#snow jackets mens | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

milla-frenchy · 2 months ago

Text

In the cold night

3k1 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: being on patrol, Joel and you spend the cold winter night together in a small house

Warnings: 18+ mdni. mention of a past SA attempt (not by Joel), protective!joel, feral!joel saving reader, friends to lovers, one bed, soft!joel, praise kink, masturbation (f), thighs rubbing, oral (f), piv. No age specified

a/n: this is written for @justagalwhowrites 's “Joel Miller birthday celebration”. I chose Jackson!Joel/one bed- Thank you for this event 🙏 Thank you @arcanefox207 for the gif in the mood board ❤️ Please, check out the full gif here and some others, they are stunning 😍 Thank you, Ally 🙏❤️ @aurorawritestoescape thank you as always for beta-ing, baby 💕🫶 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The crunch of your footsteps in the snow echoes in your head. Two rabbits are hanging from Joel’s back, clinging to his shoulder. His brown jacket has lost its shine long, long time ago, and the leather is frayed at the elbows and sleeves. Every time you pass him, the smell of old leather rushes into your nostrils. A reassuring, familiar scent.

You’re heading to an outpost, as you have done so many times before. You know each other's reflexes by heart, the way your bodies tense in case of danger, the glances that make speech useless. You no longer count the number of infected you have killed during patrols.

You look around a small wooden house. Searching for footprints, anything that might put you on alert. You scan the area, whether for infected, or worse- hunters or raiders.

You feel safe with Joel, ever since the day he snatched you from the hands of raiders. Two dirty, skinny men. They surprised you, during one of your first long patrols. They knocked Joel out, and dragged you on an old mattress of the shelter you just arrived at. They did not even pay attention to the dead duck that you planned to eat that evening. In this world, with some men, food is not the first thing they crave.

You punched one of them, then tried to grab your knife, but two men were too much to handle. When they threw you onto the mattress, you struggled, screaming, biting, then one held your arms while the other removed your pants. Tears obstructed your view. You would have preferred to be bitten by an infected, rather than that.

Just as the first man was about to lie down between your thighs while you were crying with rage, you heard a dull, cold, unexpected noise. A knife thrown from the opposite side of the room, just stuck in the skull of the man, holding your arms. As soon Joel threw the knife, he rushed to rip the man off your body, and then punched him so many times that his face got swollen from the blows and turned unrecognizable.

“Piece o’shit!” Joel growled from the depths of his chest. You looked at him, still half in shock at what had almost happened to you, feeling relieved. The man was lying on the ground, barely breathing. Joel let go of his collar and retrieved the knife from the second man’s skull. He pressed the tip of the blade against his heart and slowly pushed it in, his dark gaze fixed on the man’s. The raider’s feet twitched for a few moments, before they froze for eternity.

Then Joel rushed over to you and covered you with an old blanket pulled from the foot of the bed. As soon as he sat down on the mattress, his worried eyes fixed on you, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Wanting to forget your fear, to curl up against his reassuring presence. He took you in his arms, rocking you slowly, holding you close to him.

“ ‘m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear them coming, because of my damn bad ear.”

“It’s ok, Joel, it’s ok. They didn’t do anything to me,” you muffled in his chest.

“No it’s not. They did way too much. But I got you, now. I got you. Won’t happen again. Not on my watch.”

He held you against him for several minutes, patiently, one hand caressing your back, the other resting on the nape of your neck, until you stopped crying. He then asked if you were feeling a little better, if he could get the bodies out of the outpost. He didn’t want you to see them anymore. You nodded, watched him as he dragged the bodies out into the surrounding woods.

He was sitting next to you until you fell asleep. He stood guard all night, staring at the shadows of the trees through the window, letting you rest.

From that day on, you knew that nothing would happen to you as long as you were with Joel. He was the type of man who, when he said something, stuck to it. He was reliable, loyal, and serious. He was your patrol partner, and you couldn't have asked for a better one.

Once you reach the shelter, you prepare the fire in the hearth of the old fireplace, while Joel goes around this old house, half buried under the snow. It is the first time that you patrol here in the middle of winter, and the walls and the ground are icy. You eat one of the rabbits, trying in vain to warm yourself by the fire. As you get ready to go to bed, Joel puts a blanket on the floor.

“What are you doing, Joel? You can't sleep there. You're gonna freeze and die, it’s too cold!”

“There's only one bed, sweetheart. Ain't gonna sleep with you.”

“Of course you're gonna sleep with me. Come on, Joel, don't be silly. We can share the bed, we have to keep each other warm or the next patrol will find our two skeletons in this damn house.”

“Jesus, you’re so stubborn! Alright then.”

You smile, thinking that you had never met someone as stubborn as him, and if he hadn't noticed your slightly blue lips, he probably wouldn't have changed his mind.

You undress and slip under the thin blankets, wearing your t-shirt and panties. Grimacing at the contact with the cold and damp covers. He joins you in the small bed, and even though warmth radiates from his body, your teeth still chatter.

“Christ, you're freezing. C’mere, I’ll keep you warm,” he says, as you take off your t-shirt and he discards his too, leaving only his boxers.

“Told you we had to sleep in the same damn bed… and I'm the stubborn one?”

He chuckles, and takes you in his arms, his chest pressed against your back.

“Better, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, you’re as warm as a boiler. How is that possible? Icicles are practically falling off these blankets.”

“Alright, you’re exaggerating a bit, don’t you think?”

You scoff and muffle a laugh, then fall asleep.

You wake up during the night, Joel's light snoring in your ear. His arms are still around you and you're much less cold. His scent surrounds you. You shift slightly, putting the blanket that had slipped back on both of you. The movement makes him mumble in his sleep and you smile, getting ready to fall back asleep, until you feel him twitch against you. His cock, asleep until then, has just woken up in his boxers when your ass brushed against it.

You open your eyes suddenly. It’s been a long time since you felt a body- a hard cock - against you. You try to move away from him a little, to not wake him up, to not create awkwardness between you. But he holds you tighter against him, letting out a sigh of contentment when his cock finds its place against your ass again.

You get a rush of arousal and you're not sure if you'll be able to fall back asleep. Your walls are contracting painfully, calling for a release of the pressure from your crotch. You close your eyes, placing your hand under the pillow. Trying to think of something else, until his cock jerks again. Once, twice. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to fall back asleep.

So you think that maybe, if you do it discreetly, you can make yourself come. Even though he's lying against you, his chest against your back.

You slide your hand south, slowly, so as not to wake him, and start brushing your swollen folds through your panties. But it's not enough. You slide your hand under the hem, finally whirling your clit under your finger. Joel growls against your ear and you freeze for a few moments, until his breathing becomes calm, steady. Gently, you stroke yourself, finally starting to feel the fire in your crotch calm down a little.

You vaguely feel his nose brush your hair, not paying much attention to it, thinking he does it in his sleep. Then you feel his hand slowly slide down your arm, and you jerk, hastily removing your fingers from your panties, realizing that Joel is awake and that he has caught you.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” he whispers softly in your ear in his sleepy voice, taking your hand and gently bringing it back to your pussy.

You feel the heat reach your cheeks and think about getting up, but you're too ashamed to face him. There had never been any sexual tension between the two of you. You're what you could call friends, in this lost world. You trust each other, he told you about Sarah, you told him about your late husband and son. You trust each other, and honestly, you never thought about him as more than a friend. And you don't want to ruin your friendship.

“I just want you to feel good.”

You stay silent for a few moments. Thinking about what he's telling you. You know he's sincere.

You feel your clit pulsing and you bite your lip.

“Ok, Joel,” you breathe out.

You're unsure of what will happen between the two of you after, but you let him lead your hand and slide your fingers under your soaked panties. You're already moaning at the first touch and you feel your nipples hardening.

Delicately, the tips of his fingers pressed against yours, you let him lead the dance and travel through your folds. Then he slides both your hands into your panties, and makes you touch yourself so delicately, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, that new moans escape you.

“Keep going, Joel, please…”

He hums, grazing your ear with his nose. You hear his breathing deepen, then he presses his forehead against your shoulder blade, still using your finger to brush your clit. You feel your pussy dripping. The fact that he is using your fingers, so perfectly, is perhaps the most sensual thing you have ever done.

You feel his cock stuck in his boxers harden even more as he keeps touching you. You crave to feel him against you, without any fabric between your bodies. You forget your shyness, your reserve, your worries.

“Would you… pull down your boxers? So I can feel you?*

“Of course, sweetheart.” He lets go of your hand to pull down his underwear. His hard cock springs out and this time you feel it fully against you. Big, hard.

“Between my thighs, please…”

He kisses your back and grabs his cock, slides it into this tight space, then comes to rest against your fingers again, in your panties. You slowly move your pelvis back and forth, rubbing yourself against his shaft.

“Christ, sweetheart… Feeling you against me, like that…”

“I know, Joel. It’s… good, really good.”

You no longer remember your fear that this will change things between you. The feeling is too good, too powerful, to think about anything else.

His shaft slides easily between your thighs, your pussy soaking him continuously.

“You’re so wet for me, baby”, he whispers in your ear, and a new flow trickles from your walls. His free hand caresses your shoulder, then he kisses it. You feel his mustache brush your skin, and your moans fill the room.

“You’re gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“Fuck… fuck yeah, I'm gonna come, Joel.”

He keeps playing with your fingers with the same rhythm, feeling that you are close. Your mind goes blank. You only think about the pressure growing inside you, ready to explode.

“Come on baby, be a good girl for me,” he murmurs.

The orgasm washes over you, and you arch your back under its power, your ass pressed against Joel’s crotch. “Always such a good girl for me,” he praises, holding you against him, your hand in his, until your jerks stop.

Your breathing slowly goes down. “Damn”, you say. “That was so hot.”

“It was,” he smiles, kissing your shoulder. He doesn't ask for more, doesn't put any pressure on you, but you need more. You need your bodies to be one. You don't think too much about it, then add quickly, “Joel… I need to…” before shyness overwhelms you again, and he asks softly “tell me, baby. What do you need?”

The soft tone of his voice reassures you, and you add “I need to feel you… I need to feel you inside me.”

“Turn around, sweetheart. Lemme look at you.”

You do as he says, and face him. You barely see his face in the darkness of the night. Just enough to perceive the intensity in his gaze, behind his usual sweetness with you, as he strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, of course. Ready to take whatever he wants to give you. His warm lips land on yours and press against them. You hear him take a deep breath, then his nose rubs yours. He kisses you again, with more intensity, and sensations you thought forgotten forever jostle throughout your whole being. His tongue tastes your lips, then slides between them and finds yours. He moans as your hand grabs his shaft softly, wet with his precum and your desire. You jerk him off slowly as you continue to make out. He's big. So big. But you don't wonder if your body can accept it, after all this time. You know it will. And you know Joel will be soft. You nestle his cock at your entrance after pushing your panties aside, murmuring “I wanna feel you,” your forehead against his.

You tilt your pelvis forward and his tip slides inside you, making you hold your breath for a few moments.

“You’re ok?”

“Yeah. I just have to… get used to it.”

He doesn’t move and lets you handle the rhythm. You kiss him again, and you feel your pussy dripping, eager to be filled. You put your hand on the back of his neck and squeeze his bicep with the other, sliding further down his shaft. Your walls spread as you glide on his tip and again, you feel that forgotten feeling. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, nipples tense. Your hand runs through his neck, and you feel his prominent veins under your fingers.

“Oh my god,” you whine, when he is fully inside you. You pull back then push forward again, to reassure his worried eyes on you. You are so wet that the sounds echo in your ears and the whole room. Joel holds you against him, gently, sensually. One hand on your hip, the other on your back.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Can you lie down on me? I'd like to feel you deeper.”

He caresses your cheek and tells you yes, of course.

You lie on your back and he removes your panties, kneeling between your thighs.

And he looks at you, from your face to your cunt. "You're beautiful," he says. His stare stops there, then he glances at you. As if he was asking you silently if he could taste you. You nod and he settles between your thighs, spreading your folds with his fingers.

“You're so wet for me, baby,” he adds, before licking your pussy in a long stroke. Pointing his tongue at your clit, then running over your folds again. Your knees are bent, legs spread as wide as possible. His head moves between your offered thighs, your hands lost in his curls, while his tongue laps at your dripping pussy. He pushes two fingers in your core, and places his lips around your clit, sucking it. Then swirls it under his tongue, while his fingers thrust in at a perfect, regular pace.

“Joel,” you whimper. “I'm gonna come again.”

Your nails tighten on his scalp as you come on his tongue, your walls squeezing uncontrollably around his two fingers. He pulls them out and replaces them with his tongue, drinking in everything that flows from you. The feeling is so strong, forgotten for so long, that you feel like you're going to burst into tears. But he stops, careful not to overwhelm you, and lies down between your thighs. He places his hand on your cheek and searches for your eyes before pushing his tip into you with his other hand, eyes lowered to you.

“Damn sweetheart,” he breathes. “You feel so good around me.”

His words envelop you and lull you. His voice is low, calm, as slow and sweet as the rhythm in which he sinks into you.

All his weight is on you and you have never felt so safe in your entire life. His arms surround you as you kiss. Your hands roam the top of his body. His arms, his shoulders, his back, his cheeks, his neck. His cock slides inside you, pushing your walls in the most perfect way with each thrust. Your knees are spread wide to welcome him between your thighs. He straightens up, leaning on one hand, and looks at you. Looks into your eyes filled with desire.

He watches your neck throbbing. Your chest heaving.

He watches where his cock is digging into you.

“I'm not gonna last. Can you give me one more, baby?”

“Yeah, it's... yes.”

He lies back on you, eyes locked on yours, and slides his arms under your shoulders. Your hot, sweaty chests rub against each other. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he thrusts into you, his shaft rubbing exactly where you need it. Your fingers dig into his flesh as you come on his shaft and he stops moving. Eager to keep watching you twitch beneath him, but trying not to come too. Not yet, not inside you. He wants to let you come until the shaking stops.

He looks at you, and focuses on a mole, chosen at random. To focus on something else, than your pussy perfectly squeezing him. When your trembling finally stops, he grabs his cock hastily, just in time before his cum coats the inside of your thighs and your lower stomach, then his heavy body rests against yours.

“Christ, sweetheart… that was amazing,” he says, smiling at you. You kiss and then nestle against his chest. You feel his heart beat hard, then gradually calm down. You fall asleep without even realizing it.

When you wake up, it’s daylight. The smell of coffee rushes into your nostrils. For a moment, it’s like life is almost normal.

You sit up in bed, holding the blanket against you.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says. Smiling, warm. Joel.

You smile back at him, thinking that you would like to wake up next to him every single day, from now on.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring @iamasaddie

npt: tagging those who showed interest in the wip wednesday post, love you ❤️

@mountainsandmayhem @thundermartini @schnarfer @itwasntimethatdidit40 @sawymredfox

@almostfoxglove @604to647 @ace-turned-confused @pascalssbabyy @pedrospatch

@mermaidgirl30

1K notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 16 days ago

Text

For Life

Request: Yes or No

Summary: The Wolverine was unmatched in the fighting ring, until a new face arrived and turned his life upside down.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical X-Men Warnings, lots of blood mentions, violence/fighting, both fluff and angst, Logan being as whipped as he was for Jean with (Y/N), age gap cause Logan is super fucking old lmao, more so snippets/a concept over a full fledged fic.

divider by cafekitsune!

~~~

Wolverines generally avoid humans in the wild but are known to be particularly aggressive and even dangerous when cornered or provoked, prompting them to put those sharp canines and claws to work. Wolverines are known for their incredible strength and stamina, but mostly for their infamous ferocity. Despite their reputation as ill-tempered loners, wolverines are known to be social with others and will form lifelong relationships with their mates.

It'd been a cold evening in Laughlin City and most of the bar's patrons had shuffled into the establishment with their faces nearly hidden behind hoods and scarves as they scrambled to get out of the snow and chilling winds. The occasional gust of wind blowing in whenever the door opened left patrons simultaneously groaning in complaint but the heater emitting warm air kept their grumbling and huffing to a minimum. The nipping cold had soured many moods, and Logan could see many men itching to forget about the cold with an adrenaline-pumping fight. He was just eager to make an easy buck.

He braced an arm against one of the cage's support beams and watched with a hint of a smirk as his latest opponent staggered out of the cage, his buddies narrowly catching him before he could plummet onto the hardwood floor and further batter his face. The locals eyed him with a certain disdain, certain suspicion, but he put up good enough entertainment for them to tolerate him. He sniffed, hardly phased by the punches he'd taken during the fight, and nodded to the referee.

"Does anyone else dare-"

"I'll have a go."

Logan immediately craned his head to eye the voice's owner, foreign and new to Laughlin City. He'd been participating in cage fights long enough to begin memorizing the locals, and the fresh face staring back at him was an utter stranger. Passing by Laughlin City, Logan assumed, but he lacked the particular smell of gas, car air freshener, and look of exhaustion to be a trucker like most of the patrons taking up seats around them. He observed him, taking in every inch of his new opponent as he rounded the cage. He seemed young, but then again, so did Logan.

"Name's (Y/N)." He said, staring Logan in the eyes as he shed his jacket and shirt. Someone nearby took both articles of clothing for him, likely eager to see what he'd do, or how he'd go down. Logan had managed to break two noses and chip a few teeth already, one could only wonder what he'd do next. "Nice to meet you, Wolverine."

Logan simply grunted and pushed himself off the support beam, rolling his neck and curling his fingers into tight fists. (Y/N) grinned at him, almost arrogantly, but not with the usual cockiness of a man who thought himself the toughest guy in Alberta. He appeared... too calm for Logan's liking, but once the referee stepped out of the cage and closed the door, he decided to focus on beating his face in instead.

They circled each other first, eyes raking over the other from head to toe in search of a weakness to exploit, of a twitch that'd give away their next move. Logan could hear the muttering of the crowd, the impatient tap of fingers and boots, and the intensity in their stares. His eyes flickered away briefly, and he immediately cursed his mistake when (Y/N) lunged. Despite a part of him urging him to dodge or block, he remained still, expecting (Y/N)'s knuckles to break upon impact but instead, his fist connected effectively with Logan's jaw and he nearly stumbled onto the floor.

Managing to catch himself as scattered gasps echoed from the crowd, Logan grazed his fingers over his aching jaw and raised his head to look at the man. Mutant. No human had ever taken a swing at him without immediately spraining or breaking something, let alone been able to make his head turn with a punch. The corner of his lips twitched up into a smirk and the crowd erupted into cheers, primarily egging (Y/N) on to beat him to a pulp; Logan wanted to see him try.

The ache in his jaw faded swiftly, just in time for Logan to take a swing at (Y/N) and see how much he could tank. (Y/N) dodged his quick swings efficiently, taking steps back each time before he caught Logan's forearm and swiftly spun, his back pressing to Logan's chest before Logan was promptly hauled over his body. He collided with the floor, the cage trembling as if an earthquake had struck, and Logan doubted it'd be able to take the weight of his body a second time without damage. (Y/N) flashed another little grin down at him but instead of taking advantage of his momentary shock, he took a step back and allowed him to get up.

A professionally trained mutant, Logan deduced when he got to his feet, intriguing. And worrisome. He hardly needed a group of mutants on his ass begging him to join them.

"You ready to give up your title of champion, big guy?" (Y/N) questioned with a hint of a mocking coo, his words rowdying up the same crowd who'd turn on him if they learned of his mutant abilities, although Logan guessed they likely already suspected and merely wanted to see him hurt for a change. Challenging in his tone but his eyes studied Logan with a degree of curiosity he typically never saw in others.

"We're just gettin' started, bud."

"Even better."

Everything afterward felt like a whirlwind of punching, kicking, dodging, and blocking; Logan's favorite sort of dance, and one that'd hopefully end with some cash in his pocket and a well-deserved cigar. He managed to maneuver (Y/N) around, his arm coiling around his neck to put him in a headlock most wouldn't survive. (Y/N) pressed back against him, forcing them to stumble backward until Logan's back collided with the cage's wall that miraculously managed to stay put without giving out on them both. Logan released a guttural groan when (Y/N)'s short blunt nails dug into his skin, leaving bright red marks behind with specks of blood that only made him tighten his hold.

"Anything goes, right?" (Y/N) wheezed, his palm pressing against Logan's arm, a chill shooting down Logan's spine when it slowly moved on its own and gave him enough space to catch his breath without the pressure on his throat.

"The hell-"

Straightening his knees and tossing his head back into Logan's face, Logan cursed and released him fully to bring a hand to his nose. He covered it, waiting for it to heal without catching the eye of the people around but (Y/N) gave him no time to recover. He spun on his heel and took another swing at him, bringing his knee up into Logan's stomach when he doubled over and then slamming the bottom of his boot into the side of his face. His head slammed against a support beam and he groaned, the aches and pains healing rapidly but before he could stand up, he realized his body refused to follow his wishes.

"Giving up yet, big guy?" (Y/N) asked with a tilt of his head, eyes glinting with newfound warning. "We'll be here all night at this rate."

Logan swallowed, a hint of panic surging forward at his inability to move and the mystery surrounding the powers being used against him. Some sort of mental ability, he guessed, but whatever it was he disliked it tenfold. Logan grinded his teeth in frustration and begrudgingly nodded. "Fine," He grunted and sighed in relief when (Y/N) released whatever hold he had on him, allowing his body to relax and slump.

While, yes, losing a fight was a bruise to his pride, Logan found himself more intrigued by the fellow mutant, if not more cautious. With the sky darkening outside, Logan retreated from the cage to collect his belongings and ordered some beer while he watched (Y/N) at the other end of the bar. Once the bartender placed the beer down, he scooped it up in his hand and rounded the bar toward him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the men who clapped (Y/N) on the shoulder as if he'd done everyone a service. He waited, though, for everyone to be out of earshot.

"How'd you do it?" Logan questioned quietly, chugging back some beer and smacking his lips as it flowed down his throat. (Y/N) fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, sparing him an amused glance and an arched brow. "The whole- the whole body thing. What is it? Some sort of telekinesis?"

"How about you walk me to my motel and I'll tell you all about it?" (Y/N) grinned again, eyes crinkling despite the way they'd been going at each other moments prior, and he turned toward the exit with a beckoning nod. Reaching into his pocket, Logan jingled the keys to his old, busted RV and watched his grin widen.

Out in the cold night, semi-trucks passed them by on the icy roads beside the snow-tipped bar. (Y/N) tugged his hoodie over his head, keeping it on when he sat in the passenger seat and relished the light heat that filled the RV once Logan turned it on. Logan glanced at him, eyeing his light attire once more but keeping his questions to himself despite curiosity knawing at him insistently. He kept his eyes on the road, careful to avoid going at a speed that'd have them sliding into the forest around them.

"It's not telekinesis." (Y/N) muttered, reaching out and fiddling with the radio dials until he found a decent station. "I.. I controlled your blood. It's not as, uh, clean and pretty as telepathy or telekinesis but it's pretty useful in most cases. I can sense when someone's sick, too, or even help with cuts and infections. I'd make a pretty decent surgeon, honestly." He gave a small chuckle.

Logan snorted, though some unease settled in the pit of his stomach. "Yeah? How'd you figure out you had it?" Logan glanced at him again and immediately noticed the way his features fell.

"It's not a pretty story." He sighed softly, his head tilting to watch the trees and snow pass them by in a mixed blur. "Let's just say, some of my blood got out of my body and I panicked.. and it started levitating... anyways, enough about me, big guy. What's your thing? It can't just be that super-healing thing, right?"

Pursing his lips, Logan clutched the wheel with one hand and curled the other one into a fist. From the corner of his eye, he watched his claws slide out and then swallowed when (Y/N)'s features brightened. Gentle fingers wrapped around his hand and Logan retracted the claws, an unfamiliar feeling swirling in his stomach as he felt (Y/N) run his fingertips over his skin, tracing his knuckles and then the veins along the back of his hand. It'd been a while since he last left a gentle touch, and a quiet part in the back of his mind almost considered him unworthy of it.

"My name's Logan." He grunted softly, the typical tension he always carried fading with each delicate caress.

"Well, Logan," (Y/N) lifted his head with a cheeky smile on his face, his thumb pressing into one of the veins and drawing Logan's eyes toward him. "You mind keeping me company tonight? Or do you have someone you have to get back to?"

"No," Logan's lips tugged upward. "I've got time."

The motel was as rundown as Logan expected, dimly lit hallways occasionally plunging into darkness when the light flickered above them, and the curiosity surged forward again, prodding him to question where the mutant had come from or why he'd chosen Laughlin City of all places to stay in. But (Y/N) gave him no time to dwell further on it, the back of his foot kicking the door shut behind them before his hands grasped the collar of Logan's coat and pulled him in.

There was a dangerous addictiveness and allure to (Y/N), from the way he effortlessly danced the line between sweet and rough: a kiss full of tongues and teeth and nips but smoothed over by gentle fingers massaging the muscle of his biceps when Logan slid his coat off, only for those same fingers to slip through his brown strands and tug. It triggered something within Logan, a growl emitting from his throat as broad hands grasped at the other's hips and drew a breathless laugh from (Y/N).

As much as he enjoyed considering himself a lone wolf, the brief connection with others during one-night stands always reminded him he was still partly human, even when others considered him a savage brute. He savored it, savored when he had (Y/N) on his lap, his chest rising and falling with heaves and lips parted to release low grunts and groans. He savored the feeling of (Y/N)'s arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely, his breath fanning against his ear and allowing Logan to hear every noise he exhaled. He savored the ability to dig his fingers into soft flesh without worry, or sink his teeth into (Y/N)'s collarbone and feel the mark heal beneath his lips. He mostly savored the addictive warmth encircling him and the pleasure that made his thighs tremble.

His arms tightened around (Y/N), pressing him close to his chest, and captured his lips to swallow another whine. For the first time in who knows how long, he found himself hoping he'd see more of (Y/N) around.

But after a few days, the mutant disappeared from Alberta, and a week later Logan took a girl by the name of Rogue under his wing.

"You may see another familiar face here."

Logan turned his attention away from the mutant children, trying to ignore the way his heart warmed at the sight of them living happy lives without the threat of danger from those who despised them for simply existing. He searched the outer yard for any sign of Marie, but he assumed she was likely still getting acclimated to her new home at the school, and finally peered down at Charles questioningly. Charles smiled knowingly and motioned off to the side.

"While I prefer having (Y/N) here for his safety, he enjoys venturing out to help others. I hear you two became acquainted while he was away." Charles spoke, and without thinking twice, Logan's head snapped in the direction he'd pointed in, his heart leaping into his throat at the sight of (Y/N) walking toward him with that godforsaken grin that'd plagued Logan's thoughts and dreams for weeks. "(Y/N) has called this school home for many years, and he often helps with the more severe injuries. I'll allow you two a moment to... catch up."

(Y/N) nodded to Charles as they walked past each other before stopping in front of Logan and crossing his arms over his chest, his head tilting playfully to the side and eyes drinking him in. "It's nice seeing you again, Logan." He stepped closer, eyes lifting to meet his once more. "Here I was thinking about taking a drive back to Alberta. Guess you must've read my mind."

"Pretty sure that's Charles's thing," Logan replied, pressing this thumb into (Y/N)'s chin and curling the rest of his fingers under it. He had to, otherwise he would've convinced himself he was imagining things, that the mutant who'd managed to make him laugh and smile was still miles away someplace else. "What were you doin' in Alberta?"

"I heard rumors and whispers about a man down in Laughlin City and thought I'd see what all the fuss was about. I would've asked you to come back with me but.. that didn't seem like the type of pillow talk you'd appreciate." He explained softly, leaning into Logan's touch and closing his eyes briefly when Logan pressed his palm fully against his cheek, still caught in the fleeting worry he'd wake up and find himself on the side of the icy road with Marie nowhere in sight. "You're here now, though." His eyes opened. "Are you staying?"

"I don't-"

"Oh, come on," (Y/N) scoffed lightly, warmly, and moved in even closer. "It's nice here, Logan. I can finish showing you around and we'll find something for you to do. The food's good, the rooms are nice, and it's... freshening to hear the laughter of kids finally being happy. You'd make a helluva teacher, I bet. Everyone's favorite." His genuine tone shifted into a teasing one, laughing softly when Logan rolled his eyes.

Lifting his brows, Logan smirked and brought him close, itching to close the distance despite a heated voice in his head telling him he didn't deserve the warmth and acceptance. "We can start and end the tour in the dorms-"

"Only if you promise to stay." (Y/N) cooed, tilting his head away to dodge a kiss but he allowed himself to be tugged into an embrace. His arms curled around Logan's shoulders, lips drawing back into a wide smile before he planted a kiss on the corner of Logan's lips. "If you stay, we can finish what we started... and see where it goes."

Logan leaned back, his brows twitching down into a furrow but (Y/N)'s grip around his shoulders tightened, forcing him to stay and not flee from his words. He swallowed, conflicted in the way his brain and heart battled. Half of him screamed at him to leave, to go before he could mess everything up but another part desperately clung to the idea of staying and finally having a place to call home, finally having a person to call home.

He noted the flicker of uncertainty in (Y/N)'s features following his silence, felt him beginning to draw back from the embrace. Logan secured his arms around him and allowed a ghost of a smile to slip. "Yeah," He murmured, weakly at first. "I'd like that."

Truthfully, Logan hadn't been fully listening to what Scott- or well, what Cyclops had spoken about in the briefing about their latest mission. He'd heard the usual 'group of anti-mutants' and promptly tuned out afterward in favor of soaking in how (Y/N) looked in the dark suit, though noted somewhat glumly how it didn't allow him to wear the engagement ring. His staring hadn't gone unnoticed given the amused glances Jean stole and the exasperated exhale from Cyclops before they were dropped near the location of the warehouse.

"Good luck, Lo." (Y/N) whispered to him, planting a kiss on his cheek and dragging his fingers over Logan's beard with a mischievous glint in his pretty (E/C) eyes.

They'd separated pretty soon after, splitting up to cover more ground given the amount of people working with the group. It hadn't taken long at all for the fighting to begin, and despite Cyclops pushing for them to use as little force as possible, Logan couldn't help bruising and cutting a few people up. He managed to knock out a gunman when he heard the distinctive clap of thunder. Amusement had him cracking a grin followed by pity toward whichever fool dared face against Storm, but then he heard her shriek:

"(Y/N)!"

Too high-pitched, loud, and full of horror for Logan to brush aside as a warning call. His footsteps thundered throughout the halls as he moved, shoving and swinging his claws at anyone who stood in his way until he stumbled upon the sight, eyes immediately finding (Y/N) on his knees with Storm beside him. Logan beelined toward them, dropping into a crouch and promptly feeling a wave of nausea pass over him at the sight of (Y/N) blood-stained hands grasping desperately at his throat.

"They-" Storm swallowed thickly, her chest rising and falling with panic. "They shot him. He- He can't heal with the bullet-"

"Darlin'," Logan exhaled shakily, pulling him swiftly into his arms and attempting to keep his composure despite the wheezy exhales and gurgles filling his ears. Blood spread across his throat, blobs of it levitating only to lose their perfectly round form and fall onto the floor with splatters each time (Y/N) grimaced. "I know it hurts but you have to focus on gettin' the bullet out. Baby, hey, focus."

(Y/N) stared up at him, wide eyes filling with tears and shoulders shaking with his hiccups and trembles. The red tint of blood on his lips filled Logan with a familiar sense of dread, his arms holding him tighter so (Y/N) wouldn't feel him trembling as well. He watched the blood oozing out of the wound rise, oddly shaped and raised while he worked on shoving the lodged bullet out of his throat before he choked to death on the very thing he could control. He wheezed and coughed occasionally, droplets of blood flinging onto Logan's cheek and coloring his beard but he paid it no mind.

Storm fiddled with her earpiece, stuttering out explanations to Jean and Cyclops and urging them to move quicker. Logan thumbed away the tears that slipped down his (S/C) skin, forcing himself to give encouraging nods and smiles despite the hurricane threatening to break within his chest.

(Y/N) tilted his chin up toward him and Logan swooped in eagerly, kissing him despite the blood that danced on his tongue afterward. He heard the familiar clatter of metal falling onto the floor and leaned back, eyes flickering around frantically until he spotted the bloody bullet rolling around beside them.

"Hey, hey, you did it. You-"

Storm exhaled shakily. "Logan."

Logan's head snapped back toward (Y/N)'s face, first noticing the dullness in his eyes and then the way blood continued freely oozing from the wound. He stared at him, his mind struggling to comprehend the limpness in (Y/N)'s body and the stillness of his chest, the world around him slowly coming to a standstill. Storm's sniffling cries and the frantic questions from Jean and Cyclops as they finally arrived became distant, unable to focus on anything but (Y/N).

"Hey..." Logan exhaled, cupping his cheek as his brows furrowed into a tight-knit. "Hey, hey, hey, you- you can't do this." He furiously blinked away the tears that glazed over his vision, rubbing his thumb into (Y/N)'s cheek and waiting for him to nuzzle into his touch as he always did, but it never came. "You can't do this. You can't-" Logan cradled his body against his chest, burying his face into his collarbone as he'd done dozens of times before. (Y/N) remained unresponsive, his arms falling limply at his sides from Logan's movements.

"You can't do this to me. You promised you'd never leave."

415 notes · View notes

sushiyuzu · 2 months ago

Text

fluffy moment with lads men

sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel & caleb

sylus

the snow crunches under your boots as you walk through the park, your breath coming out in soft puffs of mist. the trees are bare, their branches dusted with fresh snow, and the entire world feels quiet, like it's wrapped in a soft, cold blanket.

beside you, sylus walks with his hands in his pockets, his red eyes scanning the winter landscape. the park is almost empty, save for a few scattered figures in the distance, but it feels like it’s just the two of you, isolated in this snowy world.

you pull your coat tighter, but the wind still bites at your face and fingers. despite the beauty of the park, the cold is starting to get to you. you rub your hands together, trying to generate some warmth, but it’s no use.

sylus, ever observant, notices. he pauses mid-step, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. without a word, he pulls off his thick black jacket and steps closer to you.

“here,” he says quietly, draping it over your shoulders before you can protest.

the warmth of his jacket is immediate, the heavy material shielding you from the wind. you blink, looking up at him as you pull the jacket tighter around yourself. it’s big on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but it’s soft and still warm from his body heat.

“but what about you?” you ask, your voice small against the quiet of the park.

sylus shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “i’m fine, sweetie. you looked like you needed it more.”

you feel your heart skip a beat at his words. it’s such a simple gesture, but it carries more weight than he realizes. the park feels even quieter now, the only sound the distant whistle of the wind and the soft rustle of his jacket as you shift it on your shoulders.

“thanks,” you mumble, your cheeks warming despite the cold. you glance at him, and for a second, you think you see a flicker of something soft in his expression before he turns away.

“don’t mention it,” he says, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile as he continues walking.

you follow him, the snow crunching beneath your feet once more, but now the cold doesn’t seem so bad. with his jacket wrapped around you, it feels like a shield, not just from the wind, but from the distance you’ve always felt between the two of you.

for the rest of the walk, you stay close to him, savoring the warmth of the jacket and the quiet comfort of his presence.

zayne

the door to your quarters slides open, and zayne steps inside, holding a small, white plushie in his hands. his face shows a mix of anticipation and amusement as he approaches you.

“hey,” he says, a playful grin on his lips. “i got something for you.”

you look at the plushie, a cute white seal with big, round eyes and a little blue bow around its neck. “what’s this?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

“i won it from an arcade machine,” zayne explains, holding it out to you. “i thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

you take the plushie, feeling its soft, plushy fur against your fingers. it’s surprisingly well-made, and its cheerful face immediately brings a smile to your own.

“this is adorable,” you say, hugging the plushie to your chest. “thank you, zayne. it’s perfect.”

zayne’s grin widens, clearly pleased by your reaction. “i thought it might cheer you up. and, well, i couldn’t resist getting it for you.”

you look up at him, touched by the gesture. “it definitely brightened my day. it’s nice to know you thought of me.”

“i’m glad you like it,” he says, taking a step closer. “i just wanted to give you something to make you smile.”

you sit down, holding the plushie close. zayne sits next to you, and the two of you share a quiet moment. the plushie rests between you, a small symbol of his thoughtfulness and affection.

“it’s going to have a special place,” you say, gently patting the plushie. “thank you for this.”

zayne nods, a soft smile on his face. “you’re welcome. i’m just happy it made you smile.”

the warmth of the moment, coupled with the simple joy of the gift, creates a tender connection between you. the white seal plushie becomes a comforting reminder of zayne’s care and the special bond you share.

xavier

you step into xavier’s cozy apartment, the familiar scent of his place welcoming you. it’s warm and inviting, with soft lighting casting a gentle glow over the room. he’s already there, preparing a pot of hot cocoa on the kitchen counter.

“hey,” he says with a smile as you enter. “i thought we could use some hot cocoa and a warm blanket tonight.”

you smile back, appreciating the thoughtfulness. “that sounds perfect.”

xavier pours two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, carefully adding marshmallows on top before handing one to you. he gestures to the living area, where a soft, knitted blanket is spread out on the couch.

“make yourself comfortable,” he says, settling onto the couch and patting the space next to him.

you take a seat beside him, feeling the warmth from the cocoa cup seep into your hands. the blanket is cozy and inviting, and you both wrap it around yourselves as you settle in.

“this is really nice,” you say, taking a sip of the hot cocoa. the rich chocolate flavor is comforting, and the warmth spreads through you.

“i’m glad you think so,” xavier replies, his voice soft as he takes a sip from his own mug. “i wanted to do something relaxing for us.”

you both sit together, the blanket cocooning you in warmth. you chat about your day, and the conversation flows easily, the comfort of the setting making it easy to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

as the evening progresses, you find yourself leaning closer to xavier, feeling content and at ease. he occasionally brushes a strand of hair from your face or gives you a reassuring smile, his presence making you feel cherished.

the hot cocoa eventually disappears, but the warmth of the moment lingers. you both stay wrapped in the blanket, enjoying the peaceful evening together, the simple pleasure of each other’s company making the night feel special.

“thanks for tonight,” you say softly, looking up at him with a smile. “it’s exactly what i needed.”

xavier’s eyes meet yours, and he returns your smile with a gentle one of his own. “i’m happy to hear that. it’s always nice to spend time like this with you.”

the evening continues with quiet conversation and shared laughter, the warmth of the blanket and the cocoa only adding to the comfort of being together. it’s a perfect, simple moment that you’ll cherish.

rafayel

rafayel takes your hand and leads you to a picturesque spot by the edge of a serene lake. the early morning sun casts a warm, golden glow over the landscape, making the scene look like something out of a dream. he sets up his easel and canvas with practiced ease, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“i thought we could spend the day here,” rafayel says, his voice soft and filled with anticipation. “it’s one of my favorite places to paint. i hope you like it.”

you look around and see the vibrant colors of the flowers and the gentle ripples on the lake’s surface. it’s a perfect setting, and you smile at him. “it’s beautiful. i’d love to be here with you.”

he hands you a blanket and a small basket of snacks he prepared. “while i paint, you can relax or explore a bit. let me know if you need anything.”

you settle on the blanket, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere as rafayel begins to work on his painting. you watch him with admiration as he skillfully captures the scene on his canvas. his movements are fluid and graceful, and he hums softly to himself as he paints.

occasionally, he glances over at you with a smile, and you return it, feeling content. the sound of nature around you is soothing, and you feel a sense of tranquility.

after a while, rafayel finishes his painting and walks over to you, holding the canvas with a proud smile. “what do you think?”

you look at the painting and see that it beautifully captures the essence of the place—vivid colors, gentle brushstrokes, and a sense of serenity. “it’s amazing,” you say. “you’ve really brought the scene to life.”

he sits down beside you, and you both enjoy the snacks he prepared. as you eat, you share stories and talk about your dreams and plans. the easy conversation and laughter make the day even more special.

as the sun begins to set, casting a warm, orange hue over the lake, rafayel leans closer to you. “i’m really glad we did this,” he says softly. “spending time like this with you means a lot to me.”

you lean against him, feeling a deep sense of happiness. “me too. today has been perfect.”

you both watch as the sky changes colors, the peaceful moment marking the end of a beautiful day together. the memory of this day, with its simple pleasures and intimate connection, will stay with you long after the sun has set.

caleb

caleb arrives at your place with an excited grin, holding a pair of tickets for a festival happening on skyhaven. “hey pip-squeak, i thought we could check out the annual skyhaven festival tonight.” he says, his enthusiasm contagious. “it’s supposed to be amazing this year.”

you can’t help but smile at his excitement. “that sounds great! i’ve heard a lot about it but never been.”

you both head to the festival, and the moment you step out of the transport pod, you’re greeted by a vibrant display of lights and colors. the festival is bustling with activity, with stalls and booths set up everywhere, offering a variety of foods, games, and attractions.

caleb takes your hand and leads you through the crowd. “let’s start with the food stalls,” he suggests. “i heard they have some new dishes this year.”

you follow him to a stall that offers a mix of traditional and exotic treats. you both sample different dishes, laughing and sharing bites of your favorites. caleb’s eyes light up every time he tries something new, and he’s eager to hear your thoughts on each dish.

after enjoying the food, you move on to some of the festival’s games and attractions. caleb challenges you to a friendly competition at a ring toss booth, and you both cheer each other on as you try to win prizes. caleb’s playful nature and genuine encouragement make the experience even more enjoyable.

as the evening progresses, the festival features a stunning light show that transforms the sky into a canvas of vibrant colors. caleb finds a perfect spot where you both have an unobstructed view. he wraps his arm around you as you both gaze up at the mesmerizing display.

“this is incredible,” you say, leaning against him. “i’m so glad you brought me here.”

caleb smiles and gives you a gentle squeeze. “i’m really happy you’re enjoying it. i wanted to share this with you because it’s one of my favorite events.”

the festival continues with music, dancing, and fireworks. caleb pulls you onto the dance floor, and you both move together to the rhythm of the lively tunes. the joy and excitement of the festival make you feel like you’re floating in a world of pure happiness.

as the night draws to a close, caleb takes you to a quieter corner of the festival where you can sit and relax. the two of you share a moment of calm, watching the last of the fireworks and enjoying the peaceful end to a fantastic evening.

“thank you for tonight,” you say softly, leaning into him. “it’s been amazing.”

caleb looks at you with a warm smile. “i’m glad you had a great time. it’s been perfect because i got to spend it with you.”

the festival may be over, but the memories of the night and the connection you shared linger, making it a special and unforgettable experience.

434 notes · View notes

berlinini · 2 years ago

Text

genuinely wondering how and why Louis and Oli are NEVER dressed in an weather appropriate manner...

#i have never seen men wear t-shirts outside under the rain/cold/snow that often like were is your jacket???#and i say this as a canadian #and then he's wearing long sleeves in the middle of summer??#he's lucky he's cute

1 note · View note

hypewinter · 1 year ago

Text

Dick stared out at the snowy landscape past the window before turning back to his new baby brother. Danny was sitting in his high chair, happily munching away at some Cheerios. Looking at him now Dick thought back to how he had come to Wayne Manor just a few months prior.

Bruce had stormed into the Manor after coming back from a Justice League mission with a bundle in his hands. Dick who had stopped by the manor to steal food catch up with Alfred had been thoroughly thrown off by his father's open animosity. He could hardly recall the last time he'd seen Bruce this outwardly furious. The man's glare alone could rival Darkseid's omega beams. As Bruce sat down at the table, the two men finally got a good look at just what he was carrying. It was an infant. An infant who was fast asleep, his soft black hair falling over his eyes. Bruce quietly asked Alfred to prepare a room as well as all necessities needed for a baby. The old butler had immediately set off to just that.

Meanwhile Dick was quick to ask what had happened but Bruce didn't say. Even when the others gradually found what was happening and asked their own questions, he still refused to answer. Not even Alfred had been told where the baby had come from. The only information Bruce had offered up was that the baby's name was Danny and he would be staying at the Manor from now on. As for the rest of the details, he claimed he would tell them in due time. But Batman's "due time" was often too late to actually do anything about it so desperate for answers, the family had turned to their own investigations only to come up with nothing.

All files related to Danny were locked behind a mountain of firewalls and Oracle had apparently already been sworn to secrecy by the big man himself. Whatever it was, Bruce wanted absolutely zero interference, so for now, the family was forced to sit in their hands.

That led till now, 5 months later. It was mid-January and Dick was on babysitting duty. Everyone else was either out running errands or on a mission. Not that Dick minded though. Danny was incredibly cute and he loved taking care of him. Besides, it gave him the perfect opportunity to get Danny to see him as the favorite brother. Still, Dick couldn't help but feel couped up today. Maybe it was because it had been snowing the last few days leaving both boys alone in the giant manor all day long.

Dick stared wistfully out the window once again before an idea dawned on him. He turned back to Danny who had stuffed the last of the Cheerios into his mouth along with his entire hand.

"Hey Danny. Wanna have a snow day?" he asked cheerily. The boy cocked his head at Dick, hand still in mouth. Dick smiled wider. "I'll take that as a yes!"

Dick hoisted Danny out of his high chair and carried him upstairs to his room. After he set Danny down in his crib, he grabbed all the gear he needed. He picked out a long sleeve shirt with a cartoon star and big bold letters reading "You're a Star!" He also grabbed long socks, some elastic pants as well as jeans, a scarf, a blue beanie, and a pair of cute little mittens.

It didn't take long for Danny to be fully dressed for the outside elements. Though after Dick finished putting his shoes on, he squirmed a little and made a face.

"I know I know," Dick cooed. "But I'm pretty sure B. would make an exception to his 'no killing rule' if you got sick on my watch."

Dick admired his handy work for a minute (taking dozens of pictures as he did so) before picking his brother up and heading downstairs. After a quick pitstop at the door to grab his own jacket and gloves from the coat rack, he opened the door and greeted the chilly air outside.

Danny giggled as he reached up at the snow while Dick circled around to the side of the manor.

"Bitey! Bitey!" he squealed.

"Yep, Bitey," Dick replied with mild confusion.

Danny would say random things like that sometimes, forcing the world's greatest detectives to put their minds together in order to figure out what he was talking about. One time he just wouldn't stop saying "Em". It took everyone a whole day to realize he was referring to music. And an extra two days to figure out he was specifically referring to pop music.

Oftentimes he would call Barbara "Jazzy" and Duke "Tuck". On occasion he would even call Cass "Sammy". Every time he called something a new name, it was a race to figure out what he meant. Each time they figured out a new word, Bruce's face would darken and he'd disappear off to the Watchtower for the day. Something that was really starting to drag on Dick's nerves. It was like it was physically impossible for that man to share information.

Dick was startled out of his thoughts by a tug at his jacket and looked down to see Danny staring at him.

"Sorry sorry," he said with a smile. "Lost in my thoughts. Forgive me?"

Danny put on a pout but Dick knew by now that it was fake. One could tell by the mischievous look in the boy's eyes that he just couldn't hide. "So be it then!" Dick declared before pulling Danny close and snuggling into him. The boy shrieked as cold nose touched warm neck. "Fo-give! Fo-give!" he cried.

"Aw thanks," Dick said as he pulled away. Danny giggled again, his bright blue eyes crinkling with laughter.

The pair walked around in the snow for a bit longer before Danny started making grabby hands towards the ground. "You want down?" Dick asked. Danny nodded energetically.

"Alright."

Dick carefully set Danny down in the snow. The boy excitedly wriggled before putting his hands down to the snow. As Dick watched, there was a burst of light and suddenly there was a semi circle of ice, radiating out from their position. Dick stared at the ice in shock. Danny turned and blinked up at Dick, almost as if he were in shock too. But he very quickly went back to playing in the snow. Dick swallowed. Sure they all knew Danny had powers. It was pretty obvious when the third day there, he floated up to the ceiling. Still though, he highly doubted ice powers was up there on anyone's list of "abilities our new baby brother might manifest next."

Dick was so shocked all he could manage to utter was, "Huh. That's new."

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

2K notes · View notes

thealbatrovss · 2 months ago

Text

snow angel // logan howlett x reader

summary: you try and ask logan out. when did he start making snow angels?

oneshot- a little angst and then just pure fluff.

word count - 1k+

masterlist

The bar was loud. Your heart was beating even louder.

Logan sat at the very end of the counter. His leather jacket hung over his seat. He was trying to light his cigarette. The bartender was telling him to knock it off. He cursed. “What kind of bar doesn’t let you smoke?”

“This one.” The older woman plucked it out of his mouth before he could take the first inhale. He rolled his eyes, sipping on his beer, catching your stare.

You shrug your condolences, face warming up and turned away. You wore your best outfit tonight. One that made you feel confident. And you were going to need all the confidence you could get.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, but you were going to ask him out tonight. After years of lingering glances, flirting on missions, shoulder brushes and hallway conversations, it was well past time. You always thought he’d be the first to initiate any sort of conversation about it. But that never came.

It scared you, making you go through every single interaction you had with him. Did you remember all those moments wrong? Were you really just friends?

No. You weren’t wrong. Something was brewing between the both of you, and you had to be the one that challenged the storm.

Yet, here you were, stuck picking at the wooden board beneath you as you both drank by yourselves.

Underneath all that rough exterior you found a soft man who would do anything for the ones he loved. You saw it in the way he stepped up whenever The X Men needed help. Whenever a student failed, he told them to get back up again.

He was kind. Much kinder than the winter blizzard raging outside. Even if he didn’t always show it, you felt it.

After saving your ass during this afternoons mission, you offered to repay him with a drink. He of course couldn’t say no to that. Especially since you were paying.

That left you in the present, seated across the bar away from him. Alone. There were only a few seats left and none of them were next to each other. So you continued to stir your fruity drink, leg bouncing up and down aggressively.

It couldn't be that hard. You were an adult, god dammit. All you needed was a little drink and you’d be sharp and on your feet, walking over to him. Too bad you were nursing a third.

The man seated next to you shot you a glare, as if he were telling you to stop hitting his seat. You mouthed a couple, “sorrys,” and turned back to Logan.

He was with a woman. A very beautiful woman. She was sitting right by him. Somehow she was able to convince the man next to Logan to switch her seats. The man seemed dejected as her full attention turned to your teammate and friend.

You tried not to give in to the nagging insecurities and the, “I told you sos,” festering in your mind. But then she put her hand over his and he didn’t even bother to move it. He actually smiled a bit. Or was that the alcohol making you see things?

“This was stupid,” you mumbled, wanting to fold into yourself. The room was hot, almost suffocating.

Jackie stopped cleaning out the glasses in her hands and turned to talk to you. “What’s stupid?”

“Nothing, Jackie.”

“The drink I made? You better still give me a tip.”

“Of course I will.” You handed her some cash, not really caring how much you gave her.

She stuffed it into her pocket. “Is everything okay? You’re usually a pain in the ass.”

You scoffed, rubbing your hands together anxiously. The woman was giggling now. You didn't have the strength to see Logan’s reaction. Nor did you want to. “Thanks for that.”

“Hey, I'd take pain in the ass drunk any day over whatever wallowing you’re doing over here. What’s going on?”

You downed your last drink in a few gulps, letting the alcohol sting. “Sometimes you’re just too late is all.”

Then, with a wave goodbye, you put on your coat, and headed back to the car. You’d wait there, see if Logan would come out to greet you with a drunk smile soon to fade due to his regeneration or you’d see his lips stuck to the women in the bar as they stumbled out the door. It hurt to think of the latter.

You sat in the freezing car, hoping the heat would kick in soon. The butterflies you felt when he was showing you how to play pool just an hour ago turned to snakes. Everything was uncomfortable. Your clothes, the weather, the leather seats, the heat finally hitting your cold face. You didn’t want to cry, but those drinks were very unforgiving.

The snow glistened in its furry. It didn’t take its time reaching the ground, it came down with no mercy. The light of Jackie’s Bar was blurry against the tumbling snowflakes. You tried to make out the figure exiting the bar and standing in front of the car. The person moved soon after you could make out the yellow on his jacket.

“What the hell?”

Logan held his arms out in the furious weather, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. He shook his head, the white icy dancing off his hair. You could hear him shout something that sounded like your name before he fell onto his back in the powered snow.

You hurried out the car, wondering if Logan was really that drunk or if that even was Logan. But it was. And he was making snow angels. Well, he was trying to at least.

“Is this how you’re supposed to make them?” He moved his feet and hands at the same time but in the same direction, creating streaks on the ground. Nothing an angel would look like. “I’m not doing it correctly, am I?”

The cold nipped at your nose and ears, but the drinks thankfully kept you somewhat warm. You bit your lip. “You’ve never done one before?”

“Nope.” He continued to do every single step wrong and you continued to watch it happen. “This isn’t that fun.”

“When you’re a kid it’s everything.”

He sat up, looking over his shoulder at the work he did. “Well, I’ve been an adult way longer than I ever was a kid.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The snow started to slow down, gently drifting through the wind. Logan rubbed his legs like he was nervous to say something. “Why’d you come out here?”

You swallowed. It was so damn cold. “I could ask you the same thing?”

He shrugged. “Jackie dared me to.”

“Jackie?” You wondered. “Was she finding a way to get you out of her bar? What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.” He scratched the back of his head. “I think she knew I wasn’t really into that lady back there.”

You looked from the bar and back at the man sitting in the snow. “That’s surprising. I thought you two looked cute together.” You wanted to slap yourself. What was this self sabotaging? Maybe you just wanted to rip the bandaid off, finally be free of whatever was happening between the two of you.

Logan let out a laugh, shaking off the snow from his jacket in a pointless attempt. “I think the blizzard has frozen your brain. Just think about what I just said.”

You put your hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m not the one making snow angels well past midnight.”

“It got your attention though.” He pointed out.

You tilted your head to the side in defeat. “You always have my attention.” The filter inside your brain decided not to work apparently. Maybe it was frozen. Your eyes widened at the realization.

“Good.” It was only one word but he said it like it could and would fix anything. “We’re finally getting somewhere.” Logan stood up, inching closer. “I’d like to kiss you now. If that’s okay with you?”

And you nodded. It was the easiest thing in the world to agree too. You were shivering and it was so cold but he asked if he could kiss you and nothing else mattered in that moment.

When his lips finally touched yours it was soft and gentle. He held your cheeks with his fingers, they were surprisingly warm against your cool skin. The kiss grew more intense, the flick of his tongue sliding slowly against your bottom lip. Your hands found his hair, his found your waist. It was a kiss trying to soak up years of missed opportunities. Of late night talkings and infirmary visits. Missions gone wrong, missions gone right.

When you finally parted for air, his hands moved back to your cheeks. He smiled like the smile would never come off his face. “Next time you get jealous, just come and talk to me. You’re fun to talk to. More fun to kiss.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded in reply. “Does this mean alcohol angels next?”

He groaned at the joke, still smiling. “Come on. Let's get in the car before you freeze to death.”

#the wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #the wolverine #logan howlett #ravens masterlist

220 notes · View notes

rebelfell · 9 months ago

Text

bells will be ringing

crush!steve harrington x fem!reader x fwb!eddie munson

The annual Harrington Christmas Party is an elegant affair, complete with decorations, fancy food and flowing libations. But when your friend-slash-fuck buddy Eddie tires of you and Steve dancing around your burgeoning feelings for one another…he offers a creative solution.

Part One│Part Two

18+, MDNI 8k

cw: MMF, allusions to poverty and implied family strife, light alcohol and weed use, kinda mean/crass Eddie, semi-public fingering/oral (f receiving), r’s hair gets pulled once.

The Harrington’s were white light people.

There wasn’t a single inch of their stately home not adorned in festive finery for their annual Christmas party. It was all silver candlesticks with cream-colored tapers, deep red ribbons tied into bows and hung at perfectly spaced intervals, long garlands of rich greenery draped along the banisters—real as shit and smelling like a goddamn pine forest.

It was a far cry from what you and Eddie knew growing up next door to one another way on the other side of town. For you two, it was scrawny and half-dead trees purchased at a discount as close to Christmas as possible when their vendors were just trying to unload them, covered in a hodgepodge of homemade ornaments and faded multicolored lights, only about half of which worked half the time. When your families could afford a tree, that was.

The Harringtons’ own stood at the far end of the house, glowing bright as a nuclear reactor with seemingly endless strands of bright white lights wound around its branches. It was methodically decorated with matching red, silver and gold baubles, each one hung precisely in place and polished to gleaming perfection.

Elegant. Proper. Pristine.

The party was already well underway by the time you arrived, Steve nowhere to be found in the sea of people. They all stood together in clumps, exchanging jovial smiles that pushed up rosy cheeks, the women cooing over each other's outfits and jewelry while the men swapped stories about their quarterly earnings. Weaving through the throngs, cater waiters floated past carrying trays loaded with hors d’oeuvres and tall glasses of shimmery, bubbly liquid.

It made you and Eddie glance around, furtive and unsure as you skulked into the foyer. The two of you might as well have been invisible for all the attention anyone paid you.

“See Steve anywhere?” you asked, peering deeper inside the house.

The former stud of Hawkins High had always been easy to spot in the hallways of his former domain, seemingly towering over everyone even after he stopped sporting that gravity-defying bouffant hairstyle. Those days were long gone now, but an occasional glimmer of his old self would still shine through, reminding you of when King Steve reigned supreme.

“Nope, nowhere,” Eddie grumbled. “I told you this was a mistake.”

His warm breath on your ear as he leaned in to whisper in it had your head snapping to the side. Some of the snow that had just started to fall outside dusted his dark, unruly curls and he still had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as though he wanted to be ready to turn heel and run at the first opportunity. You’d seen him look more relaxed about to shoplift.

“What do you mean?”

“Look around, sweetheart. See if you can spot what doesn’t belong.”

It was kind of irritating how right he was. Everyone else in attendance tonight looked perfectly at home in this pretty picture. It was all business partners and their wives, clients who probably made more in a year than you or Eddie would hope to see in your entire lifetime, other miscellaneous friends and fellow members of the Hawkins upper echelon.

To call you fish out of water would be putting it lightly. You were like fish on a space station.

“What were we supposed to do?” you whispered back. “We had to come.”

That was debatable. Steve had invited you, yes, but he also practically tripped over himself to assure you it was totally fine if you couldn’t make it. He’d sat on the edge of Eddie’s sofa running through all his most blatant tells—hands pushing through his hair, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, foot jiggling non-stop—as he told you about the party.

“It’s all my parents' friends, so it might be kind of lame. But I’m allowed to invite people if you guys want to come. It’d be really great to see you.”

He’d worked himself up into such a state, it almost felt cruel to say no. You weren’t sure what it was—something about the earnestness with which he asked, and the way his eyes shone so hopefully when you smiled and told him you thought it sounded like fun.

Eddie’s gruff voice sounded in your ear again.

“Think we’re just here to piss off daddy?”

You followed his eyeline to the living room, gaze promptly drawn to the imposing frame of John Harrington as he reached out to grip the hand of someone important. Or at least someone who seemed to think they were. Even never having seen or met him before, he was easy to pick out as Steve’s father. They had the same square jaw, the same perfectly angled nose and rich, light brown hair. Although, John’s was cut shorter and tamed into a much more manageable style than his son’s long locks that lived in a near-constant state of tousled messiness.

“Steve wouldn’t do that,” you said firmly. “He asked us to come because we’re his friends.”

The words still felt strange to say. It made you wonder, yet again, if it would ever stop feeling so surreal that you now hung out with Steve “The Hair” Harrington on an almost daily basis.

When you were in school together, you never even landed on his radar. Eddie had some notoriety as the town’s supposed demon summoner, but you were just…around. A plain face that blended into the crowd; a background extra with no lines in the scene; wallpaper and set dressing for the popular kids who were living out their exemplary lives.

If this was only a few years prior, he probably would be spending this evening sneaking drinks with Tommy H. and Carol, or parading around with Nancy Wheeler on his arm to show her off to all his dad’s colleagues and brag about her getting into Emerson. Instead, his falling out with all of them and his subsequent fall from his high-school throne had led him here—to an unlikely friendship with The Freak and The Invisible Girl.

Whenever he came over to Eddie’s to smoke, or you three piled into his car to go to the movies or drive the winding back roads that snaked along the edge of town, it almost felt natural. And the more time you spent with him, the harder and harder it became to remember why he’d always seemed so…untouchable.

“So, what should we do?” You wondered aloud as you glanced around again, still hoping Steve might materialize somehow. Behind you, Eddie’s head shook and his shoulders shrugged.

“How should I know? You were the one begging to come tonight.”

“I wasn’t begging.”

“Oh, really?” He scoffed as he leaned in close again, raising the pitch of his voice in an overly breathy imitation of you. “Please, Eddie? Please, can we go to the party? I’ll let you eat me out from the back if you—”

“Stifle,” you hissed, jamming your elbow into his stomach.

He grunted at the sharp jab, but his lips remained curled in a sly smirk. “What’s wrong? Worried your little crush will find out what I’ve been doing to you after he goes home?”

“I don’t care if he knows,” you sniped. It’s almost convincing, but the flash of alarm in your eyes told a different story. Not that it mattered, Eddie didn’t buy it for a second anyway.

“Well, that’s good,” he tutted. “Because he already knows we’ve fucked.”

“Wait, what?” You whirled around fully now. “How?”

“He, ahh…” Eddie fought to contain his grin as he scratched at the short stubble on his cheek. “He saw that picture you let me take.”

Your eyes went wide, both horrified and enraged as you shoved his shoulder—hard.

“You showed it to him?”

“No, he found it,” Eddie hissed. “We were looking around for some weed I had stashed and he happened to open the drawer it was in.”

Your whole body—your very being—surged with white hot shame. If it wouldn’t have given Eddie so much satisfaction, you might have run straight out of the party right then and there. The thought of Steve seeing you like that…

It was almost unbearable.

The details of you and Eddie’s attachment had always been strictly under wraps. You weren’t exactly keeping it a secret, per se, but most people weren’t super accepting of the idea and you’d learned to play it close to the vest. And with how much time the two of you had started spending with Steve, you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.

It had been going on for ages. Pausing, albeit briefly, if one of you found yourself in a relationship, and picking right back up when said relationship inevitably fizzled or if it tipped into the dangerous territory of getting too serious. He was one of the few people in your life you trusted intrinsically, and it wasn’t like guys were banging down your door as it was.

The picture was a one-time thing—a polaroid you’d let Eddie snap as a belated birthday present because you’d been too busy to find him something real. You had made him swear upon pain of death it was for his eyes only. And now he’d shown it to the last person on earth you wanted to see it? Oh, you were going to garrotte him with tinsel in his sleep.

Also, Steve wasn’t your crush. He was…a preoccupation. A distraction. A vague interest.

You couldn’t even say for sure when it had begun. All you knew was just last spring, there was a month of Friday evenings where you found yourself back in the Hawkins High parking lot pulled in alongside Steve’s distinctive maroon beemer. He was leaning on the hood, waiting for Hellfire to let out so he could drive home his little horde of nuggets, and you had shown up acting as Eddie’s ride while his van was out of commission.

And that night, for the first time ever, you had a real conversation with Steve Harrington.

A fairly illuminating one, at that.

There was a sweetness to him you never would have guessed was there. And a dorkiness that brought light to his eyes when he did his elaborate handshake with Dustin Henderson, or the way he exalted along with the kids when the group burst through the double doors leading out of the school, whooping and cheering from a successful campaign. It warmed your whole body from the inside out, the feeling only growing stronger the more time you shared.

And now he’d seen your bare tits covered in Eddies cum. Perfect, just perfect.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s so humiliating.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I think he kinda liked it.”

“He…he did?”

“I mean, he was staring at it pretty hard. I think he needed some alone time with it.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder another shove for good measure, muttering a you're disgusting at him under your breath, hoping it would hide the nerves creeping across your face. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add fuel to Eddie’s fire. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gritty rasp in your ear that made shivers run down your spine.

“So you don’t wanna know what he said, then?”

Tension seized your shoulders as you glared at him, jaw clenched, ready to spit back a vicious comment—or maybe just spit—only to stop short at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you made it!”

Steve was beaming as he came over, his bright hazel eyes shining, the golden flecks in them brought out by the color of his sweater. He drew you into his embrace, his strong arms curling securely around your body and his gourmand scent filling your nose as you breathed him in.

Your hands smoothed over the planes of his back, relishing in the softness of the knit he wore and the solidity of his broad chest pressed against yours. Your pulse quickened, blood pounding in your ears as you did your level best to force what Eddie had just told you out of your head.

“I’m the coat check tonight,” Steve explained, tipping an imaginary cap. “There’s a guest room upstairs we can put them in.”

“I gotta take a leak,” Eddie said, already shrugging off his leather jacket and pushing it into your arms. “Take care of that for me, will you sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Eddie just grinned back at you with a suggestive bounce of his brows behind his curled bangs. Steve pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then turned straight back to you as he tilted his head upstairs.

“Shall we?” he asked.

The sounds of the party became distant and muffled as Steve led you upstairs to the designated dumping ground for all the furs and wraps of the numerous guests. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight that streamed through the window and the warm glow of the lights strung on the outside of the house that cast across the heap of coats on the bed.

You laid Eddie’s jacket down on a chair in the corner before you began to undo the belt of your own tied around your waist. As the thick, gray poly-blend slid off your shoulders, you shivered at the cool air hitting your heated skin for the first time that night.

When you turned back around, Steve was much closer than you remembered.

His eyes studied you with a kind of reverence that made your body tingle with excitement in a way you didn’t dare to name. The way he looked at you sometimes…whether it through a haze of pot smoke in Eddie’s trailer, or in the flickering light of a screen at the multiplex, or beneath the harsh amber wash of a single streetlight in an empty parking lot…

It made you wonder.

“You look really nice,” he finally said, his voice as soft as his eyes.

The dress you’d worn was fairly simple, made of maroon velour with a burnout pattern of leaves you thought looked a bit like holly. It was loose and flowy, but had laces in the back you had pulled tight so it cinched in your waist and pushed up your chest, not unlike a corset. The neckline was just low enough to flirt with impropriety and it nicely complimented the length of the pendant that sat in the center of your clavicle.

A dainty (fake) gold snowflake you thought was festive.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice even softer than his as you folded your arms in front of your stomach. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of nice outfits.”

Steve shook his head, captivated eyes still scanning over you. They landed briefly on your legs, the black stockings you’d worn in an attempt to stave off the cold now prickling warm on your skin as if it was his hands running over them instead of just his gaze.

“You always look perfect,” he said.

It’s not just the words that made you falter, but the plainness with which he states them. As if it’s something obvious. As though he thinks it all the time and he just happened to say it this time. It makes your stomach twirl and all at once, you feel like an empty-headed teenager standing at her locker, dizzy from being complimented by the cutest boy in school.

“So, this is quite a spectacle,” you chuckled, glad for the dimness of the room that somewhat hid your reaction to him. “Are there any poinsettias left in Hawkins?”

Steve smirked and took a careful step forward. There was only about a foot of space between you now, if that. “I think if there were, my mom would already have a guy on it,” he said.

Your eyes met his and you shared a soft laugh. “Well, it’s really beautiful,” you sighed. “It must have taken her ages to do all this.”

“Not really,” Steve chuckled. “She has, like, a whole team that comes in and puts it all together.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Your gaze dropped and you gave a regretful shake of your head. Rich people stuff, you thought a bit bitterly. No wonder that hadn’t occurred to you. “But…you must decorate the tree together, at least. Right?”

“No, they do that too. I’ve, uh…I’ve never actually never decorated a tree for Christmas. I kind of thought that was just something they did in movies.”

He huffed out a laugh, trying to hide the sadness that had started to pollute his smile, and rubbed the back of his head, tugging at the hair there that curled along the nape of his neck.

All you could do was stare.

You thought about that gleaming, twelve-foot behemoth downstairs with its dazzling lights and ornaments all spaced and hung so perfectly. It was stunning—looked like something straight out of a magazine. But now it was tinged with something hollow and unsatisfactory.

Cold. Fake. Empty.

It was you who stepped closer this time, the muscles in your arm tensing as if fighting against your brain’s instructions to reach out and touch him. He was close enough now you could feel the warmth coming off his body and smell the spice of his cologne and the clove cigarette he must have smoked. Your lips trembled, parted slightly, still searching for what to say.

But words refused to come.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Steve soothed, flashing you that easy and charming smile you’d grown to love and loathe in equal measure. “I just meant, like, Christmas really isn’t a big deal to me. And neither is this party, honestly, but…”

He fell silent as his hand reached out to squeeze your elbow, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing gently across your forearm. You stared mutely at his hand where it rested, already dreading how cold it would feel there when he let go of you. Except he didn’t.

“I’m really happy you’re here, though,” he said.

Steve’s chest rose with a sharp inhale and the tip of his tongue swiped along his bottom lip to wet it. His head tilted towards you, a few stray pieces of hair falling into his eyes that were bright and shiny with the string lights around the window reflecting in them.

It made your own breath catch, praying you weren’t imagining it as he started to lean in.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

You and Steve flew apart like shrapnel, both of you too wrapped up in the steady draw of your bodies together to notice the heavy thump of Eddie’s footsteps in the hall. Steve’s hand came up automatically to run through his hair, dragging up the bottom of his sweater and flashing the briefest glimpse of torso as his arm lifted. It made your mouth dry as a bone.

“I just realized I forgot about my hostess gift,” Eddie said.

His brow cocked at you and yet another little smirk curved along his lips as he brushed past, nudging you ever so subtly back in Steve’s direction. He then started to rifle through the inside pockets of his leather jacket until he exhumed a plastic bag with a few joints inside.

“Got it!” he chimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

The little baggie sailed through the air, crinkling when it hit Steve in the center of his chest.

“Oh! Thanks, man,” he chuckled, fumbling to catch it. “That’s great.”

Turning it over in his hands, he paused, mulling in silence as he stared down at the joints and glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway. From downstairs, you could now hear the faint tinkling of a piano being played and Eddie noticeably winced at the first few warbled notes of an unrecognizable carol being sung by a particularly drunk chorus.

“You know,” Steve said slowly. “We could bail on the party. Take this out to the pool house?”

As soon as he asked, his eyes darted up to meet yours—interrupting your intense study of the side of his face. Round and hopeful, they shone with his earnestness and you felt dizzy all over again. It made your brain scramble, trying to act like you weren’t just consumed by thoughts of what might or might not have been about to happen. You smiled.

“What are we waiting for?”

Steve left the lights off in the pool house, not wanting to draw too much attention if someone wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. The three of you made your way out in shifts—you with a plate of decadent treats you’d filled from the long table of desserts, Eddie with one loaded with food he’d swiped from the circulating trays, and Steve with a bottle of champagne he’d snuck out of the kitchen while the caterers were distracted.

The satisfying pop of its opening bounced off the walls that were mostly windows, sounding all the more illicit and clandestine in the darkness. The contents of the bottle fizzed as he held it out, offering you the first swig, and you took it with a nimble grasp.

Bubbly liquid splashed on your tongue and the dry, almost acidic, taste of it surely would have impressed someone with a more refined palette. But it made you wrinkle your nose as you squinted to read the French name scrawled in a loopy script on the shield shaped label.

“Gross, right?” Steve chuckled as you handed the bottle back. “But it gets the job done.”

He took a deep swig, head tipping back and giving you a long, long moment to study his neck as the muscles flexed with his swallow. You stared shamelessly, transfixed by the pairs of moles that sat along the line of his strong jaw, head empty of thoughts except how much better thechampagne would taste if you were licking it from his lips.

Eddie coughed, all loud and fake, drawing both of your eyes to him where he sat on a rattan sofa in the center of the room. He stared at you expectantly as he slouched down further in his seat, his knees spread wide and his arms draped across the back. He’d wasted no time making himself more comfortable, loosening the evergreen tie you’d made him wear and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt he normally only broke out for funerals or the odd court appearance.

“Don’t I get some of that?” he asked with a wry smirk.

Steve hurried to offer him the champagne, wiping away a little dribble of it that had started to trickle down his chin. You followed behind and slotted into a chair adjacent to Eddie’s as Steve handed off the bottle, making your brain short circuit when you saw the way his wide grasp nearly engulfed the entire bottom. It didn’t restart until he settled in the seat next to you.

After taking his sip, Eddie sparked up one of the joints and started it in a rotation along with the champagne. After only a few pulls from each you started to feel the effects, your head getting all light and floaty, your body warming from the blood pumping through you, your skin buzzing from the way your fingers kept brushing Steve’s whenever you passed him the joint or the bottle.

Or maybe it was from the way his eyes lingered on yours when you did.

Eventually, you dropped out of the rotation and sank back in your chair to gaze up at the house. The whole thing seemed to glow with the warmth of the party within, its windows bright yellow, the lights twinkling on the eaves. And the snowfall had remained soft and steady, dusting everything with a fine layer of white like powdered sugar.

The picture was immaculate, like a life-size snow globe. If Steve’s mother had somehow managed to pay Mother Nature as a decorator, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.

“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie snorted, evidently sharing in your bewilderment. “If all this is just the weekend before, I’m scared to ask what your family does for the main event.”

A deep chuckle bubbled out of his chest as he took a long swig of the rapidly draining bottle. He’d said it mostly as a joke, but Steve’s reaction revealed a nerve had been struck. He began to cough, sputtering out his words as he pulled the smoldering joint from between his lips.

“Oh no, it’s not—they aren’t, uh…they won’t be here.”

His eyes darted to the floor as he shook his head and stammered out his non-answer, wearing that same look on his face you’d seen in the guest room. Half-sad and trying to hide it.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. Steve just shrugged.

“They always go away for Christmas. I think it’s St. Barts this year. Maybe Turks and Caicos? Their flight is sometime tomorrow night.”

“Wait, so…they just leave you here?” you asked. “By yourself?”

Steve shrugged and shook his head again, the move almost reflexive, like flinching away from the sting of alcohol cleaning a fresh wound. “A nanny would stay with me when I was little. But from the time I was old enough…yeah, pretty much.”

You and Eddie’s eyes met, the same unthinkable thought seemingly crossing your minds. You actually felt bad—not just bad, but sad—for Steve Harrington.

“It’s not so bad, seriously,” he said, all flustered trying to salvage the mood. “I just hang out and watch movies and eat pizza. It’s fun. Honest.”

Despite his attempts, you can’t help but frown as you think what Steve’s Christmas will look like. His big house that was bursting at the seams with people right now being cold and desolate; him sitting all alone at a long dining room table eating leftover appetizers for every meal.

The thought tugged at something buried deep inside you. Something you’d packed away long ago and shoved into the furthest recesses of your mind. A box wrapped and taped and stapled and tied shut and then shoved behind a closet door. It made you turn to look at Eddie and he nodded knowingly, needing no words to know what you wanted him to say.

“You should come over,” he said, speaking so suddenly it came out loud in the tense quiet.

Steve’s head lifted. “What?”

“To me and Wayne’s,” Eddie supplied. “For Christmas Eve. We have dinner together and watch old movies and play games and shit. With this one.”

He jerked his thumb at you and you smiled as Steve’s eyes flitted over to meet your gaze.

“Only because they can’t cook to save their lives,” you said, shooting him a wink that made the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

“It’s not gonna be like this,” Eddie assured. “But it’s something, you know?”

“That, um…” Steve looked down at his lap, his long lashes fluttering as he tried to blink back the beginnings of tears. “That sounds really nice.”

Your hand moved without permission, reaching out to close around his wrist and squeeze. Steve’s head turned, staring at it like he thought he was dreaming. And as your brain suddenly caught up with the action and your body flooded with embarrassment, you started to pull it back only to feel the warmth of his palm covering your hand to hold it in place.

The only sound in the room was yours and Steve’s soft breathing and you swore you could feel the way both of your pulses were racing in time. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you became entranced all over again by his handsome face, the freckles that dotted his tanned skin, hazel eyes that shimmered as he scanned your expression, the deepness of his cupid's bow.

“I, um…I should check in with my mom real quick. You guys, uh…sit tight.”

Steve sputtered out his words as he rose to his feet, leaving your skin cold as he pulled his hands from yours. He looked around, his eyes searching to land on anything besides you or Eddie as he turned and stumbled towards the door. Eddie watched you watch Steve leave, an expression on his face as bemused as it was mocking.

“Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting.”

He shook his head, laughing to himself as he stuffed the last of the appetizers in his mouth. You glared back at him as he chewed and tried not to think about how your hand still burned where the ghost of Steve’s warmth remained.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. If I knew I was gonna have to watch you make googly-eyes at each other all night, I could have stayed home. I get enough of that as it is.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Eddie scoffed. “You are. He is. Just make a move, already.”

It was actually painful rolling your eyes as hard as you did. “Right. Sure. And what kind of move am I supposed to make? Considering how he ran out of here just because I touched his arm?”

“You’re not serious, are you? You’re pulling my dick, right?”

Eddie hunched forward as you deadpanned him, answering with a slow blink of your eyes and humorless expression until he threw his head back in a loud laugh.

“He had a fucking boner, smartass!” he cackled.

It’s not only your cheeks that warm now, but your whole body igniting like a bonfire. The feeling grips your shoulders, it’s talons digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce it to the bone.

“Bullshit,” you whispered, your mind reeling.

“You think I don’t know Steve well enough to know when he goes from six to midnight? It happens literally any time you touch him.”

Eddie was still snickering to himself as he took a final puff of the joint that had been smoked down to a nub. You stared at your hands in your lap, thoughts going into overdrive. Because this wasn’t just some random guy at the Hideout or an ex-classmate hitting on you at a house party. This wouldn’t be just a fumbled touch, grabby hands groping blindly in a dark closet that you would recount to Eddie before he gave you the orgasm you’d sorely been denied.

This was Steve. This would be something. Wouldn’t it?

“Only one way to find out,” Eddie said, as though he could hear the question you were asking yourself. “Anything’s gotta be better than this.”

“But what if he—”

The rattle of the doorknob cut you off, your eyes darted to the door just as Steve pushed it open to slip back inside. Eddie’s dark curls fell forward, sliding off his shoulders as he leaned in.

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.

Your eyes bulged in your skull, but before you could retort or argue, Steve had plopped back down in the chair next to you and your lips were effectively sealed.

“So the singing is still going on,” he chuckled. “But I think everyone will head home soon. We aren’t missing much.”

“That’s okay.” Eddie groaned softly into a stretch as he settled back into his reclined position. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

Heat flooded your core at his insinuating tone and you sat up a little straighter. He let his head loll to the side, his eyes finding yours automatically, dark irises glinting in the scant light.

“Hey…c’mere, doll.”

Eddie shifted down in his seat, rubbing his ringed hand across his thigh as an invitation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the fancy, and surely expensive, champagne you’d been sipping all night. Maybe it was the way Steve’s gaze followed you so intently as you stood and walked over to where Eddie sat on the wicker sofa. Whatever it was, it was working.

You laid your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you kneeled on the cushion next to him and went to straddle his lap. But his hands came up to grip your waist and stopped you.

“Uh-uh,” he said, motioning his index finger in a circle. “Other way.”

You hesitated, glancing from your crouched position over at Steve. His eyes smoldered in the darkness as he watched you—leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his long fingers laced in front of him. With a hard swallow, you stood and turned.

Eddie jerked you back against him, roughly pulling you flush with his chest. His knees pushed between your own and he spread them wide so your legs were held open, draped over the tops of his thighs. It made the skirt of your dress glide upwards, hem skimming the tops of your stockings, threatening to reveal the strips of bare skin between them and your panties.

His words from earlier still rang in your head. Follow my lead.

Well-worn hands splayed wide across your stomach, squeezing at the softness of your waist. Beneath you, his hips began to shift and the beginnings of his hard-on pressed insistently into the fat of your ass. It made you shiver all over, a gasp falling from your lips.

“So well behaved,” Eddie hummed, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips, suddenly gripping your chin in his hand to turn your face towards him. “She’s such a good girl, Stevie…. and we have so much fun together…”

The words and the deep timbre of his voice sent more shivers down your spine as he bumped the tip of your nose with his own. He pecked lightly at your lips until they opened up for him, his tongue probing the warm cavern of your mouth until you were moaning into his kiss.

It was lazy, but punishing. He nipped gently at your top lip, his own feathering with a tiny snarl as he revered back to his conversation with Steve.

“Why don’t you tell her about that photo you found?” he asked, hot breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell her what you thought about it.”

Your gaze flashed to Steve’s and you wondered if there was more light in here whether you’d be able to see a rush of scarlet covering his cheeks. His eyes had gone round with nervous energy, but they remained locked onto yours as he spoke.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he rasped, his voice almost cracking his throat was so tight. “I wish I could see it again, I…I wish it was me she’d done that for.”

The pit of your belly burned at his words, a breathy sigh fluttering in your chest and an exquisite ache now radiating between your legs. Eddie’s fingers trailed along the center of your body, over your sternum, tracing the dip of your navel through your dress until it quivered under his touch.

Slowly, he drew up the bottom of your dress like a curtain to reveal your core and the black lace your arousal had begun to seep through. The tips of his fingers stroked your entrance, mercilessly teasing your second set of lips.

“You wouldn’t believe how good she feels, Steve,” Eddie husked, his fingers holding their pace, making you grind into his lap. “Way better than that prissy cheerleader pussy you’re used to.”

The room filled with the sound of your breath and the wet schlick of Eddie’s fingers in your folds.

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie snickered. “I should say honor society pussy.”

Steve’s nostrils suddenly flared, his gaze tearing away from you and your body as if coming out of a trance. You looked back over your shoulder with a horrified look.

“Eddie—”

“Shush,” he snapped, cutting you off by plunging his fingers inside of you. They hooked upwards and your back bowed at the sudden stretch, a broken moan slipping past your lips. Steve’s eyes were drawn to your face at the sound, Eddie’s mention of his ex flying right out of his head.

“You want a taste, Harrington?” he asked, all dark and leading.

A little whimper escaped you at the thought and Eddie grinned wickedly. He smiled as he kissed the back of your neck, his teeth flashing as he nipped at your racing pulse.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You’d like his tongue?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, your eyes darting to find Steve’s. “Please.”

At your plaintive mewl, the very moment you asked, Steve instantly rose to his feet and hurried to kneel between yours and Eddie’s spread legs. His long fingers wrapped around the gusset of your underwear and he wrenched them to the side to reveal your dripping core.

He licked his lips as he stared at it, practically salivating. Your own lips trembled, fighting back the urge to cry out for him as you let your head fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

The wet heat of his tongue met your pussy in long, languid swipes. He nodded his head with each motion, dragging it through your folds as he inhaled deep and needy breaths of your scent like you were his air. His eyes burned with lust as he looked up from between your thighs, gauging your every reaction in the way you fluttered around his tongue.

With a trembling hand, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along his brow, skimming the stray pieces of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. The intensity of his stare, the depth of his gaze, made you glow brighter even than that behemoth of a tree inside.

He sped up his movements, working you up, the tip of his tongue pointed to swirl in a pattern as magical as it was maddening, flicking it teasingly over your clit and making you clench with each too-quick pass. At the same time, you felt Eddie’s hand creep up between your shoulder blades, fingers weaving into your hair to grasp it at the root. He gave it a firm tug and pulled your head back, bringing his lips to your ear so he could whisper to you—deep and rough and just loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Why don’t you tell him how long you’ve wanted this, huh?”

Another pitiful whimper left your lips as Eddie’s other hand squeezed a little more intensely at your chest, tweaking your nipple through your dress, loving how it made you tremble.

“Si-since Junior year,” you panted. “When he w-won the state swim meet…”

Just the thought of that day nearly has you flooding Eddie’s lap and Steve’s mouth. Your mind filled with the memories of it—visions of him in a Speedo that confirmed just about every rumor you’d ever overheard in the girl’s locker room; his arm and back muscles rippling as he pushed himself out of the pool; water spilling over freckled skin, droplets collecting on his shoulders and running down, down, down to where the small of his back met the fullness of his ass.

You had sat in the stands, thighs pressing together, feeling almost perverted staring while he celebrated with his teammates and whipped off his swim cap, his wild hair exploding out of it and making you wonder how he’d even managed to fit it all underneath in the first place.

The mere mention of his glory days seemed to have a similar effect on Steve. The movements of his tongue and lips turned more fervent, more determined to unspool you as he moaned like he’d never tasted anything as good as you.

Tremors began to roll through your body, making your thighs twitch and spasm.

“Tell him how good it feels,” Eddie husked, hips now punching up to create some friction against his own cock as it strained inside his dress pants. “Tell him how much you like it.”

“Yes, Steve, fuck—I love it so much,” you whined. “Keep going, I need it.”

The pretty lilt and waver of your voice had Steve unraveling before your very eyes. Another low groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he buried his face further, more eagerly, in your heat.

“God, you taste so fucking good, honey,” he moaned. “I could do this all night.”

The thought of having his mouth on you all night is enthralling, but there was no way you would last. You were barely going to make it another minute as it was. Steve was too good.

Every flick, every swipe, every swirl of his tongue you could feel in your entire body. Pleasure rushed across you in waves, a torturous winding upwards, that burning feeling deep in your gut coiling tighter, tighter. Your breaths grew shallow and your pulse raced until you were shaking in Eddie’s lap, fighting so hard to keep your legs spread apart that they shook from the effort.

Steve’s hands came up to grasp at your thighs, his fingers squeezing at the meat of them as he kept you pried open for him to ravish. Like a man possessed, he lapped and sucked and kissed at your entrance, his whole body seeming to move along with the motions of his tongue and lips. Beneath you, the wicker couch suddenly slid backwards and you realized it was because he had tried to grind against it—desperate to feel something, anything, against his cock.

Wishing it was you.

“C-close, close, I’m so close. Steve, I’m co—oohhh—”

Your orgasm rushed in, plowing through your body, making you lose all sense. You squirmed wildly in Eddie’s lap, almost having forgotten he was there until he reached around to give both of your nipples one last pinch—knowing how it always pushed you further over the edge.

Steve’s lips never left your clit and his eyes never left your face as he ushered you into your climax. He stared up at you, his eyes all glassy and round, searching for your reassurance as he rose from between your legs. His face hovered in front of yours and he lifted a hand to cup your jaw, his massive palm warm on your flushed skin as you panted to regain your breath.

“Good?” he asked. Hushed, like a prayer.

“So good,” you exhaled, chest still heaving. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, so overwhelmed with all your buried feelings being dredged to the surface. “Steve, that was—”

“Steven? Are you out here?”

Every hair on Steve’s head went flying as he whipped his head around hearing his mother’s voice. Through the sheer curtains, he could see her as she stepped outside onto the porch, peering into the darkness, wrapping a fur stole tighter around her elegant cocktail attire.

Panic struck his face like lightning, his mouth hanging open, his lips and chin still shiny with your spend. He looked back at you, his cheeks nearly as deep red as the velvet ribbons hung all over his house. You scrambled off Eddie’s lap to stand, frantically straightening your dress and hair, nervously wiping at your lips that were swollen from biting down when you came.

“I, um…the party’s probably over,” Steve said. “I just have to say goodbye to some people.”

He ran his hands through his hair a few more times as he strode towards the door, even though any damage you’d done grabbing it must have been righted by now. You looked over at Eddie, your own eyes swirling with questions you were terrified to hear the answers to.

His shoulders bounced, standing to tuck his shirttail back into his dress pants.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.”.

Steve was waiting in the foyer with you and Eddie’s coats when you snuck in from outside. His parents, thankfully, were too occupied giving the caterers instructions for clean-up to exchange any pleasantries at the door. You could only imagine how that would go…

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I’m the girl your son made come all over his face in your pool house. What a lovely party, thank you so much for inviting us.

There was still a smile on Steve’s face, though it felt almost pasted on now compared to his expression when you first arrived, sort of forced in an attempt to look more normal than he felt. He handed off Eddie’s leather jacket and then held yours open, his eyes remaining glued to you as you turned and pushed your arms through the sleeves. His fingertips trailed along the nape of your neck as he helped straighten the coat on your shoulders, his index tracing its curve all the way to your hairline in a way that felt so intentional it made your skin buzz.

With your ears pounding from your heartbeat thundering in them, you spun around to face him, your lips parted to speak only for no words to come. Because what was there for you to say? Or for him to do? Kiss you? He hadn’t even done that during, would he do it now to say goodbye?

Steve’s handsome face was as conflicted and contorted as your own. A faint blush still dusted along his cheeks and his eyes shone bright from the candlelight coming off the tapers that had burned almost all the way out. At last he drew a breath, and you felt your heart stutter.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

Eddie could barely contain the snort that burst out of him, even as he slapped a hand over his crooked smile and your eyes shot daggers straight into his chest.

You couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

There was only silence as the pair of you trudged along the driveway to the street where Eddie had parked his van, the snow on the ground having melted into slush mottled with gray where it mixed with excess oil on the road. Without the glow of the Christmas lights coming off the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the darkness of Steve’s street now felt oppressive.

It made you walk a little quicker to the van, your hand curled tight around the passenger side door handle waiting for Eddie to unlock it. As the two of you climbed inside the cab, he cranked the engine and flipped open the air vents for the heat to blast, finally breaking his silence as you yanked your door shut behind you with a sharp tug.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I thought I was helping,” Eddie muttered, his hands gripping tight around the steering wheel. “You were being so fucking obvious, I thought you needed a push.”

His chunky rings glinted in the street light as he busied himself messing with the radio, static scratching in your ears as he searched for something besides Christmas music.

“Are you really mad?” he asked, still fiddling with the dial, barely able to look at you.

You shook your head.

“I just…I don’t know, I feel like it’s weird now.” You let your face fall into your hands and shook your head furiously. “I mean, was that totally fucked up? To do that?”

“Nah, that wasn’t fucked up,” Eddie said assuredly.

He sounded confident enough that you let your shoulders actually relax and finally expelled the breath you were holding. The relief was short-lived though, when Eddie piped up again.

“I’ll tell you what might be, though.”

With a heavy sigh, you looked over at him warily. “What?” you asked.

Eddie sighed as he slumped back against the seat. His foot rested on the gas pedal and he pressed it down lightly, barely revving the engine to get some hot air flowing from the vents.

“When he comes over for Christmas Eve.”

Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate any time taken to read/comment endlessly ♥️

Started on this last year in December so that should tell you everything you need to know about my writing process. Enjoy some Christmas in whatever-month-you’re-reading-this. 😉

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic

522 notes · View notes