#a little nervous about this one. it's kinda weird?

[thaatdigitaldiary]

open your eyes

paige bueckers x fem reader

you and paige have been best friends since highschool. being basically inseparable your whole lives and going into college, you’re so oblivious to the fact that your best friend’s “kind words” was her flirting with you.

fluff and flirtation, minimal drinking, slight angst but cuteness at the end

hiii!! so this is my second fic and i’ll admit this is fun LMFAO, expect more! thank you for the love on my last one!! masterlist coming soon for ya - ke

enjoy!🙂‍↕️ (kinda long!) tags: @rosemariiaa @bueckerscore @juspeaks/@ohbueckers @ashortyluvsports @patscorner @mrsarnold here yall go <3

you and paige were inseparable all your lives. there was never a moment you were apart, and if you were, questions like "where's paige" or "where's y/n" would surface, unusual if you two were seperated.

paige has been good at basketball her whole life, she was popular, good at sports, and overall a major people person, while you were more introverted and quiet, and less known around the school. it sucked that when people DID know you, they didn't know your name. "oh that's paige's best friend," "oh yeah, paige knows her,". you got over it after a while because paige cared about you, and that's what mattered most.

paige however, made sure she mentioned you in every conversation possible,

"y/n loves those,"

"y/n is smart as hell, she helped me pass all through highschool. she's amazing at like.. everything,"

"she just gets me"

being a senior in highschool was your biggest year, graduating and taking the next step in life, not by yourself but with your best friend. paige and you both were committing to uconn, an amazing school with great academic programs, and an amazing basketball team for paige. the one thing paige was excited for, was spending the next four years with her best friend, who for some reason she couldn't keep her eyes off of.

paige constantly beat herself up for slowly falling for you, as you weren't huge on reciprocating the sappy things like she was, but in all honesty that was just her personality. paige would occasionally flirt with you, but you just assumed it was her being kind and complimenting you, even though everytime it happened your knees felt like they'd snap.

paige was a gorgeous girl, beautiful blue-filled eyes, that pierce everytime you two made eye contact with one another, it made your stomach ripple. but why?

it was a saturday night, around 9 pm when paige texted you to come to a small get together being hosted at one of the men’s teams houses for uconn basketball players, but you know paige can't go anywhere without you.

you answer back, a little nervous as parties aren't your strong suit, but soon after you receive another text.

"i know parties aren't your thing beautiful, i want you to know that if at anytime you wanna leave, i'm leaving too"

she really knows you huh?

"i want you to have fun p, i'll be good i promise" you said, not really meaning it, but also not wanting to interfere with your best friend getting to know some people on campus.

"ma listen, i'm here with you, so i leave with you. got it?"

you don't put up a fight, you respond with a "got it.", and put your phone down to find something to wear.

you didn't understand why paige called you these nicknames, but all you knew was it drove you crazy, and anytime someone else said it, it didn't hit the same.

was that weird?

you go looking in your closet, recently purchasing some new skirts, bodysuits, and dresses to try and switch things up from your usual overly basic outfits.

you wore a black flared bodysuit, something a little out of your comfort zone, but you've been going to the gym a lot recently, and your body was on point, and what better way to show it off?

after getting dressed, doing your hair and makeup and spraying your perfume, you go to put on a gold locket, inside holds a picture of you and paige as kids on halloween, you two dressed as princess peach and mario, (paige's request), faces so youthful.

watching paige grow up came with its perks. she got super talented, even taller, more wise and mature, muscular, and fucking beautiful.

looking at her arms was a daily occurrence to say the least.

was it weird for you to look at paige this way, after all she is your best friend, but you can't help how good she looked.

if only you knew.

after you're finished getting ready, you take a shot just to be safe, needing to ease up a little. you text paige that you're done getting ready, and she quickly responds,

"i'm otw"

why did your stomach drop? was it the shot?

don't be stupid.

a couple minutes pass, and your dorm door knocks, knowing it's paige, you straighten your hair up and go answer it.

she immediately embraces you, her tall figure taking you in, and holding you for a little over the time you should be hugging your best friend, well at least you thought.

"damn you look good y/n," she said looking you up and down and smirking, making you blush slightly.

"thank you p, i really didn't know what to wear so i hope this was good enough," you tell her, just happy she thinks you look beautiful.

"you look amazing ma, you always do."

can she be anymore obvious?

"you don't look too bad yourself p." smiling at her, making paige turn red in the face.

she had on a black shirt and cargos, almost matching you in a way, but you liked that honestly.

you two arrive to the party, and you're introduced to paige's basketball team, meeting some really funny and sweet girls, making you feel welcome and comfortable. they grew to know you for you, instead of having the "paige's best friend" title.

you really didn't wanna drink despite your shot earlier, but you were still so tense.

even worse now that you can't shake the feeling that you think you're possibly in love with paige.

but that'd be stupid, paige doesn't see you in that way.

but paige did, she always has.

she was the one to be by your side, the one to be there when you cried, she always was regardless.

she tried to make things obvious, she flirted with you any chance she got, called you nicknames only you deserved, made sure you were okay in every inconvenience, when you cried because of school and home life, she was there, she was your outlet.

you were queasy, feeling sick and you didn't know why.

then you look up and see paige and another girl, except she's hitting on paige.

and it makes you so upset.

you storm out of the party, tears slowly forming in your eyes, fucking up your makeup you took ages on, making you even more frustrated. paige texts your phone,

"where are you??? did you leave??? i can't find you y/n i'm worried"

"y/n??"

"ma please respond where are you"

you open the message, not really wanting to, but you want her, so bad.

"i'm outside." you type back, tone passive aggressive.

she sees you sitting on the stairs outside the house, hands on your face to cover your mascara stained eyes.

"what's the matter ma?"

"why did you leave, i told you we leave togethe-"

"it doesn't matter paige." you cut her off.

she takes your hands away from your face, so she can get a good look at you.

"tell me what's wrong, please?"

you look at her soft expression, eyes full of love and concern, and it dawns on you.

i'm in love with my best friend.

"i don't know paige, it's so confusing, I'M confused."

"confused how?" keeping the curiosity in her voice, letting you know she was interested in what you had to say.

"i guess seeing you and that girl tonight pissed me off, i don't know why i'm feeling this way, i'm sorry."

"it pissed you off?" she asks.

"yeah, it's weird i know, i can forget about the whole thin-"

she cuts you off with a kiss, holding your face while your lips connect, feeling her nose brush against yours, and smiling into the kiss.

“cmon mama open them eyes, all i want is you.” she tells you, making your eyelashes flutter.

“i was scared okay, my eyes are open now i swear.” you say jokingly, you two laughing and going to hug each other.

you smile at paige, knowing your feelings were valid.

"you know how long i've wanted to do that for?"

"you really know how to make a girl wait, ma." she says, making you laugh.

"that's my girl. you've got the prettiest smile ever ma."

you blush at her comment, knowing you can accept it as her officially flirting with you, and not making you feel crazy for thinking such.

my girl.. you could get used to that, don't you think?

HELLURRR!! i hope you guys enjoyeddd, my back hurts cause i was teeww locked in but i love you guys 🙂‍↕️

[deepseacolors]

@spr-ingo May, Day... 3??: Alternator/X-ING

...I'm not great at, uh. Time management. Whoops!

Even though it's late, I still wanted to get this out before the last event day of the last event month. I have a couple other incomplete pieces from earlier days that I might like to polish up and post sometime, but this one is the MOST complete of the batch. (And, at over 3,000 words, it is without contest the longest thing I have EVER written at this point. Fun fact!)

This one is, um. A little strange. After playing the Alone inthe Dark remake, I just got a hankering for a survival/psychological/cosmic horror AU. Emmet was originally going to be the protag of this AU, but isn't it this Ingo's event? He should get the dubious honor of survival horror protag status. I think he wears it pretty well, personally.

Warnings: Some unreliable narrator, memory issues, something approaching a panic attack toward the end. Things lurking in the dark.

While nothing bad really happens in this one, it does very vaguely reference bad things (parental death, familial estrangement) happening in the past. Additionally, it takes a pretty sharp tonal shift about halfway through.

I personally don't think it's all that bad, but if you're not good with spooky stuff, best be cautious.

--

The river sparkles cheerfully in the bright midday sun, and Ingo has half a mind to curse it.

There’s no way he can cross this unaided. Even if Ingo were able to swim, and even if he didn’t already know for certain that some of the—creatures residing in this place could swim like Sharpedo, the river is much too wide. Ingo would exhaust himself before making it halfway.

And he is already much too familiar with the sensation of drowning.

When he gets his brother out of this place and brings him home, Ingo vows that he’ll never step foot near another body of water deeper than a bathtub for as long as he lives.

But for now… Ingo eyes that incongruent tower looming over the trees past the river.

Specifically, he examines the great emblem carved on it’s wall, glittering like gold against bright marble finish.

Digging through his coat pocket, Ingo pulls his brother’s notebook from the leather satchel he procured to try and protect it from the elements. Despite his best efforts, however, the pages are already becoming warped and filthy from the damp conditions and constant handling.

As delicately as he can, Ingo flips through the pages, searching for something he had seen during a previous examination, and… ah, there.

It’s not a perfect replica—Emmet, for all his attention to detail, has apparently never seen fit to hone the delicate hand needed for artistry—but it is close enough that Ingo can tell that this is a sketch of the selfsame sigil that stares at him from atop that bizarre, lopsided structure.

Has Emmet been there? Or has he simply seen this mark elsewhere, and recorded it for future reference?

...Is he there now?

Ingo scans the rest of the page in case there are further clues, but he knows better by now than to get his hopes up. Indeed, the only writing that seems to pertain specifically to that mark is a single word in Emmet’s even writing:

‘Pale’

He stoppers the groan before it can leave his chest, and instead pinches the bridge of his nose.

Inscrutable as always, brother.

(“I took these notes for myself,” Emmet had said once upon a time, years and forever ago. “They do not need more detail. I know what they mean.”

Ingo had draped himself partway over the edge of his bed, putting his head level with his brother’s. Emmet himself had his back propped against the foot of the bed, and leaned back enough to meet his eyes.

They had been nothing more than schoolchildren discussing their studies, not aware of the tragedies looming in their near future, and Ingo had taken flipping through Emmet’s school notes while Emmet played with Litwick.

“I know, Emmet,” Ingo had sighed, allowing Tynamo to gently press against his cheek. The offered comfort was appreciated, even if the uncontrolled static would wind up making his hair stand on end again. “I was simply hoping that your notes might elucidate the subject better than our instructor, is all.”

Emmet took the book from his brother, but didn’t put it away. Instead, he opened it to his notes from the lesson earlier that day and holds it up so they both could see.

“So show me what you do not know,” he said, grinning. “I will help you understand. Because we are--”)

“--a two-car train,” Ingo murmurs.

In the present, Ingo blinks away the memory and shakes his head. Disorienting as they are, he’s starting to get used to these flashbacks. He’s still on the fence as to whether that’s a good thing or not.

(It’s normal to forget portions of your childhood as you age. The way the human brain develops makes it inevitable. This world, bordering dreams and reality, just seem to draw those forgotten things out.

...So why does it still feel like he’s missing too much?)

Exhaling slowly from his nose, he takes a moment to recenter himself. Inscrutable or not, the emblem on that tower is the closest thing he has to a clue at this juncture, and he means to pursue it.

Which means he must reroute until he finds the line that will take him there.

--

The stairs groan and creak ominously with every step downward.

There are no lights in the stairwell; no candles, no lamps, and certainly no light bulbs (though the small boathouse is so old and unmaintained that Ingo doubts any of the wiring would have survived anyhow). The gloom is suffocating; the darkness almost a solid thing, boring down on him.

Ingo is grateful, then, for the lantern he found earlier today. Rusted and damaged it may be, the lilac flame flickering inside the faded bulb remind him that he is not alone here. Even if his trusted Lampent can’t physically follow him through the doorways leading to this world, the pale light she granted still continues to guide him.

Water suddenly trickles down from the ceiling, and he jerks the lantern away from it.

...Still, strong as she is, Lampent can’t keep a damp wick lit. Even in this odd dreamworld, that law of physics remains intact.

They’ve learned that the hard way already.

Bringing the lantern closer to himself, he continues his trek down.

In any other circumstance, Ingo is sure that would not be here. He would have taken one look at the rickety, broken-down stone-and-wood boathouse, with it’s unserviced motorboat and the crooked, oddly-placed basement door, and he surely would have turned around and gone home. It spits in the face of every safety standard he’s ever held himself to.

Nothing in this world is safe. Hostile creatures—neither human nor Pokemon, but something altogether alien—stalk him at every turn. The architecture is incomprehensible and prone to unexpected failure. Every time Ingo feels he can relax, something terrible springs from the shadows, claws aimed for his throat.

But Emmet is here, somewhere. His notes, otherwise sparse or filled with shorthand Ingo cannot understand, are meticulously dated. And they indicate that he has been coming to and from this world for nearly a year.

(Ingo never knew. Emmet never mentioned it. There was never even a hint in the letters he sent, until the one that incited Ingo’s sudden visit.

Did he think Ingo wouldn’t have believed him?)

(Would Ingo have believed him?)

A stair creaks sharply in protest, and he startles so badly that he almost loses balance.

Focus. This is no place to get lost in thoughts.

Any questions he has can be saved for if—for when he finds Emmet and convinces him to leave this wretched place.

And to do that, he needs to get the boat operational.

And for that, he needs gasoline.

Or an oar, at least.

The basement should hold something of use.

--

After five minutes of descent, Ingo decides it might be better to simply try and steer the boat with a large branch or something. He turns around and begins to climb up the way he came.

--

After ten minutes of ascent, Ingo’s lungs start to burn. The stale air here is near-suffocating.

He is not going to reach the top, it seems. Not yet, at any rate.

He tamps down the anxiety bubbling in his chest, turns around, and descends again.

The stairs creak and groan.

--

After an unknown amount of time descending, Ingo’s mind starts to wander.

Whatever could Emmet want in this wretched place? Ingo knows better than to assume that his brother is able to move easily through this world; though he had fewer scrapes and bruises than Ingo surely sports, there were plenty enough the last time they’d met to indicate that Emmet hasn’t exactly been waltzing through unhindered.

But every time Ingo tried reason with him, it was the same:

“Go home, Ingo.”

“Everything will be fine, Ingo.”

“Hurry and go home.”

“I have to do something first. And then I will write you. Okay? So you can leave. I will see you later.”

But even if his memories have faded, rusted away, Ingo can still tell when his brother is lying to him.

Ingo had begged, demanded, pleaded for Emmet to just speak to him. Let him help, if nothing else, so they can go home together.

And Emmet had hesitated, long enough that Ingo started to think that he had finally talked sense into his wayward twin.

But instead he had turned away. “It is better that you do not know,” he had said, so softly that Ingo could barely hear him.

He had looked exhausted, bone-weary. Like he’d lived a thousand lives in the decade they’d been apart.

And that…

(“Sometimes,” Mother’s voice sounds tired, heavy, “not knowing is better.”

He remembers, suddenly, sitting one the large old couch in the drawing room with Mother and Emmet; Ingo cuddled up to her left side, Emmet leaning against her right.

It had been a stormy summer day, the rain splattering loudly against the windows and the wind howling like a thing bereaved, but Ingo paid it little mind. He was simply thrilled that his mother was not only in high enough spirits to entertain them, but had sought them out for play multiple times that week.

Perhaps, he thought, this meant that Mother’s health was improving! She had promised ages ago that she would take him and Emmet on a train to see the countryside someday, but her weak heart kept her housebound anymore. The only time she left the house these days was to see some doctor or another. It must have been very dull for her, but she never complained. At least, never in earshot of the twins.

Looking back on it in the present, Ingo will also recall the way she would furtively glance at the doors and windows and sometimes speak in hushed voices, as if she feared being caught doing something bad and getting reprimanded.

By who, Ingo could not guess. Father had been away on business for much of the month, and was not due to return for another week. Though there was a nurse who stopped by to help Mother with her medicine, it was only for a half-hour during the morning. For much of the day, the three of them and their were alone in the house.

Certainly, it was only the three of them.

There were creaking floorboards and doors that opened by themselves, inexplicable chills and strange whispering noises from just outside the door; but it was just the old house settling. Father said It had been in his family for generations, and thus wear and tear is only natural.

And when one feels eyes watching unseen, or an ice-cold hand gripping one’s shoulder when there was no one else around, well, it was only childish imagination running wild. One must be mature about these things, Ingo.

Certainly.

At Mother’s words, both Ingo and Emmet had frowned.

“… I do not understand, Mother,” Ingo had said. “In what situation would having less knowledge be beneficial? That sounds counterproductive.”

Across Mother’s lap, Emmet nodded emphatically.

From what little he remembers of their childhood, Ingo knows that both he and Emmet had been what one might describe as precocious. No problem can remain unsolved if one used proper application of strategy, and the twins excelled at sussing out and utilizing all knowledge at their disposal for creative problem solving. Though there had been times where Father or their instructors became irritated with where their wits took them, their intelligence had always been highly praised.

It seemed odd for an adult to advocate for less education.

Mother herself seemed to tense for a moment, before plastering on her practiced smile.

“Well…” she said slowly, “sometimes things are—scary. Or sad.” She hesitates, as if struggling to articulate her thoughts. “Or… perhaps, too much. Too—big.”

Her hand combed through Ingo’s hair, working out the tangles, and Ingo almost wanted to stop discussing this. To just quietly agree and move on to talk about better things, like the books he and Emmet got for their birthday, or the Cottonee they had found in the garden earlier that week.

But it sat wrong with Ingo. A look over at Emmet, with his furrowed brow, told him that his twin felt the same.

Mother seemed to realize this. With a sigh, she leaned backward, bringing the twins with her.

“You’re right, Deerling,” she said slowly. “Most of the time, it’s good to study up and be smart about things. But…”

She started scratching lightly at Emmet’s head as she thought, and he relaxed further in her hold.

“… Sometimes, things just aren’t our business,” she settles on. “Sometimes… looking too hard at something will—will make it know you’re there. Looking at it.” She failed to suppress a shudder. “And then it will…” her voice becomes a haunted whisper, “it will start looking at you. And then it won’t ever stop.”

Ingo’s voice wavered in his attempt to match her low tone, “Do you mean… something bad?”

She tightens her hold on the twins. “Something dangerous,” she hissed.

And he didn’t understand. Father had said that Mother sometimes got dreams and reality confused, but she sounded so certain of what she ways saying. More certain than anyone had ever been of anything.

Ingo glanced again over at Emmet. His brother seemed to be thinking very hard.

After another heavy silence, Mother spoke again. “That’s why you need to be careful, okay? Our family… It’s easier for us to—to see dangerous things. And to be seen by them.”

She sat up, tapping her boys cheeks to make sure they are looking at her. Her face was like stone.

“So promise Mama, okay? Promise me that if you—if you see something that feels dangerous and scary,” her hands start to tremble, “promise me that you’ll close your eyes. Don’t look.” She grips their shoulders. “Whatever happens, just walk away and don’t think about it. Okay?”

And her gaze was heavy, and it felt like this was the most important promise he’d ever make to her, so he nodded. “I promise, Mother,” he said, voice barely audible for once.

She nods in approval, and turns her stony gaze to her youngest. “Emmet?”

Emmet hesitated.

She shook his shoulder. “Emmet,” she said, her voice low; and in that moment she was almost scarier than their Uncle’s dragons.

After a few long, tense moments, Emmet looked up at mother.

He said: “But why?”)

----

Ingo misses the next step.

Falls.

He curls up, trying to protect his head and neck with his unoccupied arm. Tries to get his legs under him, tries to break his fall—this stairwell has already gone on endlessly, the longer he falls the more at risk he is of further injury, he can’t—

He hits the water at the bottom with a splash.

For a split second, he panics, only barely able to keep himself from gasping in the stale, stagnant water covering his head. He holds the lantern above him, can’t let her go out, he can’t function in the pitch-black nothing of this pit alone without a light--

And then he pushes himself up, sitting in a soaked heap in a pool of water less than two feet deep.

But why, but why, but why? What could be worse than this? Than not knowing?

Floundering in the dark, with a light that struggles to shine more than a few feet ahead, violence and cruelty biting his heels at all times.

His heart is pounding, beating at his eardrums as he trembles and shakes with force from the ice still rushing through his veins. His arm still stiffly holds the lantern above his head because he cannot risk losing her light to the dirty water surrounding him.

It’s better not to know, they say, but all Ingo wants is to know, why? What did mother see? What does Emmet know?

The still silence of the room he landed in is broken by small splashes of water and ragged gasps that Ingo cannot control.

What makes Emmet so afraid that he cannot bear to even imagine sharing his burden with his own twin? The one who was once his closest friend, his most trusted confidant? What could be so terrible?

What is he missing--?

A dozen steps up the stairway behind him, the stairs groan and creak.

Ingo freezes. Holds his breath. Listens.

Footsteps, so delicate and light that they are almost drowned out by the protesting wood, are getting closer. A fluttering buzz, like an insect’s wings, drift down from the dark.

Those are not the even, measured steps of his brother. They are not the calculated, cautious steps of the detective that accompanied him here.

Ingo stands, slowly, holding his lantern toward the stairs. It rattles with the force of his shaking.

He knows those steps.

He does not know those steps.

But he knows them. He knows them, and he needs to go, to go, to go, before--

Just outside the range of the lantern, a shadow flickers in the stairwell.

And Ingo suddenly believes that, if he stays, if he waits for that entity reach the landing, he can know.

He can know what it was that crushed his mother under it’s weight until she could live with it no longer. He can know what it is that changed his brother so drastically after her death, that wore him down to the thin specter that greeted him in that dismal study just this morning.

But what would it cost?

A small polished shoe breaches the light. The buzzing vibrates against his eardrums.

(He needs to find Emmet. Nothing else matters.)

Ingo stumbles backwards, the water hindering his movement, before turning and running the opposite direction.

He has no way of quantifying the amount of time he spends running other than the burning of his lungs and the weakness of his legs, but some indeterminable time later, he bursts through a door and is immediately blinded by a searing light.

It catches him off guard, and he trips, scraping his hand and knees against wet stones and sand. The lantern clatters against the ground.

He has the presence of mind, still, to reach behind him and slam the door closed. Scooting back until his back is pressed against it, holding it shut, he tries utilize his hearing while his eyes adjust.

Running water. Wind blowing and rustling… leaves?

Ingo blinks his eyes open.

Though he has no memory climbing any stairs in his mad escape, he has somehow made it back to surface level. He is sitting next to the river that started this whole mess.

Across the river from where he sits stands a rickety stone-and-wood boathouse, an unmaintained motor boat tied to it’s dock.

Behind the small shack he rests against, there is a thick and uninviting forest.

And, less than a mile deep into those woods… a marble and gold tower looms over the treeline, bearing a familiar emblem.

… One small blessing, at least: he won’t have to put his faith in that rotted little boat.

Still breathing heavy, Ingo slumps against the door and covers his eyes.

A brief layover. That’s all he needs. Just… a few moments.

Then it will be time to depart once again.

[dtaegis]

there's something i've been thinking about since i came home. i'm feeling empty about that guy

[gayamulet]

Rewatching Farscape and remembering, oh yeah, I actually really dig this weird ass dynamic, every April

[nazumichi]

they weren’t lying, that dis sure can connect.

[manwithoutaspleen]

I’m sorry but some days you come home and you just have to smoke weed and play Skyrim.

[e77y]

[brokenmenswhore]

first | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders (james, remus, & sirius) x fem!reader

summary: virginity loss trope :)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), language, gender swapped dorcas cus i said so 🤷🏻‍♀️

────── ☾ ──────

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, body halting as the staircase began to shift beneath you, “and completely untrue.”

“Oh come on, you never do anything interesting! For your sake, it has to be true,” Sirius teased.

You turned to him, mouth open in offense. “I’m plenty interesting.”

“But not interesting enough to lose your virginity to Meadowes in the library during fourth year?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“No! It didn’t happen!” you protested, “now please, let it go.”

“How would a rumor like that even get out if it isn’t true?” James asked genuinely.

“Probably because everyone knows Meadowes has the hots for her. Bet you he started it himself,” Remus answered, distaste evident in his voice.

“Are you three done now?” you asked, whispering the common room password and letting the boys in.

“So if it isn’t true, how did you lose it?” Sirius pressed.

You looked at him stunned, eyes wide in disbelief that he would ask you something like that out of the blue.

“Absolutely not,” you said, raising a finger toward him, “I’m not playing that game.”

“Oh come on!” Sirius raised his hands and smiled, “you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, now I’m curious,” James continued on, “if not Dorcas, who?”

You sighed, placing your books down and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, turning toward them exasperated. “Why does it matter?”

“You know seventeen of the girls I’ve slept with by heart,” Sirius replied, “I’d say it’s only fair.”

“Sirius, you told me about seventeen of the girls you’ve slept with. Willingly. Without me asking. Ever,” you said, earning a laugh from James at your disgust.

They followed you up the stairs to your dorm, empty from everyone sneaking off to a party in the Ravenclaw common room that you were supposed to be getting ready for, but alas, you were late and distracted.

You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, ready to start applying makeup, when Remus placed a hand on the desk in front of you, leaning his face in close to you, his hair falling slightly in front of his face. He was completely in your personal space.

“Come on, Y/N, tell us who got to fuck you first.”

Remus’ voice was low, and his breath fanned your face as he spoke. You locked eyes with him, a sigh leaving your chest that you weren’t aware you were holding in. You were nervous to have him this close.

“No one has. Sorry to disappoint. Now drop it, will you?”

Remus didn’t move. You continued to look up into his eyes, your voice a little shaky, and you didn’t know what to do. You moved to get up, but Remus caught your chin between his fingers, pulling your attention back to him. “Meaning what?”

“Did you not hear me? Cus you’re like 6 inches away from me, so if you didn’t, you need to get your hearing checked,” you said, annoyed at your current predicament, just wanting to make the embarrassing conversation end. Remus finally let you stand, but Sirius and James were right behind you, stopping you from leaving the room. You opted to sit on your bed.

“You guys are insufferable.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “So you’re-“ he trailed off.

“A virgin, yes, wow, how crazy of me. You know, it’s not that weird, you all just have a personal body count higher than everyone at this school combined. And everyone else’s body count includes you. Can we please just forget about this?” you begged.

“Such attitude,” James teased, “from such a good girl.”

“Oh, so I’m a goodie two-shoes now that you’ve all discovered I’ve never had sex?”

“Kinda, yeah,” James giggled.

“Fuck you guys,” you sighed, partially lighthearted and partially annoyed, “it was my choice. You think I couldn’t have screwed Dorcas Meadowes in the library if I wanted to?”

No one had a response. Sirius’ nostrils flared, and Remus sighed. They almost seemed… jealous? at the thought of you and someone else.

You four were ridiculously close, anyone could see that, and you would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about them in that way, but you were best friends, and you didn’t want to risk ruining that.

“You ever think about, like, just doing it?” Sirius asked.

“What?” you replied.

“Do you ever think about just saying fuck it and asking someone, like, I don’t know, one of us, to just take your virginity?”

Your breathing caught in your chest. You stared at Sirius, a million thoughts coming to your head but you couldn’t articulate any of them. You had no idea what to say.

“I mean, I’ve thought about losing my virginity, yeah, that’s normal,” you explained.

“To one of us?” Remus asked.

You could lie. You could act disgusted at the question and walk away now, or, you could tell the truth, and risk ruining your entire friendship. You could also tell the truth and potentially gain everything you wanted.

Your voice became small, your eyes watching your hands fidget in your lap, “maybe.”

The boys all exchanged a look between one another.

James was the only one who was able to pull himself together. “W-who?”

You titled your head up at him. “What?”

James sat down on the bed next to you. “Which one of us?”

You could physically see all the boys tense up, ready to be filled with either pride or jealousy. Sirius and Remus were staring daggers at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. James kept his eyes on you as well, trying to make you feel less intimidated and tense than Sirius and Remus were.

Your eyes darted between all of them, “I-“

You were evidently nervous, and Remus felt bad. He knelt on the ground in front of you, taking your hands in his own. It was the most intimate gesture you’d received from him yet. He kept his voice soft. “Angel, you don’t have to tell us, but we really want to know. I promise none of us will be too hurt. Please,” he almost begged.

You sighed. You weren’t worried because you only thought about one of them, you were worried because you were embarrassed to tell them the truth. You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “All of you.”

They were not prepared for that answer.

Remus and James stared at you and tried to process your words. Sirius was more of an “act on impulse” and “speak without thinking” kind of guy.

“Fuck off,” he said, “all of us?”

“Mhm.”

“Like at the same time?” he pushed.

“Sirius-“ Remus warned.

“No, no, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, attention back on you, “I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about losing your virginity to all three of us. At the same time. I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about us fucking you.” He was standing dangerously close to you now.

“I- I have,” you said, blush evident in your cheeks.

Sirius growled. “Remus, move.”

“Excuse me?” Remus snapped back.

“Move.”

Remus sighed and moved out of the way so that Sirius was standing directly in front of you. “You stop us if there’s anything you don’t like. Understood?”

You nodded your head, but that wasn’t enough.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you retried.

Sirius gave you a small smile before grabbing your face in his hands, tilting your head up and leaning down to give you a long, intimate kiss. Once you had settled in, he deepened the kiss, his carnal desires taking over. He slowly leaned you back on the bed, your legs still hanging off the mattress, as he placed one knee next to your waist, holding himself up as he continued kissing you. When your back hit the mattress, you held the back of Sirius’s head to keep him in place.

You felt one of the boys behind Sirius, pulling your pants off and leaving your lower half nearly exposed.

Sirius flopped down on the bed next to you, still kissing you as you ran your fingers through his hair.

James slowly kissed up your thigh, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders as he kissed your underwear right above your heat. You gasped, but Sirius didn’t let you break the kiss.

“Sirius, come on, give her a break,” James pleaded, “I wanna hear her.”

Sirius groaned into the kiss before breaking it, looking down to James in between your legs. “Well, go on then.”

Sirius was still feral and needy, pulling your shirt over your head and ripping off your bra, immediately going to grab and kiss at your breasts. You were embarrassed at the exposure, but everyone was moving on your body so fast that you didn’t have time to think about your body being on display.

James pushed your underwear to the side and kissed your folds, causing you to squeal. This was an unfamiliar feeling, but you were growing wetter and wetter by the minute. He pushed your folds open with his tongue, licking and flicking at your clit. You whined and threw your head back. He continued his actions, peeking up at you from between your legs, watching you come apart as he ate you out like a man starved.

“Take it easy,” you heard Remus say from behind your head, “you gotta remember she’s never done this.”

James moaned into your cunt as a response, sending a shiver up your body, causing your legs to shake slightly. He kept sucking and licking circles around your bud, and you couldn’t help but grab the hair at the back of his head, pushing him closer into you.

“Good girl,” Sirius cooed from beside you, touching every exposed part of your body that he could.

As James’ tongue quickened, your whines grew louder, but you tried to tame them and save yourself further embarrassment. Remus noticed and was not happy. He grabbed your face and forced your neck to look backward at him. “Are you holding back?”

“N-no,” you said anxiously, not sure if it was the truth.

“Ah, but I think you are,” he started, “and we don’t accept that. Let us hear you.”

“But I’m emb-“

“I don’t care if you’re embarrassed. Stop holding back. Now.”

Remus’s demanding and controlling demeanor only added at the pleasure James was giving you with his mouth. You did as he said. James continued to quicken his pace, whines and moans falling from your lips.

“Does that feel good?” Remus asked.

“Yes, Rem, I-“

“No fair!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, “if you ask her all the questions, you get to hear her moan your name. Selfish prick.”

“Are you gonna let this be about her or what?” Remus retorted.

“I am! I should be asking you the same thing, why do you always get to be in control of everything?”

They bickered back and forth for a few minutes, but the entire time, James remained focused on you. He watched from between your legs as his tongue made you squirm and moan, and he had you nearly seeing stars.

You desperately tried to tell him you were going to come, but Remus and Sirius were too busy bickering for James to hear you. You tapped at his head to signal him, and he got the message, sucking at your bud until you finally came. Your chest rapidly rose and fell as James continued to lick you until he had tasted every last drop of cum from your hole, standing up and placing a wet kiss on your lips.

“What, did you just give up?” Sirius asked when he saw James standing.

“No, idiot, she came,” James replied, “you two dickheads were too busy arguing to notice.”

Remus’s nostrils flared. “You just let us keep arguing?”

“She tried to say something!” James defended you, and partly himself.

“Baby, you ok?” Remus checked in.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“You got a little more in you?”

“Mhm.”

“You want me?”

“Mhm.”

Remus pulled his pants and boxers down and climbed on top of you, pulling your underwear completely off of you as he placed his knees on either side of your waist.

“You sure?” he asked, wanting to confirm your consent.

“Yes,” you responded.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with it being me?”

Instead of responding with words, you tilted your head up and kissed Remus, assuring him that you wanted it to be him. You would have been okay with any of the boys, but Remus was always so in control, it made sense that he would be your first. Your relationship with him was always a little less silly, and a little more intimate, than your relationship with the other two.

“Are you ready?” he checked, lining up his already hard cock at your entrance.

“Yeah,” you replied, “just- please be nice, okay?”

Remus smiled, “of course, baby.”

You nodded at him and locked eyes as he slowly pushed into you, a long gasp leaving your lips as he filled you up. His cock was bigger than you thought it would be, and it was taking you a while to adjust to his size.

“Shit, Rem,” you breathed out, “you should have warned me that you’re that fucking big.”

Sirius growled next to you, your words driving him crazy. He couldn’t help but pull out his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched you.

Remus gave you plenty of time to adjust before you nodded at him, signaling that he could move. He started slowly, pushing in and out of you as an excruciatingly slow pace. It burned, and you almost told Remus to stop, but after a few minutes, the pain subsided, and the pleasure took over.

A particularly filthy moan left your lips, and Sirius cursed under his breath. James appeared behind your head, stroking your hair as Remus’s head dropped to your shoulder as he began to pick up the pace.

“Shit, baby,” he moaned, “you feel so fucking good.”

“You look so fucking good,” Sirius breathed.

“Thank you, Siri,” you cried out, causing Sirius to cum in his hand, the nickname making him lose all control.

“What a good girl,” Remus spoke, his thrusts quickening until he was causing your body to jolt upward with each hit from the force, “you’re doing so well.”

James placed a kiss on your forehead and you reached up to grab his hand for leverage. You squeezed his hand, the pleasure between your legs becoming almost too much.

“Relax, baby, you’re being such a good girl,” James said.

Remus’ breathing quickened. “You’re so tight, angel, if you keep squeezing my cock like that I’m not gonna last,” he warned.

“I c-can’t help it,” you told him.

“I know baby,” he replied.

“I d- don’t know how to m- make it stop,” you said.

Remus giggled, “you don’t have to make it stop. It feels good for me.”

“Oh,” you whimpered, “that’s good.”

Remus giggled again. You were so cute, even in the middle of losing your virginity. Remus leaned down and kissed you, your lips moving in harmony as he began to pound into you. Any sense of kindness and mercy he had for this being your first time went out the window when you kissed.

Your moans grew louder and louder, and you tried to cover your mouth with your hand to quiet yourself down.

“Ah ah ah,” Sirius tsked, pulling your hand away, “none of that.”

“Rem- Rem- I-“

“I know angel, let go.”

Your high crashed over you again, your hips bucking upward to meet Remus’ final few thrusts before he came inside of you, the feeling of you squeezing him becoming too much for him to hold on. Remus stayed inside of you for a moment, watching your face as you calmed down from your high, a slight shake in your legs.

“What a good girl,” James praised, kissing your forehead.

“You okay?” Remus checked in, pulling out of you and standing in front of you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “‘m okay.”

Sirius leaned down to kiss you again. “Everything you imagined?”

“Mhm.” You were too tired to formulate complete words or sentences.

“You wanna skip the party?” Sirius continued.

“Mhm.”

“You wanna cuddle and watch a movie?”

“Mhm.” You shifted so your head was resting on Sirius’ lap as he began to stroke your hair.

Sirius smiled. “And then maybe round two.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Bimbo!Reader who's convinced Pushover!Konig is just a big teddy bear of a giant

He literally beat up a guy who tried to hit on you, and you were fussing over him, ruining that pretty shirt you helped him choose. Konig has no sense of style or tact, and he is very sensitive to criticism - but this is where your inner critic is shutting up, and you just fuss over him like he is just an overgrown baby.

Konig feels like your fussing over him is a bit embarrassing and generally a humiliating process, but he doesn't care - not as long as he can feel your hands on his face when you're wiping away the blood. You're adorable, fucking precious, and he can't wait to ruin you - just as soon as you'd stop being so dense about his hints...but you won't stop, and he finds himself in a weirdly wholesome relationship. It might be that you're just too dumb to see the signs, but he kinda likes your immunity to red flags - and besides, he is smart for the both of you...and likes being cared for too much. You drag him over to your favorite cafe, and he forces himself to stop thinking about fingering you under the table. You would probably allow him, especially while you're wearing a skirt that barely covers your ass and your cleavage is deeper than the knife wounds he used to inflict on his opponents, but he is far too nervous for this. Doesn't want to appear weird, even as you scoot closer to him and ask what he thinks about the necklace you bought with the money he gave you. He stares at the little space orb settled perfectly on your tits. He gulps. Konig probably needs to stop excusing himself in the middle of your dates to jerk off in a public bathroom, but the other possibility would be fucking you senselessly and making you even dumber than you already are...and it's not really an option. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but he allows you to sleep on his chest when you're too tired to go home after a movie night, and then he'd massage your tits for the rest of the evening. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but it's easier for him to snatch your panties and use them for masturbation than actually asking you to fuck him. The worst thing is - you trust him. You look at him with your precious shining eyes, and you act like he isn't a fucking war criminal who can snap your neck in a second. You give him too much power, trusting him so blindly - he knows he is going to snap one day. Like a rope slowly untangling from its threads. Like a metal cable that is going to escape your arms and cut through the soft skin of your palms.

[appocalipse]

MAKE IT EASY : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON

・❥・part 1・part 2 ❥・3.8k words

Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?

requested by my beloved @stevebabey 🥺

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble, and now, oh well...I had to split it into two parts. here we go.

・❥・

It was the epitome of a terrible idea.

And it had started that day. 

The very moment Steve walked into the diner your family owned, you knew something was wrong. Not that it was uncommon for Steve to visit you at work — not at all. In fact, it was almost a weekly occurrence, the highlight of it, in fact, for you; the odd part was that Steve never showed up alone, without at least a few of the kids. On that Wednesday night, he was not only alone but also strangely nervous.

You rarely saw Steve get nervous. His confidence was as much a part of him as his signature perfect hair. But tonight, his hands fidgeted with the edge of his jacket, eyes darting around the diner as if searching for an escape route. He looked like he was trying to convince himself to leave.

Weird.

"Steve," you greeted him with a warm smile, hoping to ease his obvious tension a little bit as he approached the counter. "You look like you've seen a Demogorgon."

It was supposed to be a joke. You only felt comfortable saying that now because — luckily — things had been quiet at Hawkins. It had been a long time since you and your friends had to deal with one. But something about Steve's demeanor really made you wonder if there was more to this visit than just a friendly catch-up.

He tried for a convincing chuckle, but it came out tinged with a hint of sadness instead. "I wish," he said, and then quickly shook his head, "Actually no, of course not. I kinda…There's something I wanted to-"

You furrowed your brows, concern knitting your features together. At this point, Steve's tension seemed to be rubbing off on you.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, just…can we talk?"

"Of course."

He glanced around the diner, gaze briefly flitting over the empty tables and the neon glow of the jukebox. "Not here," he murmured, voice barely audible above the din of conversation and clinking dishes. It was a busy night, despite being Wednesday. "Can you, like, take a break?"

For Steve, of course you could.

Curiosity mingled with concern, and you followed his lead, stepping out into the cool night air. The streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting elongated shadows that danced upon the pavement. You leaned against the side of the building, your eyes fixed on Steve, awaiting an explanation for his beyond unusual behavior.

He raked his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit that seemed magnified in this moment. "Look," he began, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you hadn't heard before, "I need a favor- a big one."

Oh, Jesus. "Steve," you placed a hand over your chest, breathing a sigh of relief. "For a moment there I thought you were going to say something terrible. A favor? C'mon, sure. What do you want me to do?"

Steve's eyes met yours, his gaze earnest and…vulnerable?

"I... I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend... Just for one night!" he quickly added, like he was afraid you might misinterpret his request, say no even before he could finish… but no, of course you wouldn't. Far from it. 

Who wouldn't want to date Steve Harrington?

"But why would you-"

"My parents," Steve interjected, tone deeply tinged with unease, "they're in town."

"Oh." Steve rarely ever spoke about his parents, and their mere presence seemed to have stirred a sense of apprehension within him. "Are they still... difficult?" 

You knew you were touching scars, deep scars. You made sure to be gentle.

Steve sighed, gaze fixed on the ground. 

"Yeah, you could say that," a hint of frustration colored his voice, as if he were carrying on his shoulders the weight of every little judgemental glare they had ever sent his way. "Nothing I do is ever enough for them. They've always been focused on money and success. To them, that's the measure of worth. And because I don't fit their mold of the perfect, ambitious son, they treat me like…well, you know how they treat me."

Indeed, you knew.

Steve looked like he didn't know you were unable to say no to him.

And that's how you put yourself into one hell of a mess.

+

It's Saturday night and you're standing in front of the mirror, desperately trying to zip up your stupid dress. Why anyone would put a zipper in the back of a dress, in the most difficult possible place for a person to reach on their own, is something you are unable to fathom.

But then again, maybe you're the stupid one in this story, you think bitterly, since it was you who chose the dress with the zipper in the back in the first place.   

Why are you trying so hard, though?

"I'm not," you tell yourself out loud, stubbornly.

There is a big pile of discarded clothes on your bed that says otherwise.  

With a feeling akin to fear bubbling in your stomach, you glance at the clock. It's almost seven. For fuck's sake. 

You're late. 

Steve will arrive soon, and you are apparently unable to close the damn zipper of your own dress, no matter in which awkward positions you try twisting yourself into…you just can't reach it.

The doorbell rings.

The world is truly a dark place, isn't it?      

You freeze. It can only be Steve. Shit, shit, shit! For a moment, you consider the idea of simply not opening the door, turning off the lights and pretending you never agreed to take part in this madness that is dining with the Harringtons.

HA! As if you'd really be able to turn your back on Steve. 

You take a deep breath, accepting the battle you just lost, and decide that your only and best option is to simply open the door and ask Steve for help — mortified or not. With no choice but to leave the dress with the zipper still open and your back somewhat exposed, you quickly walk to the door to open it.

"Sorry, I'm late," you say, a little out of breath. "I had a little problem with the dress and I... flowers?"   

Flowers, for sure. Steve holds a beautiful bouquet of red roses. He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes run over the partly open dress and your exposed skin for a couple of seconds too long to be accidental. You swallow thickly.

"Yeah I..." he shakes his head, a little uncomfortable standing there, and then his eyes meet yours. "The flowers are for you. Do you want me to...?" he mimics the motion of closing a zipper.

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but there is no choice but to accept. You look at him, a mix of gratitude and nervousness in your eyes.  

"Yeah, that would be great," you reply, stumbling over the words. 

If he notices, he doesn't say anything.  

Steve comes closer and hands you the bouquet, your fingers briefly touching his. You catch a whiff of his cologne — citrusy fruit and wood notes — as you turn around, brushing your hair away from your neck.    

For a moment, Steve does nothing, and you wonder if he is just figuring out the best way to close the zipper…or something else entirely. 

His touch ghosts down your bare back before his hand finally, finally finds the zipper. Slowly, he pulls it up, inch by inch, and you hold your breath for a moment, lost in a feeling your best friend is definitely not supposed to evoke in you. You feel the dress tighten, fabric adjusting to your body, his fingers inevitably brushing your skin and sending unexpected tingles up your spine. You try to ignore the trail of electricity left by the tip of his fingers as you turn to face him, eyes finding his.

"There you go", he murmurs, taking his hands off you and taking a small step back. "You look very... girlfriend."  

You laugh.   

"Thank you", you say softly, your heart beating faster. "You also look very boyfriend."

A small smile plays on Steve's lips, a flush creeping up his cheeks. Or maybe it's just the cold night breeze coming through the open door...   

Steve's gaze drifts to your lips and lingers there for way too long to be accidental. He is so close that he starts crushing the bouquet between the two of you…

Something clicks inside of you. Common sense, perhaps.

"Thank you... for the flowers."

The spell breaks; he moves away so fast that you almost drop the flowers on the floor.   

"Yeah, uh, no problem," he says quickly, regaining his composure. "Ready to go?"

Disappointment stabs at you, but you try to hide it. Maybe you imagined too much, read signs where there were none.  

"Sure. I'll just put the flowers in a vase."

It's an excuse to catch your breath. You walk to the kitchen, put water in the first clean container you find and put the flowers in it. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Your heart is racing and yet nothing has happened. It's just dinner, you tell yourself, I've had dinner with Steve and the others before. It's just dinner.   

So why did you try so hard to look beautiful? insists the other voice in your mind. You decide it's best not to answer.

"You okay?"  

Steve is at the kitchen door, all concern and soft brown eyes.  You must have taken too long.

"Yes, I'm fine," you reply, forcing a smile to calm your own anxiety. "I was just taking care of the flowers. Ready to go?"

Steve nods. A gentleman, he opens the car door for you to get in. It's a short drive to the Harrington house, and you take the opportunity to try to calm your nerves. Looking out the window, you watch the city lights blinking as you approach your destination.

You look at him. You have the impression that Steve is driving slightly slower than necessary.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, unsure.

Steve briefly glances at you before returning his attention to the road, looking so stiff you're under the impression he might break his back at any moment.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Why did you ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend? I mean, I understand the part about your parents…but why didn't you bring someone you're actually dating or something?"

There's a brief moment of silence before Steve responds, his voice a bit softer.

"Actually, I'm not really dating anyone at the moment," he admits. "And when my parents mentioned the dinner, I kind of panicked. I didn't want to show up alone and face more questions about my life, you know?"

"I know," you respond, understandingly. "And why did you choose me specifically?"

He looks away for a moment before answering.

"Because you're perfect," he says, finally looking back at you. Then quickly, as if he only just realized the words slipped out on their own, he adds, nervously staring back at the road, "I mean, my parents, they... you're perfect for them. They're going to love you."

You feel a mix of surprise, satisfaction, and confusion with Steve's response. You try not to read any deeper meaning behind the words, telling yourself not to notice how he quickly tries to disguise them.

"I see," you reply, although you don't really understand anything. Steve seems to say one thing when he means another. "Well, I hope I can do well. I mean, I'm not very convincing when I lie."

Steve smiles briefly and nods.

"I'm sure you'll be great. Just... be yourself."

You appreciate Steve's vote of confidence and focus on staying calm as the car approaches the Harringtons' house. Although there's still a lingering questioning in your mind about Steve's earlier response, you decide to set it aside for now and focus on the immediate task.

Steve parks the car, and you both step out together. Nervousness returns as you approach the front door. You exchange a quick glance with Steve, seeking mutual encouragement.

As you walk toward the house's entrance, Steve's hand finds yours. He gently squeezes it, and you're not sure if he's trying to convey or seek comfort himself. You don't mind anyway.

The door opens, revealing Steve's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. As you prepare to enter their house, they cast evaluative glances your way, as you had expected. Mrs. Harrington's smile seems a bit forced, while Mr. Harrington maintains a serious expression you can't even begin to try to read.

It's not like you expected anything different.

"Mom," says Steve in lieu of a greeting. "Dad."

"Steve, you finally made it," says Mrs. Harrington, her tone somehow a mix of relief and disapproval. "And this must be your... girlfriend."

Steve maintains his composure as he introduces you, although you can sense a slight tension in his shoulders. It's only when he says your last name that Steve's parents' gazes turn into something completely different, almost a scientific interest.

Hawkins is a small place. Your parents' business is respected enough in town.

All eyes turn to you, and you try not to show the insecurity you feel inside. Mr. Harrington studies you for a moment, his penetrating gaze seeming to assess your suitability for his son.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Mr. Harrington," he finally says, extending an unusually large hand for a formal greeting.

You shake his hand firmly, trying to convey a confidence you're not quite sure you feel. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Harrington. Thank you for the invitation."

Mrs. Harrington still seems a bit unsettled but composes herself as she invites you inside. You're making your way toward the dining room when you feel Steve's hand intertwine with yours again, and when your gaze meets his, he's smiling.

Thank you, he mouths.

You smile back.

During dinner, you make an effort to be as pleasant and interesting as you can possibly be in the eyes of Steve's parents, responding politely and trying to find points of common interest. In turn, Steve makes an effort to showcase his worth, defending his accomplishments, however small and sharing his plans for the future, painting an image of maturity that, you can tell by the look in his parents' eyes, they were not expecting.

Throughout the evening, you realize that although Steve's parents are demanding and neglectful in many aspects, they also seem to have their own insecurities and concerns. They want the best for Steve, even if their way of expressing it is at least…unusual.

As the night progresses, you find yourself navigating this strange family dynamic better and better, to the point where Steve's parents' attention is fully on you, and it doesn't even feel that uncomfortable anymore. You even laugh at one point.

By the end of the dinner, as you two prepare to leave, you notice a very similar expression of relief on the faces of Steve's parents. They seem to have found some kind of approval in the way you both behaved together during the evening.

As you say goodbye, Mr. Harrington extends his hand again, but this time, his handshake is warmer, less formal, and Mrs. Harrington's smile almost seems genuine. Almost.

"It was a pleasure having you here," she says. "You should bring her more often, Steve."

You and Steve exchange a look of surprise. Had you somehow managed to create a connection with his parents?

As you walk away from the Harringtons' house, Steve's hand finds yours for the third time that night, and an optimistic part of you registers the fact that there's no one else here to see. He gently squeezes it, his brown eyes filled with gratitude when they meet yours.

"You were amazing," he says, genuinely smiling.

In the car, during the ride back, you both talk animatedly about the night and his parents' reactions. The tension from dinner seems to have diminished, leaving you both more relaxed and confident.

When you arrive in front of your house, Steve turns off the car and gets out to accompany you to the front door, even after you— out of politeness, mind you — said it's really not necessary. 

"You know, I didn't expect everything to go so well tonight," says Steve, with a playful smile. "I can't believe I'm saying this about a dinner with my parents, but thanks to you, it was even fun."

You laugh. "I kinda had fun too. I think we did better than we thought possible."

"You're amazing," he says again, and this time his voice carries a softer, more intimate tone. His eyes meet yours, shining, and you see admiration there…maybe, you dare to think, something even deeper.

The silence grows tense. Your heart races. There's something special happening between you, you know there is; this goes beyond mere friendship or pretending to be a couple for one night…doesn't it?

Are you imagining this?

"Steve..."

You can't finish before he's leaning in slowly, and you're almost certain his eyes are fixed on your lips. For a feverish moment, you think Steve is going to kiss you.

He tilts his head last second. You feel the softness of his lips brushing against your cheek a moment later, a light and brief kiss, mouth almost uncertain against your warm skin….and then it's over.

Steve pulls back slowly. 

"Goodnight," he says, eyes soft, smile softer. "Thank you…for today."

"You're welcome."

It's only when you enter the house that the dress dilemma comes to mind. 

Well…shit.

The zipper at the back is still unreachable for you, and you can't undo it yourself unless you use scissors — which, considering the price you paid for it, you really don't want to do.

With few options and too much embarrassment, you decide to call Steve back while you still can.

"Steve?" you practically shout, your embarrassment immediately doubling. He's about to open the door of his trusted BMW when he turns to you, confused and unfairly handsome under the street light.

Suddenly using the scissors on the dress doesn't seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Well, too late.

"Could you, you know... " you ask, gesturing to the back of your dress, "help me with the zipper?"

His initial surprise quickly gives way to a nervous smile.

"Sure. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't help?"

"I'm sure that's one of the many job duties."

"Definitely. And I strive to be a top-notch fake boyfriend."

He steps in. With the door closed behind the two of you, the atmosphere takes on a sense of intimacy and anticipation.

"I really can't reach the zipper," you feel the need to explain, even more flustered by his silence.

"No problem," Steve says with that gentle tone that makes your heart do funny things inside your chest. "Turn around."

You turn so that he can reach the dress' zipper, and now you're facing the large oval mirror in the hallway, with Steve standing right behind you.

He reaches out gently, his fingers lightly brushing the back of your dress.

Breathe in. 

The temperature around you seems to rise a few degrees.

Breath out. 

You feel the gentle pressure of his fingers as he starts to slide the zipper down. He touches your skin and you tell yourself that this is inevitable, that he didn't mean to…but he lingers. Lingers just enough for you to tense up and let out a breathless sigh you certainly didn't intend to.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, his voice soft, filled with concern. You know he's looking at you through the mirror and that's precisely why you keep your gaze on the floor. "Are my fingers cold?"

"No, your fingers..." your voice sounds hoarse. You clear your throat. "...it's fine, I'm okay."

I'm great. I'm more than okay. Nothing out of the ordinary happening here.

However, when the zipper seems to momentarily get stuck — because of course  it had to — the two of you exchange equally panicked looks through the mirror, though perhaps for different reasons. An uncomfortable silence fills the air as Steve tries to fix the issue.

"I'm... it's just... sorry, it seems to be stuck."

There's a moment of awkward silence as he tries to figure out a way to open the zipper. You can feel the tension in the air as he struggles to handle the situation.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" you joke, desperately trying to ease the tension.

Steve lets out a low laugh, his warm breath gently caressing your neck.

"Absolutely," he replies, his voice slightly husky. Then, probably without so much as noticing, he adds, "I've taken off many dresses before."

Oh.

"Steve-"

Steve doesn't give up. With skilled fingers, he adjusts the position of the zipper and makes another attempt. It moves.

"We're almost there," he murmurs softly, his voice close to your ear.

Finally, with a smooth motion, the zipper gives way, sliding all the way down. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you turn around to face Steve, finding his eyes filled with excitement.

"I did it!"

His enthusiastic smile soon gives way to something else as he realizes how close — and technically partly undressed — you are.

And close you are, so very close. Close enough that you and Steve are somehow breathing the same air now.

Close enough, you realize, that a slight tilt of the head and...you'd be kissing.

Kissing.

Did he notice that too?

You hold your dress up over your chest to make sure it doesn't fall because, well…no matter how distracted you are, it's not enough that you'd risk a wardrobe malfunction that'll leave you standing there naked in front of Steve Harrington.

"...thanks," you manage a whisper, lips a hair's breadth away from his. You do know that Steve has no reason not to go now that dinner is over and everything went (surprisingly) well, but a part of you wonders if maybe…

Steve's hands hover around your waist as if unsure of what to do next. 

So close...

You hold still.

In that breathless silence, you're under the impression that Steve leans closer, even if just the slightest bit, maybe without even noticing. 

"Steve…" you slowly tilt your head to the side.

Steve's heart is pounding in his chest as he feels the warmth of your breath against his lips. Stop, he thinks. His eyes flutter closed, and Steve can't help but lean in just a little bit more. 

He raises his arm as if to touch you, wanting to touch you, to hold your face, to bring you closer…but he stops with one of his hands hovering near your cheek.

He pulls away with a gasp, his hands flying up to his face in shock. "I should-" he stammers. "I need to go."

Bam.

Door closed.

And just like that, he's out of the house before you can even open your eyes properly.

He just…pulled away. 

What the hell was that?

[jeongin-lvr]

cw. fingering, tutor/smart girl reader, fuckboy yeonjun who’s kinda mean

FUCKBOY YEONJUN and his sudden and very apparent obsession with you; the girl who always looks so pretty during lectures and in the halls around campus. he can’t help but find an intrigue in the way you walked, the way you answered questions in class with a little bit of a know-it-all tone, even how you swiped lip gloss across your lips. he’s sworn he’s never been this hot and bothered about someone before. so what else is he to do than pursue you? he wastes no time approaching you within a few days of noticing you, almost embarrassing himself as he attempts to fluster you— earn some kind of approval yet all he got was a simple stare and then a nod. like he was crazy, like he was the weird one. oh, and that hurt his precious ego a bit too hard.

so maybe he’ll approach you again but this time he’s asking for some tutoring lessons— something to boost his grade in the class, all the while you stare at him with those absent eyes, jaw widened in an almost “are you done” quirk upward. Yeonjun barely gets his proposition out before you’re questioning him, why suddenly? tutoring sessions in the middle of the semester? “are you gonna help me or not, sweetheart?” he watches the way your eyebrows scrunch and it almost sets him off again. but Yeonjun has a little more composure than he thought and simply waited for a response. “okay, fine,” he grinned, brain already twisting with the thoughts and ideas of what he wanted to do. he’s already got you in his clutches, he just needs to find some sort of bait to keep you inside.

He’s sitting beside you in the library, bored out of his mind as you try to teach him something about something, he doesn’t care much to focus. When you agreed to tutoring him he assumed it was because you were interested— little did he know you took things very literally, especially college. So he watched with vacant eyes as your pretty, well-manicured nails dragged along the paper, underlining every word he needed to know, every vocabulary he should have memorized by now. His mind playing the nastiest scenarios of you; thinking of ways he could get you, all the scenarios playing out in his mind like a movie. Until your fingers snap in front of his eyes, snapping him out of those lewd thoughts. Your eyes are stern and its like you know exactly what he’s thinking; the glare you hold almost having Yeonjun act up, he almost grabs your thigh, he realizes he could just proposition these thoughts, it’s on the tip of his tongue. “Pay attention, stupid.” Your words make him run his tongue along his teeth; really? Stupid?

So you go back to instructing him, acting all better and smarter than him, you wouldn’t mind if he ran his fingers up your thigh, right? His touch jolts you out of focus, so suddenly that you stammer over your words; that’s the first time he’s ever heard you stutter like that. Were you suddenly nervous? Yeonjun watched your expression, a once serious stare was now replaced with pink cheeks and scrunched eyebrows, trying to keep up that nonchalant attitude. But he could almost see your composure crack. The feigning sound of your authorstive voice melt into a soft mutter. His fingertips wandered even further, half-expecting you to push him off, but you never did. He abused this, flicking the hem of your skirt up to he could feel the plush fat of your thighs under his palms. “I’m paying very good attention, sweetheart.” Yeonjun’s voice is full of malice, his smirk apparent on his plush lips. It’s a whisper but this whisper is cocky and you hate it. “Keep reading.”

Keep reading? Keep reading— is he serious? He asked for your help and he’s demanding shit from you? How dare— you let out a swift, unstoppable whimper as his fingers push against your clothed pussy hard. He chuckles as he feels you tense up; drawing his fingers in circles around your entrance, stopped only by the cotton fabric of your pink panties. You turn your head to him and see that smirk on his face, it’s sick but only because you hate the smugness of it. He’s prideful that he finally got the girl who showed little to know interest in him. Did he really though? You remained as steady as you could but slowly your composure cracked… every word you spoke every line, every stupid paragraph you read caused your demeanor to slip.

“You’re stuttering a lot,” Yeonjun observed aloud, “You nervous?” The pads of his fingers grazed your clit, then again, “You’re not as smart as you think, babe.” You want to turn and tell him to back off but then feeling of his touch was too good to pass up. The rumors you’d heard about him— the rumors of him being a flirt, a playboy, a no good tramp. Those were all true. You’d sworn off any advances he’d ever made on you, and the intensity of it has boiled over the edge. He’s getting what he wanted and you weren’t inclined to stop him at this point. Besides, what’s the harm in a little fun?

“Read it again,” Yeonjun grits his teeth as he bends you over the table, skirt flipped up. The library was closed way beyond its usual hours. It’s dark and the only light is from the stupid little lamp at the table, illuminating over your features for only Yeonjun to see. “Again.” He stuffs himself into you so well it’s almost surreal. You shook your head and cried, “Can’t— Yeonjun, p-please!” He simply clicks his tongue and groans, holding your hips steady as he pulls himself back again, painfully slow. His cock fit so tightly into you it was almost choking him; you wailed into the wet, tear stained paper of his textbook, annotated with notes that you had no care to show him again. “Mmm, you can. I need to memorize it don’t I? So read it for me. Hurry up.” Yeonjun snaps his hips into you again, harsh slap of his skin meeting yours making you shiver. Your eyes glaze over the dumb algebraic equation, the words highlighted in neon yellow, blurry in your vision. You squinted your eyes and in a whiny, dumb voice you read out loud.

“There ya go,” He patted your butt, chuckling at the way you shook from his touch, “M’ learning so much…”

[myficsareset]

Love at first sight with Luffy

Love at First Sight (Luffy x Reader)

A/N : I don't know if this was exactly what you wanted but I hope you'll like it anyway ! Sorry if there's a few mistakes, English is not my first language and I was kinda tired writing this but it was really great to write ! Let me know if you'd like a part 2 !

As you were busy taking orders in the little restaurant you worked in, you heard the door open and turned your head when you heard a bunch of people talking loudly. There were five people now standing at the entrance of the restaurant and you thought that they made quite an interesting group.

As you looked at them, your gaze was immediatly drawn to a young man, a boy that stood among them, wearing a strawhat that covered brown curls. He had a huge grin on his face and was scanning the place, probably looking for a free table.

You stared at him for a few minutes, completly forgetting that you actually had work to do and that part of your job included welcoming new customers.

You hadn't met many people in your life, since you never had the opportunity to leave the small island where you lived, but this young man was probably the cutest you had ever layed eyes upon. There was just something about him that made you impossible to look away.

The brown haired finally turned his head in your direction and you were met by beautiful brown eyes, sparkling with joy and something else you couldn't quite put a name on. The boy had lost his smile and was now looking at you with such wide eyes that you started to feel weird. Your hand tightened on your notebook as your felt your cheeks starting to flush.

A green haired man nudged the straw hat boy who immediately broke eye contact. Your looked away and took a deep breath as if you breath had been taken away.

You opened your notebook, deciding that it was time to go back to work and went to the counter to pass the new orders to your colleagues. You still felt a little weird because of what had just happened but you decided to ignore it and to look around for more orders to take.

You noticed that the only new customers in the restaurant were the group with the strawhat boy.

Your heart started to race when you saw him sitting at the table a few meters away from you, talking cheerfully to his mates. Were you actually going to approach him ? Yes, because it was your job. Why were you so nervous about this anyway ?

You took a deep breath as you made your way to the table and once again your eyes met with the boy, making you instantly blush.

"Hello, what-what can I get for you ?" you asked, looking at him and trying not to show that you were actually very flustered.

The more you looked at him and the more familiar he felt to you. It was a weird feeling but it was actually very nice.

The boy had opened wide eyes and was staring at you without saying anything.

"I didn't know he could stop talking." the green haired man said sarcastically.

"Luffy ? The waitress is talking to you." said a girl with orange hair.

Luffy. So that was his name. You didn't know why but hearing his name felt like music to your ears and you couldn't help but smile a little.

Your cheeks flushed even more as you kept looking at the boy in front of you, who seemed to be totally lost in his thoughts.

He was really beautiful.

Luffy blinked and got back to reality, but he still looked at you like no one had ever looked at you before. His gaze felt warm and gentle, but also very intense.

"Were going to take a bit of everything." he said with that same smile he had earlier, but this time it was clearly addressed to you.

A warmth started spreading through your whole body and you couldn't help but smile back at him, also a little surprised by his request.

His smile felt warm in your heart and somewhat familiar. He really did have a beautiful smile.

Your eyes simply couldn't look away as your thoughts started to race in your head. You had never felt anything like this before.

What was happening to you ?

"Someone's hungry." you replied after a few seconds, both amused and surprised to see that he had ordered the whole menu.

The boy smiled.

"I'm the future king of the pirates so I need to eat enough food !" he said with that same smile plastered on his face.

Future king of the pirates ? That was really ambitious but you thought it was actually endearing. He had dreams and goals and you thought that it added to his charm. And just by looking at him, you just had the feeling that this boy was capable of doing anything.

"I'll get you plenty of food, don't worry mister future king of the pirates." you said smiling.

His eyes widened at the nickname and you could swear that you saw his cheeks turned a little pink.

Wasn't he adorable ?

You decided to look away and took the orders of his friends, before walking away.

You stopped and leaned against the counter of the bar, trying to regain your composure. You heart was beating like crazy and you just couldn't stop your racing thoughts. Your mind was still thinking about Luffy, that beautiful stranger you had just met and exchanged a few words with.

You felt like you were going crazy but most of all, you felt like you were falling in love.

[bsturnzmtt]

That’s what friends are for (part 2) - M. Sturniolo

Best friends to lovers

Part 1 here

Paring: softdom! Matt x innocent! Reader

Contains/warnings: manipulation, inexperienced reader, fingering, oral (both receiving), loss of innocence kinda, loss of virginity, pet names, p in v, aftercare, praise kink.

Summary: You go crying to Matt after a group of "friends' laughed at your innocence and inexperience. So Matt decides to help you…

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

He smiles softly, his thumb continuing to stroke your lower lip. "Of course, princess. We can stay right here." His other hand still on your thigh, he gives a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. He pulls the covers over you both, tucking you in close to his side.

It’s been a week since what happened with Matt. You haven’t seen him since. But you can’t stop thinking about him, how good he made you feel. Every time you think about him or think about what happened, you feel tingles down there. Sometimes at night you can’t help but touch yourself down there, but it was never the same. You would spend one or two hours trying to feel that release that he made you feel but, nothing.

Today Matt texted you and asked you if you wanted to come over to his place to watch a movie and maybe bake some cookies. You couldn’t deny to that. You loved the idea of watching a movie with your best friend, and you absolutely love baking. Not to mention cookies are one of your favourite pastries. You find it weird Matt texted you to come over and bake some cookies. Matt was never really into baking, many times you’ve invited him over to your place to bake he would just sit there and tell you, how bad he is at baking and that he doesn’t really enjoy it. But you quickly push those thoughts aside thinking he maybe found a passion for baking, just like you did.

Matt opens the door, he smiles warmly when he sees you, his eyes scanning you up and down hungrily. He's wearing a simple white t-shirt and some pijama pants, looking effortlessly charming as always. "Hey there, beautiful," he says, giving you a gentle hug. "Glad you could make it.”

You hug back. “Hiii” you say sounding excited. “You know I can’t deny an invitation that’s includes baking”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm against your ear as he holds you close. "Oh, I know" he murmurs, his hands gently squeezing your waist. “But, yknow… I say we chill first, we could get comfy, catch up.” he says, a hint of mischief in his eyes. He leads you to the living room, where a cozy atmosphere awaits you.

“Yeah, sure” you say a little nervous. Having him this close made you feel those tingles down there.

He raises an eyebrow at your response "Good girl" He smirks as he senses your nervousness and he doesn’t miss the opportunity to press on it. He sits down on the large couch before pulling you down to sit in between his legs. His arms snakes around your waist, his hands resting under your shirt. Your cheeks turn a cute shade of pink.

He leans in, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers "You're so cute when you blush" His hands start to slide further up your stomach, fingertips brushing the underside of your breasts, teasing and exploratory. His touch making you gasp and shiver at the contact, he chuckles lowly. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

His hands continue their tantalizing journey, fingertips dancing across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He cups your breasts, thumbs gently circling your sensitive nipples, the sensation sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. “Fuck, you’re not wearing a bra.” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, causing a new wave of shivers down your spine.

Your breathing start to get heavy. You lean your head back closing your eyes, and biting your lip, enjoying the sensation.

He smiles against your skin, feeling your body respond to his touch. He squeezes your breasts gently, continuing to tease your nipples. His touches become more insistent, squeezing a little harder, kneading and massaging. His mouth latches onto the side of your neck, peppering kisses and sucks. He smirks and sucks on the soft spot on your neck, knowing it will leave a mark. He moves his hands away from your breasts and trails them slowly down, slipping under the waistband of your pants.

You let out soft moans and squirm under his touch. When you feel his hands trailing down the waistband of your pants you gently stop his hands. “Matt-… I-”

He pauses at your gentle protest, his fingers still teasing the edges of your underwear. He looks at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes dark with desire. "What's wrong, baby? You don't want me to touch you there?" he teases, his voice low and husky.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…” you say quietly.

He chuckles, the sound sending a vibration through you as his lips still linger on your neck. "What's not a good idea? Me touching you?" He continues to play with your underwear, tracing the outline of your core through the fabric. "I think it feels pretty good, don't you?" his tone is soothing, gentle, like he's trying to coax you into submission. “We've done this before, haven't we?" His hands slide back up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles over your nipples. "You liked it then, didn't you?"

“I- uhmm… yes” you say gently as your thighs squeeze together at the memory.

A low, satisfied hum escapes him as he feels your legs press together, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "That's my good girl," he coos, his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple, rolling it between them. "You remember how good I can make you feel, don't you?"

You nod slowly.

"Then what's the problem now?" He asks, his voice still low and seductive. He smirks, feeling the shift in your thighs, the clenching of your muscles, he knows he has you. "Mmm, I remember how sweet you tasted that night," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "So innocent, so responsive." A smug smile crosses his lips as he continues to manipulate your body, feeling it respond to his touch despite your initial hesitation. “Tell me… have you thought about me, after that night?” His fingers continue to play with your nipples, teasing them into hard peaks.

“Y-yes…” you say feeling embarrassed.

"You have?" He asks, playing innocent despite knowing full well that he's had a hold of you since that fateful night. "And…Have you touched yourself, thinking of me?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moves from your breast to the waistband of your underwear teasingly close, but never touching, only prolonging the need building within you.

You nearly gasp at his question. “I- I’ve tried…” you say nervously.

A low, approving chuckle escapes him at your admission, his eyes darkening with desire. "Tried?" He teases, his hand still hovering just above your pant line. "Oh, I bet you have," his eyes darkening with desire as he imagines you pleasuring yourself, thinking of him. "I bet you've rubbed your little clit, imagining my fingers inside you, my tongue on your sweet pussy." He smirks, knowing he's hit a sensitive spot. His hand doesn't move from the waistband of your undergarments, teasing and taunting you with its proximity. "Tell me more, baby. How often do you touch yourself, thinking about what we did that night?"

You stay silent for a few seconds, feeling embarrassed. “A lot… but I- I couldn’t-…”

He smirks, knowing exactly what you're trying to say, and his ego swells at the thought of you touching yourself, trying to imitate the pleasure he'd given you that night. "Mmm, couldn't what, baby?" He coaxes, his voice dripping with seduction. "Come on, you can tell me. Did you get close, but just couldn't make yourself cum like I did? Did you need my fingers and my tongue to make you fall apart?" he asks, tilting your chin up with a finger so you're forced to look at him. He smirks down at you, clearly enjoying your embarrassment and vulnerability.

“Mhm” you nod.

His smirk widens at your quiet admission, and he hooks his finger under the waistband of your panties, teasingly pulling them away from your skin. He knows exactly where he can take this conversation, exactly how he can torture you now. “I can help you with that, only if you help me after.” He says with a smirk. “After all, we’re best friends. And best friends help each other, right?” He says, his voice full of lust and desire.

“…yes” you say quietly.

He grins, pleased with your agreement, and slides his hand back to cup your sex, feeling the dampness that has soaked through your panties. "Good girl," he praises, rubbing his thumb over your clit through the fabric. “You’ll help me, right? You promise?”

“Mmh” you whimper and close your eyes. “Yes Matt”

He grins and begins to rub your clit more insistently, the sound of your whimpers and moans driving him crazy with lust. “You’re soaking wet, baby. You want me, don’t you?” He whispers gruffly in your ear. “Say it.”

“Yes Matt… please” you moan.

His breath hitches as you cry out his name, clearly needy and begging for him. He carries you and takes you to his room, and gently puts you on his bed.

He stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a hungry gaze. "Take off your top," he commands softly, his voice laced with desire. "I want to see those beautiful breasts again."

You take your top off.

He watches you undress, his gaze fixing on your exposed breasts. He can’t help but lick his lips as he drinks in the sight of them, the soft pink nipples already hardening in anticipation. "Fuck," he murmurs, climbing onto the bed and crawling towards you.

He can see the desire in your eyes, and it only fuels his own lust. He wastes no time in burying his face between your breasts, kissing and sucking on the soft flesh, his tongue swirling around your nipples as he does so.

“Mmmh” you whine.

He groans at the sound you make, his cock throbbing in his jeans. He pulls back and looks at you, his eyes shining with a naughty glint. "Be a good girl, and take off your panties." He whispers, biting his lip.

You obediently take off your pants and panties. "Mmm, good girl." He compliments, watching as you undress. His gaze darkens as he sees your bare pussy on display for him, already glistening with wetness. He rewards you with another kiss, this time more passionate and urgent. He can't help but let out a low growl as he feels the wetness of your pussy against him, his cock straining against his jeans. "You're so fucking wet for me." He leans down to place gentle kisses on your stomach, his lips trailing lower and lower until finally he reaches the apex of your thighs. "Spread your legs for me," he commands, pushing them apart.

You spread your legs open.

With your legs spread, he can fully see your glistening pussy and he licks his lips in hunger. He begins to lightly tease you, blowing on your clit and swirling his tongue around your entrance. He wants to hear you moan, wants to make you squirm with pleasure.

“Mmhp oh my god Matt” you moan as your hands go to grip his hair.

"Mmm, that's right baby. Moan for me." He growls, nipping at your thigh. With more purpose now, he begins to eat you out, his tongue swirling around and teasing your clit before plunging into your needy hole. He loves the way your hands grip his hair, holding him in place as he devours you.

Your mouth only letting out moans and whimpers in response.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groans, continuing his relentless assault on your pussy. His fingers dig into your thighs as he eats you out, his tongue delving deep into your wet heat, stroking your walls and flicking your clit with maddening precision.

You feel your pussy clenching, indicating that you’re close. Embarrassingly close after he barely started eating you out. “Mmh Matt.. I- I think-”

"Come on baby, let it happen. Give in to it." He urges, doubling his efforts. He sucks hard on your clit, flicking it rapidly with his tongue as he pushes a finger inside you, curling it to stroke that sweet spot deep within.

“Mmhp Matt.. oh god” you cum.

"That's it baby, let go. Give me all of that sweet cum." He groans, drinking up every last drop of your release, sucking and licking you clean until there's nothing left but the soft whimpers of pleasure escaping your lips. You finally release your grip from his hair.

"Hmmm...good girl." He smirks up at you, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "You taste amazing, He murmurs, licking his lips. "Mmm, I could do that all day." He says, kissing his way up your body before resting his head on your chest. He nuzzles against your breasts, listening to the sound of your heartbeat as it gradually returns to normal. He lifts his head up and looks at you. “Now it’s your turn to help me. Remember you promised?”

You nod nervously. “H- how do I help you?”

A sly grin spreads across his face as he notices your nervousness. "Just relax, I'll guide you. First, undo my pants." He directs as he sits down on the bed.

You sit up on the bed and nervously guide your hands to his belt.

"Good girl, now slowly unbuckle it." He encourages. Watching as you fumble with his belt, trying to keep your hands from shaking too much. "There you go." He murmurs when the buckle finally clicks open. His shaft is visible through his pants now.

You finish unbuckling his belt and fully take it off.

"Good job." He praises, leaning in and giving you a soft kiss. "Now, take my pants off." He whispers against your lips. His hands moving to help you slip his pants and underwear down. His cock springing free, already hard and throbbing.

“What do I do now?” You ask feeling confused and nervous.

He chuckles softly, seeing the look of innocence and confusion in your eyes. "You can use your hands at first." he suggests, guiding one of his hands over his hard member. "Stroke it up and down, like this." he demonstrates slowly.

You nervously use your hand that barely fits around his cock to stroke it up and down.

"That's it, just like that. Don't be shy, you can use both hands if you want." He encourages, his breathing picking up as you experiment with different strokes, getting a feel for his thick, pulsing length. "Oh, fuck yeah, right there..." He moans softly as your inexperienced hands try their best to satisfy him.

You speed up a little more using your both hands.

"Fuck, yes... Oh God, that's good." Matt growls. His head falls back as he enjoys the feeling of your soft hands on cock. His hips bucking slightly as you find a rhythm that makes him groan in pleasure.

“I- im i doing it correctly?” You ask nervously.

"Fuck, yes... you're doing it perfectly." He reassures you, reaching down to gently push your hands away. "But I want to feel your mouth on me now." He murmurs seductively.

“W-what?” You ask.

"You've been doing so well, but I want to try something else now..." he coaxes you, his voice soft and persuasive. “Just get on your knees for me.”

You get on the floor and on your knees in front of him.

"Good girl." He murmurs, leaning down to stroke your cheek gently. He then guides your head closer to his cock and nudges it against your lips, coating them in a trail of salty precum. He looks down at you, his lust-filled eyes full of dark promises. "Open your mouth." he commands gently.

You slowly open your mouth.

He smiles at your obedience before he slowly feeds his cock into your mouth. "Oh fuck... open wider now..." He whispers. "That's it, nice and open for me." He praises. "Now, suck on it gently like a lollipop" He instructs, his breath hitching in anticipation. “Fuck” he says letting out a low moan of pure pleasure as he watches you struggle to accommodate him.

You start sucking on it gently trying to get used to it.

"Mmm, that's it... oh fuck, just like that. You're such a good girl, taking my cock like that." He praises, his hands gently tangling in your hair as you bob your head. "Keep sucking, nice and slow. I'm going to give you a special treat."

As you keep sucking and your head goes deeper into his cock you gag a little.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good.” He says, his grip tightening a little in your hair. "That's it, keep gagging on my cock... mmm perfect.. you're such a filthy girl" He starts to thrust his hips a little so that you gag more and more on his cock as he starts to face-fuck you. His cock hits the back of your throat, causing another wave of gagging but he doesn’t stop until you get used to it.

"Ungh, yeah. Fuck..." He is now face fucking you relentlessly, his cock gushing pre cum down your throat. "Look at you, gagging so prettily on my cock. Such a girl.” He moans. “I'm going to fill this pretty mouth of yours soon enough." He teases, his thrusts growing more forceful as he fucks your face harder, chasing his pleasure. Tears start falling down your cheek at the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Oh, fuck yeah... you're so beautiful like this." he smirks as he sees the tears forming in your eyes, clearly loving the way you look as you get facefucked relentlessly by his cock, oblivious to the pain and struggle you're enduring. “I’m gonna cum”

"Fuck, I'm cumming!" He groans as his cock throbs and pulses, unloading a thick load of cum deep into your mouth. "Swallow it all, like a good girl." he commands, holding your head in place as he fills you with every last drop of his seed.

“Good girl, every last drop.” He says as he pulls his hips back. He sighs, running his hands through your hair affectionately as you sit there, his cum dripping down your chin and onto your chest. "You did so well, baby. Such a good girl for me."

You sit there trying to catch your breath.

"Take a deep breath, sweetheart" He coos, gently stroking your hair as you slowly come back to reality. He looks at you with pride and adoration in his eyes before leaning down to press a tender kiss on your lips.

“W-was it good?” You ask feeling nervous.

"More than good, baby. You made me feel so fucking good." He smiles warmly at you, his hands still cradling your face lovingly as if you are the most precious thing in the world to him. "I'm so proud of you for being such a good girl for me."

You smile softly at him, feeling happy that you made him feel good. You stand up and sit next to him.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his warm embrace. He presses a kiss to your forehead. He whispers in your ear, "you are my good girl… You know, I have another surprise for you," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling your ear.

“Really?” You ask innocently.

"Yes, really." He chuckles softly, lifting your chin with his finger to meet his gaze. His eyes sparkle with excitement and mischief as he looks at you. "But you have to promise me something first."

“What?” You ask with curiosity.

"Promise me that you'll keep an open mind and trust me completely, okay?" He looks at you earnestly, his hands still holding onto your chin.

“Promise” you say.

He smiles at you warmly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. He then leans in to kiss you again, deeply and passionately, leaving you breathless as he whispers against your lips.

“Matt…” you say quietly. You squeeze your thighs together feeling embarrassed that you feel tingles down there again.

He chuckles softly as he pulls away from the kiss, his eyes filled with amusement and lust. "You're so fucking cute, you know that?" Matt says, his hand moving from your cheek down to your neck, feeling your pulse race under his touch. "Did I get you all hot and bothered again?" He asks, his voice husky with desire as he notices the way you're squeezing your thighs together.

You nod slightly as you look away.

He smirks at you as he moves his hand from your neck down to your thighs, gently spreading them apart. He leans in closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers. "Don't be embarrassed, babe.”

You spread your legs wider.

He smirks as he sees how eagerly you spread your legs for him, making his own arousal grow at the sight. He moves his hand to your folds feeling your wetness. "Fuck, you're so wet for me again."

“Mmhp” you whine.

He chuckles at your response as he starts to rub your clit in circular motions, causing you to moan louder and grind your hips against his hand. He leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as he continues to tease you with his fingers.

“Matt mmh” you moan.

"You like that baby?" He asks as he continues to rub your clit while his other hand gropes your breast, squeezing it softy as his lips move from yours down to your neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of hot kisses.

“Mhm” you whine and nod.

He grins against your skin, pleased with your response as he increases the speed and pressure on your sensitive clit. His other hand moves to your other breast, squeezing and kneading it, making you gasp. "You're so responsive for me, baby," he says as his hand moves from your breast to his hard cock.

He smirks seeing you bite your lip, knowing he's the cause of that look. "it's so fucking hot seeing you like this," he says as he starts stroking his cock in front of you, teasing you with the tip against your wet entrance.

“Mmmh Matt what are you doing?” You ask.

"Oh, I'm just getting ready to take you right here," he says with a smirk, continuing to tease your entrance with the tip of his cock. "I want to feel every inch of you, baby. Every moan, every gasp, every squeeze of your tight virgin pussy around my cock."

“Mmh” you close your eyes in pleasure as you feel his tips on teasing your entrance. “Matt… I- will it hurt?”

He chuckles softly, his breath hot against your skin as he leans in close. "It might sting a little at first, but trust me, baby, it'll feel so good after that," he assures you, his fingers gently probing your entrance, feeling how wet and ready you are for him.

“Please be careful” you say a little scared.

"Always, princess," he says. He knows it's important to be patient and gentle with you, since you're a virgin. He carefully lines up the head of his cock with your entrance. He pushes in slowly, just the tip, letting you adjust to the sensation. "Breathe for me, baby,"

“Ahh Matt”

"Easy, shh, it's okay," he coos as he feels you tense up around him, the tightness of your virgin pussy a delicious challenge to his patience. He pauses, letting you get used to the sensation of his cock pressing against your entrance. "You're doing great, princess.”

He slowly starts pushing deeper. "You're so beautiful and tight," he groans, losing himself in the sensation of your body wrapped around him. He continues to push in slowly, giving you time to adjust. He leans in close, his warm breath caressing your ear as he whispers, "Look at me, baby. I want to see those pretty eyes when I take your virginity." His voice is low and husky with desire, urging you to open your eyes and meet his gaze.

You look at him. Your eyes starting to tear up a bit. “Matt.. mmh it’s starting to hurt.”

"I know, baby, I know. Just bear with me for a second longer, okay?" He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort you as he continues to push slowly, steadily inside you. "You're doing so well...almost there, princess."

“Mmh”

"That's it, you're there," he breathes as he finally slips inside you fully, his thick cock stretching your virgin tightness. He pauses for a moment, giving you a chance to adjust to the sensation of being fully penetrated for the first time.

“Oh my god Matt mmhp” your hands go to grip the bed sheets.

"Shh, it's okay, baby," he soothes, noticing your grip on the sheets tightening as you adjust to his full length inside you. He starts to move slowly, gently rocking his hips to help you get used to the feeling of being filled. "You're doing great, princess.”

“Maaatt” you whine in pain and pleasure.

Feeling your body react to his slow thrusts, Matt starts to move his hips a little faster, slow and steady so it's easier for you to adjust. He can't help but groan in pleasure as he feels your tightness wrapping around his cock. "That's it, princess.”

“Mmhp mmh”

He picks up his pace a bit more, still being careful not to be too rough on your virgin pussy. The wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you fill the room as he starts to thrust with more purpose, but still maintaining that gentle rhythm. "You feel amazing, baby...”

“Aah oh god”

"Mmm, you like that, don't you princess?" he purrs, leaning over to press a gentle kiss against your lips as he continues his slow, steady rhythm. "You're doing so well... I'm so proud of you." With a faint smirk.

“Mmh Matt.. I- i think it doesn’t hurt anymore”

"That's my good girl," he praises, his voice filled with warmth and admiration. He continues to move inside you, his cock sliding in and out of your now-accepting pussy with ease. "You're adapting so beautifully, princess. I knew you could do it."

“Maaatt it feels so good” you moan.

"Oh, princess... I can tell," he groans, his hips picking up a bit of speed as he feels your pleasure matching his own. "You're going to take my cock so well, aren't you? So perfect and tight... just for me." His hand goes to massage your clit slowly.

You shut your eyes and your back arches in pleasure.

"Oh, princess... you feel so fucking good. I can feel your pussy clenching around my cock as you moan for me..." His voice is deep, filled with desire and possession as his fingers circle your clit. He can feel the heat of your arousal, your body responding to his touch. "Look at you, taking my cock like it was made for you.”

“Matt mmhp” you moan.

"My sweet princess, cumming for me so soon?" his grip on hips tightens, setting a harder but still steady pace, driving into you deeper with every thrust.

“Mhm Matt I’m so close” you whine.

"Go on then... let go for me, princess. Cum hard on my cock," he instructs, his voice low and seductive. He can feel your walls fluttering around his cock and he can't wait to see you cum apart.

“Mmh Matt” you let out a final moan and cum.

"Ah, that's it, princess... let it all out for me," he moans, feeling your pussy spasm around his cock as you cum. He thrusts deeper, riding out your orgasm, his own nearing the edge. "Fuck, you're so beautiful when you cum...”

"Mmmm, look at your body... so beautiful, so perfect as you lay there," he groans, his hips thrusting deep into you one final time before reaching his own climax, he pulls out and cums all over your stomach.

And then he smirks at you, his eyes half lidded in post orgasm and arrogance at the sight of you covered in his cum. "Fuck, even better than I imagined, princess" he teases before getting up, still naked and going to get a cloth to clean you up.

"Don't worry, I've got you," he murmurs, his hands gently wiping away his cum from your skin with a soft cloth. As he cleans you, he can't help but let his fingertips graze your sensitive flesh, earning a shudder from you. "You okay, princess?”

You nod and smile at him softly.

"Good girl," he praises, a warm smile on his lips as he finishes cleaning you. He then pulls you into a tender embrace, holding you close against his chest. "You did so well, my little princess. I'm proud of you," he whispers, his voice filled with genuine affection.

“Thank you” you say as you cuddle up with him.

"Anytime, my sweet. That's what I'm here for," he murmurs, stroking your hair softly as you snuggle into his embrace. He can feel your heart beating steadily against his own, a comforting rhythm that fills him with contentment. "Rest now, princess. You deserve it."

You fall asleep on his chest.

He holds you close, cradling you in his arms as you drift off to sleep. The steady beat of your heart and your soft, even breaths are soothing to him, and he feels a deep sense of peace wash over him. "Sleep well, love.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

TY TY TY FOR 300 FOLLOWERS 💗💗💗 LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 💕

Hope you guys liked part 2!!

AND TY FOR 600 notes on part 1

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[pomefioredove]

hi!! could you pls do headcanons for the housewardens (+jamil) with a reader that stims? like if they get nervous or excited they do flappy hands! Gn reader, and the characters are crushing on reader but they’re not dating yet please! Thank you :>

:) of course! I stim so I get it LOL

summary: reader who stims! type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic for most, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

Riddle already has a high "nonsense tolerance" when it comes to you

if you were anyone else, he would get overstimulated so fast

but, it's you

and he likes you

and he puts a lot more effort into making you comfortable around him than he would ever admit

so, by all means! fidget, stim, hum, he likes all of you

and if anyone else has a problem with it, they can go through him, first

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if you can live with a little teasing, Leona can live with your stims

kidding

...kind of

he would never admit it to himself, but the way you get excited is kinda endearing to him

(major cuteness aggression)

so he just can't help teasing you a tiny bit for it

lovingly, of course

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul has an eye for detail and a love of figuring people out

and admiring observing you is one of his favorite pastimes!

he might need the information later

for... reasons.

he finds your mannerisms... interesting. your nervous ticks are so different from the other student's

then Floyd suggests you're obviously stimming; it just looks different "'cause you're on land and stuff,"

it makes sense (though he doesn't have to be so smug about it)

mystery solved

but Azul keeps staring at you, anyway. for... reasons.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

unsurprisingly, Kalim loves it

if he doesn't stim already, he might just start

it's a good way to let off some energy when he's overexcited, or calm him when he's nervous

(which happens more often than you'd think)

he would be baffled by the idea that people find it annoying

or weird, or childish

if he felt like someone was staring, or about to say something to you, he'd start stimming with you

power in numbers, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

surprisingly (or unsurprisingly?) Jamil doesn't really... care

at this point, he's dealt with everything

a nuclear bomb could go off and he probably wouldn't even react

that's a slow tuesday for him

it's only during the metaphorical nuclear fallout

(when he has that migraine he always gets)

that he'll ask you for quiet and space

and that's the very most he'll say about it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil isn't ignorant

he's not going to punish you for something that you find helpful

...and Rook has his little quirks, too

besides, there's nothing you could do that he wouldn't find endearing

what he will do, however, is help you manage

to your comfort, of course

there's a drawer full of stim toys in the Pomefiore lounge probably

and if not, Rook probably has a doohickey or two that can keep your hands occupied during quiet/important/etc occasions

otherwise, you're free to do whatever

I'm gonna be so real tbh I see Pomefiore as a very disability-friendly dorm and I'll die on that hill

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia! the freak himself

(affectionate)

nah, he doesn't care

he probably has a ton of his own stims he's already super embarrassed about

so he's definitely not going to say anything to you

if anything, it makes him feel better about himself

it's cute when you do it

he starts 3D printing you toys he think you'll like, most that he designed himself

so, he does care, but... in a good way!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

LMAO okay. wait

between Lilia, Silver, and Sebek, there's no way Malleus would see stimming as anything but normal

Lilia probably starts crawling on the walls like a spider when he's excited

so hand-flapping is like aw... cute! :) to Malleus

he would, will, and has stared down anyone who makes a face or a nasty comment about it

so you can be sure that no one will ever say anything mean to you about it!

like, ever again

[jarofstyles]

Flower

Hello… here is another mini series I started even tho I have other things I definitely need to finish…. But I’m kinda obsessed with them so I hope you guys like them 🫢

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 2 and 180+ exclusive writings!

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- y/n being oblivious, stupidly sweet h, things alluding to masturbation

“Y’know that isn’t normal for him, right?” Gia murmured as she came up next to Y/N. The low light of the bar had her squinting slightly, but thankfully the rock music wasn’t blaring too loud over the speakers over here. Coming after work, she had looked forward to meeting up with her friends for some much needed socialization- even if she was exhausted.

Confusion painted her features, looking at her friend with furrowed brows. “What are you talking about?” 

“Harry. He’s like, all over you. All the time” She looked over to the man  with a smirk, who had previously excused himself to participate in this round of pool. Y/N wasn’t much for the game so she stayed back in their seats, taking a moment to decompress. Or, try to. Sometimes it got a bit overwhelming with so many people talking at once.

“He’s just touchy, isn’t he?” Y/N had only known Harry for a few months, moving here to teach and one of her coworkers so kindly helped integrate Y/N  into her friend group. Harry owned a contracting business, actually, and Y/N had been getting lots of help from him on a variety of projects. Specifically, the latest project regarding his expertise in what sort of bannister she should have for the staircase. It was antique, and she didn’t want to be like those flippers she saw online who ruined the charm of old houses. If she wanted a brand new build, she would have bought one. “See?” 

Harry had his arm around Mitch, laughing about something probably a little dumb. The man was borderline tipsy but he’d just started his water rounds. He seemed to be an affectionate person, cuddly. At least to her and Mitch and Niall, all of whom seemed used to it. 

“Yeah, but not with women. He’s more reserved when it comes to them but not with you. Like… what was that before?” Her cheeks flushed slightly as dhe knew exactly when her friend was talking about. Harry had come back from the bar with their soft pretzel and another drink for her, and when he sat down she was promptly dragged into his lap. She’d let out a yelp but it turned into a laugh, settling in his thighs. Of course there was no admitting that her stomach had erupted in butterflies and she felt them kick up every time he rested his chin on her or squeezed her a little tighter to him. That the scent of his cologne had become something that grounded her anxiety in the moment, and it was weird how he seemed to be an anchor for her every time he pulled something like that. Somehow he just had that sort of effect on her.

Now that she mentioned it, she had noticed Sarah’s eyes widening when he did that, but she had assumed it was just for the pure audacity of a man manhandling a woman into his lap and ripping off a piece of cheese dipped pretzel and bringing it to her mouth. 

Y/N knew Harry was a cuddle bug. He was needy, like a pup, nosing and pawing his way into peoples hearts. But she assumed he did this sort of stuff with everyone. Maybe she wasn’t paying enough attention, but she had been too nervous to allow herself to think of his touches as flirtation. It would bring down the wall she’d tried to set there to not get her hopes up and look too deep into things. It had gotten her heart bruised a few times already. “Oh.” She replied, looking at her slowly emptying glass. “I, um, didn’t really think about that. He’s been pretty handsy for a long time.” He was also a flirt. Said things on purpose to make her flustered, but only in her ear so she’d get even more worked up. That was something he really liked to do- whisper in her ear or close to her to share something only with her. 

“Babes, you need to open your eyes. That man is completely gone for you. Smitten kitten. I was convinced you guys were secretly banging but I was trying to mind my business… but you mentioned a dating site earlier and I got confused.” She’d wholeheartedly thought they were already an item. “You need to talk to him or make a move or something. He’s all but pissed on you to claim you from the rest of the group, and he keeps looking over here to check on you. He acts like your boyfriend already, but there are more benefits you can cash in on if you just go for it.” She wiggled her brows making Y/N groan, hiding her head in her hands. 

She was way too sober for this conversation. 

Of course she had interest in Harry. Some feelings, even, but he’d never expressed interest in dating anyone. How could she not? He was almost unreal, checking loads of boxes she had in her mental list of ‘what my dream man would have’, including the dimple thing. The fact that he always said he was “waiting for the right one to find me”  when she’d ask floated back into her mind, clearing a bit of the fog that usually surrounded her when she thought about him. Had he been trying to tell her something?

Y/N could admit she wasn’t the most perceptive at times. She was a little oblivious, some could say, and didn’t read into signs well. The trait was something that used to get her into trouble when she was younger, her head always off in the clouds instead of where it needed to be according to the adults around her. It was possible she missed something, but she wanted to find out how to rectify that. 

“Speak of the devil…” Gia whispered, moving over a bit with a snicker as Harry seamlessly slipped back into the booth and ran his hand over her hair. Y/N felt his presence like a blanket, face turning to look at him and his concerned features. That little wrinkle between his brow she always noticed when he was upset or focusing heavily on something.

“Hi, petal. Something wrong? Headache?” He asked delicately in case the answer was yes. She got migraines frequently, as much as it sucked- but Harry had brought her some pain relievers while she was at work once to save her ass. God, her head was a mess but it wasn’t from the migraine this time around.

“No, I’m okay.” She lifted her head, feeling his hand slide under her hair to hold the back of her neck. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the chills settling on her skin as his thumb rubbed over the side of her throat, concern still etched on his features. “Was just a bit dehydrated but I’m fine now.” Her smile must not have been as convincing as she tried, his lips pursing as he shook his head. 

“Got t’be careful with eating the salty chips and then having the drinks… one glass isn’t gonna be enough.” He sighed. “Stay here for me, yeah? I’ll be right back, let me get you some water.” Without thinking he leaned in and pressed a peck to her temple, sliding back out of the booth leaving the spot tingling. Sitting there with rapidly blinking eyes, she watched the stretch of muscles flex under his tee shirt as he made his way towards the bar to order said water.

Okay. Yeah. Now that she mentioned it, she definitely knew he didn’t press little kisses to the rest of the girl’s heads, or give that amount of attention to her but… again, she had tried to ignore it. Tried not to get her hopes up.

“Girl… you’ve got to see it now.” Gia’s brows were raised up. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” 

Maybe she was right. 

——

“I’m okay, H. I promise.” Y/N laughed out the words as he brought the straw back to her mouth and gave her a look. “Fine. But I’m gonna have t’piss soon if you keep force feeding water down my throat.” She shook her head as she took another drink, making a show of swallowing it. “See? Done.” 

Harry’s eyes had dipped down to her throat when she swallowed and back up to her mouth, taking a beat too long to respond. “Good. You… we can’t have you feeling poorly tomorrow. Are y’still up for it?” His hand was traveling around her body. Not in a sexual way, not really, but over her shoulders. Rubbing her arm. Cupping the back of her neck. Fiddling with her hair. For the first time, Y/N could consciously see what Gia was talking about. Maybe it was sad she needed someone else’s validation of it first, but now that she had it she didn’t feel as crazy for the emotions she felt. 

“Of course.” Harry was taking her to a sick used bookstore that he had helped remodel a few years back. When he found out she had gotten back into a reading mood lately, he’d suggested it immediately over text under the table, which now that she was thinking about it…. It was obviously to ensure it would be just the two of them. No one else.  He wanted to take her by herself, a little outing for just the two of them.

Stupid butterflies kicked in overdrive. “I’ve been dying to grab some new books.”

“I know. I remembered it when the owner called me a few days back about something and knew I had t’take you.” He grinned, leaning in a bit as he tucked the hair behind her ear. “I really hope you’ll like it.”

Y/N didn’t have much time to respond before the chatter got louder and the group that had gone back up to the bar for more drink ambled back and climbed into the booth. This time it wasn’t as much of a shock when she was scooped up into his lap, but it still made her hot under the skin. Her tummy swirled as he wrapped one solid arm around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, the other running over her thigh. It wasn’t suggestive, closer to her knee as he began to rub his thumb over the soft skin there. 

For some reason it was getting to her, making her worked up. The gentle touches, the wholesome nature of it made her feel a bit ashamed as she felt herself throb between her thighs, but it only got worse when he adjusted her in his lap, lifting her like it was nothing. Of course he had strength, the man hauled lumber by himself and did all sorts of superhuman shit when it came to construction, but it still shocked her every time she got to experience it first hand.

Taking a moment to think about it, it was always apparent that he was a beautiful man with a beautiful body. One thing that she really liked were his arms. Just as a whole. Hands, arms, how they’d built out a bit from all the hands on work. His hands could be a little rough with some callouses from those tools, but her grandma always did tell her that was the sign of a hard working man. It wasn’t something she focused on before because she had tried to deny the possibility of not only rejection but not being able to be in the friend group if things went sour..  At the moment she was past that. 

She could see the vein in his arm just a bit, near the anchor tattoo. His hand curled over her knee, almost possessively. This entire position was him claiming her. Realizing now he’d never pulled any of the other girls as close as he did her made her head spin. Hell, he really didn’t do much than give a friendly hug or hand to help them if they were stumbling. Fuck, he could actually feel something for her. Far past friendship.

“You’re quiet.” His words were so close they almost vibrated in her ear, making her startle a bit. “Shit, sorry Petal. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The little smile given to her made its way into her bloodstream, heating her up the longer he looked at her. “Why are you in your head, hm? Tired?” 

The way he spoke to her was so tender and sweet… gah! Now that she was allowing the possibility to be a thought, it was shaking her up. 

“Yeah, getting tired.” She wasn’t lying.  Her Friday classes had been a handful. That was the truth. “Need to take a long shower and sleep until an hour before you come to pick me up.” 

“Sounds like a good plan. What kind of soap or shampoo do you use?” He asked, a noticeable shift in his voice. A little deeper, softer for her ears only. It was intimate, she realized. How he spoke to her privately with her tucked in his lap. Her body melted further into him, but the lump in her throat had expanded from the realization. “You always smell fuckin’ amazing.” His nose skimmed over the side of her jaw making her exhale shakily. He was taking an inhale of her as he hugged her body against him. Her poor vibrator was in for it when she got home. 

“Uh- it’s like a coconut citrus mix?” She had to think about it. It was hard to focus on anything with her revelations at hand and the man of the hour touching her so liberally. Like she was his to touch. It wasn’t disrespectful and she knew he was the first person to read her body language- hell, he probably could read her mind better than she could process her own thoughts. But it was still sinking in, the feelings gripping her stomach. “Thank you. I try my best. No one wants to be stinky.” Nose crinkling in disgust, she felt him shake his head against her. 

“Trust me when I say you’re the best smelling person I’ve met. Wouldn’t complain if all my things smelled like you.” Oh? He didn’t elaborate, but there was a barely there kiss to the hinge of her jaw rendering her speechless. His reaction was to place his chin back on her shoulder, interjecting into Niall’s rant while Y/N sat there trying to process what that was. 

Deciding to test something made her really nervous, but she wanted to see what he’d do. While he was always the affectionate one and she never pushed him away, she didn’t usually return it as much. He always sought her out and she reciprocated but she wasn’t one to initiate a lot… so she wanted to see what he’d do. 

Letting out a yawn, she leaned her head against his shoulder and let her head nuzzle into his neck. Without saying a word, her hand went for his on her thigh and weaved their fingers together, pulling it further up her thigh. Holding his hand, she could feel his body stiffen ever so slightly for a mere moment and his heart rate pick up. His other arm around her tightened, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “Comfy?” He mumbled to her.

“Mhm.” She nodded, letting his hand squeeze hers. He was just solid and sturdy. She could lean against him and feel protected in a way. Why she hadn’t tried this sooner she didn’t know, but she could hear his mood get better as he spoke. It was palpable, like he was vibrating a little bit, squeezing her hand every once in a while to remind her he was there. Or maybe it was for his own mind? 

It continued like this for a bit until everyone decided to get going, Harry being the last to stand. He was gentle about helping her off his lap, beating her to get on his feet and offered his hand to her to help her up. “C’mon, sleepy Flower. Time for your shower and sleep. Can’t have you too tired for the selection of books, hm?”  His hand steady on the small of her back, he led her to the car with a bit of a delay as they said good, a hug tight and lifting her off the ground a bit as he did so before having her promise to text when she got home. 

She fulfilled the promise, as well as her guilty vibrator session thinking about that tiny kiss on her skin and his hand on her knee, hoping that would make her chill out. It didn’t. 

[puckinghischier]

Meet the Parents

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader is nervous to meet jack’s parents

notes: got the itch to write again, and this request has been sitting in my inbox for awhile. this was very fun to write, and i’m learning i absolutely LOVE writing jack! the ending is kinda weird bc i didn’t really know how to end it, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: jack bringing his gf to meet the rest of his family and they all quickly adore her, but can tell she’s really important to jack and he really just loves her but she is also super close to Luke and that makes ellen very happy!! just something sweet have fun!!!

[4.2k]

“Darling, chill out. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m telling you, they already love you,” Jack brings a hand over to calm your bouncing knee.

You worry that Jack made a reservation at the wrong restaurant, seeing as the two of you have been sitting in the half circle booth for fifteen minutes already, and there’s no trace of the rest of the Hughes clan to be seen.

Jack’s parents had flown into Jersey yesterday, wanting to be there when the Devils play the Canucks tomorrow so they can see all of their children on the same ice once again.

Quinn and Luke were joining you for dinner tonight, too, but you had no fears about either of them being in attendance. If anything, the fact that both of them will be here calms your nerves a little more.

Luke was actually the reason you had met Jack in the first place. The small café you worked at being one of Luke’s favorite spots to come and decompress after practice or before big games. He would come in and sit at the same table in the back of the small dining room, ordering an iced green tea and a grilled ham and swiss every time.

You went to take your break one day, going to sit at your favorite secluded corner booth, only to find the space already taken by none other than your curly-headed regular.

He offered for you to sit, claiming his table had been taken when he came in, but he was about to take off anyways. You insisted he stayed and you share the booth, then spent your entire break chatting with the hockey player, as you had learned, and a friendship was quickly formed.

He started sitting in your booth instead of his table, causing you to spend most of your breaks talking to your new friend. The conversations during breaks and between rushes became him inviting you to games and outings with his teammates.

He had introduced you to Jack the first time you agreed to meet up with him at a sports bar down the road after a shift, and you were instantly drawn to the middle Hughes brother.

The more games you went to and the more you made appearances during post-game celebrations, the closer you became to Jack, until the two of you made the jump from friends to dating.

Luke had admitted that he knew from that first time he sat with you on your break, you were perfect for his brother. He orchestrated the whole thing, from inviting you out to bringing Jack along to a few of his ‘zen’ lunches before games after your first introduction to his older brother.

You were thankful Luke had decided to play matchmaker for his brother all those months ago. You couldn’t imagine your life without Jack in it, now. You had found your person, and gained two brothers out of it at the same time.

And even though you had been with Jack for quite some time, the opportunity to meet his parents had never presented until now. You had met Quinn only two months into your relationship, taking a trip to Vancouver with the two devils players to celebrate Quinn’s becoming captain of the Canucks.

Jim and Ellen hadn’t been able to make it then, flying out a few weeks after the three of you made your visit. Jack and Luke had invited you to spend the week with their family at their lake house this summer, but it was the same week you had flown home for your grandfather’s birthday party.

There were a couple more missed opportunities between now and then, but now is the time that you’re faced with the infamous task of meeting the parents.

You keep trying to tell yourself that they can’t be that scary, considering how quickly you were accepted by all three children they raised. But that seed of doubt keeps digging its roots in your mind, causing you to become a ball of anxious energy all day.

You had shown up and proceeded to clean Jack’s entire apartment at seven o’clock this morning, after cleaning yours last night, because you couldn’t sleep. You color-coded his t-shirts in his closet and re-organized all of Luke’s drawers in his room. Luke had joked that they should take you to a family reunion and maybe you’d start detailing their cars, next. The comment earned him a swift smack to the head from Jack.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, begged you to stop, and take a breather with him. He took you to a salon to get your nails re-done, the scrubbing you did to your shower last night ruining your current manicure. He also took you to the local animal shelter, remembering how you babbled about a statistic stating that petting a cat for ten minutes can reduce a person’s stress by 50%.

He brought you back to his apartment with plenty of time to get ready, and sat in the bathroom with you the entire time you showered so he could listen to you list your worries about this evening and reassure you everything would be fine. He claimed he wanted to learn and help when you sat down in front of the vanity he had bought and placed in his room for you, eager to help you apply the various creams and powders to your face. He tried to curl a few strands of your hair for you, causing you to break into a fit of giggles when he got the iron so tangled in your hair it stayed without either of you holding on to it.

His actions did ease your anxiety, being so focused on Jack and your love for him to leave any room for the familiar bubble of nervousness in your belly. But the second you stepped foot in the restaurant, it all became real again.

“Jack, are you sure this is the right place? Why aren’t they here yet? Do you think they forgot?” you place your hand on top of the one he just placed on your knee, looking over at him with wide, worried eyes.

“Yes, this is the right place. They’re just running a bit behind. Dad isn’t always the best judge of traffic. He thinks he can beat the GPS every time,” he chuckles, leaning in to place a kiss to your temple.

You close your eyes and lean into his kiss, allowing yourself to get lost in Jack and the comfort he never fails to bring you.

He removes his lips from your temple, lowering his head slightly to speak quietly into your ear.

“I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Mom is so excited to meet you, and Dad always asks about how your classes are going when I talk to him on the phone,” he starts, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. “Plus, if for some reason they decide they don’t like you, which is literally impossible, by the way, it’s not going to change the way I feel about you.”

He places a kiss to your cheek, your eyes still closed listening to his words. You let out a breath you had been holding, letting yourself fully sag into his side. He starts to speak softly once more as you lay your head fully on his shoulder.

“They will never change how much I love you, Y/N. You’re it for me. I’ll live the rest of my life in familial exile if I have to. You’re the only thing that matters to me, understand?”

“Now, don’t be so dramatic, Jack, I’m a catch. Surely if I can survive all the puck bunnies I can survive your mom and dad,” you joke, his words giving you a small boost of confidence. “Plus, they raised you, how scary can they really be?”

You lift your head off of his shoulder and pinch his cheek, poking fun at the fact the internet claims Jack isn’t very threatening.

“Heyyy,” he draws the word out, feigning offense. “I can be scary. I am a big scary hockey player after all,” he pouts bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

You bring your hand up to pat his cheek. “Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that, pretty boy.”

You giggle as Jack growls at you and brings his hands to tickle your sides, causing you to yelp and try to squirm away from him in the large booth.

Neither of you notice the hostess escorting the rest of the Hughes family towards your booth.

“Alright, get a room you two, geez. And don’t make it mine this time,” you hear Luke’s voice ring out, referencing the time Jack’s sheets were being washed so the two of you decided to nap in Luke’s room.

You snap to attention, separating yourself from Jack fully.

You look up to see his entire family standing there, looking at you. Jack rolls his eyes at his brother, quickly scooting out of the booth to greet his parents.

“We take a nap in your room one time and you never let us forget it. We even slept on top of your comforter, for crying out loud!” Jack ruffles Luke’s curls as he walks past him.

You wiggle your way out of the booth to greet his family, taking a few deep breaths for good measure.

You find yourself in front of Quinn first, walking into his open arms for one of your favorite Quinn bear hugs.

“How are you, squirt?” he asks, squeezing you tight.

“Quinnifer, I’m only two years younger than you,” you squeeze him back, hearing him chuckle at your own nickname for the defenseman.  

“Yeah, so you’re forever and affectionately known as squirt,” he says matter of factly, pulling back from the hug but keeping his hands on your upper arms as you roll your eyes at him.

“So, you doing okay? Any meltdowns yet? Jack told me you were nervous,” Quinn questions you, ducking slightly so he can look into your eyes.

“Well, Jack’s t-shirts are color coded and Luke’s drawers are now sorted in order of how he gets dressed, so if that’s what you call okay, then yeah, I’m doing great,” you reveal, giving Quinn a sheepish smile.

“I thought Jack said you were nervous? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for you,” he teases back, letting his hands drop.

“Ha-Ha, very funny, Quinnifer,” you deadpan.

Quinn laughs at you. “Seriously, you have nothing to worry about. I don’t know if Jack told you already, but they ask about you all the time. I think Mom’s over the moon that Rowdy finally has someone to keep him in check. They love you already.” Quinn tells you with the most sincerity you’ve ever heard from him.

You reach out and squeeze his shoulder, a silent thank you for the reassurance.

“Yeah, I think Mom’s already got the wedding colors picked out,” Luke approaches the two of you.

“Shut up, Moose. You’re just mad Jack snagged her when you were too dumb to,” Quinn elbows Luke in the ribs as he stands next to his oldest brother.

“Quinn, that’s literally the most disgusting thing you’ve ever said to me,” Luke hunches over, rubbing his abdomen.

“Gee, thanks Luke. Glad to know how repulsive you think I am,” you throw your arms up slightly, playfully scoffing.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N, you’re a catch and all, but my God, that’s like someone telling me I should make a move on my sister,” Luke makes a gagging noise, emphasizing his point.

“Don’t worry, Lukey, I feel the same way about it. You’re the annoying little brother I never wanted and didn’t have…until now,” you dig back, earning your own eye roll from the tallest Hughes.

You look over to see Jack conversing with his parents when he catches your eye, waving you over.

“Well, here goes nothing, I guess,” you whisper out before walking the few feet to your left where Jack stands with his parents.

You walk into the open arm Jack has held out for you, his arm slipping around your waist, his thumb lightly rubbing up and down to let you know he’s right there with you.

“Mom, Dad, this is Y/N,” Jack introduces you as you place your own hand over his on your waist, grounding yourself to him.

You’re so focused on trying to smile without looking like you’re in pain that you don’t see the look Jack gives you.

Ellen, however, does. Jack told her how nervous you were for tonight, begging her to not ask you too many questions and to let you do the talking, no matter how well intended her questions are.

She sees the way her son looks at you, never having seen such an expression of love on his face before. She notices how tightly you’re gripping his hand, and the slight motion of his thumb.

She knew she liked you before this moment, Jack’s constant talking about you making her feel like she’s already met you before. But witnessing your moment with Jack before the two of you were aware they had arrived, seeing how comfortable you are with her son, and how much joy was on his face every time he looked at you, was enough to sell her even further.

You reach your hand out for a handshake, trying to discreetly wipe your hand on the fabric of your dress.

“Hi, It’s so nice to finally meet you two. I’m so sorry we haven’t been able to meet before now. Jack’s told me so much about you,” you say to both of them, but reaching your hand out towards Ellen first.

Ellen takes your hand. “Oh, honey, we’re not a hand shaking family. You see how Quinn is, we’re huggers,” she pulls you forward, wrapping you in what you can only described as a motherly hug.

She squeezes you tightly before letting go, giving you a wide smile.

You turn to Jim, his arms already open and inviting.

You give him a quick hug, now knowing where Quinn gets his bear hugging tendencies from.

The six of you make your way into the large booth, you and Jack taking your spot in the middle of the booth with his parents sitting to his left and Quinn and Luke sitting to your right.

Jack’s hand makes its way to your leg immediately. Throughout the meal he’s never not touching you. Whether it’s his hand on your leg, his arm around your shoulders, or his hand resting in yours on the table, he always lets you know he’s right there with you.

Ellen and Jim ask you about your school work and what your plans are after you graduate. They ask you about your family and where you’re from, but they mostly let you set the pace of the conversation, which you’re thankful for.

The food comes and goes, and the anxiety you felt earlier melts away the longer you converse with the family.

Once the plates are cleared and dessert is ordered, the topic of hockey finally makes its way into the conversation of the night. You’re thankful, the spotlight finally being taken off of you for a few minutes.

“So, Quinny, hope you’re ready to get your ass beat tomorrow, because Luke and I won’t be taking it easy on you out there, Cap,” Jack changes the subject when there’s a lull in the discussion of how you ended up in New Jersey, giving you a squeeze and a quick wink, being able to tell you were getting a little talked out.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to. Then it’d be too easy, considering we’re going to shut you out anyways,” Quinn teases back.

“I don’t know, Huggy, I think that C added a bit too much weight to your jersey, you’re looking slower and slower every time I see you. Or maybe it’s just that old age catching up with you,” Luke chimes in.

“I’m twenty-four you idiot. I’m still one of the youngest guys on my team,” Quinn rolls his eyes. You notice a lot of eye rolling among the three brothers when they’re together.

“I don’t know, I heard that twenty-four in hockey years is basically like you’re fifty in normal people years,” Jim adds, smirking over at Jack.

“Oh, yeah? So you’re saying you could out skate me if we were to get on the ice right now, huh, Dad?” Quinn challenges his father.

“Sure I could. Who do you think you got all of your talent from, hmm?”

All three of the boys respond in unison. “Mom.”

The table erupts in laughter.

“Alright boys, enough. Before you talk your father into doing something that could get him hurt,” Ellen speaks through the laughter, looking up at her husband while resting her head on his shoulder for just a moment.

You watch the two look at each other, seeing how much love they share.

You turn your head to look over at Jack, laughter still on his face. You can’t help but smile up at him. You love him with everything you have in you, and finally meeting his entire family just solidified that for you. Being able to spend time with the wonderful people that raised him makes you love him that much more. You look around the table at his two brothers, still laughing with each other. You hope that one day you can have this with Jack. A family with nothing but love to give each other.

As you’re picturing your future with Jack, he’s looking over at you, thinking about how lucky he is that Luke happened to stumble into your café on one of his first days in New Jersey. He thanks the universe for putting you in his path and for the fact that you, for some unknown reason, decided to love him out of all the people in this world.

Ellen once again observes the looks both you and Jack gave the other when the other wasn’t paying attention. She feels a warmth settling in her chest when she looks at the two of you. She can see how much you mean to Jack, and how much he means to you. She sees how well you get along with Luke and Quinn, both of them talking about you nearly as much as Jack does. You fit in so well with their family; your humor, kindness, and capacity to love her boys making her feel like you’re simply an addition to their dynamic that she didn’t know was missing until now.

Dessert comes and goes and the boys all argue over who’s paying for dinner until Jim sneaks his card to the waiter while they were too busy yelling at one another.

You all exit the booth and make your way to the sidewalk in front of the building, chit chatting a little more while walking to the parking garage before parting ways.

You’re walking with Quinn, Luke and Jim, listening to them bicker about tomorrow’s game. You notice Jack and Ellen fall behind, Ellen linking arms with her middle son as they walk.

“So, what do you think?” Jack asks his mom, watching you push Luke lightly, wondering what he said to make your head fall back in laughter.

“Jack, she’s great. But you already knew that. Not that you need it, but my approval was given the second you called and said you’d met someone,” Ellen responds, following his gaze, watching you pull Jack’s jacket tighter around your shoulders.

“God, I love her, Mom. More than I ever knew was possible,” Jack sighs out, letting his head fall onto the top of Ellen’s as they walk.

“I can see it, Jack. And I can see she loves you just as much,” Ellen starts, bringing her free hand up to pat Jack’s arm. “My only advice? Don’t let her go. She’s special, Jack. The way she gets along with your brothers, and the way they love her like she’s been part of this family for years, that’s rare.”

Ellen blinks back tears, just overwhelmed with happiness that Jack found someone that’s able to love him as much as she knows he deserves to be loved.

“I know, Mom. Trust me, I know. I don’t ever plan on letting her go. In fact,” Jack pauses, pulling back from his mom as you round the corner into the garage with his dad and brothers, “I bought this about two months ago. Not gonna give it to her just yet, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. Had to go ahead and buy her one,” he pulls out a small velvet box, popping it open and showing his mom the ring he picked out for you.

“Oh, Jack,” Ellen coos as she takes the box from his hand, looking at the princess cut diamond sitting on top of the gold band.

Her eyes fill with tears for the millionth time this evening when she looks up at Jack, finally letting them spill over. She keeps looking down at the ring and then back up at Jack while the tears stream down her cheeks.

Jack feels his own eyes sting at his mother’s reaction, knowing they’re happy tears.

“Jack, I’m so proud of you. And so happy for you,” Ellen sniffles through the tears. “She’s going to love it, honey. Just…let me know before you do it, yeah? And don’t forget her parents, you gotta let them know, too.” She wipes her eyes, closing the box and handing him back the ring.

“Already taken care of. Asked them when I bought it. Told me they’d love nothing more, but to just let them know when it’s happening. And to send them lots of pictures,” Jack chuckles, placing the box back in his pocket but not taking his hand off of it.

“Oh, yes, I want lots of pictures too. Don’t want to miss a second of the moment I finally get a girl!” Ellen exclaims, throwing her hands out in excitement.

“Don’t worry, I plan on flying everyone out when I do it. Know it’d mean the world to her to have everyone here to celebrate afterwards. Got it all planned out and everything,” Jack tells his mom, pulling her in for a hug.

Ellen squeezes him as hard as she can, letting every ounce of pride and love she has in her body flow into Jack through her hug.

“Oh, and just in case you get too far ahead and start planning the wedding before I propose,“ Jack breaks the silence, knowing how excited Ellen can get, “Luke already called dibs on being the flower girl.”

Ellen bursts into laughter so loud it alerts you and the rest of her family that they were no longer behind you.

You back track just a little to find Jack and Ellen walking towards you while hugging each other and laughing.

“Where’d you guys go? I thought you were right behind us?” you asked, noticing the puffy nature of Ellen’s eyes but choosing not to overstep and comment on it.

“Oh, honey, we were. And always will be. Right here behind you, whenever you need us,” Ellen says as Jack comes up beside you and tugs you into his side.

Her sentimental comment confuses you, but you catch Jack smiling down at you out of the corner of your eye, any confusion forgotten the second your eyes met his.

“Alright, I better catch up with the rest of my crew. You boys need your rest tonight, you have a big game tomorrow,” Ellen points at Jack.

She makes her way over to you, Jack letting go of you in order to let his mother pull you into a hug.

“Y/N, it was so lovely to finally meet you. I’ll see you at the game tomorrow, okay?” She pulls back, bringing her hands to rest on your cheeks. “Welcome to the family, dear,” she tells you, pulling you in for yet another hug.

She meets her son’s gaze behind you as she squeezes you, a knowing look shared between the two.

You squeezed her back, willing yourself not to cry as you digest the words you wish you could go back and tell yourself this morning, so you could let her know it would all be okay, and to leave Jack’s closet alone.

She finally pulls back, walking over and giving Jack a kiss on the cheek before giving the two of you a small wave before disappearing around the corner, following her husband and two other sons.

You turn to look at Jack, tears in your eyes.

“Does that mean she liked me? Or was she just being nice?” you ask him, wanting to make sure you really did make a good impression on his family.

“Darling, she meant it, trust me. You’re one of us now. Have been from the start, really. The only thing you’re missing is the last name,” he assures you, earning a laugh as you shake your head and grab his hand, leading him in the direction of his parked car.

He watches as you walk in front of him, feeling the weight of the ring box in his pocket, finding no humor in the idea of you officially becoming a Hughes, knowing that day is coming sooner rather than later.