#i want my brain to SHUT UP for a bit and let me rest
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Noisy little mess
Hi sweetie ⁓
Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).
I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.
Have a good chocolaty day ⁓
DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).
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Fourth part here:
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«Why the hell you've let her-»
«MacTavish»
Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.
«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»
«Then explain yourself, Cap.»
«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»
«She's no insubordinate»
«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»
«How come?»
«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»
«Laswell?? Ye serious?»
Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.
«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»
«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»
«The mission had to be done anyway»
«We could have waited for a better plan»
He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.
«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»
«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»
«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»
Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.
One in particular.
You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.
You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.
«…I've thought…i could be helpful»
«You're a brave kid, but that was-»
«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known»
You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»
«Then why?»
«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»
«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»
You nod.
«Then why a girl?»
You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.
Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.
A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.
Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.
Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.
«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.
And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are.
He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:
«W-who required me?»
«I do»
Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible- neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.
Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»
«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.
Your eyes lower again.
«…causing trouble-»
«Just that?»
You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.
«Take off your shirt»
Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself.
«…sir?»
Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.
«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.
Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket.
Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.
«'K. If that's so…»
The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.
You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style.
He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.
«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.
You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.
«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»
«Humans» he talks over immediately.
You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women»
«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»
«There was no other way to-»
«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
«Are you proud?»
The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.
Then you nodd.
«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.
«Yes, I am»
You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.
It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.
«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»
«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»
«I've already told ya: you don't know me»
«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»
«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»
«I know me»
«It seems not»
Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»
«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.
«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»
«It was just a nerve»
«Judicially irrelevant»
«Shut your bloody mouth»
«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»
«Yes»
You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm.
«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»
Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:
«I've just done my duty-»
«You threw away your life»
«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»
And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»
«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»
He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.
As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»
You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.
«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»
You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.
«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.
His conclusion wastes no time to come:
«You're a submissive»
It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.
«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»
You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.
And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand.
The disappointment is palpable.
«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»
That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.
But you don't want him to be right.
«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.
His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»
«Mission was completed»
«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»
«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»
It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.
He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.
«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty»
The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…
You bite him.
You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.
On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.
On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.
You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.
Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.
The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.
Price gets in without invitation.
«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»
Ghost doesn't lift his sight.
«I've talked with doc-»
«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»
Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»
«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»
«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»
«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»
«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»
«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»
«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»
Silence.
Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted:
«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»
Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:
«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»
Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»
«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»
«For fuck's sake Price-»
«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»
Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).
Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.
And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.
John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.
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#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod fanfic#fanfiction#writers on tumblr#ghost x reader#ghost x you#johnny soap mctavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#writing dialogues is so funny#Price is basically becoming more and more the pscyhologist of the team#Task Force 141 is a close team of gossiper#don't know if ou've already noticed but i don't know shit about miitary life#it will be something more spicy sooner or later#for now just hints about sub/dom relationship
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Y’all ever wish you could just take a vacation from thinking for a while?
#i’ve been having SO many complex complicated thoughts lately about big topics™️#like about unmasking my autism & trying to figure out what’s actually me/what I actually like/who I actually am#vs what was just part of the mask#and also (to my great surprise) been having complicated & confusing thoughts™️ about my gender & sexuality?#went 32 years barely thinking about it & then out of the blue this week I’m like uhhhh#also lots of thoughts about work/whether I should go back after my medical leave or just quit#& about how capitalism affects disability etc#and it’s just EXHAUSTING#i want my brain to SHUT UP for a bit and let me rest#i am TIRED#also I dont really have anyone I can talk to to work through all this#and journaling has always been challenging/overwhelming for me#sooooo I’m just stuck with all these big thoughts™️ rattling around in my brain with nowhere to go
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oughg sorry
#was able to cry a little for the first time in weeks and it worked for a bit but now im. feeling kinda wack again#wish my depression could let me do things to get feelings out but i had to be cursed w executive dysfunction#biting and killing and maiming#i dont want to be whiny about it but aughfhffnghd#when barely anything sparks joy it is hard everything feels hard#i am tired of waking up like this but i don't really. have a right to complain#everything just makes me retreat further into myself i am tired#i don't really know why but i am#i dont think i was able to get the past year out of my system properly and#i keep having dreams about my sister and i and i keep waking up disturbed or anxious or sick or angry or annoyed#weird ass state of burnout and every day i wake up and go through the exact same cycle of just#trying to keep myself calm until i inevitably shut down from something minor in the afternoon and the intrusive s/h thoughts drive me insane#then the rest of my day is ruined so like a solid 12 hours until i can. be stable-ish again#i cannot even do things to get my mind off of it other than brain numbing shit like lets plays on yt#[shrek voice] they cant even afford therapy#something wrong with me and i cannot rly figure out what or if im being overly sensitive n dramatic about everything#nothing is even Happening irl and things are completely normal and fine for the first time in months snd yet?#jesus christ . WHY.#o|-< oughg#tee.xt#vent /#personal /#sory for farty rocking ill probably delete later if i remember
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She blinked in her drunken haze at the bartender who nudged a glass of water towards her; her brows drew in confusion, and he said, “Look if you want to keep paying, I’ll keep serving, but you look like you need a ride home rather than more drinks. Drink some water and find a ride.”
Throwing a poor thumbs up, she watched as he walked off and she pulled out her phone, thumbing her password in so she could go to her contacts; his was one of the first and she managed to press call, laying the phone down on the bar, her head laying atop it. They picked up on the second ring.
What.
“Lt,” she slurred. “Will you come get me?”
You’re drunk, aren’t you?
It was rhetorical, she knew that, but she responded anyway. “Yeah, drank too much.” She closed her eyes. “Will you please come get me?” she smiled when she heard the annoyed sigh come across the line. “Pleeeeeeeeeeease,” she whined.
Pay your tab and I’ll be there in a few minutes.
“You’re not going to pay it for me?”
You’re pushing your luck much farther than how much you think I actually tolerate you.
“You tolerate me more than most.”
Whatever.
The line went dead, and she fished around in her pocket for a few bills, laying them on the counter as she lifted herself up and headed for the door. As she stepped out into the night, she drifted to an enclosed corner and sat down on one of the paved bricks that extended from the outside wall, shutting her eyes as she rested her head on the cold stone. She listened as people walked past her, taking in the laughter, the random bits of conversation, sometimes arguments, and breathed deeply as her brain rolled around in her skull.
It wasn’t until she felt the shift of the moonlight from her face to shadow that she cracked an eye open and gazed up at the masked man glaring back at her. “Hi, Lt,” she murmured, and he didn’t even blink.
“C’mon.”
He turned and started walking towards the parking lot when she whined and said, “You aren’t even going to help me up?”
His feet stopped on the pavement, shoulders lifting up and down before he spun around and walked back over, holding out his hand.
“Thank you,” she chirped and took it, letting him pull her up; she didn’t let go of his hand as they walked and at one point in her drunken stumbling, he stopped and let out a tired sigh, bending his knees to kneel beside her. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Get on,” he retorted, and she looked between his face and his back.
“You mean on your—”
“Get. On.” He growled and she hurriedly draped herself on his back, letting out a startled noise as he stood up suddenly, large hands clasped on the bottoms of her thighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
She blinked as she rested her head on his shoulder and murmured, “Wow, the air is so clear up here.” She heard it, the slight snort and she couldn’t help but smile as he carried her. “Lt?”
“What.”
“Thank you for coming to get me. I know I’m a pain in the ass.”
“At least you’re self-aware of how much a major pain in my arse you are. Bigger than Soap is on his worst days.”
“Now that’s just plain mean,” she mumbled, sniffling slightly. “I’m sorry.”
He stopped again and turned his head, looking at her. “I’d rather you be a pain in my arse than be nothing to me at all.”
She gazed at him with wide eyes, unable to stop her mouth from flopping open and he looked down then back to her eyes. “Really?” she asked in disbelief.
“You might be the biggest pain I’ve ever had the displeasure of having, but you’re my pain and I intend for it to stay that way.”
Her mouth shut and she melted against his back as he continued walking, gingerly snuggling closer to him, knees hugging his hips, arms tighter around him as she joked, “I love you too, Lt.”
“Nope, we’re not there yet.”
She paused, then wondered aloud, “You think we’ll ever be there one day?”
It was a long moment before he finally murmured back, “…yeah, maybe one day, pet.”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader imagines#simon ghost riley x reader imagine#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader imagines#simon riley x reader imagine#simon riley imagines#simon riley imagine#simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x reader imagines#ghost x reader imagine#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#cod imagine#cod imagines#cod#call of duty imagines#call of duty imagine#call of duty
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[1.7k] an early morning birthday treat for your boyfriend hours before the rest of the world needs either of you. (smut)
we are gonna ignore the fact i accidentally hit the post limit yesterday and pretend i actually posted this on his birthday
.
“Good morning, birthday boy.”
Oscar let out a small hum of acknowledgement, a small smile working its way onto his face but he didn’t bother opening his eyes. Instead, he wound his arm around your waist and tugged you down until you were collapsing down on his chest. He sighed happily, nuzzling himself further against you whilst you wiggled in his embrace.
“You’re ruining your birthday,” you commented, trying to nudge his arm away so you could sit back up. But Oscar didn’t budge a bit.
“It’s my birthday,” he grumbled, his voice still laced with sleep and his accent coating his slurred words a little thicker than normal. “I get to choose what we do and I choose sleeping.”
“That’s boring,” you retorted, twisting in his hold until you were facing him. You reached a hand out, pushing his hair back until you got an unrestricted view of his face squished against the pillow.
“I happen to like boring birthdays.”
You snorted, smiling fondly as you leaned down to press a kiss on the tip of his slightly scrunched nose. “You’re not even going to ask what I planned?”
“If it includes leaving this bed before I have to head to the track, then I’m not interested,” Oscar mumbled, letting out a sigh as your nails began to scratch along his scalp. “I’m quite happy here. Very content. Very happy birthday boy.”
“And if I said your birthday plans start in bed?”
Oscar paused for a moment. “I’m listening.”
You grinned, lightly poking his cheek until his eyes slowly fluttered open. “Hey.”
He flashed you a lazy smile. “Hi, baby.”
“Happy birthday,” you murmured before you leaned down, pressing a soft but lingering kiss on his lips.
“Definitely happy,” he hummed in response, huffing a little when you pushed his shoulder so he was lying on his back. “You’re awfully bossy this morning.”
“You like it,” you teased, throwing one leg over his body until you were settled on his lap. In seconds, his hands were on your waist like the reaction was instinctive.
“Maybe,” he replied, though the light pink painting his cheeks gave him away. His thumbs lightly swiped along your hip bones, slowly pushing the material of your (his) shirt up until he was met with bare skin. “I have to be at the track by ten.”
“It’s only seven,” you retorted.
“That means we could have had a solid two more hours of sleep,” he pointed out, his eyes still a bit bleary from sleep. He was just grateful enough that one of you remembered to pull the curtains shut last night. “You know, cuddling is good for dopamine and stuff.”
Your lips twitched. “Dopamine and stuff?”
“You woke me up five minutes ago, give me a break,” Oscar grumbled, squeezing your hips to emphasise his point.
“I know something else that would be good for your dopamine and stuff,” you said, grinning a little as you leaned down to peck his lips. “Something for the birthday boy.”
“You keep saying that but—oh shit.”
You watched his eyes flutter shut, his grip on you tightening as you rolled your hips against his. You ducked your head down, lips pressing chaste, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck as you felt his skin flush under your touch. You felt his thumping pulse pounding, could feel the way his body was reacting to you.
It was fucking intoxicating.
“Do you still wanna go back to sleep?” You questioned, your voice teasing and a little patronising as you nipped the skin just below his ear.
“Nuh uh,” he breathed out, shaking his head in response. “This is good. This is better.”
You grinned against his skin.
And maybe it was still-half-asleep brain or maybe Oscar just didn’t want to assume, but he wasn’t really expecting more. It was still painfully early for either of you to be awake right now, especially considering how late you had managed to get to the hotel. And he was honestly more than happy to have this, to have his girl on top of him. To have your hands and your lips and your pretty words. To just have you.
He wasn’t thinking about where it was leading, he was just stuck in the present moment of you, you, you.
His brain hadn’t even fully caught up until your kisses started moving lower, until a few chaste kisses along his collarbone started to move further down his chest.
“Babe,” he rasped, his head still a little fuzzy with sleep as your breath fanned over the muscles of his stomach.
“Shhh, relax f’me, Osc,” you murmured between soft kisses, fingers tugging the edge of his boxers down as the urge to mark along his v-line overwhelmed you.
“I—” But the words were lost in the back of his throat as the heel of your palm pressed against the bulge in his boxers, your lips mouthing at the sensitive skin along his hips.
His eyes fell shut, his head digging back into the pillow as he let himself enjoy every single inch of his body that was being touched by you. The way his hips bucked against your hand, the front of the fabric already wet and stained with precome as you marked pretty bruises on his pale skin. The way your body settled between his thick thighs, nails grazing along his skin until he was squirming and whining underneath you. The way every cell in his body was just so, so responsive to you.
A guttural moan escaped the back of his throat as you mouthed along his clothed cock, licking a thick strip over the fabric of his boxers as he helplessly buckled beneath your touch. He didn’t think a single thought in his head was about anything but you. He didn’t think he wanted to think about anything else but you.
Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs and throwing them somewhere off the edge of the bed, neither one of you all too bothered where it landed. Instead, you took his hard cock in your hand, not wasting a second before you sucked the tip in your mouth, lapping at the small beads of precome that were already leaking.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he breathed out, his hips bucking further into your mouth but your other hand kept his body planted on the mattress.
He was fucking helpess.
He was fucking helpess and he didn’t give two shits about anything other than you.
There was a vague voice in the back of his head reminding him that it was early, that they had neighbours, that those neighbours were colleagues of his. But it was a passing thought at best for Oscar as he squirmed and wiggled and writhed beneath your touch. It was a problem for future Oscar to deal with.
And it wasn’t often Oscar was vocal, not like this. But he was sleepy and caught off-guard and, fuck, your mouth just felt like heaven wrapped around his cock. He couldn’t help himself with the whimpers and moans he let out, your name like a mantra as it left his lips on a broken loop.
Because Oscar Piastri was a weak man when it came to you.
And when he lifted his head off the pillow to finally look down at you, he about lost whatever semblance of control he had left.
Your hands were placed on his thighs, your nails digging into his skin but the pain was biting and welcomed. Your cheeks were hallowed around his dick, a mix of come and drool leaking from the edges but it just made his stomach twist with a deep desire that he knew would haunt his fantasies for months to come. Your lips were red and swollen, your eyes were glossy and hooded and, fucking hell, the second he met your gaze, it was over for him.
His hands were gripping the sheets of the duvet beneath him as he came, the pleasure white and hot and overwhelming in every sense of the word. He felt it all over like a hot flush, dancing along his nerve endings and racing down his spine as his body bucked upwards to be closer to you, your mouth, your everything. He was distantly aware of the little whiny noises he made as he came, the ones that were half muffled as he buried his face into his pillow as his orgasm washed over him whilst you lapped at his sensitive cock.
He couldn’t really find it in himself to be embarrassed when he finally turned back to look at you, seeing you slowly lick your fingers clean from the cum that had leaked out your mouth with a huge grin on your face.
“You’re a menace,” was all he managed to breathe out, throwing his arm over his face to try and recover from mind blowing orgasm and the sight of you shamelessly tasting him.
“Happy birthday,” you replied cheerfully, crawling back up the bed until you could press a chaste kiss on his cheek before nuzzling yourself against him. “Good start to twenty-three?”
He huffed out a laugh. “I think you might’ve killed me.”
“At least you died young, pretty and satisfied,” you joked, feeling his chest rumble beneath you and it made your stomach twist with something quite like delight.
“And in love,” he added, his words a little slurred and his cheeks burning a little at his own cheesiness. But it still made you grin.
“I love you too, Osc,” you murmured back.
“I was talking about those sushi rolls we had last night, but yeah I love you too,” he murmured, letting out a short pained noise when you pinched his side. “Ow! What happened to birthday boy privileges?”
“Those ended with the blowjob,” you retorted. “You’re back to normal Oscar now.”
“Hm, that seems a little unfair,” Oscar commented as he wound his arms around your body, hugging you close to his chest like the two of you could melt into one person.
“Tragic life of being twenty-three,” you teased.
Oscar smiled. “Thank you, seriously.”
You laughed, lifting your head to look at him. “Did you just thank me for a blowjob?”
The sleepy smile returned. “Yeah, pretty sure I just did.”
“Never beating the polite cat allegations,” you said, lighthearted and sweet and joking as you leaned down to kiss him. “Never change, birthday boy.”
“Never in a million years, baby.”
.
#oscar piastri#formula one#f1#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri smut#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#formula one smut#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot#f1 smut
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i need more sub ellie omg that was so good
welcomed
PALESTINE LINKS | before engaging !!! | click before you fic ♡ | m. list | join my tag list!
♡ a/n; this is an old req but !!! finally getting around to it so let’s hope this suffices. been having breeding kink brain rot the last few days so this was more than necessary <3
♡ pairing; sub!ellie williams x dom!fem!reader
♡ warnings; ellie calls reader mommy/mama/ma'am, use of a dildo, choking (r!receiving), sweet degrading (pretty slut, sweet whore), praise, nicknames for ellie (hun, baby, sweet girl, pretty girl), titty sucking, huge breeding kink, reader refers to dildo as her cock/dick, dildo is referred to as reader's cock/dick, etc
♡ synopsis; you had been out on patrol, all fucking day. so, when you're finally back home, finally back in ellie's arms, she's not afraid to show you just how much she missed you.
♡ wc; 1.6k
she said “fuck me like i’m famous,” i said, OKAY.
FOR VISUAL PURPOSES.
ellie had all but jumped into your arms as soon as you had gotten back from patrol, face buried into your neck, hands around your body. she was needy, your poor baby, pent up all day from you being gone.
and you couldn't just leave her like that, could you?
you were kneeling in the midst of ellie's legs, spread wide open for you, her pretty pussy soaked as you pumped your black dildo in and out of it. ellie's head was cocked backwards, auburn hair messy over the pillow as small whines escaped her lips.
"m- mommy, fuck," she cussed as her body squirmed, her hands rested on your hips as her face went pink. "please, can you, fuck, need you to, mmm," she spluttered. she couldn't properly get her words out, not when you were fucking her like this.
but you wouldn't let her off that easy.
"what, baby? c'mon, use your words for me," you rasped, beginning to rub your thumb over ellie's swollen clit as you forced your dildo in and out of her cunt. ellie let out a small groan of annoyance as she bit into her bottom lip.
“f- faster, mommy. c’you move faster?” ellie whined, pale green eyes wide and dilated as ellie looked into you. and if moves could speak? she'd be fucking begging.
you take it upon yourself to force your cock deeper into ellie's cunt, causing a mewl of your name to escape her lips, her body jerking. you can't help the smirk that crosses your face when it happens, and, of course, it only encourages you to give her all that she's asking for.
“mhm. whatever my pretty slut needs,” you hum, pumping your black dildo in and out of ellie's pussy as fast as your hand will allow you to.
ellie's response is quick as her head falls back into the pillow behind her, because just like that, you've got your girl right where you want her. “f- fuck! feels so, fuck, good. don’t stop, mama.”
“not gonna, hun. nah uh. gonna keep fucking this cunt ‘til my baby’s making a mess all over my cock, yeah?” you rasp, and now, you move closer. you move so you’re hovering above ellie on your knees, while managing to make your access to her cunt even better than it'd been before.
“mmph, y- yes, mommy,” she whined brokenly, clearly liking the view of you on your knees. maybe a bit too much, but not that you minded at all.
ellie only grew more desperate, more needy, as time went on. you'd be concerned she was being a bit too loud, to the point where people outside of your shared home could hear you. if you gave a fuck.
“god, shit,” ellie moaned as she reached her hand out to grasp your neck, veiny hands closing around it in a somewhat rough grip. you let out a groan of your own once the pressure seeps into your skin, your eyes shutting in pleasure in no more than a second.
“oh, would you look at that. is mommy fucking her girl dumb? god, such a sweet fucking whore," you praise your good girl, even if the rasp in your tone makes you sound pretty whorish yourself. "all cockdrunk for me when i’m only using my hand. must really like mama’s dick, hm?” you tease.
ellie nods eagerly in response, like you'll suddenly fade away if she doesn't. she forces herself to look into your eyes just to drive you crazy, and she does. "mmm, y- yeah, w- want you to, fuck, put a baby into me, mommy. canfeelyousodeep.”
well, that was new. and ridiculously welcomed.
you and ellie had had talks every once in a while, about what it would be like to have a baby, if you could. who would get who pregnant, who could handle it better. silly discussions of the sort that were usually just that: silly. but now? fuck. you hadn't known it would go to your girl's head like this. you hadn't known how much it would go to yours.
and what kind of person would you be to not oblige?
“is that right, hun? need me to fuck a baby into that pretty little pussy of yours?” you voice, and the words come out easily, as if you've said them to ellie over and over again in the past. ellie's brain seems to click right there, because she enables a moan so pornographic from her lips, it's criminal. illegal.
ellie doesn't have enough time to find herself embarrassed by what she's just said. she's too damn needy, too wet, too far gone, to really say much at all. barely, she manages to mutter a few words in response. “mmm, yes, please. s’all i want. you’re all i want," she says, and it's obvious her words are genuine. she needs you. no one else. just you.
“such a good girl. god, so fucking tight. pretty hole’s just begging for me to fill it, huh?" you groan, her words making you ravenous, and her whines making you crazy. you move in closer to ellie, your lips a mere few inches away from hers, before going on. "wanna be filled in mommy’s cum so bad, don’t you, yeah? my pretty slut needs me to fill her up?"
ellie's speechless, pausing, just to whimper as loud as she can, her eyes rolling back into her head as she begins to feel your index rubbing her swollen clit. you give her her time, fucking her into submission as you wait for her to become coherent once more. and when she does? 
you know she's a wreck for you.
“y- yes, ma’am. so bad. please, i’ll be so good for you. s’good, just, just—please," she splutters out finally, voice broken, whiny, and goddamn desperate, and all you could think about was how pretty she was. too pretty for her own good. and just to cap it?
she was all yours.
“i know you will. such a pretty little slut for me, hm? needy girl. gonna make you a mama, yeah? just like you want,” you rasp.
but you’re nowhere near done.
“god, my sweet whore can’t get enough of me, huh? let me use this pretty pussy all day if i wanted to. how long have you been craving me, baby?”
ellie’s way too quick to answer. “all day, mama. patrol’s too long, fuck. could barely manage," ellie easily obliges your ask, and you can't help but chuckle, nor can you help what you do following.
but ellie doesn't seem to mind.
you bend down from your knees and use your lips to latch onto one of ellie's pretty nipples, which is rock hard for you. you've got her moaning easily as you swirl masterfully around her breast, all while your attack on her pussy never ceases. “poor girl. probably getting yourself wet, pretty legs all pressed up, body begging for some release," you say, words coherent, as your lips remain on ellie's nipple. "well, don’t worry, hun. mommy’s here to take care of you. right?”
ellie nodded eagerly, her hand remaining on your neck, but now being on the back of it. words failing her badly, she can only manage a broken, little, “r- right.”
maybe if you were feeling mean, you'd make your girl say a little bit more than that. but right now, from the way ellie was looking up at you, to how fucking soaked she was? you decided to be a bit more generous than usual.
your movements on, in ellie's pussy, and your lips on her nipple, make it impossible for her to hold on for much longer, as you knew it would. actually, it'd been your goal from the jump. her grip on your neck grows rougher, and you know you've got her now. “fuck, mommy, so close, s’close. can feel you in me, fuck," ellie whines.
“i know you can, hun. gonna fill my pretty girl up, yeah? make a fucking mama out of you like you want," you groan as you feel her fingers close around your neck's back, cutting off more of your oxygen, and sending a rush of butterflies down to your own cunt. "just keep being good for me. give you as many babies as you want.”
“mmph, as many as i want, mommy?” ellie whimpers. oh, does she like that idea.
you smirk, adoring the way ellie's words flow so prettily from her lips. adoring the way only you can make her feel like this; how the gorgeous brunette below you was yours and yours alone. “mhm. whatever my baby needs? she can have.”
and, finally. . .
“f- fuck, m- mommy, gonna cum. please, can i cum?”
you quicken your pace, moving your hand as fast as you possibly can as you force your dick in and out of ellie's cunt at a goddamn sinner's pace. it's only then that you decide to allow ellie's body to have all it's been begging for. “mmm, ‘course you can, sweet girl," you rasp, easily. "c’mon. make a mess for me.”
she doesn't need much more than that.
you have ellie finishing in seconds once you give her permission to, and the brunette girl is gorgeous as she buries her face into the pillow, voice a whiny wreck, your name falling from her lips. her back arches up into your hand as you talk her through her orgasm, your own face growing warm as you watch her fall apart for you.
“oh, fuck, thankyou, thankyousomuch," ellie hurriedly moaned out as her rear side came back down to the bed. her green eyes bored into yours as she panted, pale cheeks hot in a rosy blush. "you’re so fucking good. fuck.”
“y’think so, baby?” you smile at her, slowly but surely removing your cock from her cunt once you were sure she was fully pleased. ellie returned your expression, but it wasn't in the form of a smile, or a grin. she was smirking.
you knew full well what that was about.
“i know so. now, can i make you feel good, too?”
reblogs are very much welcomed (get it?) <3
divider creds !
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou#tlou ellie#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fanfic#tlou smut#tlou2 smut#the last of us smut#the last of us#tlou#ellie smut#ellie fanfic#ellie the last of us
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Fakin' it | Arthur Morgan/Reader
Word Count : 3k
Summary : After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track?
Warnings/Tags : Enemies to lovers <3, unprotected piv sex, guns, cursing, reader has female gentailia, fingering, one bed, fake marriage
Of course the job that went bad had to be with Arthur. Why Dutch had put you two together was beyond you. Everyone around the gang knew that it was volatile anytime you two were together. But, you were cunning, quick minded in a pinch. Arthur was strong, easily able to take down a man twice his size, not that someone of that caliber came along often. To put it simply, you were the brains, he was the brawn. As much as you hated to admit, you made a good team on jobs. This time however, a simple robbery had turned into dozens of O’driscolls around every corner. You two had barely made it into a hotel unscathed.
“One room.” Arthur said, setting down some coins on the table top as you watched the door. Your hand resting against your gun in your dress pocket.
“Name?” The man asked with a smile.
“Callahan.” Arthur said looking back at you. “Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” He said, turning back to the clerk. You heard footsteps outside of the hotel, you turned quickly grabbing Arthur’s arm.
“Sweetheart.” You cooed, internally cringing as you called him by that name. You looked at him with wide eyes, “Come on.” You said with a nervous smile.
“We’re newlyweds, a bit excited if you can’t tell.” He chuckled, turning back to the clerk, his arm wrapping around your waist.
“Of course.” The clerk said with a knowing smile, you wanted to barf as Arthur squeezed your waist. “Up the stairs to the left.” He said, handing Arthur a key.
“Much appreciated.” Arthur said his hand on the small of your back as you two climbed the stairs. As soon as you turned the corner you nearly ran to the door, Arthur slid the key in the lock and turned it, ushering you inside. As soon as the door was closed behind you, he was locking it just as fast.
Once you got in the room you moved away from Arthur’s side, letting out a sigh as you looked around the room. One bed, of course, you two were acting as a couple.
“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to look at Arthur.
“Less eyes on us if we’re a couple, not cause I wanna play house with you.” He said with a grunt, barely raising his head to look at you. He walked over to the bed, moving to take his boots off.
“Less eyes.” You scoffed, looking around the room, walking over to the window. You pulled the blinds back, peeking out to the streets below.
“The hell you think you're doing?” Arthur hissed, his hand wrapping around your wrist.
“Looking.” You said glaring up at him. “Is that a crime?”
“Do you want to give away our position?” He growled, his eyes dark.
“I think it’s pretty damn clear we’re in one of these shops, now we have to wait it out until they’re gone.” You said pulling away your arm from his grasp. He let out a deep breath, his jaw clenched as he looked away from you.
“How many are out there?” He asked, holding his hat as he ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know, maybe a dozen?” You said crossing your arms.
“Dutch said to keep a low profile,” He muttered to himself, “We can’t go out there guns blazing.” He said, setting his hat down on the bedside table.
“That’s obvious.” You said, shaking your head. He scoffed, looking up at you.
“Are you trying to piss me off, or is that just one of your special talents?” Arthur said glaring at you.
“Oh I have lots of talents.” You say, stepping closer a scowl on your face.
“If only one of them was keeping your mouth shut.” He growled.
“God, what is your problem?” You huff looking away from him.
“My problem?” He scoffs getting up from the bed. “You’re my problem." He said, his chest almost touching yours as you looked up at him.
“Feelings mutual.” You huff, glaring up at him. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as you walked away from him.
“We’re gonna have to wait it out.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The hell are we gonna do?” You asked throwing your hands up.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna take advantage of this bed.” He said laying back down on the bed, placing his hat over his face. You bit your cheek looking at him as he crossed his legs. He did have a point, the bed looked a whole lot softer than your cot back at camp. You mulled it over for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You unlaced your boots, laying back on the bed. Your eyes quickly drew heavy, the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off.
The sun was setting when you woke up, the light slowly disappearing behind the horizon. The room was quiet except for Arthur’s breathing. You sat up in bed, looking over at him. His hat had fallen off his face when he rolled over sometime during his sleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept, it was like seeing a completely different side of him. It’s at this moment you really appreciate how beautiful Arthur truly is. The bridge of his nose is high, broken one too many times. His plump lips parted slightly, like two petals. His sandy brown hair falling over his forehead.
You wanted to reach out and move it out of his face, but thought better of it. You didn’t want to disturb him and it wasn’t often that you saw him without a furrowed brow.
Just as you were laying back down you heard heavy footsteps up the stairs. By your guess, four, maybe five men. You sit up quietly, feeling your heart pound against your rib cage. Arthur sprang up in bed as soon as they kicked open the first door. They must have turned right when they went up the stairs. The yell of shock sounded farther down the hall. He turned to you, his eyes wide. He reached for his gun belt on the floor but you stopped him. Your brain was running through all the situations. Four or five men, sure you and Arthur could take them, but that’s not exactly a low profile.
Against your better judgment you picked the solution with the least amount of bloodshed. You swung your leg over Arthur’s waist.
“The hell are you doing-“ Arthur hissed before you covered his mouth with your hand. Your fingers started working on the buttons of your blouse as you rolled your hips forward. Arthur looked up at you with a wide eyed expression, his bright eyes frantically moving between his gun belt on the floor and the door. His stubble lightly scratched your palm as you held your hand over his mouth, his plump lips almost kissing your palm.
You forced a high pitched moan as you moved your hips faster on the bed, the bedframe hitting the wall. Creating the illusion you two were having sex.
The gears slowly started to turn in Arthur’s mind, his hands gripping your hips as he propelled you faster. The bedframe was now rocking against the wall, as you pulled your arms out of your blouse, leaving your chest bare. Your nipples hardened from the cold air as goosebumps sprung up on your skin. Arthur’s eyes were closed as he turned his head, forcing a low groan. Although you knew his groans were fake, the way his body reacted to your touch was more than real. You kept up with your moans, trying to put on a good enough show.
The door was soon forced open, as two O’Driscolls entered the room with their guns raised. You scream, Arthur is quick to pull your chest down to his. You were pressed tight against him, his warm hands keeping you flush against him, all of him. His work shirt rubs against your nipples in such a fucking delicious way, it doesn’t help tbe adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can’t see anything, your head buried into Arthur’s neck, his stubble now rubbing against your cheek.
“Get the hell out of here!” Arthur yells, hidden by your upper half.
One of them clears their throat before exiting the room, closing the door behind them. You hold your breath waiting for their footsteps to retreat down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief as they meet back up with the other men, walking down the stairs.
Hesitantly Arthur moves his hands off your back, you sit up covering your breasts with your arms. Arthur, however, was staring up towards the ceiling. His jaw clenched as he avoided looking at you.
You moved off of his waist, grabbing your blouse before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You buttoned it up, swallowing thickly as Arthur cleared his throat.
“Now uh-“ Arthur said letting out a sigh, “I want you to know that I didn’t see nothin’.” The bed whines slightly as he stands up.
“I know you felt something.” You said, shaking your head as you blush from head to toe.
“Now-“ Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair as you turned to face him, his eyes flicking around the room before settling at your feet as he held up his hand. “We can just pretend this never happened, it was a matter of life and death.”
“I understand that.” You looked at him, fully looked at him. His gaze was low, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cheeks flushed. God, he looks wrecked.
Your eyes trailed over his body as he stood there, his hand on his hip as he popped his knee out. Your eyes moved down further, almost popping out of your head as you see how painfully hard he is pressed against his pants.
“Are you-“ The words fall out of your mouth before you can think to stop them.
“Jesus.” Arthur sighed looking down, his hand rubbing his eyebrows.
“You are.” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth as your eyes trailed up and down his body. You felt heat begin to spread between your thighs as he met your eyes. Your heart is still pounding against your rib cage from the encounter with the O’Driscolls.
“I’m-“ He started throwing his hands up, “I’m sorry, alright but you can’t expect me- I’m only a man.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“Nothing to be ashamed-“ He cut you off, shaking his head, “There is plenty to be ashamed of, I shouldn’t be getting so… so worked up over you.” He said motioning to you. You couldn’t help that you were also getting worked up, you subtly rubbed your thighs together. Trying to get any friction where you needed it most. Heat bloomed in your stomach as the tension in the room only got worse. He furrowed his brows, studying you.
“Wait,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “You feel it too.” He said, crossing his arms.
You scoffed, looking off to the side. “You wish.” You said, hating the slight tremor in your voice. Arthur strode across the room, stopping in front of you. He reached towards you, tilting your chin so you would have to look at him.
“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said softly, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you flush against him. You stayed silent, looking up into his blue eyes. Slowly a smirk worked its way onto his face, “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled, cupping your cheek. He leaned forward brushing his nose against yours. Giving you the option to pull away if you wanted, his eyes softening as he looked into yours. You took the plunge, capturing his lips against your own as you threaded your fingers through his hair.
A groan rumbled through his chest as his hand tightened around your waist. You felt dizzy as his lips moved against yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth allowing his access as he pressed into you deeper. He rubbed himself against you, his hips pressed against your lower belly.
You pulled away, breathing hard as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his mouth parted slightly as his chest rose and fell rapidly. You unbuttoned your blouse for the second time, just as feverishly as the first time, but now for a completely different reason. Arthur followed your lead, pushing his own suspenders down, his skillful fingers unbuttoning his own shirt. His eyes returned to your body as he ripped his shirt off of his shoulders, settling onto your breasts. He stared down at you, an almost predatory expression on his face. He closed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your waist as the other kneaded your breast. You let out a soft gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as he ran his thumb over your perk nipple.
“Arthur.” He stared down at you, his eyes darkening as he watched you shiver against him. He flipped you around, his hand pressing you down onto the bed. His other hand flipped your skirts up, before pulling down your underclothes. He let out a soft groan as his eyes connected with your almost dripping pussy.
“This all for me?” He cooed, swiping his finger through your folds. You gasped, nodding as your hands gripped the quilt.
“Yes.” You breathed, “Yes all for you.”
“Good girl.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he sunk a finger into your heat. You gasped as he slowly started pumping his finger inside of you. He leaned over you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Yeah you like that don’t you?” He said nibbling on your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as he added another finger, scissoring them inside your walls.
“Fuck Arthur.” You melwed, pressing your forehead against the slightly scratchy quilt underneath you. “I need you.” You huffed, your walls clenching around his fingers.
“I’m gettin’ there.” He chuckled, pulling his finger out of you, you sighed at the loss. You could hear the rustling of clothing behind you, the distinctive metal on metal as you pulled off his belt. His warm calloused hands ran up your backside, gently spreading you before the head of his cock met your entrance.
Jesus Christ he was big.
He spit into his palm, pulling away as he spread his spit over the head of his cock.
“What the hell is taking so long?” You asked impatiently, turning your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, a wicked grin on his face as he forcefully shoved his cock through your folds. It was like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you were propelled forward onto the bed. His hands pulled your hips back and speared you onto his dick.
“Arthur!” You yelped, your fingers gripping the quilt as he thrust his pelvis flush to yours.
“Christ woman.” He groaned, laying his forehead against your bare back. You moan as he pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you. “You sound even better when you ain’t faking it.” You can feel the chuckle rumble through his chest more than you can hear it as he speaks.
“Arthur, Jesus." You pant, almost drooling over the way his cock hits that spot inside you over and over again.
“Mmm.” He moans, tight lipped as he tilts his head back. You push back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts “Yeah, atta girl.” His praise only spurred you on, your thighs shaking as you pushed your ass against his pelvis. “You close?” He whispered, his warm hand moving down your thigh between your legs. His thumb circling your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You were grateful your upper half was supported by the plush bed as your legs gave out under you. A high pitched moan worked its way out of your chest as you all but collapsed on the bed. Your walls fluttered around him, milking his cock.
“Shit.” He panted his breath fanning on your back as his forearms caged you in, his hips stuttering as he released his seed inside you. He groaned, resting his forehead against your back as he collapsed on you. His sweaty chest sticking against your back. He pulled out of you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He whispered.
“S’okay.” You said breathing hard, his cum seeping down your thighs. He kissed down your spine, his hand lovingly squeezing your hips.
He grabbed a towel from the dresser, cleaning your thighs off.
“Who would have thought you’d known about aftercare.” You chuckle softly, your heart rate slowly coming back to normal.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me sweetheart.” He huffs, a small smirk on his face as he tucked himself back into his pants. He reached down, pulling your bloomers back up over your hips.
“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, grabbing your blouse as he grabbed his shirt off the floor.
“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan.” He smirked walking towards you, buttoning his shirt as he stood in front of you. You rolled your eyes, buttoning your blouse. He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He said, his hand trailing down your jaw.
“Alright, fine. Mr. Callahan.” You huffed, a blush covering your cheeks as you rested your hands against his broad chest.
“Next time,” He tightened his grip on your hips, his lips against your ear, “You’re riding me.”
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#smut#arthur morgan smut#dutch van der linde#rdr2 smut#john marston#javier escuella#hosea matthews#red dead redemption#abigail roberts#abigail marston#jack marston#tilly jackson#mary beth gaskill#molly o’shea#miss grimshaw#enemies to lovers#lenny summers#charles smith#sean macguire#hihomeghere
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STUDYING WITH GOJO INCLUDES ✮⋆˙
featuring. gojo satoru x reader
warnings. clingy gojo, college! au, study buddies (u guys r dating) but he's unserious, soft gojo
note. sksjlddlsjjd look at me uploading anything but my 1k event, but pls i can't stop thinking abt studying with gojo and how unserious he will be during the session.
studying with gojo includes him whining about being bored because he's just naturally gifted — while you actually needed to study to match his brain capacity. he's a whiny baby about having to accompany you study when he was the one who volunteered to do so.
"baby, come on. can we please take a break? how long has it been? two hours?" he whines softly, his forehead had been stuck to the surface of the short table you had in your room. his long legs sprawled underneath it.
"satoru — it's been twenty minutes. and nobody forced you to be here, you can go if you want to," your answer only furthered his whining, like a small child who hasn't gotten what he wanted, he shifted a bit, letting the table move along with his movements; preventing you from focusing on the book you were scribbling on.
the man child finally pulls himself to sit up straight, a red blotch on his forehead. with furrowed brows, and a big frown on his face, he grabbed your pencil and tossed it across your room — sighing, you grabbed another one from your pencil case, and he did the same thing. only then after, the decided that throwing your pencil case across the room was the best choice.
"satoru, if you're not going to let me study, please leave."
yet again, another whine escaped his throat as he threw his head back onto your bed, "come on, 'ts good to take breaks, cuddle me, love me, pay attention to me!"
"we can do that later, 'ts a big exam next week . . ."
studying with gojo includes him distracting you with his love — whether it being a kiss, or just him stuck to your hips like a koala. he just needed a bit of love and attention as well.
gojo paced around your room, trying to distract himself from your silent form. poking around your figurines and shelves, looking through old year books, and even family albums. but nothing, he comes back to you, slotting your sitting form in between his open legs. gojo slithered his arms around your waist, burying his face into your shoulder.
"'m dying here y/n . . ."
your vague silence only offended him, "so y'don't care if your boyfriend's dying?"
sighing you replied, "i do care. but you're not," gojo grumbled under his breath, prepping his head up so his chin rested on top of your head, whistling out a a random tune that, of course, bothered you, "'toru, shut up."
"give me the love and attention that i deserve and maybe i'll stop," he nonchalantly said before continuing his whistling concert.
studying with gojo includes him finally being tired of not receiving what he wanted, and he turns sulky. his aura gloomy — and the corner of his lips tugged down into a big, giant frown.
gojo slipped himself under the table, resting his head on your thighs. the male looks up at you, only getting a good look of your chin and neck, he reaches his finger out, touching the tip of your chin before traveling down your neck.
still no love. or attention.
the male lets out one last (loud) sigh and tore himself away from you, plopping down on your bed. hiding under the covers, he curled himself up into a ball, his big back facing you — letting out grumbles under his breath as he hides his sorrow away.
you think gojo was being dramatic. he usually comes back, yearning for attention. but no, this time he didn't, just laying there on your bed for the next half an hour — where you coincidentally finished the last question in the practice page.
"satoru, are you asleep?" no answer. but the male shifted slightly, "satoru."
again, no answer. but gojo kicked his legs once, showing that he was indeed, not asleep at all. he had just been lying there, in the same position for the past half an hour.
"satoru, are you mad at me?"
gojo peeked one of his blue eyes from under the blanket and huffs childishly before grunting, he then prompted to pull down the blanket over his eye again. letting you have a taste of your own medicine, "fine, i was going to tell you that i can now give you love and attention. but you seem a little angry so i'm just gonna leave you alone—"
the male opened the blanket and pulled you under the warm fabric with him before covering you both, he immediately locks you in his embrace using a leg over your torso, "finally," he mutters out.
gojo pulled you in, a hand resting on your hips. his fingers raising the hem of your shirt just a bit to brush his digits on your skin intimately. he leans his head on top of your chest, "'m still mad at you if you're wondering."
chuckling, your fingers threaded with his white locks. your cheek pressed onto his head, "you're so childish, 'm not as smart as you, y'know? i need to study."
gojo hums softly, "there's still a week. seven days. you can start studying tomorrow, i promise i won't bother you then," he mutters out, his lips puckering into a small pout.
promises were meant to be broken anyways.
studying with gojo includes him promising he won't bother you the next time — and him ended up doing the same thing, because why study when you can love him instead?
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#fluff#jjk#jjk fluff#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#i love him so much#he's so clingy i love him#gojo#satoru#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo
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Inhale, Exhale
Stoner!Ellie Williams x Reader
Synopsis: It's your first time smoking, luckily you have a super hot stoner girlfriend to guide you
tags/Warnings: Established relationship, modern/college au, weed usage, Dom!Ellie (casually), might be slightly inaccurate, oopsies
The week had been brutal, a relentless onslaught of exams and assessments left you mere moments away from a breakdown. Each word you read is in one ear, out the other. Entirely incomprehensible. Your head hurts, your eyes hurt and your motivation is dwindling. Ah, the joys of college…
A knock on your dorm room door jolts you out of the complete disarray inside your head, which would've been a relief if the sound didn't reverberate around your skull. Okay, maybe it was time for a break.
You stand on legs that are weak from hours of sitting idly at your cramped desk. Reaching for the door handle, you swear you could almost start crying at the sight of your girlfriend. How did you get so lucky.
“I texted earlier to let you know I was coming but you never replied…” She starts as she squeezes past you, walking into your dorm room as if it was her second home (which - to be fair - it absolutely is). Her eyes scan the textbooks scattered on your desk as you sit on the edge of your bed. “"You okay?" she inquires softly at your silence, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. With a weary groan, you slump back onto your bed, “I never want to look at another textbook again”. Ellie chuckles affectionately, sitting next to you on the bed.
“How about you go shower and get comfy for me angel, I’ll pack all this shit up and we can just relax for a bit. You look all tense" "But ellie my exa-" "Your exams will go great. Just for tonight, kay? Even just for a few hours” Her tone is firm and reassuring.
You sigh with contemplation. I mean, she’s right. Your body is tense, your head is pounding, and you feel as if any more information might just cause your brain to shut down entirely. So you nod, pick out some pyjamas and make your way to the bathrooms. The idea of a warm shower, fresh clothes and the comfort of your nightly skincare routine is already easing all the built up pressure.
—------------------------------------
When you return to your dorm room feeling clean (and like you can actually think again) Ellie is sitting on your bed, textbooks packed away, her music playing softly from your speaker and a rolled blunt sitting between her fingers. She smiles at you softly when you step inside, patting the bed next to her “c’mere”.
You settle beside her, then flop over into her lap, head resting on her thighs. You turn over to look up at her, admiring the way she tilts her head back to exhale the earthy smoke away from you. She looks ethereal.
“Mmm… Ellie?”
“Yeah, baby?” she responds, her tone gentle and attentive.
“Do you think I could… try?” you ask tentatively, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity swirling inside you.
She seems momentarily surprised, before a soft laugh escapes her lips. “This?” she clarifies, holding the blunt out to you. You nod your head timidly. She knows you've never smoked before, it’s not that you think it's bad or are uncomfortable by it, you’ve just always been a little nervous about it.
Her auburn hair falls in front of her face as she looks down at you, hand caressing the supple skin of your cheeks, “Alright, sit up f’ me baby”
You sit on your knees, legs tucked neatly beneath you, watching as she takes another hit of the joint before moving all of her attention to you.
“You’re sure you wanna do this?” She checks, “Yeah, ‘m sure,” you reassure with a soft smile. You’d mentioned wanting to smoke with Ellie for a while now, and now is a better time than any, right?
“Open,” She taps your lips softly with her thumb and you part them as she places the edge of the blunt between them, “breathe in nice and slowly for me, bring the smoke into your mouth”. You take a steady breath in. You wonder if it's the first time you've taken a proper moment to breathe all day. It is. The warm smoke fills your mouth, swirling around your senses, and you hold it there for a beat before Ellie directs you again. “Good, breathe it into your lungs ‘nd then breathe it out, nice and slow”.
The smoke fills your lungs and for a moment you think you are going to cough, but manage to slowly breathe it out, watching as the smoke swirls around your small dorm room. You look back over at Ellie to see her watching you, eyes starting to glaze over and all filled with endearment.
She brings the blunt back to her own lips, inhaling deeply before her hand gently grasps your jaw. Instinctively, you part your lips, anticipation tingling through you as she exhales the smoke between you. "Breathe in," she softly commands, her lips hovering close to yours, her touch sending shivers down your spine. As her lips meet yours, she places gentle hands on the sides of your face. You can feel yourself relaxing, body easing up and thoughts becoming quieter, more gentle, more sluggish. You let her take the lead, it's soft and intimate.
As she pulls away, she shifts to lay on her back against your soft comforter, her arms opening invitingly to you. You crawl over, resting your head against her chest, finding solace in the tired ache permeating your bones. Ellie offers you another puff of the blunt and you gladly take it, letting the comforting scent soothe your exhausted mind. Ellie takes a last hit before ashing it out, rubbing your back with one arm while the other rests beneath her head.
“Get some sleep, okay?” she hums softly. Between your dazed mind, the gentle rhythm of your girlfriend's hands running up and down your spine, and the combined scent of her and the pot enveloping your senses, you don’t think you'd be able to stay awake even if you tried.
#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#tlou ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader
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FML:Relax
From the moment I arrived, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I had come on vacation to kick back for a few days and get some action, but the resort had nearly no women and was instead populated with almost all men. They seemed like nice guys when I talked to them, certainly my kind of guys with how jacked they were. Or at least I thought so.
“Hey cutie, wanna come spend some time with daddy?”
“A newbie! Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle and sweet with you.”
“You looking to top or bottom?”
I realized I must have come on the Gay Days, and the men there were not shy about coming on to me. I tried to politely excuse myself whenever they turned the topic to sex. I spent a lot of time at the pool trying to just relax and have a good time, but it was starting to tick me off.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.”
A man came and sat next to me. He was a scruffy guy, tanned and huge like most of the rest of them. The scent of sunscreen and BO rolled off him. His arms were wrapped in some nerdy tattoos but their size clearly showed he worked out hard. If he wasn’t here this week I would assume him to be a good pick for a gym bud.
“Yeah, first time. Didn’t realize I booked…uh…this week. Not really my scene.”
Something in his demeanor changed. It was hard to describe, but I felt a lot more at ease. He leaned over and began whisper to me,
“If I’m being honest. It isn’t much for me either. But fuck these gay guys know how to party. They’ve got just about anything you could want to take, and basically just pass the shit around. You ever actually tried poppers? I was fucked up bro.”
Maybe it was finally meeting another straight guy but I began relaxing.
He continued, “I got some stashed if you want to swing by and try some shit out.”
Maybe this vacation wouldn’t be such a wash.
I stopped by his room later that afternoon. He greeted me at the door and invited me in as he promised to show off the goods. The room was trashed. The floor was strewn with dirty shirts, shorts, and jockstraps. Shot glasses and beers were stuck to the tables. The bed was drenched in sweat. I stepped in and took a seat on the couch, cautions to avoid the mess. He sat down next to me.
“So, what have you got?”
“You now babe,” he said, throwing his arm in the air.
“Whaaaa…haaa” I started before my brain was afloat.
I slowly leaned forward, drawn in by the thick musk that radiated from his pit. I tried to resist but soon my nose was pressed against it as his sweat filled my brain. I tried to pull back but he rested his arm against the back of my head, pinning me as my brain shut down on the fumes. It wasn’t long before my tongue lolled out of my mouth.
“There you go. Relax. Good boy.”
Good boy. It echoed in my brain, bouncing till it was the only thought left. I quivered in anticipation as I continued to drink in his scent and let his hair tickle my face.
“Yeah, lap it up big boy. This is right where you belong. It was designed just for you, to trap guys and help them fit in a bit more.”
What did he mean by that? But as he told me to lap it up, it was no longer good enough to just smell. I gave a hesitant lick. It only took one as his sweat swam across my mind. All functionality shut down as I worshipped that pit. As I did, I began to feel a change. Deep within an itch, a need developed. A need to be desired by this man… no. To be desired by men. Any who would have me. I felt a new power flow through me, a revitalized energy and strength. He pulled my dumbstruck face out of his pit and gave my hair a quick tousle. His hand glided down my cheek to my chin, and with a firm flick of his wrist pulled my lips to his. He pressed my face to his in a deep kiss as new memories filled my mind. Memories of long nights dancing and drinking at bars. Days working out getting shredded before hitting the sauna for some fun. Of pride parades and glitter in my beard. The longer he kissed me the more I felt myself grow completely comfortable in his arms. I belonged here, with all the hottest guys living it up for a week at the resort. I had been coming here for years to show off, party hard, and fuck into the early morning. My old self was being flushed away, leaking out of my cock, while the new personality filled in the gaps.
My body began to change where his hands brushed over my body. Arms swelled as biceps grew to mounds on my arms. Pecs hung heavy with muscle. Thighs and legs sent slow rips through my shorts until they had burst through, leaving my swelling cock to fight the jockstrap underneath. Feet inched across the floor as my toes curled from the strain. Every inch writhed beneath his touch. He pulled me back to inspect me.
“Damn you’re turning out well, some of my finest work.”
I mumbled in agreement, still stuck in a state of ecstasy as I felt new power surging through me.
“Time to seal the deal.”
He slid his jock down, and the full force of his sweat and musk sent my brain swimming. I couldn’t resist as he slid his cock down my open throat, balls deep, and began face fucking me. As his bush filled my nostrils, pre slid down my throat in a steady stream. I felt warm all over, as a deep tan set in. I had come to this resort for years and loved sunbathing and showing off my muscles. The heat persisted, turning to a sweat, the sweat turning to a deep funk. It was the same smell invading my mind and body as he continued to thrust, deeper as my body adjusted to years of sucking men off. It felt like no surprise as a dusting of hair covered my pecs, then pushed down my stomach before my shaved down bush exploded. My pits filled in to better capture my own smell, and keep me just a little high on my own supply.
“Fuck yeah little bro, you’re gonna be so good out there.”
He slipped a hat over my head, and my mind filled with a new purpose. To kick back at this resort and fucking party. To feel pride in who I was and become one of the community. But, most importantly, to grow the tribe and bring more guys into the fold. I felt his cock tense in my mouth as my mind slowed down to accept my place as a gay god, to worship my bros and be worshiped. As thick ropes shot down my throat, I felt strong. I smelt rank. And I was fucking home.
The next day, a new guy showed up to the resort. Skinny, shy, out of place. I came over to talk with him.
“First time here, bro?”
“Yeah, not quite sure I belong.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. Throwing my arm behind my head. My musk caught his attention as his eyes began glazing over, “Why don’t I show you around?”
“Ye…yeah…yeah.”
“Don’t worry,” his face was soon resting in my pit, and I saw his muscles twitch with anticipation, “you’re gonna fit right in bro.”
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my heart swells at the thought of shy!reader kinda being overstimulated emotionally during rough sex with rafe and so she’s in doggy but reaches to hold his hand just to feel some affection from him☹️
this actually made me bark
when you could keep your eyes open, you were staring at the wood of rafe's headboard, watching the way it was slamming against the wall and the repetitive thudding that filled your ears. if rafe wasn't fucking you so hard that you were close to losing your mind, you'd be worried someone in the house can hear the two of you.
your mind, always overactive even in times like this, wanders. first you allow yourself to get a little concerned someone can hear you, so you get quieter, shoving your head into rafe's pillow to muffle the moans leaving your mouth. then you worry someone can hear the headboard, the slap of skin on skin.
even when the pleasure is so overwhelming, building up tense and low in your stomach, entire body feeling like it's aflame when rafe grips your hips and slaps your ass in between thrusts, you still feel your mind wandering, slipping further and further away.
you want it to shut up, so you close your eyes, head resting on rafe's pillow again. you try to focus on your boyfriend's groans, the way the noises coming from him make your toes curl and a fuzzy feeling overtake your brain.
"yeah, fuck, kid, keep takin' it-"
he's saying something, and you stupidly wonder if he's been talking to you this whole time. you'd been too busy thinking about nothing to realize. you tune in, realizing what rafe's saying is a little bit of the opposite of what you usually hear from him.
you turn your head a little, opening your eyes to look back at rafe. he's still slamming in and out, his eyes focused on where the two of you are connected. rafe's always handsome, almost overwhelmingly so, but especially like this, when he's so focused on pleasure he's not as mindful of what he's saying.
"y'like that, huh? yeah, you wanna watch? like the little slut you are?"
"oh-"
it comes out low and quiet, a little sound that lets him know you're paying attention. if possible, his grip on your hips gets harder, fingers digging into the plush of your ass while he pushes down on your arch, increasing his pace. it's too fast now, too full and the stretch too much. you squeal into the pillow, eyes getting crossed while rafe's words ring around your head.
"fuck, good girl. my good little whore, aren't you?"
"um-" he keeps going, and you don't want him to stop. you try to shift around but he's holding you so hard moving feels impossible, so you settle for what you can move, lifting your arm to rest on your back, hand reaching out for him. "rafe, hand, please-"
you can't see his face, but you feel the weight of his hand on yours, before he pulls out and flips you over. you fall onto your back with a quiet yelp.
"you okay?" he asks, hovering over you. you feel empty, feel your pussy clench around nothing. then you feel bad—you hadn't meant to make him stop.
"s-sorry, rafe, i didn't mean stop, i just wanted to feel close to you-"
"was inside you. what'd you mean closer? you okay?" he repeats, and you feel your face flush, everything going warm.
"yes, yes. i'm fine."
"you sure?" you nod, looking up at your boyfriend. he moves your legs while you lay back, lifting them with his arms and lining himself up. and then he puts his palm flat on yours, fingers interlacing while he pushes inside. he fucks you like that—both your hands holding his, slowly and somehow still rougher than before, and even after both of you finish, he doesn't let go. you fall asleep with fingers intertwined with his.
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Take Me Higher
Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣
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Send requests here
WC- 2.5k
Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc
Picture is not mine, credits to owner
————-
The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.
“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.
“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.
Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.
A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.
“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.
“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.
“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.
“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”
“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”
Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”
Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.
Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.
Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.
Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”
She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.
“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.
His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.
She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.
“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.
Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.
“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”
Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.
Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.
“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.
“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.
“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.
“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.
“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.
“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”
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How It All Began | Quinn Hughes
Summary: Quinns family finally finds out that Him and y/n are together. Featuring our local B.c. boy, the one and only Mat Barzal. Based loosely off of this.
Parings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader
Warnings: None I think. Maybe some anxious feelings. Part of this universe but can be read as a stand alone.
Wc: 5.7k
-
The door clicks shut, breaking your focus and signifying that Quinn is home from practice. As he passes by the couch, he drops a kiss to your head, ruffling your hair as he goes. "Hi baby," he murmurs quietly, not wanting to disturb you while you mark math tests.
"Hi Q," you say off-handedly, grimacing as you circle another question in red and write down the correct answer. This poor kid is going to need some extra help. You quickly scan your attendance list and put a star beside his name.
Quinn busies himself by taking a quick shower and cutting up some fruit as a snack before he flops on the couch and pillows his head on your thigh. Your fingers automatically delve into his hair, rubbing at his scalp soothingly. He lets out a contented sigh as he snatches the TV remote and navigates to YouTube to play some sort of educational video that will make his brain work.
Occasionally, he holds a piece of fruit up for you, and you take it without hesitation, often catching his fingers between your teeth playfully. Halfway through a video about Moser's circle problem, he pauses it and takes the pen and paper from your hand, setting them on the coffee table neatly.
"Sorry to disrupt your marking, babe," he says softly, holding up a strawberry for you in a sort of apology, "I have a question for you." His tongue darts against his lip in a nervous habit as he awaits your response.
"All good, baby; I could use a break anyway." You smile, happily taking the slice of strawberry into your mouth. You lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly, hoping to alleviate some of his nerves, "What's your question?"
"Will you come to Michigan with me this summer? I know you usually say no, but now you're my girlfriend, and I don't wanna spend the summer without you. I mean, I understand if you don't wanna, and I won't push, but it'd really mean a lot to me to have you there and-"
Your smile grows as he rambles, and you cut him off with a kiss. "Yes, Quinn, I'll come to Michigan with you this summer and for every summer after that, as long as you'll have me,"
The smile Quinn gives you is dazzling and filled with love, "for the rest of our lives?"
"For the rest of our lives," you confirm, sealing your lips over his in another sweet kiss. You pull away for air, smoothing his hair down with a smile. "Now make yourself useful and help me mark these tests," you say nudging him into a sitting position.
"Tyrant," he mutters, though he can barely keep the smile off his face. He splits the remainder of the stack of tests in half and slides a pile over to you. You give him the answer key, already having memorized most of the answers and the two of you work comfortably side by side. After the stack of tests is marked you hand Quinn your trusty sticker book, and he lights up as he takes it from you, he places a sticker on each test with such care it makes your heart melt.
The remainder of the evening passes by in the blissful peace of each other's company, and soon the two of you are curled around each other, fast asleep on the couch.
-
The months fly by as the weather grows warmer, and the canucks are in the playoffs. It's a bit of an adjustment, dealing with the chaos of the end of the school year while Quinn captains a playoff team, but if the pair of you are good at anything, it's adapting to what life throws at you.
Soon, hockey season is over, and it's the last day of the school year. Honestly, you are just as happy as the kids. The day flies by in a whirlwind of fun, and soon enough, you're hugging your students goodbye and promising you'll visit them in their class next year. You'll never admit it, but it makes you feel a little emotional every time.
Quinn picks you up from school with a bouquet of flowers and two slices of pie from the shop downtown that the two of you reserve exclusively for special occasions. Quinn leans over the center console and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, turning you to putty in his arms.
"Happy last day of school, Ms. Y/l/n," he smirked, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your cheek.
You can't help the giggle that falls from your lips, and you lace your fingers with his as he drives to Prospect Point. You pick a place on the sea wall for the two of you to sit and prepare to feast on the pie.
"To the best summer of our lives," Quinn grins, tapping his pie against yours. You smile, your heart full, and you dig in.
"How do you know it'll be the best summer of our lives?" You tease, watching the boats on the water.
"Because for the first time," Quinn murmurs with a grin, taking your chin between his pointer finger and thumb to make you look at him, "we'll be spending it together," he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
"I love you, Quintin," you hum with a smile.
"I love you too, Y/n," he leans against you, and you thread your fingers through his hair as you watch boats drift along the waterline, lit by the glow of the setting sun. And at that moment, everything was right in the world.
The sun disappears over the horizon, and Quinn wraps his arm over your shoulders as you walk back to the car, "we gotta get you packed," he mumbles against your hair.
"Ugh, don't remind me," you groan. "I hate packing,"
"Well, I already told you you could bring a small bag and I'll take you shopping when we get to Mich, but somebody didn't like that idea," he sasses, nipping at your ear.
You flick him in the nose, scowling, "Shut up,"
"Yes, ma'am," he smirks.
As soon as you get home, Quinn wastes no time, pulling out a suitcase for you as you go through the list of what you need to pack. Quinn leaves you to it, knowing that there's a method to your madness, and the only thing he can do to help is sit there and look pretty.
He's lounging on the bed while piles of clothing surround you. As you start neatly packing things into the suitcase you go through the pile of swimsuits once more, "Are you sure I need this many swimsuits?" You ask skeptically, for what is probably the third time.
"Yes, babe. We are on the water almost every day," he says again. His answer still the same as the last time you asked.
"Oh!" You spring up with a smile on your face and saunter to the closet, "I just remembered..."
"Remembered what, babe?" Quinn asks curiously, rolling over on the bed so he's no longer looking at you upside down as you emerge from the closet with a blue plastic card. You present it to him with a big smile.
He squints his eyes, snatching the card from your hands. "Is this real?"
You scoff. "Of course, it's real."
"No fucking way," Quinn says, wide-eyed, flipping it over and inspecting the back of it, "We have known each other for so long, and you never mentioned you had a boat license."
You roll your eyes and plant yourself in the middle of your piles of clothing again while Quinn inspects your very real boating license. "I basically grew up on the Okanagan, of course, I have a boat license."
"Oh baby, Jack just got demoted from first mate," he chuckles, grin spreading wide.
You giggle as you pack everything into the suitcase, "I'm excited to see everyone. It's been way too long."
"Speaking of seeing everyone..." he trails off, nervously fiddling with his fingers, "I didn't tell them about us yet. Or that you're coming."
Confusion is written on your features as you look at him. Your heart stutters a little. He notices the look on your face and is quick to tamper your worries. "I just- I wanted to tell them in person. You're so important to me and to my family as well, and it didn't feel right to tell them over the phone, you know?"
"I'm nervous." You say quietly, zipping up your suitcase after you've packed everything into it. Quinn stands, pulling you into his arms, you melt into the warmth of his body and loop your arms around his back.
"They already love you, baby, don't even worry," he says, planting a sweet kiss on your hair. You sigh against his chest and let the beat of his heart calm your nerves. His hands stroke your back in soothing circles, and he starts to sway the two of you back and forth.
"Alexa, play Heaven by Bryan Adams," Quinn says just loud enough for the device to pick up his voice. You smile into his chest as soft music fills the room, and all of a sudden, tears well at the corners of your eyes because this is everything you have ever dreamed of and more.
"I love you so much, Quinn," you murmur against his shirt, "more than I have words for."
Quinn pulls away, cupping your face and kissing the tears from your cheeks, "don't cry, baby," he says earnestly, not knowing the reason for your tears.
"Happy tears," you choke out with a smile, nuzzling your cheek against his hand with a happy sigh. He pulls you back into his chest and sways to the music until the song is over. You stand on your tip toes and press a sweet kiss to his lips. He smiles against your mouth "Gotta finish packing sweets," he mutters, squeezing your waist. You nip at his lip playfully, and he pulls away with an overdramatic hiss.
"Why'd you have to remind me?" You pout, crossing your arms against your chest.
Quinn chuckles, smoothing his tongue along his bottom lip, "Come on, babe, I know you won't be able to relax until you get it done. Plus, now it's just your airplane bag, and then you're free."
You sigh, knowing he's correct, as you gather the things that need to go in your backpack. Your iPad, current book, AirPods, chargers, wallet, passport, and all the other important stuff that need to go in your backpack. Quinn rolls your suitcase by the door, and you place your backpack on top of it, finally done packing for the night.
"How are we getting to the airport?" You ask, mouth full of toothpaste as you and Quinn prepare for bed side by side. Quinn's hair is held back by one of those silly skincare headbands.
You can't help but snap a photo of the two of you. Quinn patted his face dry with a towel, brown curls were pushed back by a lavender headband, you had your toothbrush hanging half out of your mouth, and your hair was pushed back with a matching blue headband.
Quinn rolls his eyes fondly and presses a kiss to your cheek and you snap another photo with a giggle. Domestic Quinn is your favourite Quinn because he's all yours. No one else gets to see him like this.
Quinn finishes drying his face, "Hmm, I think Barzy said he would take us, I'll text him and double-check."
It takes a minute for the nickname to place, but as soon as it does, you whip around to face him, a piece of floss stuck between your teeth, "Barzy? As in Barzal? Like Matthew Barzal of the New York Islanders?"
Quinn looks at you strangely, "What other Barzal's do you know?"
"Since when are you buddies with Mat Barzal?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
Quinn furrows his brows, trying to recall when he became friends with Mat, "Since I moved to Vancouver? I swear you knew this?"
"No, I didn't," you shake your head, throwing your floss in the garbage.
"His family lives in Coquitlam. I usually pick him up from the airport when he flies in if I'm still in Vancouver," he shrugs. He swore you knew all of this. Then again, this is the first time he's been around this far into the off-season. He unusually catches the first possible flight out to Michigan, but this time, he stuck around until you were finished teaching.
Your eyes light up in recognition. "Is that the 'Matty' you pick up from the airport every year?" You ask as all the pieces click into place.
Quinn nods, flipping off the bathroom light and texting mat while you curl up on your respective side of the bed, holding the quilt up for him to slip underneath. "Mat says he'll drop us off," Quinn says, ensuring his alarm is set before he plugs his phone in and slips under the covers beside you.
As always, you curl into his side, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you as close to his chest as possible, stroking patterns along your arm. You toss your leg over his hip, and his other hand finds its home on your leg.
"Night baby, I love you," you whisper against his chest.
"I love you too," he says, pressing a kiss to your hair.
-
The morning brings a whirlwind of chaos. Making sure neither of you forgot anything important, triple checking to be sure there's nothing left in the fridge that will go bad, amongst other things. There's a knock on the door while Quinn ensures everything is unplugged around the apartment.
"Ready to go?" Quinn asks as he's locking the apartment door. It's a rhetorical question; it's time to go whether you are ready or not, but the fact that he still cares enough to ask makes your chest warm.
"Yeah," you sigh, locking your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand and gives you a reassuring smile as the two of you walk to the awaiting car of Mat Barzal. He pops the trunk, and Quinn hoists your suitcase into the back.
You slip into the back seat, leaving the passenger side for Quinn. Mat whips towards you with a grin, tilting his head so he can see you over the rims of his sunglasses. "You must be the missus," he sticks his hand out for you to shake, "it's good to finally meet you. Huggy never shuts up about you."
You smile, shaking his hand, "Good to meet you too, Mat. I can't believe Quinn has never introduced us before now,"
Quinn slips into the passenger seat, rolling his eyes. "Cause I knew you two would get along like a house on fire, and frankly, that's something out of my nightmares."
"Oh hush, Huggy," Mat produces a tray from seemingly out of nowhere carrying three takeout cups, "drink your green juice before you pop a vein," he says, handing Quinn the cup with some healthy-looking green juice in it. Quinn takes the cup with a grumble.
"And for the lady," Mat produces a cup of coffee, "I hope you like hazelnut lattes. Quinn didn't text me back fast enough about your coffee order, so this is what I got."
"This is perfect, thank you." You say, taking the cup from him, incredibly happy now that you have your hands on some caffeine.
"Thanks for feeding my girlfriend's addiction you ass," Quinn grumbles. His tone is teasing, and his words are light-hearted, but it's funny how Mat sticks out his bottom lip in an offended pout.
"It's not an addiction!" You protest with a gasp, keeping your coffee close to your chest as if Quinn might try to steal it.
The rest of the ride to the airport is filled with friendly banter and you and Mat exchange numbers. Quinn pretends it's the worst thing to happen, but secretly, he's happy that you and Mat are getting along.
Mat steps out to do the bro hug thing with Quinn and then grabs your suitcase from the car. Mat pulls you into a side hug, "It was good to meet you, Missus. I know you probably know this, but Quinn loves you a lot. He wears his love for you on his face, which is surprising considering that he's... well, he's Quinn." Mat says with an awkward chuckle.
It's surprising to hear from someone else. You'd never really thought about how Quinn looks at you in public. To you, he's sassy, and he talks a lot. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, and he isn't afraid to make his feelings known. To the public, he's quiet and respectful and knows exactly what to say and when to say it.
So to hear that he wears his love for you in his face, publicly, in the open, for the world to see, well, it makes your heart flutter warmly in your chest.
Quinn rejoins the two of you, leaning casually against your suitcase. You take that as your cue to leave and turn to hug Mat for real.
"Thanks for saying that, Mat. It means a lot." You whisper to him.
Mat chuckles, patting you on the back, "Of course, it was good to meet you, Y/n. I'm gonna let you go now because Quinn looks like he might try to kill me, but send me lots of photos of the two of you this summer, ok?"
It's an odd request, mainly because you just met, but you like him, and you know you're going to become good friends, so you smile and promise you'll send him lots of photos.
"Thanks for driving us to the airport, Barzy," Quinn smiles, dabbing him up one last time before the two of you head into the airport.
Quinn offers his hand for you, leading the two of you through the airport. You take it gratefully, happy not to have to use your brain. Soon enough, you're seated side by side on the plane, ready to take off. Quinn hands you water while you pop your drugs, ready to pass out. Flying has never been a favourite activity of yours, so you usually take a couple of nighttime advils and knock out for the duration of the flight.
It's like magic, really; You go to sleep in one place and wake up in another. You pillow your head on Quinn's shoulder, and before you know it, you are out cold.
-
Approximately six hours later, Quinn is shaking you awake ever so gently, "We're here, babe, planes landed," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your head.
You blink the sleep from your eyes, your brain feeling a little groggy. "Times' it?" You mumble, flopping your head back onto Quinn's shoulder.
"4:27 pm,"
You hum in acknowledgement, rubbing your eyes with a sigh. The flight attendants announced that it was time to start deboarding. Quinn nudges you up while he grabs both of your backpacks from the overhead compartment. He gives you yours and grabs your hand, leading you off the plane to collect your baggage.
As the two of you wait by the baggage carousel, you lean against the sturdiness of Quinn's body, still groggy from the meds. Quinn rubs his hands up and down your arms in soothing motions. His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and he pulls it out with a huff. His eyes light up instantly when he sees that it's Jack and Luke in their group chat.
“Jack and Luke are here,” he whispers with a smile. Suddenly, you are wide awake; you haven't seen either of them since December, and holy fuck, you miss them. “I told them to park and come in,”
“They still don't know I'm here, right?” you question excitedly. Quinn nods, his eyes sparkling with amusement at how excited you are. “You face that way, and tell me when they’re coming,” you say, stepping away from Quinn so you aren't standing suspiciously close to him. Quinn chuckles at your request and does it anyway, facing the entrance to the airport so he can see when his brothers enter. You are practically vibrating with excitement as you wait for them to arrive.
You and Quinn can hear them before you see them, “-well, he probably told us to come in because he has a suitcase or something,” Jack says, exasperated.
“But why does he have a suitcase? He never brings a suitcase?” Luke asks confused
They round the corner as Jack sighs. He points to Quinn and slaps Luke upside the head, “Go ask him yourself,”
You are covering your mouth with a hand to keep your laughter quiet, and Quinn is peaking at you out of the corner of his eye with a very amused look.
“What’r you smiling about Quinner?” Luke asks, looping his arm around his brother. Quinn pats his back as Jack joins the hug, throwing himself at Quinn’s free side. Quinn loops his free arm around him with a grunt. “Just happy to see you dumbasses,”
“So why’d you have luggage?” Luke asks, brows raised.
You choose that moment to face them, “It’s mine, actually,” you grin.
Both of their jaws drop to the floor, and they scramble to untangle themselves from Quinn and throw themselves at you instead. Jack gets to you first, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Luke hugs you around your back. It's awkward because of your backpack, but he is too impatient to wait for Jack to let go, “Y/n, are you really here?” Jack says quietly.
“No, she’s a figment of your imagination,” Luke says with an eye roll, squeezing you just a little tighter “Yes, she’s here, dumbass,”
Quinn chuckles at the interaction, grabbing your suitcase off the conveyor belt as it passes. He leans on it, watching as his brothers practically squeeze the life out of you.
“No one asked you,” Jack huffs. You smile against Jack's neck and tap his arm for him to let go of you. Jack whirls on Quinn, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “How come you didn't tell us she was coming?”
“It was a surprise.” he shrugs with a smirk.
Luke loops an arm around your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. You have known the kid since he was a fourteen-year-old who barely came up to your shoulder. At this point, he is basically your little brother. Hopefully, one day, he will be.
“Does this mean you finally pulled your head out of your ass and confessed that you’ve been head over heels for her since you’ve met?” Jack asks bluntly, he pulls on the strap of your backpack to take it from you, and you let him gladly..
Luke cackles, and you laugh behind your hand while Quinn goes red in the face. “Technically, I’m the one who confessed.” you grin, walking towards the door.
“So tell us the story,” Jack nudges with a grin.
“Oh god, can we not?” Quinn groans, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Quinn, please tell me you did not embarrass the family name,” Luke says all too seriously.
“Shut up, Luke. At least I have a girlfriend.”
“So he did embarrass the family name then,” Jack says teasingly.
You just smile, and Jack breaks out into a cackle. Quinn grumbles unintelligibly as he places your suitcase into the trunk. He holds his hand out for the keys, and Luke pouts but hands them over without argument as the older sibling, Quinn, is quite literally incapable of allowing his younger siblings to drive while he is in the car. Quinn opens the passenger door for you, and you slide in with a smile, kissing him on the cheek.
“UGH, THAT WAS SO GROSS,” Luke yells dramatically, covering his eyes. “Keep your grimy lips off her, you heathen!”
“She literally kissed me, you dumbass,” Quinn says, rolling his eyes as he adjusts the seat to his comfort, he laces your fingers together, and you keep your intertwined hands perched in your lap. The drive to the lake house is filled with friendly chatter. Jack and Luke ask about your work, how the kids are, and when they can come to visit next year. You ask them about their last season, how their summer is going, if they are excited for the next season, and everything else that comes to mind.
It’s almost sad that the drive is over as the car pulls up to Lake House. Until you remember you’re about to see Ellen and Jim for the first time in a while. The excitement returns tenfold, and you don't even care about surprising them. As the car rolls to a stoop and you burst out before Quinn has had the chance to put it in park, you can’t remember why you were nervous about coming to Michigan.
“Hi Quinn, we’re in the kitchen!” Ellen's voice calls as she hears the front door open. Following the sound of Ellen's voice you find the kitchen easily.
“Hi El, Hi Jim,” you say with a sheepish smile. They look up, startled by a voice that is most definitely not Quinn.
Jim comes over with a smile, pulling you into a side hug. “Hey Kiddo, long time, its good to see you.”
“Oh my goodness! Y/n!” Ellen drops what she is doing and practically runs to hug you, “Welcome to Michigan, Honey! How come no one told us you were coming? Where are the boys?”
As if on cue, the boys appear in a wave of chaos, Luke dragging your suitcase, Quinn and Jack carrying the backpacks. “Hey, mom, hey, dad,” Quinn says, dropping his bag and hugging them respectively.
Ellen nudges him in the stomach with an elbow, and he doubles over dramatically. “How come you didn't tell us you were bringing Y/n?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her son.
“She’s finally his girlfriend!” Luke yells as he drags your bags upstairs to Quinn's room.
Ellen's head whips between you two, “surprise,” Quinn says sheepishly, making jazz hands at his mom. Jim snorts and resumes setting the table. Ellen’s face settles into a soft, knowing smile. And she pulls you in for another hug along with Quinn.
“I thought he was never gonna confess at this rate.” Ellen teases.
“Well, actually,” you start with a grin, and Quinn is already groaning, “I was the one who confessed,”
“Well, we would love to hear the whole story at dinner, Quinn. Why don’t you give her a quick mini-tour and then freshen up? Dinner will be ready in less than ten.”
“Sure, Mom,” he drops a kiss to her hair and grabs you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen, back into the living room and up the stairs where Luke had disappeared with your luggage, pointing out things along as you go. He promises a more in-depth tour after dinner as he drags you to his bedroom so the two of you can freshen up.
Jack and Luke had brought all of your luggage up, thank god. You grab your toothbrush out of your bag, and Quinn points you in the direction of the bathroom. “Do you want something to change into?” he asks as he shuffles through his closet.
“I wouldn't be opposed to a t-shirt,” you answer, undoing your hair and rubbing your fingers into your scalp to release the tension from having your hair up since this morning. You brush your teeth quickly and strip off your hoodie, tossing it on top of your suitcase, as Quinn hands you a t-shirt. As you pull it over your head, the comforting smell of Quinn engulfs you, and you sigh happily.
Suddenly, Quinn is in front of you, wrapping his arms around you loosely, and you practically fall into him. “How are you feeling?” he asks gently, his hands finding your bare skin under your shirt.
“So happy I came with you, Q,” you smile against his chest.
“Me too, baby, me too,” he sighs.
Ellen's voice echos up the stairs, saying that dinner is ready, and Quinn places a kiss on your cheek before loosely tangling your fingers together and leading you back down the stairs. Quinn sits on your left, your thing comfortable resting on top of his. Luke is on your right, and Jim, Ellen and Jack are across from you.
“So tell us the story of how you finally got together,” Ellen prompts, handing you the potatoes.
“Oh god, must we?” Quinn groans,
“Quinn did something embarrassing apparently,” Jack grins, piling his plate high with food.
Their parents don't comment, but the sly smiles that adorn their faces tell you they expected nothing less from their son. “Please spare no expense. We've only waited half a decade for this,” Luke says seriously.
“It was nothing special, really,” you smile, “we were just having dinner, and then it slipped out.” you shrug.
Jack pokes you with his foot under the table, and you glare at him playfully. “Come on, you are holding out on us. What happened after that?”
“Nothing,” you smile.
“Nothing?” Luke questions, and you know he’s caught on as you nod in confirmation.
“As in…” Ellen eyes Quinn with an intensity that only a mother can manage, “Quinn did nothing,”
Quinn hides his face, absolutely mortified, “he didn't do anything, didn't say anything, he just kind of stood there with a blank stare,” you say, smiling fondly as you recall how the night went. It was funny looking back on it now, but at that time, it was the most horrifying moment of your life.
“Quinn, seriously!” Luke scolds, “The girl you love confesses her undying feelings, and you do nothing! That's so embarrassing. We’re renouncing you as a Hughes.”
“Pretty sure I'm the only one who has that power, kiddo,” Jim chimes in with a teasing smile.
“So what happened after that?” Jack encourages with a wave of his hand.
“Well, naturally, after you confess your feelings for your best friend and he just kind of stands there frozen like a baby deer in headlights, you feel pretty mortified,” you shrug, “so naturally, I ran away.”
“Oh my god! You didn't!” Luke gasps dramatically.
“Mhmm,” you nod, “I did,” you nudge Quinn gently so he can continue the story.
“Forgot her phone, keys, wallet, everything,” Quinn says, shaking his head, “I was freaking out, so I kinda just ran out of the apartment after her. I’m sprinting down the streets of downtown Vancouver after dark, and it starts raining. Eventually, like, ten minutes later, I found her crying on a park bench, soaked to the bone and shivering like there was no tomorrow.”
“And just as I was about to take off again, he grabbed me by the wrist and told me he loves me too,” you say, smiling softly.
“Dude, that's straight out of The Notebook,” Jack laughs,
“Well, that will make a fun wedding story.” Ellen smiles,
“That's what Quinn said,” You say, grinning.
“Good job, Quinner. I honestly expected much more embarrassment on your part.” Luke says much too happily.
“Gee, thanks for having so much faith in me, Moose.” Quinn rolls his eyes.
“I’m sure the real version is much less PG,” Jack mutters with a smirk, earning himself a jab from his mother. Your cheeks warm, and your gaze drops to your plate while the tips of Quinn’s ears go pink.
Jack’s smirk grows wider at your reactions, and he's cackling as he takes his next bite of food.
“After that, I moved into his place, and that's basically it, and now we're here.”
“And we're glad to have you,” Ellen smiles.
The remainder of dinner passes quickly, the conversation flowing between the five of you easily. You help clean the kitchen. “Wanna do a sunset boat ride?” Quinn asks as he dries his hands on the dish towel, “I'm itching to get on the water.”
“I'm down,” Luke and Jack say simultaneously, while Jim and Ellen nod in agreement.
“Everyone get a hoodie, you know how cold it gets on the boat as soon as the sun starts to set,” Ellen instructs while she heads up the stairs to grab hoodies for her and Jim.
“I’ll go get two for us,” Quinn murmurs, disappearing up the stairs behind his mom.
He comes back down, not a minute later, with two hoodies in hand. He hands you the blue Canucks hockey one and takes the grey one for himself.
“Oh, by the way, Jack,” Quinn starts as you all make your way to the dock, “you've been demoted as first mate and secondary driver,”
“What?” Jack practically screeches, “What did I do to deserve this?” he whines.
Quinn simply whips your boat license out of his pocket and shows it to Jack with a shit-eating grin.
Jack's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Don’t worry, Jack,” you laugh, “I would never usurp your position like that.” you pat him on the head reassuringly, and he can't help but smile at you.
Quinn hops over the side of the boat, and ever the gentleman offers you a hand. You take it with a smile and go to choose a seat, but before you can do so, Quinn is pulling you onto his lap in the driver's seat. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You are, after all, in front of his family. No one comments. They all simply smile knowingly as Quinn wraps one arm around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder.
With the comforting strength of Quinn’s body beneath you, the sunset on the lake and the soft chatter of the Hughes melding with the wind rushing in your ears, you decide that this will, in fact, be the best summer of your life.
-
Ya'll I am so so sorry this took so long. It was supposed to be out Friday, then Saturday, then Sunday, then Monday morning. And here we are. Monday night. Finally.
Some crazy shit happened 😭
Anyways, last final is on Thursday and then I have all the free time in the world to write!
Hope yall are having a wonderful day/night/evening/time etc.
As always, comments are much appreciated.
#quinn hughes#qh43#hughes brothers#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#hockey blurb#hockey imagine#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes oneshot#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes blurb#nhl imagines#nhl blurb#loving you is as easy as abc 123
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Rough Night
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Thruple Dynamic, Smut
It was 4:56 am when you flopped over in bed for what felt like the 100th time. You were on the verge of tears at this point because all you wanted was to sleep. You let out a frustrated whine that stirred the sleeping being next to you,
“Y/n. It’s 5 in the morning,” Buck said with his face still smushed into his pillow.
“I can’t sleep.”
He sighed deeply and turned on the bedside lamp; turning over to prop his head in his hand and look at you,
“What can I do?”
“Nothing,” you said with a furrow in your brow.
“Nothing?” He asked, trying to catch your eye. You briefly look at him before huffing and looking up at the ceiling,
“My mind won’t shut off.”
“What’s going on?” His brow started to furrow a bit. The thought of you being riddled with stress or anxiety gave him stress and anxiety.
“I don’t like him out there by himself. He should’ve called.”
Buck’s realization set in and he let out a small chuckle,
“Babe. He’s not alone,” he said reaching out to caress the side of your face.
“You’re not with him,” you said finally turning your head to him.
“It’s a simple call. They didn’t need me.”
“If it’s so simple then why hasn’t he called?”
“Aha. I don’t know. But if he hasn’t called now then it just means he’s on his way.” Buck barely got to finish the sentence when the deep click of the front door being unlocked sent shockwaves through your body. You spring leaped out of bed practically busting through the bedroom door like the Kool-Aid Man to race down the hall.
Your brain registered Eddie coming through the door, but failed to send the signal to your feet to stop,
“Whoa! Ha ha! Hi!” You jumped in his arms giving him no time to put his stuff down. The grip you had on around his neck looked lethal, but was filled with nothing than love and relief. You began peppering his neck and face with kisses until he finally caught you lips.
Buck came around the hall and smiled at the sight in front of him. Eddie walked the rest of the way through the door, shutting it and dropping his belongings. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing you deeply. He started to spin around and you had a giggle fit. You settled down quickly looking in his eyes,
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he stared at you for a couple more seconds before kissing you on the nose and putting you down,
“What are you still doing up?”
“She’s had a rough night,” Buck said coming up behind you.
“Oh yeah? Rough how?” Eddie said expressing slight concern. The look in his eyes made your stomach do the thing and you instinctively looked back at Buck. Not to look for approval, but you’re honestly not really sure why. He just nodded his head and you turned yours back to Eddie.
You’re still getting adjusted to expressing your feelings so you had a staring contest with his chest,
“I don’t like when you go on runs without him.” You slightly turned half of your body towards Buck before looking back to Eddie with a pout.
Eddie looked at Buck in such awe of the girl between them. He grabbed the sides of your face with both hands, pulling you into a sweet kiss. Suddenly you feel fingers tracing your arms before a wet, spongy sensation was being placed on both shoulders. Buck kissed from your shoulders to where the side of your neck connected, biting lightly then running his tongue over the slight sting.
You moaned at all of the attention you were getting when Eddie released the kiss and Buck turned your head, shoving his tongue in your mouth. Eddie took over where Buck left off and attacked the left side of your neck. He kissed down to the exposed skin on your chest peeking from your tank top before kissing down your clothed body.
When he was on his knees in front of you, you felt your shorts being pulled down now exposing the cotton panties you were wearing. Eddie left open mouthed kisses both of your hip bones, teasingly lowering your panties. Buck’s hand wrapped around the side of your neck when you felt a slick strip being placed on your pussy.
You moan instinctively, breaking the kiss from Buck to look down at Eddie. Your chest was rising and falling so hard, but he looked up at you with his mouth never ceasing to stop. Letting out a low growl, he pulled your hips into his face even more. You let out an audible gasp when you reach for Buck’s hands and place them on your clad tits. He immediately began kneading and pinching at your hardening nipples. You rested your head back flush against his chest and closed your eyes.
Buck started to remove the straps from your shoulders when you felt Eddie’s hand scale all the way up your body and wrap around your throat, pinning you in the position. Your tank top was down around your midsection with a hand around your throat and kisses being placed randomly on your upper body.
Buck lifted the tank top up and off completely before teasing your lips with two fingers. You instinctively open your mouth, taking in the same fingers that have given you orgasm after orgasm. He pushes past the soft palate of your tongue until he feels your throat constrict around his fingers and fight against Eddie’s grip. You gag with his hand in your mouth earning a deep moan in your ear. He slowly pulls out, draping the string of saliva down your chin and letting it run down. He keeps doing that until he’s gathered enough for a nice streak to run between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach.
You are incredibly close to cumming when Eddie licks a full strip from your pussy up to the stream waiting for him. He stands up biting your shoulder just as roughly as Buck when he looks his partner in the eye. You couldn’t see Buck’s reaction, but you could guess what it was by the way you’re being flung over Eddie’s shoulder. He lands a nice slap to your ass before beelining for the bedroom. You look up briefly to see Buck right behind, taking off his shirt with a smirk.
You only heard the door close, but the neighbors heard everything else.
#eddie 911#911 smut#buck 911#eddie diaz 911#eddie diaz 9 1 1#evan buckley x black!reader#evan buckley smut#evan buckley imagine#evan buck buckely#eddie diaz headcanon#eddie diaz smut#eddie diaz imagine
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@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D
The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.
But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.
Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.
The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.
“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.
“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.
He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?
But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.
“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”
Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.
And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.
Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.
It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.
***
The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.
Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.
One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.
Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.
He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.
He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.
It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.
It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.
Update: there's now a sequel post :D
#truly the ultimate idiot4idiot couple#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#fanfic#fruity ficlet
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sweet on you | jason grace
wc + pairing: 1k, jason grace x f!reader
notes: short-ish jason blurb while i chalk up some of my beefier fics (& my 1k celebration thank u again)<3 this is my first time publishing for him so hopefully this isn't too ooc! i need to let myself write shorter stream of consciousness things,, all fluff, just jason taking your makeup off after a party <33 also its set at chb because i said so
Whenever Jason washes off your makeup, he acts like it's his sworn duty.
You’re a little hazy as he wets a cloth in the sink, repositioning himself between your legs that hang limply off the bathroom counter. You keep scanning his face for any trace of weariness or urgency. After a long day of camp duties, the last thing you think he’d want was to clean up his drunken girlfriend after a secret party. But he’s as kind and patient as ever, and you don’t know if it’s your heart or the alcohol talking, but you are deliriously in love with him right now. He’s a leader—a brave, powerful demigod—but he’s only that good because he’s gentle. That's what you see, anyway. Everyone loves him for a reason, but you're still sure you love him most.
You got drunk. You got anxious. But it’s more than worth it if Jason takes care of you after. Even under these fluorescent bathroom lights, he’s beautiful.
“Why thank you,” he says, a bemused smile on his face.
You blink. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Sure did.”
The scar on the corner of his lip lifts as he kisses your cheek. You hum pleasantly, and you feel the ghost of his laugh before he pulls away. “Close your eyes for me?”
You oblige. In seconds, you’re greeted with the warm press of a towel on your face. Jason keeps you in place with his hand cupping your chin. “Let me know if I poke your eyes, okay?”
“If you do I’ll just bite your finger.”
“Awesome.” He works on sweeping the cloth over your skin to drag off all that makeup. You wait patiently, happily, indulging in the occasional idle chatter and the steady brush of Jason’s thumb underneath your chin. Every pass of his fingers against your face lulls you further into your haze. He’s warm, methodical, sweet. He switches the cloth to a different side and drags up your cheekbones. Your brain is mush with alcohol and appreciation.
“‘M sorry I got carried away, Jace,” you mumble, head swaying involuntarily. “Didn’t need to come get me like this.”
His soft laugh swims in your ears, and he lowers himself a bit to see you better. “Trust me, I wasn’t doing much. The only notable thing this evening was crossing the hundred-page threshold in my book.”
“Is it good?” You slur, toying with his dog-tag necklace you’d gotten him for his birthday.
He tilts his head, “Eh. Alright. I still like taking care of you more, though.”
You must be beaming stupidly wide, because Jason shakes his head with a smile, and he wraps his arms around you to kiss your jaw. “Besides, you’re sweet on me when you’re drunk.”
The feel of his lips would have shut you up in any normal circumstance, but your idiotic thoughts only heighten. “Sweet on you?”
“Mmhm.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Yes! They … people say it.”
His cheeks flush red in that insanely adorable way, and he presses his face back into your neck. “They said it in my book,” he mumbles, and you laugh so hard he has to shush you.
He goes through the rest of your rather particular skincare routine as per your instructions. He’s seen you do it a thousand times, but you repeat the order anyways just to be sure—although it’s likely you’re jumbling up your words and taking too many pauses for any of it to come out coherent. He takes his time, focused intently on the planes and ridges of your skin. If you were any more sober you’d probably be self-conscious, but sometimes his thumb runs across your cheek with a tenderness that has nothing to do with your serums.
Once all’s said and done, your skin refreshed, you’re practically snoozing on the counter. “Sweetheart,” Jason hums, winding arms around you once more, “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Only if it’s with you,” you yawn, cheek smushing into his chest.
“Well, that’s a given.”
He’s smiling again as he runs his hands down to your thighs, so you can loop your legs around his hips. “Hold on, okay?”
You oblige, relishing in the curl of his biceps against your sides as he hoists you off the counter. Usually you’d be hesitant to let him carry you around with you clinging to him like this, but your capacity for embarrassment had vanished about two drinks ago. You hear him chuckling into your hair as the breeze tickles your face, although it's far less severe in his arms.
Camp’s practically deserted this time of night so Jason has no problem getting you into his cabin. He puts you down on his lonely bed in a sea of marble, lit with nothing but the warmth of his reading lamp. “Thank you, baby,” you murmur as he helps you out of your clothes and gives you a shirt of his own. The way he smells reminds you of morning mist as he ties your hair back.
Soon you’re in your favourite place in the world: drowned in blankets on a cool summer night in Jason’s bed. You’re nestled snug against his chest, letting the fog in your mind settle as he traces shapes on your back beneath your shirt. Transfixed by the ebb and flow of his breath, you can’t help but press your lips to his collarbone, lazy chapstick kisses spooling onto his skin.
“Y’re right,” you mumble, “I am sweet on you.”
Jason laughs quietly, setting down his book. He taps on your chin to draw you out of his chest, leading you to his mouth. You’re giggling and falling into him before you even kiss. He tastes like sweet mint as he cages you against him with his arms, nothing but gentle. “Love you,” you whisper with a plucky smile.
He kisses your forehead, “I love you.” He disposes of his glasses and turns off his lamp, sinking the both of you down onto the mattress. “Get some sleep, angel.”
You must be a lot better at following instructions than you thought, because you smother yourself in his warmth and you’re sure you’ve never slept better.
#perrie’s fics#jason grace x reader#jason grace#jason grace fic#jason grace x you#pjo x reader#pjo fic#jason grace blurb#jason grace imagine#jason grace fluff
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