#weave hair that matches relaxed hair

[sweetnothingtm]

part ii of biker!simon, based off of this video! ☆

at first, you think dating biker!simon is a bad idea.

your neighbors hate him, a new complaint filed every time simon rolls up to your apartment in the middle of the night and revs the engine. he said something like he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and how he likes seeing you flustered.

but biker!simon starts showing up everywhere, casually leaning against the bike with his arms crossed in front of him. you always greet him with a smile, planting a kiss on his helmet as he reaches for your waist. he would complain about getting pulled over for the third time, and you joke that seeing you must be getting expensive for him, huh?

but he shrugs, saying something about how he’d die a happy man if he kept getting to spoil a sweet thing like you rotten.

he takes you on long drives, weaving between lanes of traffic and letting you absently talk about anything that’s on your mind. and when he tells you that he couldn’t hear a bloody thing, you roll your eyes and say something like he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him - but he’s got a smirk plastered across his face when he says yup, that’s what good girls like you are made for.

you have a habit to play with his belt when he rides, feigning innocence when he glances back to you with dark eyes. he asks do you really wanna get there on time? and you’re biting back the smile as he pulls to the nearest exit, tugging off the helmet to give you a wicked grin. he says something along the lines about needing to make a detour, and you’re going to be late, but that’s alright, yeah?

when you ask him teach you how to ride for the first time, you’re shyly planting kisses across his balaclava with a little smile on your face. his eyes are trained on your features, sharp and focused as you whisper gently in his ear with your arms wrapped around his neck.

biker!simon would plant his hands on your waist, grabbing at the skin and groaning to himself. he’d ask do you really wanna learn how to ride? - and you’d look at him with eager eyes, playing with the ends of his hair as you hummed a yes, please.

biker!simon would pull you firmly into his lap, biting and nipping at your neck as he whispered something about how - if you really wanna learn, you should practice on me first.

pretty soon you’re starting to wait for the sound of his engine, giddy with excitement whenever he runs a hand up your thigh and gently squeezes. you tell him that he can always stay the night, isn’t it too dark out to ride? you don’t want him to get pulled over again, right?

so he starts leaving his boots at the foot of your bed. biker!simon calls you when every time he gets another ticket, grumbling over the line about how he didn’t do anything stupid, just a bit of speeding - he didn’t want you to wait, and he’ll be there real soon, so don’t get too comfortable, okay? you joke that it’s just nice to have free rides, but he’s got his head tilted back as he laughs, saying that you’re just being coy - c’mon, admit that you kinda like having him around.

he bought you a helmet that matches his own, placing it snuggly on your head before your first drive. biker!simon would knock his helmet against yours, whispering sweet praises about how you look bloody good, sweetheart. talking about the fact that you’re just so brave, huh? what a good girl you are, guiding you onto the bike as he sits behind you.

and you’re so nervous, taking glances at him from behind your shoulder as he gently instructs you what to do. he’s got a hand on your waist that squeezes when he tries to get your attention. he’s telling you that you don’t need to worry about a thing, since he’s here to keep you safe, yeah?

he’d gently turning the engine over, letting the bike hum to life as you take in a breath and relax against his touch. one tap for slow, he’d say to you, patting your thigh gently, and two taps for speed up. you can do that, right sweetheart?

he whispers into your ear the whole ride, coaxing out that nervous energy until you’re running on pure adrenaline. biker!simon says something like you’re doing so good, huh? you take it like a natural - how come you’re acting so shy?

and afterwards you’re parked on the side of the road, wrapped up in his arms as he tugs you closer and hums in satisfaction. he asks you how it was, pulling up the visor to your helmet so you see two dark eyes lit up with affection. and you shrug your shoulder, saying something about how you’re not really sure what all the fuss is about, talking about the fact that now you can do it all by yourself. at that, he laughs and says see - it wasn’t so bad, huh sweetheart? but let’s save the riding for home, yeah?

dating simon couldn’t be all that bad, right?

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny has been mostly straight his whole 15 years of life. No his first kiss being Tucker doesn’t count, he will deny that to the end of the world. But he’s never really tried to explore his sexuality because it’s just never been tested.

Meanwhile DAN knows better, he did however not realize Danny wasn’t at the age he figured it out yet.

So Pride rolls around and Dan pops out of Clockwork’s tower and grabs Danny like “hey it’s time for pride.” And Danny is very confused because wtf Dan goes to pride???? He ended the world and despises humans but no, Pride is where he draws the line. Where are they even going for pride???

Gotham. Dan takes them to Gotham for Pride.

-Sincerely, Bisexual Son Dan anon

Danny glances comprehensively at the crowd of colorfully dressed people just as a woman on roller skates wearing nothing but a rainbow skirt and heart pasties flies by. At once, his whole face grows warm, and he drags his eyes down to the concrete before he makes the mistake of lingering on her too much.

He doesn't want her to think he is a creep. Or a pervert. Gosh, what if she thinks he's the reason women can't wear what they like in public because of men like him?

Danny can practically feel Sam stomping on the back of his knees with her metal boots at the mere idea.

The concrete becomes ten times more interesting as he listens to the woman zip away, dodging and weaving through the crowd with a cheer. Danny chances a glance up, only to make direct eye contact with her as she twirls in an impressive circle.

Her skirt fans out, displaying colorful shorts underneath, and she offers him a wink that makes the saliva in his mouth go down the wrong tub.

Half choking Danny, he flings his head away, staring at a different part of the group. He wants to die.

Dan snorts from where he is carefully painting a heart on the entire left side of his face. The older man had yanked him into the portal with barely an explanation and then opened a handheld mirror to paint himself with.

The heart is large, dramatic, and in three colors. Danny thinks they represent something, but he has yet to learn what. "Relax, kid. She won't bite- you don't have the bits she's into."

"What? Where are we? Why did you bring me here? Whats' going on!" Danny demands, clinging to Dan's arm as the man places the final white dots on his heart.

"We are in the best place to be in all of the Realms," Dan answers, gesturing to their surroundings. "Pride in Gotham! I brought you here to enjoy the festivities before I kick your ass in a re-match. Think of this as a second Truce Day."

"Pride?" Danny repeats, confused. Why would a person responsible for the world's end care about a minor holiday like that? Then, his mind caught up to the rest of what he said, making Danny even more confused. "Why would this count as a Truce day?"

Dan hums, pulling his long hair into a braid with careful but quick movements. "In the Realms, romance is regarded as a scarred topic and will be treated with the utmost respect. Ghosts rarely get married, so worrying about what gender people date is none existing. Unless you're stuck in a punishment island, but being in an endless era means ghosts never leave them. In this world, Gotham suffers an insane amount of crime, and on holidays, it's twice as bad, except for Valentine's Day and Pride. It's the only time the Rouges work together to ensure the city can enjoy themselves. You see? It alines in the dead and living worlds!"

Danny blinks slowly, "I don't understand any of that or why we are here."

Dan finishes his hair, by adding a little rainbow bow to the end. He truns a critical eye on Danny, looking him up and down then pulling out a pack of fake eyelashes. "I have rainbow heart lashes if you want to try them on."

"Answer my questions!"

The older man sighs as if Danny is in colossal pain, which is rude, considering he was the one who had dragged Danny from the street on his way home. "We're just here to enjoy the Pride Street Market. Maybe partake in a few contests if we're feeling brave. Look at booths. Watch the parade. You know, have fun."

"We," Danny gestures aggressively between them, just barely stopping himself from stomping his foot. "Don't do things together for fun!" And why Pride of all places, I'm not even gay!"

"I don't believe that."

Danny draws up short. "Excuse me!?"

"I said I don't believe you're not gay. I remember being your age. I was you, remember? I know how you reacted to Wes Weston."

The thought of the basketball-playing ginger runs through his head, sending a strange tingle through his body. Danny has always assumed that he was wary of the one person outside his friends who knew his secret. He can't believe Dan would even suggest that it was anything but weariness. "You mean the creep that follows me, trying to take my picture mid-transformation!?"

Dan shrugs. "You have a lot of things to wise up to. You're young; you don't know yet what having your picture taken does to you."

"What does that even mean!?"

Dan shrugs, putting away all his things in a convenient portal that pops up. "It means you're young. You'll learn."

Danny frowns, ready to demand more, when a shout of his older counterpart's name draws his attention. He twists around, looking into the flow of the crowd only to be surprised again by the more people in various revealing outfits, some of which warm his face.

Walking towards them is a man in a biker jacket, built like a brick house and towering over the people he passes. He's got big, heavy stomping boots, the kind that Sam would fist fight someone for, andan attractiveg white streak in his hair.

Was he a model?

Besides the rainbow wristband, nothing indicates he's here for pride.

"Jason!" Dan greets, grabbing the other by the outstretched arm and yanking in for a one-hand hug. "How have you been man?"

"Same old, same old," Jason responds with a laugh. Danny notes that he has a charming voice. He also has bright blue eyes and a sharp jawline—even the slope of his nose seems perfect. Danny didn't even know that was possible in noses. "Just got accepted to Gotham U for their English program."

"That's great! You'll obviously go to graduate at the top. No one is better at English than you." Dan chirps. Danny is too busy staring up at Jason in awe to be embarrassed by the eagerness with which Dan speaks to his friend. It was like listening to Jazz when she met that one famous poet at a slam and was tripping over herself to ask for his number.

Jason glances down at Danny, rasing a brow. "This is?"

Dan startsles almost as if he forgot he had kidnapped someone. " Oh, right. This is my baby brother, Danny."

"Oh," Jason grins, dragging out the o sound. He turns to Danny—who actually flinches back—and holds out his hand. "Dan told me all about you. I'm Jason Todd. Nice to meet you."

"Um...I- nice to meet. My name is. I mean, it's nice to meet you too. I'm Danny Fenton." He wants to barf.

This is worse than when Wes had cornered him in the boy's locker room, clutching his camera and hissing that he intended to document every moment of Danny's day for signs of Phantom.

It did make sense that any friends of Dan's- bringers of apocalypse, destroyers of humanity- made him uneasy. He's probably evil too.

"This is Danny's first Pride," Dan tells Jason in the same tone a parent would say: This is his first day of preschool. Dannny burns in embarrassment.

"Nice. You picked the great one to start in, kid. Gotham Pride is the best in the whole country." Jason says, tilting his head towards the booths. "My brother is helping his boyfriend run an informational booth for various sexualities if you're interested"

Dan steps forward with bright eyes. "Tim and Bernard are finally official?"

"Five months strong," Jason confirms with a laugh. You think Timmy would have realized it after going on three dates with the guy. It took Bernard getting kidnapped midway by a pain cult for it to click in Tim's head.

"He's young" Dan laughs, gesturing to a stun Danny. "Like this one."

"Ah, to be young and not dead." Jason sighed, sidestepping a child who ran by with a giant rainbow balloon. It smacked against Danny, waking him from whatever trace he was under.

Danny doesn't know what to make of all this. Figuring he should escape while Dan is distracted by the model man, he steps back, attempting to activate his powers, only to be shocked when he remains solid and in sight. Dan glances at him with an evil light in his eye.

"Lady Gotham nuterlizes our powers here. You have to be normal." He says and Jason titls his head.

"He's dead too?"

"A Halfa."

"Ah" Jason looks down at Danny who was starting to panic. "You want to go grab something to eat? There is this one food truck on the other side of the plaza run by the Riddler. He makes a mean BBQ."

At this point, did Danny even have a choice? "Okay."

Pride turned out to be surprisingly fun, and he learned that the paint that Dan had colored himself with was the "pansexual" flag. Also, Jason's parents must have marinated him in hotness juice alongside his siblings before letting any of them be born.

Hot damn.

Danny accepted the pansexual flag that Dan silently handed to him as the Waynes conversed at Tim's booth.

Maybe he should text Wes when he gets back from Pride.

[xoluvx]

can you handle it?; b.eilish

Winning draft 3. Full draft and notes at the end.

Enjoy my loves! 🩵

smut

"Do you think you can handle it?" she whispered in your ear, lips grazing your skin. Her lips sent shivers down your spine, hips raising and touching her body. She held your hands above your head, lips moving down your neck. So soft. So gentle. So unlike the thoughts running through your head right now. They were hard, harsh, dirty.

"Please," you whimpered shutting your eyes when her lips ghosted over your nipple.

"I can handle it," you moaned when her wet mouth captured your sensitive bud. So firm against her tongue. Her head bobbed as she sucked, lips puckered, grip so tight the pain was shooting straight down and between your legs. Clenching your thighs, you hummed when she released it with a pop.

Her hands traced the curves of your body. Lips suctioning on every little piece of skin she encountered until she was hovering over your pussy. So wet. So needy. Clenching around nothing. Longing for her touch.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me, then?" she whispered. Her voice soft but teasing. She watched as your lips parted. Gasping, and almost chocking on your own saliva. Chest rising from the bed when her middle finger slipped into your pussy.

"So wet for me already," she cooed and you nodded wanting to satisfy her. To give her exactly what she wanted so you could get what you needed. She bit her bottom lip watching her finger glide in and out. Then she slipped another in and you gasped contently closing your eyes.

The motion of her fingers moving and slightly rotating made your toes curl. In turn, she curled her fingers motioning in a 'come here' hand movement and you moaned bringing your hands down to her head. Fingers weaving through her hair.

"One more," she whispered and you nodded biting your lip muffling your whimpers. The feeling of a third finger made your head spin. You felt tight around her fingers already. She didn't move for a few seconds. Fingers buried in your cunt. She waited for your hips to raise, silently begging for more. She obliged moving her fingers. She didn't pull out all the way, she simply felt the inside of your pussy. Spongy walls clenching around your digits. She studied your facial expressions. You were so lost in pleasure you didn't notice the fourth finger.

At least not until she moved her hand and her knuckles pressed on the base of your entrance.

"How-" you breathed furrowing your brows and inhaling deeply.

"-how many fingers?" you managed to speak, tightening your grip on her hair as she smiled at you sweetly, that pretty little fucking-

"Four," she beamed pulling out slightly before pushing back in, quickly establishing a steady pace that made your insides quite literary churn. You were gasping for air. Cursing as you fell back on the mattress releasing her hair, building the confidence to move your hips and match her rhythm.

Billie groaned when she felt you move.

"You're being such a good girl for me," she praised burying herself in your pussy so gloriously.

"Do you think you can take it?" she asked, referring to the conversation you'd had earlier before you were in bed. Before you laid naked in front of her releasing all control. Her was voice raspy as she licked her lip concentrating on the way you pussy wrapped around her fingers.

"Yes," you cried holding her wrist encouraging her to go for it. To consume your body. To tear you apart in every sense of the word.

She didn't need more than those three pretty letters seeping off your tongue to adjust her thumb. Fingers forming a claw of sorts, pushing slowly into your pussy as you relaxed taking her in. Adjusting to the side of her fingers.

"Fuck," Billie moaned, mouth open, almost drooling at the sight. She flinched when your pussy clenched. It felt like you were crushing her fingers, but you inhaled she was able to sit comfortably in your pussy.

Noticing you'd gone silent, lip tucked under your teeth biting as if you were on a mission to draw blood, Billie spoke. Her voice snapping you back to reality. Bringing you back down to earth. Your eyelids fluttered opened and your eyes met.

"Talk to me, baby girl" she cooed still holding still.

"Keep going, please-" you begged moving your hips. She smiled sweetly and nodded before moving her hand. There was a pressure that was both sweet and foreign. She was in deeper than before. Filling you up so deliciously.

"More-" you shut your eyes swaying your hips.

She started pounding on your g spot. Moving her hand until you were seeing stars, clenching around her fist. With each stroke, it felt like you were sucking her in deeper and deeper. The familiar tightening feeling and coiling was burning in your core. You needed release. You needed it now. She was hitting all your pleasure spots, but tenfold. You were spilling at the seams. Shockwaves intense.

"That's it," Billie encouraged watching your face contort in pleasure.

"Cum for me," she whispered bringing her lips to your inner thigh. She peppered kisses on your warm skin, her movements only growing faster and harder. You were so tight around her hand she felt her fingers getting crushed and she was so proud. Your cries echoed through the room as you gripped on to the sheets.

"Please-" she whimpered peppering kisses on your other thigh and that's all you needed for the ticking time bomb to explode. She felt your pulsating orgasm on her fingers. Your moans washing over her skin, consuming her all.

You stayed like that for what seemed hours. But really was only a few minutes. Then she started pulling out gently as you winced and cried holding on to her wrist.

"I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry angel," she hummed watching your eyebrows relax when she stopped moving.

"I'm going to pull out now," she whispered encouragingly as stroked your thigh with her free hand. You whimpered, but you nodded. She pulled her hand out slowly until you were empty and clenching around nothing instantly missing the way she made you feel so full.

It felt like her fingers were broken, but she stared at her hand totally covered with your arousal. From her fingertips to her wrist. She was enamored. And proud so fucking proud.

"You did such a good job," she whispered against your cheek pressing her lips on your skin causing you to sigh contently. A small smile forming on your lips as held your chin. Your eyelids fluttered opened and you eyes met in tender stare. When your lips met you melted into her embrace allowing yourself to be engulfed in her arms, indulging the praise.

• • •

✨ the draft ✨

Note: This draft was most likely written late at night. Like I prob woke up/was close to sleeping and wrote this down. That’s how my brain works, I gotta write it down right away or I’ll forget about it. Rip to all the ideas I’ve thought of and forgotten. I hope ya'll enjoyed the final thing. This was fun! Let's do it again? I love you babies 💖

[gloryy-vs]

aonung x shy and tiny reader

pls i live for protective aonung 😭😭🙏 they'd be childhood friends and grew up decided that they will be mates eventually

My Mate

characters: ao’nung x na’vi reader

ratings: sfw , fluff

He always had at least one hand on you, or an arm wrapped around your waist. Ao’nung never let you leave his sight. Not much changed between you two since you were younger, he was always looking over you protectively. A running joke between your parents and his was that he was your personal warrior. Ready to spill blood for you when the time comes.

“Ma Ao’nung, come help me add a bead to my songcord. Let’s get matching ones for the Tulkun’s and their return!” You said happily, not noticing that you were interrupting his time with his friends. He didn’t seem to care, a smile creeping on his face while he got up. Ao’nung saw the two seashells in your palm, a soft grey color with a pearly coating.

As usual, he placed a hand on your lower back, turning you around gently as he spoke to his friends. “I’ll be back later. We can go hunting.” They rolled their eyes playfully, making it clear that this was an almost everyday occurrence. You flashed them an apologetic smile, they didn’t hold it against you anyways.

You excitedly explained to your mate about where you found the shells, a bit deeper in the sand, so it took you a while to find one that was similar. “Come! Let’s add them now.” You said happily, practically skipping to your shared Marui with him.

Ao’nung had a big smirk on his face, sitting down first with his legs spread apart. You grabbed your carved box with weaving materials and other beads before sitting between Ao’nungs legs with your back against his chest. You both unwrapped your songcord from your wrists, finding where the latest bead was placed and unknotting the end. He moved his arms to wrap around you, and he placed his head on your shoulder so he could see what he was doing. You loved any kind of physical contact with him, feeling his heart beat, the way his breath tickles your neck just barely.

You wrapped the twine and string around the silvery shell, securing it with a knot at the end. Your attention shifted to how Ao’nungs fingers worked so intricately, tying a knot at the end of his own songcord. He brushed a few stray strands of your hair from your face as you turned around a faced him at an angle. You held your wrist out, wanting him to tie it back for you.

“You always do it just right. Not too tight, not too loose.” In all honesty it’s because you also couldn’t tie it with one hand.

He laughed, already knowing the real reason. His hands were warm against your cooler skin, and his eyes shot ip to look at you while he tied a small bow for your songcord.

“You’re cold. Cmere.” He said, tapping away at your wrist to let you know you can put it down. He wrapped his arms around you, squishing you against him.

Rolling your eyes, you fought for him to let you go. “Cant, breathe!” You said, but he refused to budge.

“You’ll be okay.” Ao’nung said, looking down at you. His eyes stared at all of your feature for a brief moment, taking everything in.

“You’d make a perfect Tsahik.” He said, as if he was lost in thought still staring at you.

Your mouth was agape, a flustered expression covering your face as you looked at the future chief. He ran his fingers through the parts of your hair that weren’t braided, his other hand resting on your hand and caressing your palm softly.

“We should officially mate, before Eywa. I want you to be my Tsahik.” Ao’nung suggested, but the tone in his voice suggested that it was more of a demand.

You stiffened but slowly relaxed, knowing he would be with you each step of the way, even if it was a big responsibility and a important thing he was asking of you. You nodded, and a smile grew on his teal face.

“I must go ask your father permission to court you, come. We don’t have all day.” He said, giddy over the fact everything would be official between you two as soon as you mate.

[random-writer-23]

how about logan giving you a facial?

~~~18+ MDNI, oral sex (m receiving), he's a headpusher, I'm rattling the bars of my enclosure actually~~~

I knew the kind of night I was in for when I heard the door slam shut when Logan got home, I sat in the living room my eyes fixed on the tv as a show droned on in the background, I wasn’t paying much attention to it anymore. Not when I could practically feel the anger and stress radiating from him.  I hear his work shoes thunk as they hit the floor after he takes them off carelessly tossing them aside on our hardwood floor. He groans and I finally see him emerge from the hallway, the tiredness in his eyes unmistakable, and yet as soon as he saw me sitting on the couch he smiled wide, even though it was slightly strained I knew he was happy to see me. 

“Hey pretty girl” he murmured kissing the top of my head as he sat himself next to me on the couch, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his side, breathing in my scent and instantly relaxing against me. 

“Long day?” I ask softly and he reaches down rubbing his hand on my thigh.

“Yeah you could say that” he grunts sighing heavily, leaning his head against mine as we both look toward the TV watching some mindless sitcom play out, even though he was relaxed against me I could still tell his body was riddled with tension, I wanted to help him relax a bit, get rid of some of the tension and stress that courses through his veins. “Hey baby?” He says his voice a low growl, and I know what’s coming next. 

“Hmm?” I hum softly, and he chuckles lightly. 

“I’m a little tense right now… be a doll and help me out” He says quietly running his fingers through my hair, he smiles at me hopefully and I can’t say no, not when he’s been at work all day, not when I want to take care of him. 

“Mmm fine” I say teasingly and he grins pulling me in for a kiss, dragging me away from his side so I’m straddling his lap, he breathes in deeply as he kisses me smiling against my lips and I pull away to laugh. 

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, and I smile. 

“So you’ve said” I tease and he rolls his eyes frowning.

“Don’t be a brat” he grumbles trying to keep the stoic look on his face. I just laugh leaning in for another kiss which he eagerly accepts his lips meeting mine almost desperate for a taste, he bites my bottom lip and I part my lips granting him access, he groans against me, and I feel him growing hard beneath me. He grips my hip tight, breathing deeply before weaseling his hands under my shirt trailing them up towards my breasts. His hands stop when they reach their desired destination and he pulls away from my lips to grin at me. “No bra?” He tsks and cups my tits under my shirt squeezing them tightly, running my his finger teasingly over my nipple, and I whine, as he eagerly tugs on my shirt casting it aside. “Look at you” he growls leaning in taking a nipple in his mouth letting his tongue circle it biting gently before repeating the process on the other one. I moan arching into his touch, my hands gripping tight to his hair, and he lets one of his hands fall to the small of my back pulling me tighter against him, before letting my breast go with a soft pop. “Let’s see if the bottoms match” he says squeezing his fingers into the waistband of my shorts feeling for any panties. I pull my hands away from his hair resting them on his hands pulling them away, shaking my head. 

“No baby, I’m taking care of you tonight” I murmur kissing him again and he grumbles his protests against my lips, as I pull away sliding down off his lap till I’m kneeling on the floor and his protests quiet down. His fiery gaze follows me as I sink down in front of him my hands sliding down his chest till they rest on his belt buckle. I tug on it undoing it and pulling it out his belt loops, bending my head lower to kiss at his clothed erection. He growls tilting his head back letting it fall back onto the couch, and his fingers weave into my hair pushing my face down against his bulge. 

“C’mon baby don’t tease” he huffs and I giggle,reaching up to undo the button of his pants. 

“Fine just cause you’ve had such a hard day…” I smile and he lifts his hips fumbling with his pants desperately, pulling them down just enough to pull his dick out. I lick my lips as his rigid cock smacks lightly against his stomach. I take it in my hand stroking it lightly and he groans breathlessly his eyes closing and he weaves his fingers through my hair. I grin leaning forward to lick up his happy trail as I stroke his cock, before sitting back on my feet, running my tongue along the tip of his dick licking up his precum groaning softly at the taste, he shudders under my touch, tugging on my hair lightly making me look up at him my tongue dangling out my mouth, he looks down at me his gaze heavy.

“I said don’t tease” he growls, and I shiver at the sound looking up at him as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, his eyebrows furrow and his grip on my hair tightens, his lips parting as he exhales slowly. “That’s my good girl” he rumbles lightly pushing my head further onto his cock, I let him push me down until he hits the back of my throat and I gag. “Almost took the whole thing baby” he says pulling my head up and pushing me down again, thrusting his hips slowly to help me get him off. I hollow my cheeks sucking lightly, and he grunts closing his eyes as he thrusts into my mouth, pushing my head all the way down my nose touching his happy trail, I gag as he pushes my head down keeping there for a few seconds before tugging on my hair pulling me up off his cock. I gasped for breath looking up at him, drool dribbling down my chin landing on his thighs. He looks down at me his pupils blown wide, and I take his dick back in my mouth running my tongue along the prominent vein on the side, bringing my hand up to delicately massage the heavy balls adorning him. “Oh that’s it baby” he mutters petting my head softly, I bring my hand back up to his cock gripping it gently letting it run up and down his length as my mouth does the rest of the work, I can hear his breath getting heavier. “Fucking hell baby” He grunts, “Just a little more…” He moans, his chest stuttering as it rises and falls, his grip on my hair tightening before abruptly pulls my mouth away from his cock, angling my head up. “Tongue out babygirl” He pants using his other hand to fist his cock desperately, I whine obediently sticking my tongue out keeping my mouth open. “Such a good listener pretty girl” He grunts, and he lets out a strangled gasp, I close my eyes and the warm feeling of his cum hits my face, he gasps and I moan feeling it hit my tongue. The warmth spreads across my face as he aims covering my face in his cum. He gasps and breathes heavily. “Fuck baby” He chuckles and I finally open my eyes bringing my tongue back in my mouth to swallow what he gave me. I moan at the taste and I see him bring out his phone, he looks at me and I nod. He grins aiming the camera towards me taking a picture of me. “Youre so fucking beautiful” He groans. 

“So you’ve said” I giggle, and he rolls his eyes, he tucks his cock away and grabs my hands helping me off the floor. 

“Don’t be a brat, baby” he chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “C’mon let’s get you cleaned up” He murmurs softly, and I nod letting him lead me to the bathroom. 

[rebelfell]

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. 😉

[hobie-enthusiast]

— cw; making out, suggestive themes, implications of death

thinking about hobie brown who would impulsively get a new matching piercing with you after a night out in the city. he brings you to a friend of his who does his piercings, someone he trusts. he tells them to do whatever they want, as long as the two of you match. he offers his hand to you to squeeze when you’re being pierced, and after, he’s absolutely obsessed with how you both look.

thinking about hobie brown who’s protective of the things he loves, especially you. He doesn’t trust many people, especially those he doesn’t know. it's little gestures, like pulling you close to him by the arm or waist or walking on the side on the street the road is. he couldn't imagine something happening to you, he has a strong urge to always keep you safe. that's probably why spider-man always happens to show up when you get into some trouble alone.

thinking about hobie brown who drops several hints he’s spider-man. he doesn’t like lying to you, and even though he isn’t, it feels like he is. so he waits for you to ask or put the pieces together. if you never do, he doesn’t outright tell you. he would never want you to think he’s doing it to impress you or be famous. not that you would think that. but if you do, he’s honest and even offers to let you be his partner-in-crime, its perfect.

thinking about hobie brown who always wants to hear about your interests. even if it’s something he doesn’t know or understand the excitement over. he wants to hear every detail you know. he wants to know and understand where your excitement comes from and what you love about it. he will just sit there with such a love struck grin, eyes never leaving you or your lips moving so passionately.

thinking about hobie brown who lives for post-show make out sessions. after his band plays he always takes you to the back of the venue, holding you close to him as he kisses you like there's no tomorrow. he's addicted to you; the way your hot bodies press together, the way your lips feel on his, the way he can make you unravel from his hands settling on your waist. it's like a drug he's never going to get enough of, especially when his leg slots so perfectly between your thighs to rile you up. after he's always a panting mess, eyes lidded as he laughs, yet the laugh is a low chuckle from the way you practically drag him home.

thinking about hobie brown who would not hesitate to interrupt a canon event to save your life. whether it's in his dimension or some other variation of his, he doesn't care. the second he notices your life in danger, he's saving you. he can handle a heavy and hard scolding from miguel. hell he can ever handle being kicked from the spider-society for good. but nothing comes above saving your life, and he is a firm believer in that.

thinking about hobie brown who is obsessed with the way you play with his hair. his favourite way to fall asleep is in your lap, your hands tangled in his wicks, treating them and him like the most precious thing in the world. it's like some sort of spell you put on him, and he will never get enough of it. you start scratching his scalp or weaving your fingers through his hair? he's asleep in minutes. he's very protective of his hair and who can touch it, so letting someone he loves see him so vulnerable is always enough to relax him and coax him into getting proper sleep.

truly just thinking about hobie brown.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Boys Day Out.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - these new pictures are making me go feral, like his hair grew back so quick and ngl im absolutely loving it 🥰

word count - 2.8k

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

Friday 16th February, 2024.

Last Friday was a rare moment of tranquility in your household.

You sat nestled in your shared bed, Harry's arm draped around your waist, pulling you close. As you lost yourself in the pages of your book, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way his eyes sparkled with every scroll on his phone.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm aura around the room, creating a peaceful atmosphere that enveloped you both. With each shared smile and whispered exchange, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of love and companionship that filled the space between you.

As the subtle silence enveloped the room, Harry gently broke it, his voice filled with excitement. "Y’know, m’love, I was thinking... How about taking the boys to the Manchester United match on Sunday? A mate has a few tickets spare. It would be a fantastic day out for them, and I reckon it'd do you good to have some time for yourself."

You paused, considering his suggestion. " H, I don't mind staying with the boys. Besides, it's a big game, and they might get restless."

Harry shook his head, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Nonsense, they'll love it! And you deserve a break, you do so much for them already. Plus, it'll be a chance for me to bond with the boys, just the three of us."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness.

"I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of me-time," you admitted, though still hesitant about leaving the boys for the day.

Seeing your uncertainty, Harry took your hand in his, his gaze softening. "Trust me, m’love, it'll be a day they'll never forget. Besides, it'll give you a chance to relax and unwind, do whatever you fancy without worrying about the boys."

His words warmed your heart, and you found yourself nodding, a sense of relief washing over you.

"Okay, you've convinced me. Let's make it a boys' day out on Sunday," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of a few hours of peace and quiet.

Sunday 18th February, 2024.

Harry navigated his Range Rover through the familiar streets, the excitement palpable in the air as they neared Kenilworth town where the football match awaited.

In the backseat, Cameron, his eight-year-old son, gazed out of the window with a mix of wonder and anticipation, his Manchester United kit proudly worn.

Cameron Harry Styles was conceived only five months into yours and Harry’s relationship, it definitely came as a shock seeing as he was only twenty-two, but he absolutely wouldn’t change it for the world.

"Dad, do you think Rashford will score today?" Cameron asked eagerly, his eyes alight with excitement.

Harry glanced at Cameron through the rearview mirror, a smile playing on his lips.

"M’reckon he's got a good chance, Cam. But y’know how football is, anything can happen," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, in the other car seat Dexter Robin Styles, your youngest child who was conceived on your honeymoon.

Dexter, just turned two, slept soundly in his car seat, blissfully unaware of the excitement surrounding him. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his youngest son, his heart swelling with love.

"Look at him, out like a light already," he remarked to Cameron.

Cameron grinned back, his excitement bubbling over.

"We can wake him up when we get there, Daddy," he declared confidently, already planning the day ahead in his mind. "I can't wait to see the players up close!"

The journey continued for another half an hour, the excitement building with each passing mile. Cameron peppered Harry with questions about the match, his eagerness infectious as they drew closer to the stadium. Dexter stirred in his sleep occasionally, but Cameron kept a watchful eye on him, eager to share every moment of the adventure with his little brother.

Finally, they pulled up in the stadium's private car park, greeted by the bustling atmosphere of fellow fans and the distant sounds of cheers from inside. Harry turned off the engine, glancing back at his sons with a grin.

As Harry stepped out of the car, he made his way around to Dexter's car seat, his heart full of anticipation for the day ahead. Gently, he opened the door and leaned in to wake his youngest son.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he murmured softly, giving Dexter a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up, buddy."

Dexter stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly emerged from his deep slumber.

"Daddy?" he mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep. "Carry me, please?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his son's request, knowing full well that Dexter was a total daddy's boy.

"Of course, little man," he replied, ready to scoop Dexter up into his arms. "You ready for some football?"

Dexter nodded, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. "Yeah, football!" he exclaimed, his voice still laced with sleepiness.

Harry chuckled softly, planting a kiss on Dexter's forehead.

"That's right, buddy. But first, we need to get you out of this car seat," he said, gently manoeuvring Dexter's sleepy limbs.

Meanwhile, Cameron had already made his way out of the car and stood next to his father, his hand clasped firmly in Harry's.

"I can't wait to see the players, Daddy!" he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

Harry chuckled, ruffling Cameron's hair affectionately.

"I know, buddy. It's going to be an amazing day," he replied, his heart swelling with love for his two sons.

The stadium wasn’t that busy, but that may be because the match didn’t kick off for another hour.

No one had managed to spot him thus far, so it was all smooth sailing.

Dexter was still in his arms, thumb in his mouth and Cameron was holding his fathers hand, his shoulder length curls tied back in a loose man bun that you had done this morning.

As they made their way through the bustling stadium, Cameron's stomach rumbled loudly, coincidently as they passed a nearby food stand.

Oh how he craved some warm food right now.

"Daddy, m’hungry!" he exclaimed, tugging on Harry's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Hungry, huh? Remember, it's not 'want', it's 'would like'," he gently corrected, trying to instill good manners in his son.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food stand.

"Okay, Daddy. Can I have a slice of pizza, please?" he asked politely, his stomach grumbling impatiently.

Harry smiled, proud of Cameron's manners.

"Of course, buddy. Let's see what they have," he replied, leading the way to the queue.

As they waited in line, Harry turned to Dexter, who was still cradled in his arms.

"And what about you, Dex? Would y’like anything to drink?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from Dexter's forehead.

Dexter nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Fruit shoot, please, Daddy!" he chirped, his little voice filled with anticipation.

He should have guessed.

Harry chuckled, planting a kiss on Dexter's cheek.

"Fruit shoot it is, champ," he replied, making a mental note to grab a couple of bottles for the boys.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Harry ordered a slice of pizza for Cameron and a couple of fruit shoots for Dexter. As they walked away from the food stand, Cameron eagerly bit into his slice, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. And with Dexter happily sipping on his fruit shoot.

In the stands of the bustling stadium, Harry sat between his two boys, each in their own seat. Dexter, perched proudly in his own seat, had insisted on being a "big boy" for the match, his determination shining through as he sat upright, his legs swinging with excitement.

Though still too young to fully grasp the intricacies of the game, Dexter's eyes sparkled with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the stadium, his tiny hands gripping the edge of his seat in anticipation.

Cameron, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in the action on the field. With his Manchester United scarf wrapped around his neck and his eyes fixed on the players, he leaned forward eagerly, his heart racing with each pass and shot. His passion for the game was palpable, his entire being consumed by the thrill of the match unfolding before him.

As the game entered its fifth minute, Manchester United surged ahead with an early goal, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched the excitement ripple through Cameron, his son's eyes shining with pure joy. And beside him, Dexter's infectious laughter filled the air, a constant reminder of the simple pleasures of being together as a family.

As the game entered its seventh minute, Manchester United's Rasmus Højlund seized an opportunity and scored a magnificent goal, sending the stadium into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Cameron, unable to contain his excitement, leapt up from his seat, his eyes wide with jubilation as he started jumping up and down.

"Yes! Go, United!" he shouted, his voice filled with exhilaration.

Beside him, Dexter watched with wide-eyed wonder, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Sensing his confusion, Harry leaned down and whispered in Dexter's ear, "Dexter, our team just scored a goal! Isn't that exciting?"

Dexter's face lit up with understanding, and he clambered down from his seat, his tiny legs carrying him over to stand in front of Harry.

With a beaming smile, he reached out for Cameron's hand, eager to join in the celebration.

"Goal! Goal!" he exclaimed, mimicking his older brother's excited jumps.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his two boys jumping up and down in unison, their laughter echoing through the stadium. Quickly pulling out his phone, he aimed the camera at them, capturing the precious moment for posterity.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match with Manchester United emerging victorious with a score of 2-1, Cameron was buzzing with excitement. He bounced around, his energy infectious as he reveled in his team's triumph.

Meanwhile, Dexter, nestled contentedly in Harry's arms, gazed up at his father with sleepy eyes, still basking in the excitement of the game.

Unbeknownst to the boys, Harry had a surprise in store for them. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he decided to keep it a secret until the perfect moment. As they made their way out of the stadium, Cameron and Dexter assumed they were heading home, completely unaware of the surprise awaiting them.

A kind-hearted stadium staff member, noticing the boys' enthusiasm for the game, discreetly approached Harry and whispered about a special opportunity to visit the dressing room of Manchester United. Sensing the boys' excitement, Harry nodded gratefully, knowing that this unexpected treat would be the perfect end to an already unforgettable day.

They soon arrived at the changing rooms.

"Daddy, where are we going?" Cameron asked, his voice tinged with excitement and curiosity. Before Harry could respond, the door swung open, revealing a sight that left Cameron speechless.

His eyes widened in awe as he took in the scene before him—the dressing room of Manchester United, filled with his favorite players. For a moment, Cameron was rendered silent, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stood in the presence of his idols.

Meanwhile, Dexter, wide awake and brimming with enthusiasm, squirmed in Harry's arms, eager to explore. Spotting one of the players nearby, he wiggled free and dashed over without hesitation, his extroverted nature shining through as he greeted the player with a wide grin and a burst of chatter.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's boldness, his heart swelling with pride at his son's fearlessness. As Dexter chatted animatedly with the player, Harry followed after him, a fond smile on his face as he watched his youngest son soak up the moment with unbridled joy.

Beside him, Cameron held onto Harry's trouser leg tightly, his shyness evident as he observed the scene with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Harry knelt down beside him, offering reassurance and encouragement.

"S’okay, Cam. They're just regular people, like you and me," he whispered, gently squeezing Cameron's hand in support.

Harry noticed Cameron's apprehension and knelt down beside him, offering a reassuring smile and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"S’okay, buddy. Y’don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to," he whispered gently, understanding his son's discomfort.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room continued, a familiar figure approached the trio.

It was Marcus Rashford, Cameron's favorite footballer.

The moment Cameron caught sight of him, his eyes widened in awe, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

Harry smiled warmly as Marcus crouched down to Cameron's level.

"Hey there, buddy! Did you enjoy the game?" Marcus asked, his voice gentle and friendly.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement.

"Y-yes! It wa-was amazing! Y-you're my favorite player," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with nervousness.

Marcus grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Thank you, mate! That means a lot to me. What's your name?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle Cameron's hair.

"C-Cameron," he replied, his voice trembling with excitement. "I-I've always wanted to be like you when I play football with my team."

Marcus's smile widened at Cameron's words.

"That's fantastic, Cameron! Keep working hard, and who knows, maybe one day you'll be playing for Manchester United too," he encouraged, his words filled with genuine warmth and encouragement.

Encouraged by Marcus's friendly demeanor, Cameron slowly began to relax. With Harry's reassuring presence beside him, he found the courage to step out from behind his father's leg and engage in conversation with his idol.

Harry, holding onto Dexter with his other hand to prevent him from wandering off again, watched proudly as Cameron and Marcus chatted animatedly. Despite Cameron's initial nervousness, his admiration for Marcus shone through, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his son's bravery.

And as they continued to talk, Cameron's stutter gradually faded away, replaced by an excited chatter as he eagerly shared his love for football with his idol. In that moment, surrounded by his father's support and the friendly encouragement of Marcus Rashford, Cameron felt like anything was possible.

As their conversation with Marcus continued, he noticed the excitement radiating from both Cameron and Dexter.

With a warm smile, Marcus gently interrupted their chatter.

"Hey guys, would you like to take a photo together?" he offered, extending his arms towards them.

Cameron's eyes lit up with excitement, while Dexter's face broke into a wide grin.

"Yes, please!" Cameron exclaimed, eager to capture the moment with their idol.

Marcus chuckled warmly as he scooped Dexter into one arm and Cameron into the other.

"Alright, let's get a picture," he said, positioning them carefully for the shot.

As Marcus held onto the boys, he glanced over at Harry, who stood nearby, watching with a proud smile.

"Would you like to join us in the photo?" Marcus asked, extending an invitation to Cameron and Dexter's father.

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude at the gesture.

"Absolutely," he replied, stepping forward to join the group.

With Harry now in the frame, another player from the team stepped forward to take the photo.

"Say cheese!" he called out, readying the camera.

Cameron, Dexter, and Harry beamed with excitement as the photo was taken, capturing the moment they shared with Marcus Rashford. As the shutter clicked, Harry felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude, knowing that this experience would be a cherished memory for years to come.

After the photo was taken, Cameron ran straight over to Harry, his eyes shining with tears of joy.

"Daddy, I love you so much! This has been the best day ever!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Harry in a tight hug.

Touched by Cameron's heartfelt words, Harry wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close.

"I love you too, Cam. M’so glad we could share this special moment together," he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Feeling left out of the hug, Dexter toddled over, his arms outstretched.

"Me too! Hug, Daddy!" he chimed in, joining the embrace with a giggle.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's enthusiasm, his heart overflowing with love for his two sons. Pulling them both close, he held them tightly, savoring the moment of pure happiness and love.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, laughter mingled with tears of joy. In that moment, surrounded by the love of his family, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the beautiful memories they had created together. And as they headed home, hand in hand, he knew that this day would be etched in their hearts forever.

[lessi-lover]

Like they go out with the rest of the team but then sneak away early and just go cuddle and watch tv or something

touch starved II k.mccabe ~

summary: you have team bonding but your girlfriend is missing you ★ touch starved II k.mccabe x reader

a breezy wind meandered through your slightly open window, bringing with it a slither of the afternoon sun that creeped past your curtains. you shifted under the covers, unintentionally stirring your sleeping girlfriend lying next to you. she lay flat on her stomach, her messy hair dishevelled across the sheets.

moving your eyes to gaze at the ceiling, you mentally mapped out your day, thinking back to the series of commitments you had made with your friends, something you were sure katie would have a few words about. you gently rubbed your eyes, allowing them to adapt to the light, shutting them again as the slight glare from the sun made you wince softly.

"morning, or should i say afternoon?" you spoke, your voice a soft murmur, as your lips gently brushed her forehead with a kiss. your fingers delicately weaved through her hair, lightly scratching at her scalp. she sighed contentedly, subtly moving upwards to invite more of your comforting touch.

you watched your girlfriend as she slightly adjusted her position, moving her head off her pillow and onto the soft linen sheets. you chuckled as a sigh from the girl made a strand of her hair catch wind, before falling back down into her charming tangle of hair.

"are you staring, love?" she mumbled with a lazy smile, her thick irish accent invading your ears, snapping you out of your trance. her emerald eyes, still heavy with sleep, opened slightly, looking up at you in amusement. "perhaps." you whispered in a teasing tone, a warm grin spreading across your face.

"quit it." she grinned, a giggle leaving her lips. her arms gently lifting upwards to smack against the mattress, sending a ripple through your sheets. her movement brought her closer, her hair cascading over you like a blanket. "can't help it." you replied, your gaze still lingering on her, captivated by her soft features.

"you're impossible," she declared, voice still thick with sleep. her smile widening, as she pressed her face into the sheets. "but that's why you love me," you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, hand gently running up her back.

"mmm, one of the many reasons." she hummed, her arms moving to wrap around your waist, face now resting against your shoulder. you let yourself relax into her warmth, matching your breaths to the rhythm of her own. she inched closer, her hands clasping behind your back, bringing your chests flushed together.

"my favourite girl," she nuzzled her nose into your collarbone, chuckling when she spotted the light blush that tinted your cheeks. no matter how long you and katie had been together, you still went pink at the slightest term of endearment from the irish girl.

"always know how to make my girl blush huh?" she laughed, throwing her head backwards when your cheeks only reddened at her words. "you do. everytime." you admitted, your hands still continuing their journey through her hair. "you're so adorable when you blush." katie replied, and you felt the red hue remaining on your face deepen.

she shifted again, her body tightening around you, as she tried her best effort to pull you even closer than before. with a huff, she skillfully pulled your body over her own, guiding your body to rest on top of her. you now rested on her chest, a laugh leaving your lips as she successfully maneuvered your body.

"there. that's better." she said, in a satisfied tone, her hands finding their way around your waist, holding you in place. her body radiated heat through your thin clothes, warming your cold skin. you couldn't help but smile, your girlfriend grinning like a happy kid with chocolate.

"comfortable now?" you teased, looking down at her, faces only mere millimeters apart. "much." she replied, cheekily kissing the side of your face. "got my love right where i want her." you lay there for a moment, breathing in the unusual peace. "team night remember?" you reminded her, though a large part of you yearned to stay in bed for the rest of the afternoon.

you were fully aware that katie might be a little reluctant to go to the team bonding night, so when her following words were, "do we really have to go?" you weren't surprised in the slightest. "unfortunately yes, baby." you responded with an apologetic smile, meeting her gaze.

"we did promise the girls, and you know steph and beth were looking forward to it. they've been planning it all week." her expression was a mix of annoyance and sadness, and you could already see the pout painted on her face. "but it's so warm here, darlin. and i never get to be with you when the girls are around." she protested, her grip on you tightening as if to emphasise her point.

"i know, love." you conceded, tracing your hand over the curve of her jawline. "but think about it, -it's just for a few hours and then you can come home and have me all to yourself." she sighed heavily, her pout turning into a smirk, as she looked up at you. "okay. but you owe me some cuddles when we get home." she negotiated. "deal." you said chuckling softly. "extra cuddles for you love."

attempting to untangle yourself from her proved difficult as she tightened her arms, reluctant to let go of you. finally, with a gentle struggle, you managed to break free and get up, only to feel her quickly grasp the waistband of your shorts, pulling you back down into her with a sly grin.

"katie! you said you would get up." "i never said when darlin."

~

arriving at beth and viv's house, you could already hear the unmistakable sound of chaos from outside. you could just catch muffled voices with bursts of laughter coming from inside, and you had no doubt that jen and beth were already putting leah's new karaoke machine to good use.

you exchanged an amused glance with your girlfriend as you approached the door, the deafening voices growing louder as you walked up the steps.

as you opened the door you were immediately greeted with myles their new dog. the friendly puppy welcoming you with excitement, as he wagged his tail furiously. "hello there, my baby!" you exclaimed, bending down to give him the attention he was craving. your hands moved gently up the sides, warming up his fluffy coat.

as you scratched lightly at his ears, you felt a pair of hands pinch your hip. glancing up, you saw your girlfriends signature scowl. "only call me baby." she complained, a sternness in her voice that couldn't hide the playful glint in her eyes.

you chuckled, lifting yourself off the floor to wrap your arm around her. "of course my favourite baby," you replied, giving her a small peck on the cheek.

grabbing your wrists, she pulled your body closer, connecting your lips together. her hands raised to your chin, deepening the kiss, before she swiped her tongue over your bottom lip. you felt you stomach flip, as she played with the baby hairs on your neck. you felt your air leave your lunges, as you tried to pull away from her touch, the brunette only holding you tighter.

tapping her shoulder, she finally let you go with a small bite at your top lip. pulling back, you looked up at her spotting her smirk and flushed lips. "you mean your only baby." she corrected, a teasing grin playing on her face. "yes, my only baby." you agreed, waving your hands to try and calm your blushed cheeks.

"well, well. mrs and mrs mccabe have arrived." kyra called out, and you realised that a series of eyes were now watching you both. "shove it, cooney." your girlfriend retorted, sending a glare towards your younger teammate, sending a playful jab into her arm. "just saying," she shrugged, her aussie accent bouncing off the walls.

as you and your girlfriend delved deeper into the house, your focus now shifted to the chaos unfolding in beth and viv's kitchen. flour dusted nearly every surface, and an array of toppings lay scattered along their counter.

the kitchen was filled with your teammates, each of them immersed in creating their questionable idea of a pizza. alessia claiming that because she had italian roots, she was too supervise the pizza making, however this quickly resulted in her becoming the 'babysitter', as she found herself running around the kitchen trying to stop kyra throwing flour at the other girls.

"so you want to gently fold the dough like this." the blonde gratefully taking on the role of demonstrating how to roll the pizza, her hands working the dough skillfully, as it turned into a smooth, circular base. "you don't want to roll it too much or the dough will become too tough." she explained, although you can't say you heard all of tips over the loud singing coming from the living room.

rolling your dough between your hands, you couldn't help but laugh at the state of viv sitting on a stool, correcting everyone's pizza making techniques. her sharp insults were delivered with a mix of love and sarcasm that was classic viv.

"you're rubbish laura!" she exclaimed, hands pointing to laura's pizza which had unfortunately made its way to the floor. her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she tried to save her dinner. giving up she shrugged it off, kim already by her side to help her clean the floor. the kitchen erupted in laughter, yourself sharing an amused look with katie.

decorating your dough, under alessia's watchful eye, a mischievous glint appeared in katie's eyes. without warning, she dipped her hand into the bag of flour and threw a handful of it in your direction. the white powder dusted your cheeks, leaving yourself in shock before you burst into a fit of laughter.

her actions lit a fire underneath your friends, their eyes lighting up and in seconds you could hear the unmistakable voice of kyra shouting out, "flour war!" instantly, the kitchen was turned from a pizza making class to battlefield, flour bombs being launched in every direction.

flour flew through the air, your teammates now covered in white dust. alessia tried her best to protest, "hey! we're making pizz-!" she yelled, but her words were barely out, before her face met the bowl of flour by lotte and all her morals went out the window.

as the flour war raged on, now beth and jen had joined in, their attention turned to steph. with sauce in hand, they ran around targeting a screaming steph, before they landed in a pile of limbs, the three of them collapsing in a heap on the floor.

you heard shouts next to you, watching as vic went down with a war cry, desperately trying to fend of a determined kyra from hitting her. darting around the kitchen, you felt sudden hand tug on the back of your jumper. your body swiftly hauled backwards into somebody's chest. you recognised the familiar hold immediately, a hand holding flour in front of your face.

"your tan is better that mine. i think you need some of this, love!"

"katie no-!"

~

settling on the couch, the group of you had spent the majority of the last few hours cleaning up the mess you had made, the remnants of your fight still visible on all your faces, with everyone exhausted from their cleaning efforts.

after much deliberation, and considering the state of the kitchen, leah suggested abandoning the homemade pizza idea, and instead just ordering a few pizza's to share. her suggestion was met with an array of agreement across the girls. except for a grumbling alessia, with her italian pride still intact, she claimed that "it's never as good as the real thing."

the movie played, the glow of the screen reflecting on all your faces. some were sprawled across the couch, the lounge adorned with pillows and blankets, yourself content in your girlfriend's arms, myles resting soundly on your lap.

as the beginning scene played, you felt katie move her body closer to your own, her lips brushing past your ear. "i'm going to grab a drink. come with me, darlin?" her question was casual, but there was a hint of something else in her eyes that suggested she wanted more than just a drink.

"sure baby." you agreed, moving the sleeping puppy of your lap, his paws padding over to vic, who welcomed him under her blanket. snacks began being passed around, yourself getting up of katie's lap, making your way to the spare bedroom, as she followed not far behind.

you began to follow her lead, the sound of your friends' laughter fading into the background, as you ventured further down the hall. katie's hand found yours, as she gently guided you through the house.

once inside the spare bedroom, katie closed the door softly behind you both, turning to face you with an affectionate smile. "what's up, love?" you asked, confused with her sudden behavior. "just wanted a moment alone with you." she said, her voice low and warm. "i haven't gotten to be with you tonight." she frowned, a small pout on her lips.

you reached out, bringing her touch - starved body closer to yours, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. she walked you forwards, your steps falling into the same pattern as her own. just as your calves brushed against the end of the bed, your girlfriend crash tackled you into the sheets.

the tackle sent you both into a fit of giggles, the sound echoing warmly against the walls. as you lay there, your limbs tangled across bed, her breath tickled your skin as she breathed in your comforting scent. her finger lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meets hers.

as her lips ghosted over yours, there was a moment of anticipation, as if time seemed to stand still. it always felt like this with katie. then as she connected them together, it felt like a perfectly practiced dance, one of familiarity and discovery, that made you feel loved.

her tongue once again swiped against your lip, silently asking for permission, which you gave willingly. she deepened the kiss, her hand tangling in your hair, as she tried to the gap between you. it felt fueled, your breath stolen from your lungs. your teeth clashed together, and you felt her smile into the kiss.

pulling back you kissed her jawline, finger tracing over her freckles. your hands found each other, interlocking by your side. you lay there for a moment, both of you catching your lost breaths. she wrapped her legs tightly around your midsection, smiling down at you. she pressed a warm kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering before she pressed another to your cheek.

you now wrapped her hair around your own fingers, moving her hair out her face as she let out a satisfied breath, moving her hand down to rest against your hip. she placed a series of loving kisses on your chest, the thin singlet making it easy for her to access.

after a moment of comfortable silence, you broke the quiet. "we should get back to the girls, shouldn't we." you suggested, your voice soft as you gazed up at the brunette. "we don't have to." she responded with a guilty smile, her thumbs rubbing gently against your wrists.

her suggestion was tempting enough, but you could already hear the likely footsteps of your teammates outside. "katie." you begged, unable to push her off your body. she groaned, her head falling backwards, as she now seized your wrists above your head.

"katie!" you exclaimed with a gasp, as the brunette playfully belly flopped onto you. the impact of her fall knocking the air from your lungs. her laughter mixed with yours as she held you tightly. "soon, darling." she tucked her head into your chest, a content sigh leaving her lips.

suddenly a series of loud knocks interrupted your laughter, jolting you both out of the moment.

"you better be fully dressed-!"

~

[the-fiction-witch]

Cuddles P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Lucerys Velaryon (Age up) Couple - Lucerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Betrothal) Rating - Smutty Word Count - 2934 Part One

They weaved in and out through the winding caves and tunnels as they tried to keep from tripping over themselves. Lucerys, for all his efforts, was finding it quite the challenge to keep up with Y/n, as she had a bit of a lead on him. He didn’t mind it much however, seeing as how he got a good view of her every once in a while as they ran through the caves.

The pair looked like madmen to the dragon keepers, giggling as they bolted up the castle steps. Lucerys was running a bit faster, but he was losing steam quickly, starting to wheeze and pant with every step. He tried his best to keep up with her, not wanting to lose the race.

"aww? Tried out Luke?" Y/n stopped at the top of the stairs turning to face him as he was almost halfway down, "it's alright take your time, I'm sure we'll get your stamina up over time!" she smirked as she grabbed the hem of her shirt dress and for a few brief seconds she pulled it up flashing him her skin, as well as the tight binding around her breasts before she dropped it down again, she winked and blew him a kiss before she continues to bolt towards her chambers.

His mouth was agape as he got a good look of her binding where she always wrapped up for a dragon ride and the skin of her stomach, the sight alone making his heart race. He growled to himself, his face beet red as he ran after her.

She was getting further and further away, and his legs were getting tired. He had a competitive fire in his stomach, however, and the image of her in her dress and her exposed stomach was just too enticing to give up now.

finally he got into the castle and he knew it wasn't far to her chambers with almost everything he had he bolted to the chamber wheezing and gasping but finally he got there and saw her sitting on her bed waiting for him having tossed her archery equipment by the door,

He stopped right at the entrance to her room, panting and wheezing loudly with every breath, trying to suck in as much air as he can. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to steady himself, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to recover from the sprint. The sight of her made him want to run and pounce on her right then and there.

"awww you poor thing, come here" she cooed as she saw just how much he was struggling, she took his hand and let him sit in her bed with her "come here my sweetheart," she cooed wrapping her arms around him and pulling his head to lay on her chest so he could match his breathing to hers, and her hand stroking his hair,

His breathing slowed as his head leaned against her chest, listening to her heartbeat and matching it with every breath. The sound of her sweet voice was soothing, and he found himself immediately relaxing in her embrace. Her hand stroking his hair felt amazing, and he began to melt into her. His own hand snaked its way around her midsection, grasping gently as if he needed to hold onto something to keep himself grounded and a satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

"Aww that better lucerys? All nice and snug?" She cooed kissing his forehead,

He nodded, a soft smile on his face as she kissed his forehead. He nuzzled himself further into her embrace, his hand still rubbing her stomach. He closed his eyes and buried his face against her chest, listening to the soothing sound of her heart beat, as if it were a lullaby. “Mhm. This is much better.” he muttered, his voice soft and raspy from the running.

"Good, well you snuggle as close and as tight as you want!"

He took her by her word and snuggled up in her embrace tighter. His grip on her increased, to the point where she was surprised at just how much strength he used to pull her close. Despite all his previous excitement and arousal, the exhaustion of running quickly caught up to him, and the comfort of her bed combined with her arms around him made his eyelids grow heavy as a wave of drowsiness began to overwhelm him.

"humm sleepy boy" she cooed,

Despite his eyes being closed, a small smile crept across his face. The sound of her voice was like honey to his ears and filled him with the feeling of comfort. As for all his previous excitement and eagerness from their race and the possibility of what they could do, now all he wanted to do was to lay in her arms and rest against her. ”Mhm,” he muttered in agreement, his voice still soft and raspy, “just for a moment…”

"how about this, you stay awake just a couple extra minutes while I get changed okay? I'm still in my riding clothes after all. And if you stay awake till I'm changed then I promise you get to cuddle up and snuggle with me while you have a little nap, and while you're napping those hands can wander wherever they like, that a deal?"

His eyes jolted open at her proposition, a feeling of excitement surging through him all of a sudden. He was tired of course, but the idea of being allowed free reign over her body while he got to rest was too enticing to ignore. He quickly nodded his head, looking up at her with wide eyes. ”Yeah,” he said quickly, practically stumbling over the word in his eagerness. “Yeah, deal.”

Y/n chuckled and gave his cheek another kiss before she climbed off the bed, "hummm what should I wear... Not really bedtime for a nightie, but we don't want anything too thick and heavy for laying in bed" she teased as she flicked though her wardrobe

Lucerys watched her, his eyes tracing her body from his spot on the bed. He noticed that her trousers and blouse were starting to cling to her body from all the sweat from their running, and it made his eyes start to linger in certain spots. ”I don’t know,” he said slowly, his eyes still traveling up and down her body, “if it gets me more time to look at you… I don’t mind what you pick out.” he added with a smirk.

"humm... I know the perfect thing" she smiled as she picked out a dress,

His eyes widened a bit when she pulled out the black and red summer dress. It was light and thin, the perfect thing for the warm summer nights, but it left little to the imagination. He smirked as he saw it laid out before her, his eyes already taking in the contours of her body beneath the fabric. “Gods, yes,” he mumbled under his breath, his eyes still watching her as she prepared to change.

"a gentleman would turn away if a lady was charging" she teased as she began by putting her foot up on the bed and slowly unlacing her boot

He chuckled as she teased him, although he didn’t turn away. He watched her intently as she unlaced her boot, his eyes raking up her leg in a not-so-gentlemanly way. He smiled deviously as he leaned back into the bed, his arms behind his head as he got a better view of her from his lying position. “You never said I had to turn away,” he shot back with a smirk.

"no, I suppose not. After all we are going to be married soon" she chuckled slipping off her boots leaving her feet bare

He chuckled along with her, his eyes looking down at her bare feet, admiring them for a moment. They were slender and slender and smooth, and he had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss them. He quickly snapped himself out of that thought however as he smirked playfully at her once more. “Well if we’re going to be wed then, I might as well get used to seeing you change, right?” he taunted.

"true" she smiled as she unlaced the red trousers, they where almost skin tight for her curves given the trousers were made for men and thus didn't properly fit her, she slowly tugged them off exposing her bare legs but her little shirt dress concealing her intimates

He took in her bare legs almost like a starved man staring at a feast. His eyes feasted on her exposed skin trailing up each inch exposed to him, appreciating the view he had of her legs and what was hidden beneath her shirt dress. He could feel the growing excitement within him, a feeling that only increased as she turned away to throw her trousers to the side. ”You’re a tease,” he stated bluntly, grinning as he did so, “but gods, I love it.”

she chuckled as she lifted her shirt dress over her head and tossed it with her trousers leaving her with only the binding around her chest to keep her concealed, with her bare ass him but she glanced over her shoulder to watch him looking at her

His eyes widened, His cheeks went from rosy pink to dark red as he got caught ogling her, but he didn’t care. He shamelessly looked at her, his eyes roaming over her body from behind, taking in every inch of her smooth skin. ”Seven Hells… you’re beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, his voice a combination of awe and desire.

"does it excite you?" She asked moving her hand to undo the binding slowly but surely unwrapping it from around her chest each inch it unwraps her chest getting looser and looser,

His breathing began to quicken as he watched her. His eyes darted down to her hands, following the pattern they made as she unwrapped her chest, his imagination going wild as he thought of what she would look like without it and all those layers concealing her body. ”Gods yes,” he said, his voice a bit shaky as he watched her, “you have no idea how much.” His eyes never once left her body, not even to blink it seemed as he fixated on her every move.

she chuckled "I'm sure I have some Idea Luke" she teased her eyes meeting with the very obvious bulge in his trousers

He swallowed as her eyes flicked between his and the tent in his pants. He knew it was there, as it has been there ever since they raced. He could feel himself growing more and more excited the more her body was exposed. He wanted to pounce on her right there and then, and only sheer force of will and her promise of him being able to have free reign of her body held him back from doing so. “Tease,” he replied back, panting slightly as he watched her hands work the binding.

"maybe" she smiled as she finally Finished with her binding leaving her completely exposed her whole self to him,

He practically had to pick his jaw up off the floor as the last piece of her binding came off. His eyes widened, staring with his mouth hung open in awe. She was beautiful, he already knew it, but now in this moment, seeing her completely exposed, he thought she was the most beautiful thing in all of Westeros. It was as if he was staring at a work of art, he couldn’t bring himself to speak for a few moments. “Gods… you’re…” he started to say, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. His mouth hung open for a few more seconds as he stared at her, trying to work up the words to describe how he felt in that moment. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he had to force himself not to jump from the bed and take her right then and there. But he stayed, letting his eyes drink in the wonderful sight before him, of her gorgeous hair, stunning face, sweet slender neck, perfect perky breasts, sweet waist, ravishing hips, an immaculate cunt, precious thighs, and long beautiful legs. "Gods, you're perfect," he finally whispered, his voice filled with reverence.

"awww your too sweet Luke" she laughed, As she stood with her arms behind her back making sure he got a good view of every inch of her body, "You excited? That this is the body you'll be married to?"

“I- I will thank the gods daily, for the honour of being married to you. And your… Captivating body,”

Y/n chuckled grabbing the dress she picked out and tossing it over her head slipping it on, the dress just met her knees, no sleeves, and was thin enough he could see every curve, she smiled and gave him a little twirl "this one nice?"

Lucerys couldn't help but watch her the way it hugged every curve of her body. His eyes practically followed her every movement as the dress went on her body, and when she spun around to show it off, he had to swallow back the lump in his throat and force himself to keep breathing regularly. "Gods yes," he said with an almost strangled voice, his eyes never leaving her body, "definitely this one."

"you ready for a cuddle?"

”Yeah, yeah, I’m ready,” he replied, a smile on his face, “and more than ready to have my hands on you.”

Y/n chuckled as she came and sat on the bed her back against the headboard opening her arms for him to come cuddle her

He quickly and eagerly scooted over to her, practically falling into her arms. His body pressed up against hers, his hand snaking around her waist as he laid his head against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, holding her body snug and close to his, his face resting just above her breasts.

she laughed a little at him "Egar aren't you, I see where Arrax gets it from when he's cuddled up with Silverspike"

He chuckled, ”Well it’s not everyday I get to cuddle against the most beautiful woman in Westeros, you know,” he replied, nuzzling his face further into her chest and taking a deep breath. Her scent was intoxicating, and it only increased his hunger to be even closer to her.

"awww your so sweet" she cooed kissing his forehead

He smiled at the feeling of her lips on his skin, enjoying the sweet gesture despite his own hunger. While his body was begging to ravish her right there and then, he found himself enjoying this moment of tenderness between them as well. He buried his face deeper into her chest, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the feeling of her body against his.

"you enjoying your little snuggle?" she broke the silence after a good while,

He nodded into her chest, his arms still wrapped tight around her, holding her body close to his. Her voice was soft and soothing, almost like a song that beckoned him to fall asleep, but he refused to give in just yet despite how tired he was. “Mhm. It’s perfect,” he mumbled against her chest, his face pressed into her flesh as he nuzzled into her.

"good, you enjoy it sweetheart. And remember our deal you can cuddle and kiss and touch whatever you'd like to have only to ask"

A feeling of excitement washed over him as she reminded him of their deal, and his mind immediately went crazy with thoughts of all the things he could do to her and where he would start. His hand began to wander, gently caressing her stomach as he mumbled against her chest. “I know,” he whispered, his voice still raspy and a bit shaky, “but I don’t know where to start first…”

"whatever you'd like too" she cooed "anywhere that might help this poor tense boy" she cooed stroking her hand across his hip and then over the bulge that had formed

He exhaled deeply, a shaky breath escaping his lips as her hand moved over his hips, now mere inches away from the tent that was already forming in his pants. His hand stopped caressing her stomach as he grew more and more tense, his muscles growing taut as his excitement began to build. “Gods, don’t tease…” he mumbled, his body practically shivering at her touch, “I don’t think I’ll last long otherwise…”

"I won't tease, I won't touch, it's all up to you" she smiled moving her hands to simply play with his hair

He practically groaned at her words, both in frustration and in anticipation. On one hand, he was already growing impatient with her gentle teasing, his frustration rising as she kept refusing to touch him where he wanted. But on the other hand, he knew that she was only doing this to drive him crazy, and the thought of her in control made him even more excited. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and leaned into her touch as she ran her hands through his hair. “Gods you’re cruel…” he said with a hoarse voice. He closed his eyes as she continued to play with his hair, his body relaxing into her touch. But his mind was still racing, still consumed by thoughts of her body and the desire to touch her. His hand on her stomach had started to wander again, gently tracing the outline of her curves. “I want to touch you…” he muttered after a moment, his voice thick with desire, “I want to touch you everywhere….”

"of course, that was our deal you can touch anything you like so long as you ask"

[meazalykov]

halloween costume

laura freigang x actress!reader

summary: while going to a party with your fiancee, she starts to tease you about a reoccurring event

the sound of laughter and chatter fills the air as you step out of the car, hand in hand with laura. 

the crisp october air nips at your skin, but the warmth from your fiancée’s presence makes it bearable. you squeeze laura’s hand, flashing her a grin as the two of you approach the house where one of her teammates is hosting the huge halloween party.

"are you ready?" laura asks, her german accent smooth as ever, a playful smile tugging at her lips. 

she's dressed as a pirate, a leather vest hugging her athletic frame, a bandana tied around her dark blonde hair.

you’re dressed as a pirate as well, nearly identical to laura. 

"i think the real question is if you are," you tease, tugging at the collar of her vest. "after all, you’re frankfurt’s football star here. i’m just here for the snacks."

laura chuckles, eyes sparkling as she leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple. "you’re way more than that," she whispers, and you can’t help but blush a little. 

the party is packed, as expected. frankfurt players, local celebrities, and plenty of people from town crowd the house and yard, all dressed up in elaborate costumes. 

the energy is infectious, and you can’t help but feel excited. it’s been a while since you had time to just relax and enjoy yourself. with filming starting again in january, this time with laura is precious.

"look at all these costumes," you say, scanning the room as you walk inside. "everyone really went all out."

laura hums in agreement, her eyes also darting around the room. "there’s a lot of ghost faces too, huh?"

you snicker at her observation. it’s only been eight months since your portrayal of ghost face in the newest scream movie hit theaters, and clearly, the character has made quite an impression.

“maybe they’re trying to pay homage to me,” you joke, though there’s a proud twinkle in your eye. laura just smirks at your playful confidence.

as you weave through the crowd, you suddenly spot someone wearing a ghost face robe, a wig matching your hair color, and sfx makeup that looks eerily familiar to the scene where your character was killed.

"laura, look at that," you nudge her with your elbow, pointing at the person. "they look just like drew in the movie!"

drew was the name of your character.

laura glances over and bursts into laughter, clutching her side. "oh my god, they really do!"

you can’t help but join her, your laughter mixing with hers. it’s surreal and flattering all at once. 

you played ghost face in that movie, but it wasn’t just the mask — it was you underneath, with the same hair, the same body language. and now, here someone is, practically a carbon copy.

"that’s insane," you shake your head, amused. "guess i’m more popular than i thought."

"you’re the actress the world loves, babe," laura says with a wink. 

"germany might adore me, but you’re on a whole other level."

"oh, stop it," you say, lightly swatting at her arm. "you know this crowd loves you just as much, if not more."

you aren’t lying. the attention you receive in germany isn’t as much as laura gets. most of your fans are english or american.

as the night goes on, the two of you bump into some of laura’s teammates, including nicole, who’s wearing a nice indiana fever costume.

"y/n!" nicole calls, waving as she approaches you with a bright smile. 

"i see there’s no shortage of ghost faces here tonight. i think everyone’s obsessed with your character!"

"honestly, it’s insane," you laugh. 

"i’ve seen at least five already. not sure how i feel about it."

nicole grins, her eyes scanning the room. "oh, speaking of, one’s coming your way right now."

you turn your head just in time to see another ghost face making their way toward you, the familiar black robe swaying with each step. 

this one’s holding their phone out in front of them, clearly looking a bit nervous but determined.

"hi y/n, i’m so sorry to interrupt, but i’m a huge fan," they say, their voice muffled under the mask. 

"can i get a picture with you? your portrayal of ghost face was amazing."

a soft smile tugs at your lips. "of course," you reply, always happy to meet fans who appreciate your work. 

"thank you so much for the kind words."

you stand beside them as they pull out their phone and take off their mask, posing for a quick picture. 

laura watches the whole exchange with a playful glint in her eyes. as soon as the fan walks away, she can’t resist.

“oh my god, y/n, i’m such a big fan! can i get, like, ten pictures with you please?” laura dramatically gasps, pretending to fawn over you as she pulls out her film camera, taking on the role of an exaggerated fan.

you burst out laughing, rolling your eyes at her theatrics. "laura, calm down," you giggle, trying to wave her off, but she’s already snapped a few shots of you.

"no, no, seriously, i’m your biggest fan!" she continues, mock gasping and throwing her hands up. 

"i’ll even frame them in the apartment! please, just a few more!"

"okay, okay, that’s enough," you laugh, swatting at her camera. "you’re going to run out of film if you keep this up."

but laura’s grinning, clearly having way too much fun with her impromptu photoshoot. 

"oh come on, y/n, you know i’m your biggest supporter. it’s not every day i get to party with a horror icon."

you roll your eyes affectionately. "i swear, you’re worse than my fans."

“it’s just ‘cause i’m marrying a horror icon,” she teases, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. 

“and don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

you smile, leaning into her touch. "okay, maybe i do love it. just a little."

"thought so," laura smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

"you’re stuck with me and my endless teasing." she whispers against your lips.

"i wouldn’t have it any other way," you admit softly, feeling the warmth of her embrace as the night continues around you. 

masterlist

happy halloween 🎃

[shitsndgiggs]

hi girl,

i hope you’re okay !

i was hoping that you’re write something on hector fort (again sorry 🙃)..

maybe something like, the reader and him are talking together. he is stressed for his match because it’s a very important match and she tries to make him calm down. like a fluff/fluffy stuff and could you add (during their conversation) he told her that he wants her to keep his jewels so he give his jewels to her and she was going to put his jewels on her bag but he wanted her to wear his jewels so he puts his jewels on her. and then at the end of the match they are talking and the barca boys make fun of their relationship at the end (just kidding).

LUCKY CHARM - HÉCTOR FORT

Keeping Héctor’s necklace safe

Héctor Fort x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The stadium buzzed with the anticipation of the crowd. Hector stood just outside the locker room, pacing back and forth as the weight of the upcoming match settled heavily on his shoulders.

It wasn’t just any game; this was a crucial match for Barcelona, and the pressure was suffocating.

I spotted him from a distance, his shoulders tense and his expression drawn tight. I made my way over, weaving through the pre-match chaos.

“Hey, Hector,” I called softly, and he glanced up, his gaze softening when he saw me.

“Hey,” he said, forcing a small smile.

I stepped closer, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. “You look like you’re carrying the whole team on your back already,” I joked lightly. “You’re going to do great, okay? Just remember why you love this game.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t know, Y/N,” he confessed. “This match feels… different. There’s so much at stake.”

“I know,” I replied gently. “But you’ve prepared for this. You’ve worked so hard, and you have the whole team behind you. You just need to trust yourself.”

Hector nodded, though his brow still creased with worry. “It’s just… there’s so much pressure.”

I squeezed his arm a little tighter and gave him a reassuring smile. “Take it one step at a time. I’ll be watching the whole time, cheering you on.”

He let out a breath, a hint of a smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips. “You always know how to calm me down,” he said quietly.

Then, he suddenly reached for the chain around his neck, unclasping the simple silver necklace he always wore. He held it out to me.

“Here,” he said, his voice a bit steadier now. “I can’t play with this on… and I want you to keep it safe for me.”

I took the necklace from his hand, feeling the weight of it against my palm. “I’ll put it in my bag—”

Before I could finish, Hector reached out, stopping me. “No,” he said, shaking his head with a soft smile. “I want you to wear it.”

He took the necklace and gently slipped it around my neck, fastening the clasp behind me. His fingers lingered for a moment at the nape of my neck, and I felt a warm flutter in my chest.

“There,” he murmured. “It looks good on you.”

I touched it lightly, feeling a little bashful under his gaze. “I’ll keep it safe,” I promised. “Now, go out there and show them what you’ve got.”

Hector nodded, his expression more relaxed than it had been before. “For you,” he said with a wink. “I’ll make sure I play my best.”

The match was electric, with the crowd roaring at every play. I watched anxiously from the stands, my fingers instinctively gripping Hector’s necklace whenever the tension on the pitch intensified.

Barcelona fought hard, and despite the pressure, Hector played with an undeniable fire, pushing himself at every turn.

As the final whistle blew, signaling Barcelona’s victory, the stadium erupted in cheers. I jumped to my feet, clapping and shouting along with the crowd.

The relief and pride on Hector’s face were clear as he ran towards me, his hair still damp with sweat.

I rushed down to the edge of the pitch to meet him, and he swept me into a tight hug. “You did it!” I exclaimed, pulling back to look at him, a wide grin on my face. “I knew you could.”

“It wasn’t just me,” he said, his voice breathless from the match. “But… having you here really helped.”

Before I could respond, a few of Hector’s teammates came jogging over, grinning widely. Gavi, was the first to notice the silver necklace still hanging around my neck.

“Oi, Y/N!” Gavi called out, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Isn’t that Hector’s necklace?”

I glanced down, realizing that I’d forgotten to take it off. “Uh, yeah, it is,” I replied, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Another player, Balde, raised an eyebrow, smirking as he exchanged a knowing glance with Gavi. “He gave you his good luck charm, huh?” he teased, nudging Hector playfully. “No wonder you played so well today.”

Hector rolled his eyes, though a faint blush colored his cheeks. “Oh, shut up,” he muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but his smile betrayed him.

“Are we going to see Y/N wearing it at every game now?” another teammate joked, causing the group to burst into laughter.

“Yeah, Hector, is this your new pre-match ritual?” Gavi continued, grinning at Hector’s flustered expression.

I laughed, shaking my head as I looked over at Hector, whose ears were turning a bit red. “I guess it worked, didn’t it?” I said playfully, reaching up to touch the necklace.

Hector gave a sheepish shrug, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe it did,” he said softly, his gaze meeting mine again. “Guess you’re my lucky charm.”

The teasing from his teammates continued for a few more moments, but Hector didn’t seem to mind.

He glanced at me, a quiet warmth in his eyes, and I could tell that even amid all the joking, there was something genuine behind his gesture.

As the team dispersed to celebrate their victory, Hector leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “Thank you for being here,” he said, his tone sincere. “And for keeping me grounded.”

I smiled, reaching out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll always be here, Hector,” I replied softly. “And I’ll keep your necklace safe… for whenever you need it.”

With one last glance at the silver hanging around my neck, Hector grinned. “I’ll need it back soon,” he said, his tone light. “But I kind of like it on you.”

[flowercrowngods]

It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.

Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.

It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.

Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.

Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.

It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.

It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.

Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.

They have a couch now. A sofa.

It's so fucking unreal.

He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.

And it feels really fucking big.

At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.

For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.

The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.

It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.

And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."

"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.

Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.

Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.

"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.

"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."

Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.

Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.

And it's so unreal.

"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."

Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"Why's it crazy, angel?"

He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.

"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."

Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.

"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."

"We've got a couch now."

Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.

"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."

Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."

And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.

But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.

And they have each other.

They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.

In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.

Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

[ninthcircleofprythian]

When You Wish Upon a Star

Azris - Azriel/Eris

Word Count - 1k

Warnings - tooth rotting fluff and domesticity, some sexual innuendo

Author's Note - Based off of this post - I thought about it. And then couldn't stop. Also big thanks once again to @tsunami-of-tears for the divider.

Azriel heard the door click and knew who it was without even opening his eyes. The soft padding of footsteps across the carpeted floor matched the pattern that he had memorized well over the years. He remained still, tall body lounging across the full length of the sofa knowing that his shadows had already given away that he was awake.

The air around him shifted as the shadows that swirled around his mate in greeting returned. With a heavy sigh, Eris folded his body and plopped to sit on the floor before the furniture. 

“Long day?,” Az drawled, eyes still closed but one scarred hand reaching out to caress Eris’ loose strands of hair. 

“Insufferably long,” Eris grumbled. “Who knew High Lords could throw such tantrums over the most minor of decisions.”

Azriel chuckled as he righted himself to sitting, feet planted on either side of Eris on the floor. “I don’t think that's anything new, my love.”

The tension in Eris’ shoulders bled away as those large scarred hands continued their ministrations stroking over his scalp and combing through his hair. “If it wasn’t for your influence as my mate I’m fairly certain Rhysand would have thrown the biggest tantrum of them all.”

Az could hear the smirk in Eris’ voice as he chuckled deeply once more. “Again, thats nothing new.”

Leaning back into the comforting touch of his mate, Eris hummed with satisfaction. Combing his fingers through the deep rust colored strands, Azriel brought his fingers to the nape of Eris’ neck with a gentle squeeze before gathering his hair and filling his palm with it. 

“Relax, my love.” His mouth so close to his ear, whispering soft and low, sent a shiver through Eris’ body. He closed his eyes and leaned further into the sofa behind him as Az began separating the strands into bundles. 

Slowly, Az smoothed out what he had gathered and with deft fingers began weaving over and under, pulling those glossy locks into an intricate braid. Only a couple passes later, the soft click of the door sounded once more.

“Daddy?” The tiny sleepy voice of their daughter broke through the easy silence. “You’re home.” Little barefoot feet approached, hands rubbing at drowsy eyes.

“I am,” Eris said as he gathered her cherub cheeks between his palms as she stood before him. “But you should be in bed. It’s very late,” Eris admonished gently as he pulled her face towards his own and planted a kiss to her forehead. 

She remained where she was, dark eyes staring between her parents, mind still foggy with interrupted sleep. Eris stared right back, eyes roaming over her features. Ones that seemed to have changed so quickly. No longer the soft round face of an infant but all too quickly shifting into the face of a child. While she wasn’t biologically theirs, no one could convince Eris’ heart of such a thing. The love he felt, the constant worry over her safety and happiness, the overwhelming urge to hold her against his chest and never let her grow up was entirely all consuming. 

“I want my hair braided too, Papa,” her voice broke through the reverie, pleading eyes now landing on Azriel.

“Just a minute, honey. Let me finish Daddy’s hair first.” His hands continued their steady measured weaving.

“Come here, pumpkin,” Eris said as he shifted into a crossed leg position. “I’ll do it.”

Seemingly satisfied with his offer, she turned around and planted her small body squarely into the well of Eris’ lap. Combing his long fingers through, he began to tame the tangles of sleep before he began.

Az continued working as his mind wandered. The braid itself didn’t need his attention as it was a long held custom within this household. Nights of elusive sleep, days of unending stress - they all seemed to end with Azriel’s hands in Eris’ hair one way or another. 

Taking in the sight before him, his mate folded elegantly along the floor, their daughter seated comfortably in his lap, Az couldnt stop the twist of melancholy in his chest. He had never dreamed that this would be his life and yet he wouldn’t change a single thing about it. 

“Daddy?,” that tiny voice sounded once more. “Why do you call me pumpkin? Is it because you are from Autumn Court?”

Eris huffed out a laugh. “I hadn’t really thought about it that way, pumpkin,” he answered with a kiss to the crown of her head. “It just seemed fitting, but I guess it must have something to do with being from Autumn.”

The silence fell once more just as Az reached the end of his braid. Pulling a thin leather tie from his pocket he secured his masterpiece with a smile and a squeeze to Eris’ shoulder.

“Is that why Papa sometimes calls you his shooting star? Because he’s from Night?” 

Az felt the shoulder beneath his hand tense just as he threw his head back in a surprised bark of a laugh. He could practically feel the embarrassed heat rolling off of his mate at the question.

“No, honey,” Az laughed as he wiped away a tear. “I sometimes call Daddy my shooting star because he gave me everything I could have ever wished for.” 

Whipping around, Eris’ eyes met the dark ones of his mate, so similar to their daughters. The smirk melted from his face into a soft look of adoration. “Very smooth,” his tone like velvet.

Turning back to the task at hand, Eris finished the tail of the tiny braid in his hands.

“There. All finished,” he patted his daughters side. “Now up, come on. Time for bed. I’ll tuck you in.”

Unfurling his legs and bracing on the scarred hand offered to him, Eris unfolded into standing, with Az following suit. 

“Good night, Papa!” Little arms threw themselves around his legs before Az lifted the tiny girl into his arms. 

“Good night – again.” With a kiss to her cheek, he planted her back upon the floor to follow his mate down the hallway. 

“I’ll be upstairs,” Az said as he pressed a kiss to his mate’s hand. “Waiting to make a wish on another shooting star.” With a sly wink and a smile, Azriel turned toward the stairs.

“Clever. Very clever.” Eris’ eyes twinkled as they narrowed on his mate. “I’ll have you seeing stars, alright.”

Throwing his head back, Azriel let loose a deep laugh. “I can’t wait.”

General Taglist -

@mybestfriendmademe

@lilah-asteria

@chairofchaos

@pit-and-the-pen

@prythianpages

[thiddleston]

[I wrote an Adar lives Adariel ficlet set in Rivendell while they're recuperating

Mutual hair braiding and deja vu ensues]

Adar goes to visit Galadriel's tent at night to talk and finds her sitting on a tree stump by her bed roll attempting to brush and braid her hair for the night. However, the ache in her wound makes it difficult and she huffs in frustration while trying to talk to him.

He offers to assist and she hesitantly accepts with a skeptical inquiry as to whether he knows how to braid hair. He only responds with a long-suffering raised eyebrow and taking the brush from her hand moves around to stand behind her and begins.

She finds herself simultaneously too relaxed and too tense with his ministrations and she distracts herself with chatting about little nothings and eventually they fall into a comfortable silence with him steadily working at her hair.

When he finishes, she surprises him with a reciprocal offer to do his hair, and after a beat too long of silence, she almost thinks he'll decline. Then, without a word, he nods as he hands her the brush and turns to kneel down with his back to her.

She starts brushing but realizes he's still too tall for her to work comfortably and bids him to sit between her legs against the tree stump. He settles in as she resumes and they revive their small talk and delicately dance around deeper topics until once again slipping into silence—the only sounds being the quiet of her fingers weaving his hair and his own private battle to keep breathing steadily.

His battle is quickly lost though as her fingers keep brushing into his scalp and a soft stuttered moan escapes his throat, but though he tenses his back, she spares him by continuing as if nothing happened.

As she finishes the end of the fishtail braid she's given him to match the one he’d given her, she sets aside the brush and rests her hands on his shoulders in a wordless offer. Inch by inch he accepts it as he relaxes his muscles and slowly leans back to rest his head on her shoulder—her right shoulder to spare her wounded left.

Galadriel slides her hands forward to wrap around him and tilts her head to the side to catch his eyes. "This seems familiar," a cautious humor to her voice.

Adar smirks lightly, "At least you don't have a dagger to my throat for a third time."

They gaze at each other in a mimic of those memories for a moment. This time though, with no sharp objects to stop him, he slowly tilts his head closer—first brushing his nose against her cheek, then mouthing light kisses at the corner of her mouth and jaw.

Galadriel, with eyes closed, is utterly lost to sensation. Adar continues like this, kissing every bit of her face he can reach, for an amount of time she could not possibly describe until it is her turn to release a moan. At the sound, his lips barely leave her skin to whisper, "Tell me to stop and I will."

Galadriel only tightens her hold and opens her eyes to look sharply at him. "If you dare stop now then I will hold a dagger to your throat again."

A deep sound between a hum and a chuckle rumbles from Adar's chest as he continues to nuzzle her face with his, "Is that a promise, my light?"

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 2)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Cocaine Hangover and Attending Sobriety Resources

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Rafe wakes up the next day remembering his mistakes and realizes he needs to change.

Masterlist

The massive headache he has from the cocaine he did last night makes him question why he does it in the first place. Jaw pain is not unusual for him thanks to the substance, but it still doesn’t mean it can’t hurt. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and it helps him clearly see the sweat stain on his pillow. The deep breath he takes brings clarity to last night's events; panic starts to weave through his mind. Y/N is never going to forgive him for going to her house while high and saying what he said. The fury she held is definitely not one he want to meet in court, especially since he built a case against himself. This stress needs to leave him and he knows one substance that would help him relax. It’s the same thing he turns to every time he argues with his dad. He sniffles in an attempt to bring moisture back to his nose, but it doesn’t work. His hand shakes as he tries to open the ziplock bag filled with the white substance. 

And then he thinks about those small blue eyes that match his eyes. The excitement in her voice as she saw her mother. The way her beautiful hair blew in the wind as she ran around the counter. It stops his fingers from going any further. If he keeps turning toward drugs, he will never get to see her again. She’ll never get to know that he is her daddy and that he cares for her even if she doesn’t him. She’ll never get to tell him about her favourite TV shows or food. He wonders if she needs a night light to go to sleep and how many stories she likes to read before bedtime. He doesn’t even know his own daughter’s name. 

He needs to change because he wants to find all that stuff out. He told Y/N that he would’ve changed if he knew about their daughter and he is going to prove that he truly meant it. The first thing he needs to do is get a therapist and get clean. That’s his new goal. All he wants as of now is to be the best father he can be to the little girl. 

——

“I’m Rafe and I am an addict.” The other members of the meeting all retort with the typical anonymous meeting greeting. He didn’t think he had a problem, but his therapist begged to differ. She says that if he really wants to be in his daughter’s life, he has to show Y/N that drugs aren’t more important than their daughter. “I started using it when I was in my senior year of high school,” he starts to explain. “Most parents say they don’t have a favourite when their kids ask, but my dad was different. It was always clear to me that my younger sister was his favourite. No matter what I did, Sarah was the perfect one and I was the worthless one. Coke was the only thing that made his tiny voice in my head stop.” The group gives him sympathetic nods. They wait for him to continue, “I think that’s all I’m going to share for today. That’s all I need to get off of my chest right now.”

“Thank you for sharing,” Diana thanks. The meeting goes on and Rafe listens intently to the others’ stories. Listening to their journeys, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the signs of his own addiction before. The clacking of chairs folding finds his ears as he helps clean up. He doesn’t hear Diana’s footsteps as she approaches him, “So what made you decide to get sober if you don’t mind me asking?” He looks at her and finishes putting the chair he is holding away. “No, I don’t mind. Um… I recently found out that I have a daughter. I didn’t react so great when I found out that she was kept a secret from me, so I realized I needed to get better for her.” 

“It’s good that you realized you needed help. What’s your little girl’s name?”

“I actually don’t know. I was too high to ask. Another reason why I need to get sober is so I can get to know her.” 

“I see. Well, if you need a sponsor, I would be more than happy to help. I’ve been sober for three years. I know how difficult it can be to try to change.”

“That would be great. I’ve been sober for a day and I’m already struggling with it a little bit.” 

They exchange numbers before Rafe goes on his way to his next meeting of the day. 

——

Anger management right after a narcotics anonymous meeting may not have been the best idea on Rafe’s part. He really did want to get better, but with therapy, he has been doing a lot of talking about his feelings and it is exhausting to him. “And what do you think your anger triggers are, Rafe?” Corey asks, leaning forward in his chair. Rafe feels irritation fill him, “If I knew, then why would I be in anger management?” The look Corey gives him makes Rafe feel like he is receiving a warning from a parent. 

He cowers a little under the look. “Okay, I’m sorry for being snippy. But I’m hoping that I can figure this out. I want to figure out what makes me angry and how I can express that anger in a healthy manner,” he reasons. Corey agrees with his statement, “That’s exactly why I am here to help. Why don’t we talk about times you were angry?”

“The last time I was angry was when I found out that someone I slept with five years ago had my baby and didn’t tell me for five years.” 

“Right and were you more angry about the lie or the fact that you had a kid?”

“I am more upset by the lying. I told myself that I would be a better parent to my child and she didn’t give me a chance to do that.”

Rafe feels nervous with Corey’s eyes on him; today is the most he has been vulnerable since the night he met Y/N. “That is very angering. Now, how do you think you could’ve managed your anger?” Corey pushes, moving one leg over the other. Rafe takes a second to think, “I should not have gotten high that day. Instead, I should’ve opened communications with her. She tried to talk to me before I ran off, but I didn’t give her a chance.” “That’s right, Rafe. This is a very good start for your first session,” Corey applauds. 

——

The blast of music can be heard from outside the front door. Rafe has to laugh at the off-key and incorrect lyrics that are sung about five seconds too late. His daughter might look like his twin, but she seems to have inherited her mother’s musical abilities. He pauses as his fist lifts to knock on the door. The two girls in the house have their own lives. They already know how they fit into each other’s lives and he could off-balance their equilibrium by worming himself into it. He can’t mess up being a father if he isn’t in her life. But then he also couldn’t be a great father if he just left without trying to make things right with Y/N. 

He shakes off his anxiety and knocks on the door. The singing stops and the music dims. He can hear her footsteps approaching the door. Vanilla. It seems to haunt him whenever he is around her. He is glad fear doesn’t flash through her eyes when she sees him. He wouldn’t be able to handle knowing he caused her to feel that way. 

Her hair falls over her shoulder as she looks over at their daughter behind her. “Stella. Why don’t you go play in your room, Baby?” Y/N suggests, blocking Rafe from the little girl’s sight. Stella shoots up from the couch, “Okay, Mommy.” Her little running legs slowly down at the calling out from her mother to walk. With Stella out of earshot, Y/N finally gives him her full attention. “So her name is Stella. It means star, doesn’t it?” he thinks out loud. She slowly nods her head, “Yeah, I thought of it when I was stargazing while I was pregnant. Plus, my grandmother’s name was Luna so I thought it was a good homage to her. Rafe, I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to see you again unless you were suing me.” His hand moves his watch face back and forward on his wrist. He doesn’t want to look her in the eyes. 

“It’s a beautiful name. And you did make it clear. I want to apologize first. I shouldn’t have shown up to your house high. I probably scared you and Stella, which I never meant to do. 

“Apologizing won’t fix the fact that you came over high while my daughter was in the room.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But seeing our little girl, Y/N. I never thought that I could feel so much love for a person I didn’t know before. It made me realize that I need to change. So I started going to NA, anger management and therapy. I want to be mentally healthy. For Stella.” 

He can see the way she is processing his words and it gives him hope that he has a chance. “Rafe, I’m glad you are trying to get better. I really am, but I don’t know if I can trust you. You haven’t shown me that you are responsible enough to be Stella’s father,” Y/N explains and she doesn’t want to admit that the sad look on his face causes her some pain. He finally has the courage to look at her, “I understand. I wouldn’t trust me either. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance to show you that I am serious about being there for her. I’m hoping that if I stay sober for a month, you might consider letting me meet Stella as her father.” The silence that comes from Y/N absolutely kills Rafe and he feels like time is dragging on. “Okay. Stay sober for a month and Stella can meet you. But I want to meet you every week to get to know you more to make sure you are someone who can be around her,” she offers.

Rafe’s smile fixes the pain she felt before. He throws his arms around her to give her a hug, “Thank you so much, Buttercup! Can you do dinner tomorrow night?” That nickname. God, she didn’t think she could feel this many butterflies in her stomach at a simple name. She remembers why they are having this conversation and removes herself from his arms. “Dinner feels too romantic. How about lunch?” she counters. He gives her a thumbs up as he walks backwards toward his truck, “I can do lunch, great. I’ll pick you up at twelve. See you tomorrow.” 

He gets in his car and starts it. As he does so, he feels a pang shoot through his heart. She didn’t like the idea of going on a date with him, which tomorrow wasn’t going to be. He doesn’t know why he feels that way about it. He shakes off the feeling and focuses on the road.

——

Given that they are here because of Rafe, he offered to pay for lunch. They had decided on a small cafe near her house. “Were you able to find a babysitter? I can pay them for you if you need,” he states, playing with the food on his plate. She shakes her head at his offer, “My brother is watching her, so you don’t need to pay anybody. I certainly don’t need you paying for anything else either. I’ve been able to provide for her just fine so far.” “Right, right. I’m not saying that you can’t take care of her. I just want to make up for not being there for the first few years of her life,” he clears up. She takes a bite out of her sandwich, “You don’t need to make up for not being there. I knew where to find you and it was my choice not to tell you.” 

“Right…So you have a brother?” 

“I do. I have two actually. An older one and a younger one. How about you? You have a sister, if I remember correctly.”

His heart flutters at the fact that she remembers him talking about Sarah. He looks up to see that her attention is fully on him, “Yeah. I have two younger ones. Sarah and Wheezie.” “Wheezie. That’s an interesting name,” Y/N tries to pretend it isn’t strange. Rafe chuckles at the look on her face, “It’s a nickname, Buttercup. Don’t worry.” “Of course, I’m glad your parents had enough reason not to make that her legal name,” she jokes. Her beautiful smile that Rafe loves has returned, “Me too.” “How are you feeling about being sober so far? Any withdrawal symptoms?” she worries. He feels a twitch in his hand at the mention of his sobriety, “I’m not going to lie. It’s hard. I’m always tired, I’m more hungry than normal and I feel an unpleasant itch throughout my whole body. Not to mention the need for the drug is driving me crazy. But then I think about Stella and remember what I am doing this for.” 

The corner of her lips turns upwards at the thought of Stella helping Rafe stay strong. He must truly feel a love for Stella if she is helping anchor him during these trying times. “That’s good,” she says. “Button, I know I said I didn’t want to see you again, but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone, you can come to me. I know that addictions can be hard to overcome and I can see you really are trying. I want to help so Stella can meet her father.” The genuine care in her voice brings tears to his eyes. He barely knows her, yet she has shown more belief in Rafe’s abilities than Ward has in the twenty-six years that Rafe has been his son. Plus, using the nickname she gave him all those years ago must be a good sign that they are on the right track. “Thank you, Buttercup. It really means a lot to me that I have your support.” 

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