazing at him through hooded lids, her coy smile and flushed cheeks making his heart restart with a hard thud.

"I, uh...think you're ready to move on to some shooting drills now," Harry rasped in a low tone, reluctantly taking a step back and scooping up a few pucks.

They settled into the familiar rhythm of Harry rapidly feeding Y/N pucks while she whipped shot after shot towards the empty net. Her skating power and edgework were superb as she leaned into the lightning-fast wristers, putting her full body weight behind every blistering attempt on goal.

But as the drill progressed, Harry could see Y/N's form gradually getting sloppier as fatigue set in. Her shots lost some of their zip, her tight core beginning to hunch over. When one weak wrister fluttered harmlessly wide of the net, Harry blew his whistle to pause the action.

"Take a break for a minute, get some water," he urged in a tone much gentler than his usual coaching bark. Harry skated over to the bench and grabbed his own water bottle, downing a long pull. He watched Y/N do the same out of the corner of his eye as she bent over, those same wispy strands of hair falling to curtain her flushed face once more.

As she straightened back up, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat at the way Y/N's tight athletic top clung to her curves, damp with perspiration. He subconsciously licked his lips, feeling his mouth go dry with a sudden burst of dizzying arousal. Quickly looking away, Harry scrubbed a hand through his wild locks and cleared his throat roughly.

"Not bad at all for your first go with hockey drills. You've definitely got the fundamentals down pat."

Y/N shot him a radiant smile, seeming utterly unaware of the effect she was having on her coach as she smoothed back her sweaty hair. "Well, I do have an awfully good teacher pushing me hard."

"Don't sell yourself short," Harry countered, feeling his pulse spike at her playful flirtiness. He tried to keep his tone casual, but his voice still came out a bit lower and rougher than intended. "Your strong core, killer edges, and flexibility from skating give you a really solid base for hockey skills."

"Why Coach Styles, are you saying I have...a killer body?" she teased, enjoying how flustered she could make the supremely confident hockey stud.

Harry's jaw dropped open, her boldness utterly disarming him. "I-I, well I didn't...that's not exactly what I-"

But Y/N just giggled and skated backward, waving him off. "I'm just joking around! Let's keep going, yeah? But maybe take it a little easier since it's my first time handling your...stick."

She drew out the last two words with a salacious wink, throwing Harry completely off his game. His face reddened instantly, sputtering incoherently as an entirely different kind of tension suddenly clung thick in the air between them.

Seeming to realize she'd flustered her coach a bit too much, Y/N reigned in her playful teasing with an apologetic smile. "Too far?"

"No! No, it's...it's all good. Just caught me off guard is all," Harry said quickly, giving his head a little shake to clear it as a lopsided grin formed. Two could play at this flirtatious game. "Let's just say I'm happy to give you a few pointers on stick handling whenever you need it."

Y/N sent him an exaggerated wink, taking her position again. "Looking forward to it, Coach."

And just like that, the heavy undercurrent of sexual tension dissipated again as they refocused on their drills. But it was like a lingering spark had been lit between them, little flirty moments flickering to life occasionally as the practice session wore on.

At one point, Harry skated past closely behind Y/N to scoop up a rogue puck, making sure his firm chest brushed along her back ever-so-slightly. He definitely didn't miss the shiver that licked down her spine at the brief contact, even in the chill of the rink.

Another time, as he demonstrated a proper shooting stance with a high wrist shot, Y/N sidled up to his side. "Like this?" she murmured huskily, purposely pressing her lithe body flush against Harry's sculpted torso as she mimicked his firing motion.

Harry gulped thickly at their sudden intimate proximity, feeling his breath quicken. "Y-Yeah, just like that..." he rasped out, unable to tear his gaze from the delicate slope of Y/N's neck just inches away.

Oh, the smell of ice mixed with her intoxicating perfume, all he wanted to do was take a bite.

With a wicked grin, Y/N slowly extracted herself from Harry's personal space, leaving the poor guy almost dizzy and aching for her warmth again. This girl was going to be the death of him.

After nearly two hours of rigorous back-and-forth drilling, skating lap after lap across the rink, they were both finally drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Y/N paused for a long pull from her water bottle before tossing it aside carelessly and gliding right up to Harry with a gleam in her eye.

"I've got one last request for my hockey tutor..." she said in a low, sultry tone as she drew closer and closer until the heat of her body mingled with Harry's.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart thundering beneath his sweat-soaked jersey. "Y-Yeah? What's that?"

With a sly grin, Y/N reached out and boldly rucked up the hem of Harry's jersey until it bunched up beneath his armpits. Then she openly raked her heated gaze over every toned inch of his sculpted abdomen and chest now deliciously exposed.

"I want you to show me..." she purred in a low, gravelly tone, "how you celebrate after scoring a big goal."

Harry felt like all the air had been punched from his lungs as her words and blazing look washed over him. He stood there frozen, abdominal muscles twitching beneath her roaming eyes. When she slowly dragged her tongue across her plump lower lip, Harry was utterly undone.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the hips and hauled her flush against his body as he crashed his lips onto hers in a searing, desperate kiss. She gasped in surprise against his hungry mouth before instantly melting into the embrace, her fingers fisting into his damp hair.

Their kisses were immediately messy and uncoordinated, all instinct and pent-up longing as they finally gave in to the thick tension that had slowly simmered during their private lesson. Harry angled his head, deepening their liplock as his hands gripped Y/N's lithe waist almost punishingly. She rolled her hips shamelessly against the unmistakable bulge in his athletic pants, earned a guttural groan from Harry.

"Fuck...you're going to be the death of me, you bloody tease," he growled against the sleek column of her throat as his lips blazed a hot trail across her overheated skin.

Y/N laughed breathlessly, the sound shooting straight to Harry's groin. "I'd say I'm sorry...but I'm really, really not."

Growling again at her cheekiness, Harry abruptly spun them both and shoved Y/N up against the dasher boards, pinning her there with his body as his large hands roamed greedily over her petite frame. Bunching up her sleek workout top, he leaned down to trail openmouthed kisses along the soft swell of her belly and up between the lace-capped valley of her breasts.

Y/N squirmed and writhed shamelessly against Harry, little whimpery pants escaping her bitten lips as his calloused hands roamed every inch of her overheated skin finally bared to his wandering touch. Threading her fingers through his wild hair, she tugged his mouth back up to hers for another messy clash of dueling tongues and harsh breaths.

"Harry..." she whined out between electrifying kisses. "I want...I need..."

"What, love? Tell me what you need," he rasped against the swell of her parted lips, hips rutting shamelessly against her core as he pinned her harder to the unforgiving boards.

She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, lust-darkened eyes, chest heaving. In answer, Y/N boldly reached down and cupped the bulge tenting the front of Harry's pants. An audible groan punched out of him at her touch, his forehead thudding weakly against the brows by her head.

"Jesus...are you sure? Here on the rink like this?" he questioned, even as his hips grinded shamelessly into her exploring palm.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Y/N whispered urgently. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip, peering back at him through dense lashes. "I want you so fucking badly right here, right now. Please, Harry...I need you inside me."

That was all the encouragement Harry needed before crashing his lips back to Y/N's in another messy, fiery kiss. One large hand slid around to cup her arse, grinding her core more firmly against the rigid length of him. She rewarded him with a broken whimper into his mouth.

With his free hand, Harry blindly tugged Y/N's leggings and knickers down in one impatient tug until they were a rumpled pool around her ankles. She quickly kicked them aside, spreading her thighs wantonly as Harry settled in the cradle of her hips.

They both groaned in unison as the their centres made contact, Harry's clothed length nestling snugly against Y/N's slick, molten heat. Reaching between their flush bodies, Y/N deftly freed Harry's straining cock to spring free from the confines of his pants. She traced the plump velvet head teasingly, drinking in Harry's desperate whine against her lips.

"Fuck me..." Harry panted, rutting shamelessly against her hand. "Y/N, please let me fuck you, baby."

That was all the encouragement she needed before guiding his broad tip to her entrance. They both cried out in unison as Harry bottomed out in one slick thrust forward, his thick cock fitting snugly inside her with a soft punch of air. The thick length prodded into her deliciously, kissing the back of her damp cervix. They stilled together for a wild heartbeat, trembling mouths and sweat-dampened foreheads pressed flush as they adjusted to the heady feeling of being so intimately connected.

Harry was the first to move, withdrawing his hips in a slow grind before slamming back home, driving a guttural moan from Y/N's parted lips. He set a punishing pace, his strong arms and thighs flexing with the effort of moving them both against the rigid boards. Y/N wrapped her toned legs high around his flexing hips, nails raking down his rigid back as he jackhammered into her welcoming body over and over.

“Oh fuck, Harry-just like that, like that, yeah–” Y/N moaned once more, grinding her hips against his pelvis, his cock twitching isnide her cunt at the sensation.

“Oh Jesus, you’re so damn hot, you know taht?” he panted into her mouth, their damp clothes sticking togtehr in a sweaty mess. But the way they made each other feel, it was all worth it.

They panted out harsh, shuddering breaths, slick skin slapping together obscenely in the silence of the empty rink. Y/N babbled out breathy moans and curses, struggling to muffle the loud echoes with her face buried in the sweaty curve of Harry's neck. She bit down on it occasionally, earning a groan from him as she paired it with desperate clenches around his length.

But her unraveling cries only spurred him on, his cock driving into her with rougher, more frantic strokes until they were both hovering right on the edge.

With a few more powerful snaps of his hips, Y/N’s back arched like a bow and screamed out her climax, creamy inner walls fluttering spastically around Harry's thick length. The sudden gripping contractions yanked Harry's own orgasm from him in hot bursts as he brokenly shouted out his release, teeth sinking into the supple juncture of Y/N's neck and shoulder, something he had been waiting to do since teh night they met.

They clung together in a sweaty, panting jumble of sated limbs, chests heaving as they slowly drifted back to earth. Little aftershocks still rippled through them both until finally Harry drew his head back, blissfully dazed as he gazed at the thoroughly rumpled and glowing girl in his arms.

"Well...I'd say you definitely scored one hell of a goal," Y/N panted out breathlessly after a moment, trying for a coy smile despite her wild disarray.

Harry tipped his head back and laughed, the sound bright and carefree as he peppered fresh kisses along Y/N's heated cheek and jaw. "Lucky shot, beautiful..."

They held each other for a long stretch, neither willing to break the intimate embrace just yet despite the chilled rink air now raising goosebumps across their sweat-slickened skin. Harry nuzzled deeper against Y/N's neck, breathing in her lingering floral scent heavily tinged with sweat and arousal.

Eventually though, Harry reluctantly eased Y/N's trembling legs back to the floor, steadying her with a firm arm around her waist. Looking around the dim rink with a lopsided smile, he gave a low chuckle at the state of complete disarray - sopping workout clothes, towels, and water bottles strewn everywhere around them, plus a naughty new addition of Y/N's lacy panties lying crumpled against the boards where their heated frenzied began.

Y/N looped her arms loosely around Harry's neck, her coy eyes sparkling with mirth as she gazed back at him adoringly. Harry leaned in again to capture her lips in a sensual, unhurried kiss, reveling in the taste and feel of her. When they finally broke apart again, he pressed his forehead to hers with a contented sigh.

"Fancy grabbing a pint with me when we're done cleaning up this unholy mess?" Harry murmured, pressing his forehead to Y/N's with a contented sigh. "I'll even let you order me around a bit more."

"Is that supposed to be an incentive?" Y/N countered with a throaty chuckle, lazily trailing her fingertips through the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. "Because I was rather enjoying calling the shots just now."

"Oh you cheeky minx," Harry growled playfully before surging in to capture her lips in another heated kiss. He walked them backwards until Y/N's back hit the boards again with a dull thud, caging her in with his body as his large hands roamed eagerly over her bare curves.

Y/N mewled softly into his ravenous mouth, welcoming the slide of his tongue stroking intimately against her own. Her limbs felt heavy and lax, muscles still tingling from the mind-blowing release mere minutes ago. But she could already feel a new ember of need beginning to stoke low in her belly as Harry's sweat-slicked skin glided feverishly against hers.

One of his big hands boldly slid down to cup her arse, hauling Y/N's pliant body flush to grind against the feel of his new arousall. She gasped at the electrifying friction, breaking their liplock on a broken whine.

"Harry...already? I can barely feel my legs!"

"Sorry love, what was that?" he rumbled right back, swirling his hips in a deliberate grind to drag his impressive length along her drenched folds. "Did you want me to stop?"

"No! God no, please don't stop," Y/N hurriedly corrected on a breathless keen as Harry sealed his mouth over her thundering pulse point. His other large hand boldly palmed her breast, callused thumb rasping over her peaked nipple until she shuddered.

"Good girl," he praised in a gravelly tone before biting down sharply on the tendon at the base of her throat.

Y/N jolted with a strangled cry at the tantalizing sting, her back bowing sharply away from the unforgiving barrier at her spine as her legs instinctively scissored wider around Harry's hips. Lust roared through her veins again, thick and heady as their slick skin slid together with the beginnings of a fervent grind.

Lips and teeth clashed in a heated duel once more, the rink filling with harsh pants and whines muffled against sweat-dampened skin. Harry was already throbbing and more than ready to bury himself back inside Y/N's snug, fluttering heat. But he purposefully held off, delighting in slowly winding them both into a lascivious frenzy with nothing but sinuous rolls of his hips and fervent caresses.

"Need you inside me," Y/N groaned at last, using her heels to dig into Harry's firm arse and pull him infinitesimally closer until his rigid length prodded against her drenched entrance. "Harry please, I can't wait anymore. Fuck me again, love."

He gave a gruff sound of approval at her shameless pleading, the authoritative command fueling his already ravenous lust into an outright inferno. Capturing her mouth in another seering kiss, Harry easily hitched Y/N's leg up over his hip before finally sheathing himself inside her with one powerful snap of his hips.

They both cried out in unison at the feeling of being so intimately reconnected, Y/N's sweet whimper swallowed by Harry's desperate groan. He set an immediately brutal pace, pulling nearly all the way out before pounding back in with punishing strokes, letting the delicious tension coil and crescendo.

Y/N's broken whimpers and moans filled the rink, echoing back at them from the vacant rafters as her petite frame was pinned and jolted by Harry's fervent tempos. One hand scrabbled at the abused boards behind her, trying in vain to find purchase as the other fisted and yanked wildly through Harry's sweat-dampened locks.

"Yes! Yesyesyes..." she babbled mindlessly on each jarring upstroke that grinded deliciously against that molten front wall of nerves. "Oh fuck, Harry...just like that, god yes!"

Harry only growled in response, using his bulk and powerful thighs to hammer into her molten core with somehow even more brutal strokes. His teeth found purchase on the feverish juncture of Y/N's neck and collar, sucking a blossom of arousal to the surface as his hips snapped forward in a punishing grind.

It went on that way, the only sounds filling the rink their harshly mingled cries and the thunderous squelch of flesh meeting slickly in an unforgiving, wild rut. As they spiraled ever higher towards their mutual crescendos, Harry and Y/N's movements turned almost frenzied and animalistic in their unbridled need.

With a few more piston thrusts of his hips, Y/N detonated first. Her eyes rolled back and mouth dropped open on a guttural, sobbing cry of rapture. Every muscle in her lithe body locked up in an archway of pure ecstasy, inner muscles fluttering as she fell over the sweet euphoric release, her stomach tingling with adoration as he looked at her like she was the oly woman in the world.

“Fuck me…” she giggled, but it was immediately transformed into a broken moan as his hips snapped into her quivering entrance once more, her back arching towards his mouth as he latched onto her swollen nipples once again.

His hips snapped inside her–once, twice, thrice–before he was spilling himself inside her, her warmth clinging to him like a comforting embrace that made both their hearts skip a beat.,

***

After their intense intimate encounter on the ice, Harry and Y/N took a few moments to catch their breath and bask in the afterglow. They held each other close, exchanging tender kisses and caresses as their rapidly beating hearts eventually began to settle.

Looking around at the state of disarray they had left the rink in - scattered equipment, towels, water bottles strewn about - Harry chuckled softly against Y/N's tousled hair. "I'd say we've properly christened this ice in a completely unholy way."

Y/N laughed lightly, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Even amid the chill of the rink, she felt deliciously warm and content cocooned in Harry's strong embrace. "Well they do say no place is too sacred for certain activities."

"Cheeky thing, you are," Harry murmured affectionately, trailing his knuckles along the gentle curve of her flushed cheek. He dipped his head to capture her lips in another lingering kiss, savoring her taste and the feel of her body melting against his.

Eventually they knew they should disentangle and start cleaning up the rink before someone came across the incriminating scene of their tryst. With some reluctance, they separated just enough to hastily redress in their rumpled athletic wear.

As Y/N shimmied back into her leggings, she sent Harry a coy look from beneath her lashes. "So...did I pass my hockey training with flying colors then, Coach?"

Harry snorted at her playful quip, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'd say you earned an A+ for effort...among other things," he replied with a lopsided smirk.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter as they straightened up the rink, tossing towels and equipment into haphazard piles. Every so often, their gazes would meet and linger with a lingering heated undercurrent simmering between them.

Once they had restored some semblance of order, Harry tossed his duffel over his shoulder and took Y/N's hand, lacing their fingers together. "C'mon, let me buy you that pint to celebrate your...excellent performance review."

"Mmm, I do love a good performance incentive program," Y/N quipped, falling into step beside Harry towards the exit.

An easy, companionable silence fell over them as they made their way out of the deserted rink and into the crisp night air. Stealing a glance at the beaming beauty beside him, Harry felt a contented calm settle over his usual manic hockey intensity.

He wasn't sure what this new...relationship?...with Y/N would hold. But in that moment, just reveling in her presence and their newfound intimacy, Harry found he didn't really care about the future. He was happy to just bask in the feeling of her hand in his and the memory of her cries of pleasure echoing through the rafters.

As they strolled along, their joined hands swung lightly between their bodies. Harry grinned to himself, already wondering if he could convince Y/N of a repeat "lesson" very soon...

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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