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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

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Under the Mistletoe || OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x bff!fem!reader Summary: Sick of his friends pining for each other but two stupid to realise it was mutual, Logan sets about making sure they both get their Christmas wish. Warnings: pining, angst, fluff WC: 2.2k

“Hold up, let me find his spare key,” Logan said as he balanced his box on top of the one you already carried.

“Just use mine,” you said as you carefully turned. “Back pocket, left. Other left, dude.”

“My bad.” Logan grabbed the keychain and tried the ones that weren’t your car or letterbox keys. “He gave you a key?”

“Just so I can water the plants while he’s away, and make sure the stove is turned off.”

Logan laughed, turning the right key and opening the door. “He doesn’t even cook.”

You shrugged and followed him into Oscar’s house. “Doesn’t stop him thinking he’s left it on as soon as he’s at the airport.”

It was like walking into your own apartment, there was a home comfort to hanging your keys on the hook that had your initials and hanging your coat on the rack. Picking your box up again, you followed Logan to the kitchen and deposited it on the bench before grabbing two glasses and pouring you both a much deserved drink.

“This is why people don’t believe you are ‘just friends’,” Logan stated, chuckling when you rolled your eyes at him and continued to help yourself to the snacks Oscar kept stocked for you.

“Just shut up and hang the decorations before I overlook your usefulness.”

Logan returned to his box, unpacking the tinsel and bunting that you had bought. “At least you didn’t deny it this time.”

“We are definitely just friends, Lo.” You looked down at the crisp packet and muttered under your breath, “I’m not his type anyway.”

You didn’t notice Logan pause, but you did look up when he shoved his handful back in the box. “What?”

“What?” you echoed.

“What did you say?”

“We are just friends.”

“No, after that.” He leaned back against the kitchen benchtop and crossed his arms. “How do you know you’re not his type?”

“Because we are friends, we talk about these things,” you said with a shrug. “Can we not talk about this right now? He’s going to be home in a few hours.”

“We have time,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “What makes you think you’re not his type?”

You huffed in annoyance and grabbed the decorations yourself, taking them to the living room since Logan was going to be no help. “Because I’m not, okay. He likes funny girls. He wants someone he can have a laugh with to take his mind off work when he gets home. And pretty too, actually he said ‘beautiful’.”

“Okay…” Logan stared at you until you grew uncomfortable.

“And he's surrounded by models at every event.”

“So why isn’t he dating one of them then?”

“Because his standards are obviously high if they aren’t pretty enough for him. I don’t stand a chance.”

Logan shook his head and groaned. “Have you told him that you love him?”

“Of course I have, I tell him all the time.”

��That’s not what I meant.”

You gave him a look that warned him not to ask another stupid question. “I’m not going to risk our friendship when my relationships never end well. I’d rather be his friend forever, than an ex I never see again.”

“God, you are both so stupid.” Logan brushed you aside as you tried to jump and reach the hooks high up the wall. “Give me that before you hurt yourself.”

You watched on as he hung the tinsel around the room with minimal guidance needed and deemed it safe enough to leave him in charge. Oscar was fairly tidy, compared to the other men you know, but his pet hate was making his bed. He would always leave it unmade claiming he was only going to make it messy again that night.

You went upstairs and made the bed before seeing the laundry basket was overflowing. He mustn’t have had time to do it between his trip to Baku, the McLaren Factory and then his short trip home to Melbourne. That was why you were in his house, setting it up for another Christmas he would miss with his family. You didn’t want him to feel alone so you were bringing Australia to him.

You lost track of time when you found his whites mixed in with the colours and you tutted to yourself as you separated them to soak in the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Oscar said when he found you in his laundry, both the dryer and the washing machine working as hard as you.

“Hey, you’re home!” You dropped the clothes you were folding and threw your arms around him. His tired chuckle made your heartbeat a little fast as he embraced you back and buried his face in your neck. “How’s mum and dad? And your sisters? Did they like the presents?”

His head grew heavier as he leaned against you and nodded. “Of course they did, you always know what they want.”

“Not me, you,” you corrected as you brushed a hand over his messy hair. “You got them remember.”

Oscar pulled back with a shy smile. “I think everyone knows you are the mastermind. I would have just given them a gift card.”

You laughed at the truth as the dryer finished another load but Oscar took your hand and towed you out of the laundry. “I’ll do it later,” he stated. “Logan’s already got the tree up but there’s one thing missing.”

Your jaw dropped as you saw the living room had been completely transformed into an Australian Christmas so Oscar would feel at home. A pine tree sat in the corner of the room, needles scattered around the base from trying to manoeuvre it into place. Like the ceiling, green and gold tinsel snaked around the tree but it was the floor that caught your eye.

“The sand was meant to be in the pool,” you laughed as you pointed to the small children’s sized blow up pool still in the box. Logan had poured the bags of golden sand around the tree and the wooden floor now resembled a tiny beach.

“You know, that makes more sense,” Logan admitted.

You bit your lip but it did little to stifle the laugh and when Oscar’s deeper laugh joined there was no holding back. The three of you collapsed laughing onto the couch to embrace the beach themed room and you kicked your shoes off to dig your toes into the sand.

“It’s so weird to imagine,” you chuckled, the snow falling outside a complete contradiction to the scene inside. The central heating had been cranked up to its hottest setting and it truly felt like summer. “Christmas is for making snowmen and having hot chocolate by the fire.”

Oscar draped his arm over the back of your cushion and stretched his legs out after his long flight. “How about next year I can take you home to experience this first hand?”

You smiled at the idea but you couldn’t make that commitment by saying yes, even if you wanted nothing more than to make it happen. “Maybe, let’s just see what the year brings. Who knows, you might want to take your girlfriend home.”

He looked at you with a frown. “I don’t have a girlfriend, yet.”

“Exactly, yet.”

“Idiots,” Logan mumbled as he got up. “I’m getting a drink. You guys want one?”

You both thanked him and as he left the room Oscar patted your knee. “Star time.”

You grinned at the fact he remembered your favourite part of setting the tree up and his hands settled on your hips when you reached it. “I can’t be bothered getting the ladder out,” he said before he picked you up. You placed the glittery star on the highest point and adjusted it a few times more than necessary until Oscar laughed and eased you down. But his hands still remained on your hips. “It’s perfect.”

Logan returned and the moment shattered as you took your drink from him and cleared your throat. “Merry Christmas, my orphan friends.”

“Thanks for the adoption,” Logan chuckled. “If I can’t spend Christmas with my family it’s nice to at least have you guys.”

“That probably sounded better in his head,” Oscar teased before raising his glass too. “But he’s right, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Your cheeks warmed at the smile on his face and you were sure he felt it when he pressed a chaste kiss to one. A little frazzled, you tried to hide the effect he had on you and pointed to the mess on the floor. “Do you think we can build a sandcastle?”

“No, but I think we can build a snowman. Go put your coat on, I know you want to.”

You didn’t have to be told twice and Logan laughed as Oscar followed you to the backyard. “You two have fun, I like the heat more.”

Your breath misted as it hit the chilly air and you rushed to pull your gloves on, something you should have done before stepping outside.

“Here, let me,” Oscar offered, shoving his own in his pocket in the meantime. He took your woollen mittens and held them open for you before tightening the wrists and sealing the warmth that remained inside. “You look like a marshmallow.”

You bent down and started to collect the snow needed to make the first ball and narrowed your eyes at him when he joined you a moment later, his gloves already on. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he smirked. “Marshmallows are cute.”

“Cute?” You wrinkled your nose and gently nudged him with your shoulder. “Now that’s an insult.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “To you or the marshmallow?”

“Uh, both,” you decided with a definitive nod.

“Okay, sorry,” he apologised and then bit his bottom lip as he stared at you over the growing snowball. “Marshmallows are beautiful and my favourite thing in the whole wide world. I love marshmallows.”

“Wow, weirdo, they aren’t that great.”

Logan had been about to ask if you wanted another drink but instead he closed the kitchen window. “Marshmallows, idiots.”

“Not bad for an Aussie,” you commented as you wrapped your arms around his waist and admired the finished product. “A shame you didn’t have a carrot in your fridge.”

Oscar pushed the cucumber nose in further to stop it drooping down before hugging you tighter. “Or a spare scarf, you must be freezing.” He pulled his own off one and draped it around your neck so yours could stay on the snowman. “Ready to go back in?”

You nodded reluctantly and let him go, following him into the warmth where Logan sat in the leather recliner watching Home Alone. “Nice to see you waited for the rest of us,” Oscar noted as he dropped onto the couch and pulled you down with him.

“You know it word for word.”

“So do you.”

“I ran out of things to do,” he said with a shrug.

Everything had been seen up so you were confused by the statement. “What did you do?”

Logan didn’t answer as he tossed another handful of popcorn in his mouth before blindly pointing in your direction, but higher. You and Oscar looked up and found a small wreath hanging where a picture frame of the Albert Park F1 circuit was, woven into the greenery you spotted it - Mistletoe.

“Dude!” “Mate!”

Logan laughed to himself and kept watching the movie. “You know the rules. Kiss or streak in the snow.”

“I don’t remember it being streaking,” Oscar commented as he turned to you.

You looked at him too, your eyes drifting down to his lips. You had spent countless daydreams imagining how they would feel against yours.

“Don’t overthink it, the rule needed changing,” Logan mumbled. “So…”

“It’s really cold outside,” you murmured as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his.

“Way too cold,” he agreed with the smallest of nods. The air was pregnant with the pause before he exhaled and reached for you. His hand curled behind your nape and drew you closer, so slowly you weren't sure he was going to change his mind or thinking you would. If only he knew.

Your heart thumped loudly as you felt his breath on your skin and your hands found their way to his shoulders and ran along the thick muscles that climbed his neck. “Osc,” you whispered softly as you felt the warmth radiating off his lips but still they didn’t touch.

“Yeah?” he asked, the corners tugging up as he heard the need in your tone.

“Please...”

He pulled back just far enough to see the burning desire in your eyes and his thumb stroked your jawline. “Been waiting years for this.”

You couldn’t tell who moved first, but you both moved together, his mouth slanting over yours perfectly like they were made to complement each other. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you tasted the beer on his tongue when he slipped it between your parted lips with a deep moan.

Popcorn rained over your heads and you broke apart to glare at the very smug looking man responsible. “About fucking time! I love you, but you are both idiots.”

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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rjchocobi · 5 days

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﹙🍃 𓂃 satan's right-hand man — lee haechan ! ﹚

♡ . . . synopsis ; you've known lee donghyuck your whole life, admired him from afar for half as long and yet, why does it take a cross-major project to get you to properly interact?

♡ . . . pairing ; computer science major! haechan × multimedia major! reader

♡ . . . genre ; non-idol au, college au (? very inaccurate portrayal of the education system haha). a few curses flying here and there.

“I don't think I can do it. There's way too many people around.”

You follow the tan-skinned target dressed in baggy jeans and a varsity jacket as he walks past your table, out of the cafeteria billowing murmurs of conversation. His brown hair flops down on his eyes, wired earphones making him oblivious to the world.

Or, in this case, you and your friend's schemes.

“Y/n, just breathe,” Gyuri chuckles, typing away on her laptop. “Most people here are too occupied with their own shit to care about yours.”

“Astounding analogy, truly,” you deadpan at the Literature major who shrugs, leaning back on the chair. The crop top you'd worn was sticking to your sweating back, uncomfortably so. “And sure, nobody would be curious as to why I'm walking up to the newly appointed captain of the soccer team. The last time someone asked him out, they went viral!”

“Hey, you're asking him out for an entirely different reason. Unless, you have a thing for bratty jocks with pretty faces?”

You couldn't stop the roll of your eyes. She was right, until you account for his soft brown eyes, tech nerd tendencies that came off as way too appealing than they had any business being and a presence that everyone heard yet missed when he wasn't around.

Oh god, you really were hopeless.

Gyuri pipes up next, looking away from the screen before her, “Also, it takes about five minutes to make it to the front gate. So, unless you have any other place in mind to ask him before the first game tomorrow, you should be running.”

The world screeches to a halt. Your eyes flicker to the wall clock, as you stand up immediately. “Shit, there's no way I'll make it to him before his usual bus leaves in these shoes!”

“Should I be concerned that you know his bus route?” Gyuri raises an inquisitive brow.

You muster your deadliest glare, grabbing for things and shoving them in your bag. “Don't make it sound creepy, weirdo. I used to take the same bus before we moved.”

“Eh, tomato to-mah-to,” Gyuri cocks her head. “Now, chop chop. You have precisely two minutes on the clock.”

Taking a deep breath, you try (and fail, evidently) to settle your stomach which had been dancing the tango on a loop for the whole day. “I'll see you later. And thanks for the coffee!”

Gyuri throws you double thumbs up. Whether in acceptance or encouragement, you don't have the time to figure out.

When you manage to stumble through the crowd going the opposite way, past the gates of your college campus and to the nearest bus stop, it's been nearly ten minutes. With your heart pounding against your throat, you scan the listing on your phone, “Let's see... Cheongpa 2GA, Cheongpa...”

“It got cancelled today. There was a big crash by the Hangang road.”

Your head shoots up at the distantly familiar voice, so fast that you're surprised you dodge a whiplash. He stands leaning against the pole upholding the overhead shade, a small smile on his face.

Inhaling sharply, you nod and speak after having reinstalled basic social skills. “Right. Uh, are there any other buses going the same way?”

“Not if you want to reach home past ten,” he muses. “I'll catch the next ride to the subway and take the train.”

The need to know why he was telling you this registered a little too late.

"Shouldn't you be looking for the Bogwang side buses, though?” he asks.

You nearly trip on the transition curb, going to stand beside him. “I'm visiting family in Cheongpa. Anyway, it's kind of weird that you know where I live, isn't it?”

He's still staring you down as he says, “Not as weird as you and your friend memorizing my schedules or tracking my hourly whereabouts.”

For the second time in the span of five minutes, you look up at him, finding the corners of his warm gaze crinkling with mirth. You feel your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I—”

One syllable doesn't make it out your mouth before he's humming in approval. About what, you're none the wiser. “Yeah, you guys are not as quiet as you may think.”

Humiliation burns red across the apples of your cheeks and creeps up your neck. If Lee Donghyuck had managed to overhear, how many other within earshot knew all about your business?

You settled for an indignant response. “Hey, it's rude to eavesdrop.”

Donghyuck chuckles, an airy sound but still low; lower than the pitches you know his laughter reached. “Or I just have really great hearing. So, what is it you wanted to ask me so badly?”

You catch up on the teasing lilt. “What if I say it's a love confession?”

Your flippant reply has him lose his cool for half a second yet you still consider it a win. He shoves his phone back in his pocket, “Doubt it. Setting aside the massive stroking my ego will receive, you don't seem like the type to lose your mind over asking someone out.”

“Touché,” You mumble, your next words put on hold due to the people near your surging forward as the next bus arrived.

Donghyuck walks forward, so at ease you think he had taken and discarded your conversation in the matter of seconds. Before your heart could drop to the depths of hell, he looks over in confusion. “You’re not coming?”

You follow him wordlessly, hanging around the back of the bus. Donghyuck stands near you, chuckling when he sees you're unable to hold onto the handlebars above.

“Too high for you?”

“Shut up before I stomp on your feet. I can assure you it hurts like a bitch,” you threaten and he thinks you look about as menacing as a kitten.

“Enlighten me then, Y/n. What made you stalk me on a Tuesday?” he asks instead, moving a little closer as the bus lurches forward.

Ignoring the zoo of butterflies in your gut, you sigh. “Remember the project that's supposed to be thirty percent of the semester's final grade? Well, my assignment goes way off my area of expertise."

He hums in acknowledgement, full lips parting in an 'o' of realization as he catches on. "And what do you expect me to do?"

Ever the overthinker, you translate that to him wanting nothing to do with this. You drop your head, eyes trained on the yellow wedges you'd put on for the day. It had given you nothing but blisters. That's what trying new things, going out of comfort zones get you—a reality check.

You voice is too small for your liking, "I was thinking of making a videogame. Nothing fancy, just the barebones of an interactive interface. I thought if I get a computer major on board, we could both submit the project and present different aspects of the process."

The split second of silence before he speaks is gut-wrenching. “Killing two birds with one stone. It's a smart idea.”

You glance up to see a leisurely grin on his face. Is it weird that the loosest definition of a compliment from him is throwing you into a spiral? Probably.

“So? Will you work on it with me?” you ask, all too eager.

He pretends to think it over, hand on his chin and everything. Then, “Say 'please' first.”

For a second, you're rendered speechless. “What?"

“What?” He blinks owlishly, parroting you. “If a cute girl asks nicely, maybe I'll agree.”

Your jaw slackens. “Lee Donghyuck, you are a menace to society.”

“Because I ask for my fair share? I see how it is.” He pouts mockingly, running a hand through his fluffy hair.

“You get to present the project, too! That's a fifty-fifty bargain unless you have a better idea for partner-work that assures you an easy A,” you cross your arms over your chest. You may be a hopeless case of anxiety and lackluster connections but you're not that desperate. And who does he think he is, anyway?

Donghyuck chuckles, head bobbing. “Not nearly enough. If I'm doing this, I want you to do two things for me.”

You nearly rethink your decision for even asking him in the first place. But acting like his personal errand girl is not worse than showing up to class with a half-assed project. “Nothing that entails me publicly making a fool out of myself more than I already do.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I won't ask for anything like that. Who do you take me for?”

You eye him up and down. “Right now? Satan's right-hand man.”

Donghyuck smirks, poking his tongue onto the inside of his cheek. “Alright, then. Satan's right-hand man says you must first ask him politely and second... go out on a date with him.”

#🍨 ── 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙤𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 ᵎ #lee haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct dream fluff #haechan fluff #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #nct drabbles #nct #haechan #haechan nct

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arachine · 1 year

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♡ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ｡･* . . . their firsts .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡ featuring :: neteyam, lo’ak and kiri sully

ᥫ᭡ includes :: their first kisses & times !!

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: sexual content (nothing explicit), fluff

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters are aged up, dry humor

ᥫ᭡ note :: depending on the attention this receives, i may or may not make a part two with spider, tsireya, and a’onung >_<

♯ first…kiss with neteyam .ᐟ

+ neteyam’s got that older brother charm. a real gentleman, through and through—which isn’t the least bit surprising because he’s neytiri’s son, after all. and given this, he just…naturally excels at most things, even kissing. when it happens, it’s kind of almost unreal, sort of like a fairytale. he’s just so…good at it, doesn’t rush you, or force his tongue down your throat, or do anything that would even slightly make you uncomfortable.

no, he’s slow—methodical. takes his time with you because he wants to taste you, and commit it to memory. i’d like to think he even makes you laugh before he goes in, because he’s just like that, you know? like, yeah, he’s got neytiri’s whole face but he’s still his daddy’s son—he’s got the smugness and attitude to prove it.

♯ first…time with neteyam .ᐟ

+ god, i don’t even know where to begin. every fiber of my being believes that he’d make it the most comfortable, painless experience ever. usually, most people dread their firsts—simply because their partners didn’t: 1) prep them properly, 2) make sure that they finished, or 3) provide aftercare—but neteyam? yeah, he’s going above and beyond, and checking off every single one! you being in pain and miserable was simply never an option.

as previously mentioned, i’d like to think he’d try and calm your nerves by making you laugh. just a few jokes here and there, just to get your mind off of the initial stretch of his fingers working you.

— “who’s the prettiest girl on pandora?” he teases, leaving zephyr-light kisses all over your face. you think he’s so corny, but giggle anyway, shoving lightly at his chest.

“stop it!” but he’s relentless, still peppering your face with kisses, still prodding your slit. you’re so distracted by his attempts to calm your nerves, that you don’t even notice his finger is all the way in. not until he pulls it out and praises you for opening up for him.

— “see, look at you,” a gentle hand rises to caress your cheek, “so pretty.”

♯ first…kiss with lo'ak .ᐟ

+ the concept of patience is entirely foreign to him. patience and him are like oil and water. they just don’t mix. he’s a here, now, and fast type of guy, always has been. and when the moment arises between you two, he’s the first to initiate it—however, it’s no fairytale moment. it’s toothy, wet, and inexperienced.

i’d like to think it’s you who has to take the initiative when it comes to kissing. and through this, he begins to get a sense of the things you like: how slow he should go, how much tongue, where he should hold you, and how he should move his lips. eventually, he gains enough confidence to kiss you the way he’s been wanting to kiss you—which is hard, and rough, and passionate—just a lot less toothy and wet.

♯ first…time with lo'ak .ᐟ

+ it’s all baby steps and hand holding with him in this department too. this is the one instance in which i don’t think he’d charge into. i think after kissing you for the first time, he’d use some of that knowledge to decipher how he’d go about it. at first, he’s like incredibly scared to touch you, just hovering over you like a sheet of paper, scared that if he uses just the slightest amount of strength, you’ll break or something.

— “does that hurt?” / “can you feel that?” / “maybe if we try it this way…” / “am i in?”

the sentiment is cute, thoughtful even. because don’t get me wrong, a man that takes the time to ask you how he should touch you, where he should touch you, and how you’re feeling during sex is amazing. bravo to any guy who does it (it’s the bare minimum), but lo’ak does it to the point where you’re questioning if he’s scared of pussy. overall, i think this is something you’ll have to take the initiative for too.

— “lo’ak if you don’t touch me right now, i swear to god i’m going to kill you and then myself.”

♯ first…kiss with kiri .ᐟ

+ my sweet girl. my bestest girl. i just know it’d be so fucking cute. like actually, the type of kiss where your leg slowly springs up (i.e. the princess diaries). yeah, it’d be that good. girls just do everything better anyway, and it’s kiri, so the expectations were already high (duh). the thing about kiri is, when she kisses, she really commits to the kiss. she doesn’t do half-assed, because kissing is like dessert.

it’s supposed to be (especially first kisses) sweet, and airy, and dizzying—and it is! the amalgamation of her tender touches, and the little giggles in between, and the teasing ‘run and follow’ your lips do…are all things that add to the experience. a kiss with kiri will literally have you on speed dial with uhaul, trust and believe!

♯ first…time with kiri .ᐟ

+ like neteyam, she’d be so attentive. just making sure you’re comfortable, reassuring you, whispering words of encouragement, and checking in on you mentally. she knows that sex can be exhausting (both physically and mentally), so i’d like to think she’d spend extra time on foreplay and aftercare than she would during the actual act itself—not that she had to spend much time on you anyway, because getting you to finish wasn’t something she considered to be much of a feat.

also, kiri is a princess, she’s literally the first born daughter. she may often appear to have a tough exterior, but…it’s just a front. dote on her and shower her with the same affections she showered you with, treat her like a little doll and watch her crumble underneath your fingertips from the smallest of praises.

— “such a sweet girl, staying open for me.” / “could watch you do that all day.” / “nobody touches me the way you do.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak sully x reader #lo’ak sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader smut #kiri x reader #kiri sully x reader #avatar x reader smut #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water smut #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader

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blueicequeen19 · 10 months

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The Help

Warnings: unprotected sex, blackmail, coercion, fighting, Rafe being a dick

You barely get a moment to catch your breath then he's inside you, pumping his hips and filling you painfully deep as he fucks you. Your legs wrap around his waist, your mouths smashed together in a passionate kiss as he hammers into you like his life depends on it. You're supposed to be making this quick anyway. You hear footsteps in the hallway, causing you to freeze for a moment but he doesn't stop despite being the one to demand discretion. Can't get caught fucking the help.

"I don't have a condom." He growls, burying his face in your neck as he licks and bites and kisses while railing you into the desk. Your back arches, your head thrown back as you near your release. One of his large hands fists the back of your hair, making your chest push out further as he trails his mouth down your collar bone.

"Don't stop." You rasp, your legs pushed open painfully wide as he hauls you even closer. He grunts, pulling back to look at you with swollen lips and blazing blue eyes before he's kissing you again, swallowing any sounds you might make.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum." Rafe growls, pushing your back flat on the desks surface and hammering into you with sexy deep grunts of pleasure. Your fingers slide between your thighs, eagerly stroking your clit until your body tightens and you cum with a choked cry, signaling his own release. You both continue to pant and moan as his thrusts slow, his cock pumping every bit of his seed deep inside you.

Finally, Rafe slows to a stop, remaining inside you while his chest heaves with every breath. You feel boneless and weak, your insides warm and euphoric as you try to grasp what just happened. You peek up at him to see his expression hardened as he withdraws his emotions then finally, the hard cock still throbbing inside you. He casts his eyes down as he steps back and turns away, making your body heat with humiliation. What's worse is when he starts to drip back out of you.

"Here. Go to the pharmacy." Rafe digs out his wallet and tosses a couple big bills on the desk, not meeting your eye as you lower your feet to the floor, your knees still weak.

"Um--."

"And call a doctor. I want you to get on birth control. I don't like condoms." Rafe sniffs before turning away and marching towards the door. You stand frozen for a moment before anger swells in your chest and the next thing you know, you've launched the lamp at him. It hits the door with a crash and Rafe freezes in place before slowly turning to face you, a brow raised.

"That's it? You fuck me, tell me to go get a plan B, then go see a doctor so you can keep fucking me?" Your body trembles with anger as Rafe's eyes narrow at you. He takes a warning step towards you, his hand outstretched like he's trying to calm a wild animal.

"Keep your voice down. This benefits us both." He hisses. When you shake your head violently, he bolts around the desk, grabbing you and shoving you down on the couch. You open your mouth to scream when his hand slaps down on your mouth, your body pinned beneath his.

"Stop it! What are you freaking out about? You don't want to fuck me again, is that it?" Rafe demands, removing his hand from your mouth to catch your arms as you try to lash out.

"I don't want to just fuck you, Rafe Cameron. I'm not that type of girl." You snarl, bucking beneath him as he chuckles darkly.

"Trust me, you are now, darlin'." Rafe leans down and kisses you hard. You try to resist but his tongue forces its way into your mouth, stealing your ability to think.

"You'll serve me during the day and warm my fucking bed at night." Rafe murmurs against your lips before gently pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. You whimper, your resolve slipping with each passing second.

"You'll get on birth control so I can keep cumming inside you and you'll do so immediately." He continues between kisses, his knees suddenly pressing between your wet thighs.

"You're going to keep your mouth shut and not tell anyone anything because I'm going to take care of you. And you're going to let me." Rafe sits back on the couch, yanking you onto his lap as he frees his cock again. He scoops his own cum off your thighs and uses it as lube as he pushes back inside your sensitive pussy.

"So be a good girl, do as you're told and shut up."

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #obx2 #rafe x y/n #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #Rafe Cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron

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aluciahaz · 1 month

Note

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub hazbin hotel #bottom vox #sub vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox

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justlillythinking · 1 year

Text

idk where to put requests bc i barely ask for stuff on here but basically my idea was this. neteyam x human reader that is hella funny. friends to lovers type thing where he feels his responsibilities and stress slip away when hes with them. kiss kiss love confession type thing. gn or fem would be cool mookie

neteyam x human!reader imagine

1.7k words

warnings- sfw, mutual pinning, soft fluff, a little angst ? love confessions

also while writing this it was inspired by in love with you by erykah badu and boogie nights/all night by erykah badu

hanging out with the sullys is always interesting, from going on ikran rides to sneaking on missions. when lo'ak says that you should all go on a ride right before eclipse, neteyam is fast to object.

"come on bro, you know dad is going to slaughter us if we are out at eclipse, lets just go tomorrow."

spider huffs before jumping on lo'aks ikran. god, my brother is such an ass, sometimes i just want to slap him so hard he can't feel his face for a week. i give neteyam a look, us both understanding that the only way to keep our stupid brothers in line is to follow them and keep them safe. he helps me up onto his ikran and we take off after spider and lo'ak, soaring in the calm sunset.

after flying for 10 minutes, spider and lo'ak land somewhere in the floating mountains, neteyam and i follow after them. when we touch down, neteyam picks me up and sets me down; something he loves to do to remind me he’s 3 feet taller than i am.

“fucking skxawng”, i mutter under my breath. before i can even turn around to shoot him a dirty look, he picks me up by my waist with one hand, laughing at me kicking him.

“what was that you just said?” he asks, still laughing at me.

i shoot him the dirtiest glare possible, “ i called you a fucking skxawng, skxawng. now put me down before i rip your braid out.”

neteyam laughs and sets me down, walking away like i huff. we both eventually walk over to spider and lo’ak, sitting beside them and admiring the forrest. we all talk and joke around, laughing about stupid jokes and talking about rumors. we eventually get on the topic of crushes, me teasing spider about his growing crush on kiri, neteyam rolling his eyes like lo’ak complains.

“cuz, come on, that’s my sister i don’t need to know that you want to bang her bro. how would that even work anyways, a human and a na’vi??”

i sigh to myself, knowing what lo’ak says about a human being with a na’vi is true and that neteyam and i will probably never grow to something more than just being friends.

little do i know, neteyam is having the same thoughts, wanting and wishing we could be more than friends, when in reality he knows that kissing me is probably off the table because of my exopack.

the conversation between all of us dissipates as we quiet down, all thinking about different things. i stand up and brush my legs off before saying we should head back so we can be home before eclipse. neteyam agrees while our brothers sigh with “do we have too” and “just like 5 more minutes i swear.”

we eventually all start walking back to the ikrans, lo’ak and spider racing each other. neteyam and i trail behind, talking and shoving each other and laughing. i look at him, the sunset shining on his beautiful blue skin and as it gets darker outside his freckles start shining. i realize that my feelings are futile, but it’s hard to be around the most kind, loyal, protective, beautiful man and not get attached.

i sigh, realizing i have gotten caught up in my own head again. when i look back up at him i see him with a sad smile.

“what’s wrong?” i ask.

“it’s nothing.”

“well it’s got to be something, you’re not usually sad for no reason.”

he sighs and says, “really, it’s nothing. we should try to walk faster so we get back before eclipse.”

he starts walking faster towards the ikrans, making me jog to catch up. i grab his hand and stop walking.

“neteyam, please, don’t keep stuff from me. we are best friends, and when we first became friends you promised to always tell me what’s bothering you.”

“stop digging y/n, i don’t want to talk about it right now. i just want us to laugh and talk like usual right now.”

“just tell me so that i can help you and we can go back to normal.”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“nete please-“

“fucking stop y/n, i’m not going going to talk about this with you.”

i stand there shocked, not used to him getting angry. he walks off and i follow after him, confused as to why he’s so mad. i know i shouldn’t have pushed but it’s not like him to be so sad.

when we get back to the ikrans lo’ak and spider immediately notice that something’s off, seeing the look on neteyam’s face. when spider and lo’ak look to me i shrug and shake my head. it’s awkwardly silent before neteyam clears his throat and says, “ y/n, how about you ride with lo’ak and spider rides with me tonight.”

lo’ak and spider both whip around and look to me, about to complain about how it’s never been this way when i just shake my head. spider raises an eyebrow at me but walks over to neteyams ikran anyways. i walk to lo’aks, waiting for his to grab me by the waist to help me but he doesn’t. i climb up, and go to hold onto his waist, but i stop and hold his shoulders.

neteyam and spider take off first, lo’ak and i soon after. we sit in science for a little before he asks, “so what happened?”

i sigh, “he just seemed off. he’s been more distant and sad lately, but i guess that’s just a journey of him becoming a man.”

“yeah well he has been stressed out about the whole ‘becoming a man and choosing a mate’ thing. it’s not like there’s not 20 girls that would die for him to stick it in them,” he snickers.

“ew come on lo’ak that’s disgusting.”

“i mean, i know who im choosing when i become a man.”

“the hottest girl who wants me, duh cuz. i mean that’s skxawng has always been picky, but now it seems like he’s trying to always want what he can’t have.”

“what do you mean?”

“come on cuz, you can’t be that blind. did you notice when he started getting all whiny earlier?”

“no? i mean after we talked i guess?”

“and we talked about what...”

i pause, trying to remember.

“ummmmm we talked about how you wanted to bang that girl we saw that was healing you and neteyam’s dumb asses, we talked about how spider is never going to find a na’vi that wants his tiny ass but let’s be honest, him and kiri totally have something going-“

“no you fucking skxawng we talked about humans and na’vi, then neteyam got all whiny and shit.”

i pause, “so?”

“so who is the human that neteyam spends all his time with?”

i stop.

“you’re saying that neteyam likes me?”

“YES THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING AND YOU CLEARLY LIKE HIM TOO”

i blush and laugh, “ lo’ak, there’s no way he likes me. you said it yourself, he was like 30 hot girls lined up for him.”

“he totally does like you-“

“he totally doesn’t-“

“but you like him anyways. that’s the point, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not because we all know that you two like each other.”

we ride back home in silence, i think about what he has said. could it neteyam actually like me too? is that why he didn’t want to talk about it with me? i wonder what would even happen if he did, it’s not like we could mate.

when we land at home, i get of lo’aks ikran and thank him for telling me. i walk to my tent and lay down, thinking about how this could change everything. i should probably talk to neteyam about it instead of just mulling it over by myself.

i decide to get up and go talk to him, even though i’m scared that lo’ak could be wrong. i mean, what if i talk to him about it and tell him i like him when he doesn’t even like me back? i stand by his family’s tent, not sure if i should go it on not.

while i’m standing there thinking, i don’t notice that neteyam walked up behind me. he taps me on the shoulder and when i turn around i see that it’s him.

“hi.”

“hey?” he says, nervously scratching his neck.

“i think we need to talk, i was about to go in and ask for you.”

“i told you i don’t want to talk about it-“

“lo’ak told me you have a crush on me.”

he stares down at me with wide eyes. i can see his cheeks turn purple as he blushes and he opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something. i grab his hand, my small one grabbing on to 3 of his fingers. i walk us over to my tent, thankfully lo’ak must have gotten spider to stay away for a little.

when we go inside my tent, neteyam looks so nervous that you would think i’m trying to shoot him. he starts rambling, “ listen i don’t know why lo’ak would tell you that because i don’t have a crush on you i mean, you’re my bestfriend that would be kind of weird right? i mean not to say that you’re not funny or pretty, because you definitely are but even if i did like you, i mean how would that even work, i’m na’vi and you’re human and we probably would even be able to kiss because of your exopack and-“

i cut him off, “neteyam, i like you.”

“you do?”

“yeah, i do.”

“but why me, why not lo’ak? or anyone else?”

i look at the floor, “because i don’t want lo’ak. i want you. i want your smile and how funny you are. i want to talk to you and go on your ikran with you. you understand me like no one else. i see you nete.”

i feel a his hand on my chin, guiding me to look up at him. he hugs me, my forehead on his chest.

“i see you y/n,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

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hp-hcs · 6 months

Note

Heyyy i saw your post about sending requests for mattheo, so here is my: mattheo x reader where they are best friends but like each other, mattheo goes out with girls that looks like her bc he is obsessed with reader, he also has a protective instinct with her, always keeping her by his side, kissing her cheek etc… and one day they are alone and they kiss each other, if you want to turn this a fluff or a smut!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 thank you!! ❤️

seven minutes in heaven — obsessed! mattheo riddle x gn! best friend! reader

tws: heated making out?

requests? 🥺🤲

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Y/N,” Pansy said through a mouthful of toast. “H’ve you seen Matty’s latest fucktoy?”

You glance up at her. “I haven’t. Also, stop insinuating that my best friend is a manwhore.”

“Babe,” Pansy says dryly. “He’s the living definition of manipulate mansplain manwhore.”

“Anyway, what Panz is trying to say,” Blaise leans in to the conversation. “Is that his newbie is that Hufflepuff a year below us. The one who everyone always thinks is like, your twin?”

You shrug. “It’s a big school. Lotta people look like me.”

“Yeah, everyone Mattheo’s ever dated,” Pansy mumbles.

“What are you on about?”

“I’m just saying, he has a type. Isn’t it a bit weird that his type is literally his sworn-platonic best friend?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Matty’s exes and I have nothing in common!”

“Except for being in love with Mattheo Riddle,” Blaise mutters.

“Alex was like, a full-blown jock. And Riley was just a straight-up motherfucker.”

“Not sensing any hostility or jealousy at all here.”

You roll your eyes. “We are just friends. We have been since first year.”

~~~ Mattheo threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side and kissing your forehead.

“What was that for?” You laugh, your eyebrows furrowed.

He shrugged. “Didn’t like the way that boy was staring at you.”

“What boy?” You asked, perking up and looking around.

His lips thinned and his hand tightened minutely on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

His voice was gruff and he pulled you a bit tighter to himself.

~~~

“What? No way!”

“Yeah, no, c’mon!” Mattheo protested.

“Too late!” Pansy grinned ecstatically. “Go on!”

You and Mattheo are bodily shoved into the closet, and the door shuts with a resounding thwunk. You can hear the others’ laughs drifting through from the other side.

You realize how close you two are, crammed in the tight space, your chests touching. Your cheeks flush in the dark closet and you clear your throat.

“Uh, so-”

“Shut up,” Mattheo mutters. “Please, for the love of Merlin. Stop talking.”

“Wh-”

He cuts you off with a searing kiss, his hands grabbing onto your hips and pulling you even closer.

You gasp, your hands laying flat on his chest like you’re about to shove him away; instead you kiss back with equal fervor, leaning in closer and letting your hands slide up to drape over his shoulders.

Mattheo pushes you back against the wall, his fingertips creeping under the hem of your shirt. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to forever.

Your shoulders hit the wall, and your hands go up to tangle in his hair. He pulls away from you to gasp for air, groaning under his breath and leaning down to start kissing along your jaw and neck.

You close your eyes, your head falling back against the wall. “Mattheo-” You sigh contentedly.

You’re interrupted by a very loud, insistent knocking. “Seven minutes! Put your clothes back on!” Your friends break into hysterical laughter.

You two break apart, startled. Mattheo steps back, and you hurriedly wipe your mouth on your sleeve. You both hastily smooth out your shirts, avoiding eye contact as you fix your hair.

The door suddenly swings open, Pansy and Blaise standing in the doorway with their arms crossed and shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Theodore so owes me thirty galleons.”

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #x male reader #gay #enby reader #hp x enby reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader

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avatar-anna · 5 months

Text

Snooze

youtube

sza deserves all the grammys this year i said what i said

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

*.*

"You're an idiot, Styles."

Harry tried to respond, but hissed as Y/n dabbed the cut near his eye. "Easy, there. I know you have gentler hands than that."

Y/n huffed, moving onto his split lip. Harry was sitting on top of her bathroom counter as she cleaned up his cuts from the fight he got into at his game an hour ago. She hadn't gone, and had been surprised when Harry showed up at her doorstep battered and bruised, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his cheek. They weren't supposed to see each other tonight, but Y/n didn't have time to think about the fact that Harry had come to her for help when they only had been sleeping together for two weeks now.

"Should've gone somewhere else if you wanted gentle," Y/n said, her words coming out icier than she'd intended. Perhaps she was overcompensating to cover up the fact that she didn't like seeing him hurt, but she quickly pushed that thought away until it was practically non-existent. "What the hell were you fighting about anyway?"

Harry had mentioned the fight was enough to get him thrown out of the game, but he didn't say what had pushed him to start it in the first place. Y/n had joined her friends at a handful of hockey games, and each time Harry was a cocky little shit on the ice, sometimes shoving an opponent around or getting in their face, but it was never anything serious. He was a lot of things, but Y/n never considered him to be the overly violent type. She didn't imagine any small thing would've caused him to lose it on someone, especially if it affected his team negatively.

Harry shrugged, but Y/n saw the dark look that crossed his face as he recalled the fight. "Some asshole on the other team was talking shit. I put a stop to it."

Definitely vague, but Y/n had no idea why. She didn't see any reason why he would have to hide his reason for getting in a fight during one of his games. "Well, I hope you got a few good hits in."

"Careful, Princess. You're starting to sound like you care about little old me."

Y/n blushed at Harry's sly grin. Something fluttered in her stomach, but she ignored it, opting to press just a little harder on the cut on his lip. "No. I just had it in my head that I was going to sit on your face tonight, and now I can't."

The look of pure disappointment on Harry's face left Y/n feeling perfectly pleased with herself. She couldn't help the way she swelled with pride at how much he wanted her. She wasn't really sure what that meant, but she didn't feel like putting much thought into it for now.

When Harry tried to lean in for a kiss, his hands, bruised knuckles and all, reaching out for her waist, Y/n stepped out of his grasp. She left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, returning with an ice pack and tossing it to Harry. "You can crash here tonight if you want," she said. "You know, concussion protocol and everything."

The look Harry gave her was one Y/n couldn't read, but it made her squirm, so she disappeared out of the bathroom once again. Harry didn't follow, so she assumed he was just wrapping up or something. In the meantime, she went to her room, rustling through the stack of vinyls next to her desk before settling on one and and putting on her record player. It crackled for a moment, then music erupted from the speakers, filling Y/n's bedroom and putting her at ease a bit. The truth was, seeing Harry roughed up didn't sit well with her. She worried for him, felt bad that she wasn't there. And she didn't expect to feel that way, she didn't like it. Harry had joked earlier that she was starting to care about him, and that sent her nerves skittering too. That wasn't what this was.

Harry came in a few minutes later, setting his duffle bag in its usual place and picking his way through the dim glow of the twinkly lights. He slipped into bed next to Y/n, kissing up and down her neck and shoulders as he slipped his hands under her sleep shirt. Y/n tilted her head back to kiss him, not really thinking about the cut on his bottom lip. Harry winced a little, but didn't pull away. She did, though, brushing her thumb over his lip gently.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Maybe we should—"

"No, it's okay. I like the pain," Harry said, and Y/n couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Honestly, it was probably both.

The record continued to play, the melody easing the tension out of both of their shoulders and relaxing Y/n in a way it always did. "No more split lips. I don't like tasting blood when I kiss you."

"I see," Harry said, but there was something in his tone that made her brow furrow. It was the same knowing look he'd given her in her bathroom, but she still couldn't quite make sense of it. It felt like he knew something she didn't, like he saw right through the walls around her heart and knew how she really felt.

Flicking her eyes away from that piercing gaze of his, she shuffled around on her bed, inching down Harry's body as her fingers traced his lithe frame as she went. Harry tried to question her actions, but his voice dissolved into a moan before he could do so. Y/n didn't want to think anymore, didn't want to worry, didn't want her thoughts to travel into territory she considered dangerous. She just wanted him.

Harry's hand found the back of her head, content in her plan to leave the events of the night behind them. He murmured words of encouragement, talking her through it all and guiding her head and caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. The longer she pleasured him, the more that swell of pride came back in full force. She preened at each little reaction he had to her touch, causing her to smile as best she could in her current position.

When it was all said and done, Harry rested his head against Y/n's chest, his breaths deep and slow as the record's first side fizzled to an end. Y/n tried not to think too much into the position they'd found themselves in, or the way lying together felt just as right as having sex did. Her heart flipped as Harry sleepily mumbled, "Thanks for taking care of me," his voice so slurred she wondered if he would remember saying it in the morning.

Y/n couldn't find sleep as she wondered if she wanted him to or not.

*.*

Harry hadn't been a relationship very long, but he thought it was safe to say that he knew when his newly minted girlfriend was positively seething.

Y/n had somehow managed to sit on top of the kitchen counter, and he could see her staring from the doorway that led to the main room of his apartment where he was involved in a particularly intense drinking game. He knew why she was stewing over there, why her fingers tightly gripped the drink he'd gotten for her earlier. They were together now, but it wasn't like they made a formal announcement to anyone, so sometimes a girl would try to flirt at a party or a guy would get a little too comfortable around Y/n.

Neither of them liked to share, but Y/n wasn't as up front about it as Harry tended to be; he preferred to quietly seethe and let her bad mood settle over her while he had no problem letting people know he was hers. He didn't like this girl pressing up against him more than Y/n did, but every time he tried to put distance between them around the table, she just kept inching back to him. Harry fancied himself a gentleman and didn't want to embarrass the freshman by telling her point blank he wasn't interested, but she hadn't taken the subtle hints he was throwing her way, and he wanted to go to sleep a happy boyfriend.

The game wrapped up quickly and Harry did his best to try to get away from the table and head toward Y/n, but a hand rested on his bicep, causing him to turn around to look down at the young woman who'd been flirting with him the entirety of the game. Before she could get a word out, Harry was quick to shut her down. "I have a girlfriend."

"I don't see her," she said, her thumb smoothing over his shirtsleeve, but he quickly shrugged out of her grip and nodded to where he knew Y/n was watching the exchange take place.

And Harry felt it was an important distinction that his girlfriend was staring down the girl, not him.

Y/n's legs were crossed, causing her mini skirt to ride up her legs a couple inches. She wore tights underneath, but Harry only found it hotter. Everything about her turned him on, even the amused raise of her brows as she stared down the freshman who was still standing a little too close for her liking.

A lot was said in that look, and Harry could practically feel the chill from it, even when it wasn't necessarily directed at him. But it did the trick. The girl stepped back, a deep blush staining her cheeks. "Sorry, I'll just..."

And then she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd in search of someone available. Shaking his head, Harry maneuvered his way through his apartment, avoiding the throngs of people who bumped into him and got in his way. He didn't often have parties at his apartment, but tonight was his roommate's birthday, so now there was a hoard of people milling around his living room. He was just glad he had a lock on his door.

That look of irritation thinly veiled by amusement still danced in Y/n's eyes when Harry finally reached her. He was quick to tap her chin with his knuckle, settling one arm on the counter space beside her. "Ease up, tiger. I'm all yours, you know that."

"These underclassmen are bold," was all she said. The base of an R&B song thumped through the apartment, but this close together, Harry could hear her just fine. It was one of Y/n's favorite, and he could tell by the gentle sway of her body that she wasn't as mad as she was letting on.

Very gently, but with enough purpose and a look in his eyes that had Y/n's frosty exterior melting a little, he uncrossed her legs and settled in between them. "You didn't want to come save me?"

Harry took a sip of Y/n's drink when she offered it to him, running a hand through his hair idly. Most days he wore one baseball cap or another on his head, but recently he'd been going without one, perhaps on the off chance that his girlfriend's hands would find their way to his hair and play with it. "What did you want me to do? Go over there and shove my tongue down your throat?"

"I mean...I wouldn't have been opposed."

Sometimes Y/n came off as cold or a little standoffish, at least to those who didn't know her. She was just guarded, but every time Harry managed to put a smile on her face was worth it, each one a mini victory. There was a side to her that only he really knew, and he valued that nearly above everything else in their budding relationship.

"Noted," she said, crossing her arms around his neck. This close, Harry couldn't really do much but breathe in the smell of her perfume and nudge the sensitive skin of her neck with his nose. He swore he could just get drunk on the feel of her alone. Y/n hummed and leaned into him a little more before saying, "I like this song."

"Yeah?" Harry already knew, but he thought it was cute that she felt the need to tell him. As if he wasn't constantly cataloging all the little details that made up who she was.

Y/n nodded, pulling his head up by his hair so his eyes could meet hers. They were practically nose to nose, and he couldn't help the ridiculous smile that spread across his face as he looked into her eyes.

"What's that look for?" she asked.

I'm in love with you. It was the first time the thought had ever occurred to him, but he realized it was true. Harry was in love with Y/n. He'd liked her for a long time, as more than someone he just slept with, but he could tell that Y/n was a little slower to warm up to the idea of Harry being more than just a fuck buddy, so he took what she was willing to give him and bided his time. Now that he knew her even more, that he was able to be more to her, his heart unfurled like a flower in bloom.

Jesus, my teammates would roast the shit out of me if they heard me talking like this, he thought. Then, he realized he never answered Y/n's question. Clearing his throat, he gave her a quick kiss. "Come to bed with me? We can get up early tomorrow and get a morning skate in."

That, above everything, made Y/n's smile widen, and Harry couldn't fight his own when she crossed her legs behind his back and practically leaped into his arms.

*.*

Y/n didn't realize how someone could be so...perfect.

Before Harry waltzed his way into her life, she'd never done the whole relationship thing. She was too focused on skating, on her desire to be the best, to get distracted by things like boys and dates and hand-holding, by things like love. But Harry was just...well, he was unexpected. Now, years later, he was everything to her.

It started out with the small things. In school, he met her early in the morning for training, where she would do laps or work on tricks she was still struggling to master while he watched and reminded her to get water, or he would do drills while she reminded him of the same. They sat in ice baths together or helped each other stretch out their sore muscles, helped each other meal prep or make dinners that were beneficial to both their needs.

And then he became just as important to her off the ice. Harry made a point of reminding Y/n of balance, of enjoying herself outside the rink. They went on dates, studied together in the library, and volunteered at the community center to teach younger kids how to skate. When they were in school, Y/n and Harry had become some sort of unit, and that fact had only made her smile, not run away and hide like she originally thought it would.

Harry used to make her blood boil, now she didn't want to know what life would look like without him.

Currently, Harry was in the kitchen making breakfast. His back was to her, bearing the harsh red marks she left on his skin from last night. The sight made her cheeks flush, though she knew if Harry were to spot the various hickeys on her skin, or the still healing red marks around her wrists, his usual charming grin would become more sly and smug.

Leaning against the counter, Y/n watched Harry do his thing in content. He moved around their kitchen like he'd been there for years when in reality they'd only just moved in a couple months ago. Their previous apartment post-graduation was little more than a closet with a bathroom and a stove. Being in the minor leagues, Harry was offered accommodations with the rest of his team, but he declined so he could live with Y/n, and his paychecks, in the beginning, weren't nearly enough to live comfortably in a metropolitan city.

In some ways, Y/n missed their old apartment. It was way too tiny, the heat barely worked, and the neighborhood wasn't the greatest, but it was theirs, a piece of their history. She liked having to snuggle up so close to Harry simply to keep warm, liked the sweet old man and his little dog that Y/n watched occasionally for extra cash. Now their apartment was perfectly insulated, and their bed was big enough that sometimes it felt like there was too much space, and she wasn't quite sure about her new neighbors yet.

It was good. With Harry, things were always good. It was just different, and Y/n had always had a hard time adjusting to change. She would get there eventually, she just needed to warm up to their new home a bit more.

The expansive kitchen space was a good start, though.

Harry was humming to himself, an R&B song they both loved. His voice was deep and gravelly, and not just because he'd just woken up. Judging by the to-go cups on the kitchen island, he'd been up for a while. No, that was just his natural singing voice, and Y/n would've been irked that her boyfriend just had to be good at everything if his voice didn't make her toes curl.

"You're chipper this morning," she said, finally announcing her presence.

Harry turned around and smiled before turning back to whatever needed his attention at the stove. Y/n took that as her cue to walk over to him, her arms slipping around his waist. She kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, his skin warm despite not having a shirt on. Harry felt solid beneath her touch, but soft enough that she comfortably rested her cheek against him.

He continued to hum, one hand covering Y/n's while the other tended to their breakfast. When he was almost done, she let go and helped Harry get plates and utensils, setting up shop at their dining table while he brought their food over. The table was also a new addition to their home. Before, they just ate at the tiny counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, not having enough room for a proper table and chairs.

Harry pulled Y/n into his lap before she could even think about sitting in her own chair. She turned in her spot and looked down at him with raised eyebrows. "Why did we buy multiple chairs when we only ever use the one?"

It was a joke. Y/n didn't mind sitting on Harry's lap. His schedule was so hectic that sometimes it was weeks before he was able to come home and spend proper time with her. Being this close made up for lost time, and both of them were eager to be apart as little as possible during the off-season.

But Harry responded with an answer that made Y/n pause because she couldn't tell whether he was joking with her or being serious.

"For the kids, obviously."

She tried her hardest not to stiffen when he would be able to feel it. They'd never discussed kids. Ever. And Y/n couldn't tell if he was testing the waters or if he was genuinely being facetious.

"I don't know if sitting in your lap in front of our children would be very appropriate." Y/n managed to add a little sarcasm in her voice, unsure of where this conversation was going. Then, because she wasn't a woman scared of feelings and difficult conversations anymore, she said, "You've never talked about that before."

"About what?"

She leveled Harry with a flat look. "You know what."

Harry shrugged, clearly not as thrown off by this as Y/n was. "Is it a bad thing if I say I want to have your babies one day?"

Babies? As in plural? "Let's just focus on one for now," she said.

"Alright. One. I want a baby," Harry said plainly. "Not like now, or anything, but, like, in the future. I want that to be a step for us somewhere down the line."

Y/n knew Harry wasn't being pushy by being blunt. This was how they spoke when having serious conversations. No beating around the bush, no guessing at subtext or tones or anything like that. They just spoke in clear, declarative statements, though Y/n hadn't imagined having this particular conversation anytime soon.

She just didn't think Harry was there yet. She didn't know if she was there yet. They'd just moved into this apartment, and Harry was blowing up as a rookie in the NHL. Y/n was just getting her feet on the ground as a sports psychologist, with a little bit of coaching on the side because even with a full-time job she still couldn't live her life without skating multiple times a week. She just didn't think a baby fit into their lives right now, not with how they barely had time for each other as it was.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Harry said. He didn't seem put off by her lack of response to what he'd said, though that was probably because he was probably used to it by now.

"I'm not...opposed to the idea," Y/n said, because she really wasn't. If there was one person in this world that she wanted to raise a child with, it would be Harry. She could picture it if she allowed her mind to wander far enough—teaching them how to skate and bundling them up to watch Harry's home games, first Christmases and snow days and first steps at a hockey arena, skating recitals or hockey games where Harry would coach. It was a nice daydream.

"But?" Harry asked, his shoulders tensing, as if waiting for the blow.

"But nothing. I just think...I think I still want to be a little selfish and have you all to myself for a little while longer. I hardly get to see you as it is, you know? A baby would change our whole dynamic, and I feel like I'm finally settling into this new life here. Just the two of us."

Harry nodded. He didn't look disappointed, which filled Y/n with relief. She didn't want to upset him with her answer, but that was where she was at.

"I...agree," Harry finally said. "You made a good point there. I can't compete with a baby for your attention. That wouldn't be fair to the baby."

Y/n threw her head back and laughed. "No, it wouldn't. So we're in agreement then."

"Just you and me. For now."

"For now."

Harry leaned in to kiss her, and Y/n melted against him the second his lips were on hers. He groaned a little as she shifted in his lap before standing up and hauling her away from the breakfast he'd made and the table that started this whole conversation. Y/n didn't protest as he set her down on their bed, hands making quick work of the low slung sweatpants that rested on his hips. Harry brought his hand down between her legs, brows raising at how wet she was.

"Already?"

Y/n propped herself on her elbows and shrugged. "Your singing turned me on earlier."

"Really," Harry said, marveling at the revelation.

"Don't let it get to your head. I also think it's annoying how good you are at everything," she said.

Harry grinned before settling between her legs, his arms circling around her thighs to hold her in the exact way he wanted her. Y/n didn't want to talk anymore, but her boyfriend was a cocky little shit, and she knew she had to wait for him to finish basking in the compliment before they moved on.

"Hm. Maybe Harry Jr. will inherit my talents and become a singer."

"Harry Jr?"

"Or Harriet," Harry mused.

Y/n nudged his shoulder with her foot to bring him out of his reverie. "Look at me H. Not gonna happen."

Shrugging, Harry focused back on the task at hand. "Don't worry, Princess. I'll wear you down. I've got time to convince you."

*.*

Harry could hear the harsh, echoey footsteps of someone running through the halls of the arena, but he didn't open his eyes to see who it was. He didn't have to.

"Jesus, H," Y/n breathed when she skidded to a stop at his side. She sounded frantic, panicked. It was a voice he didn't hear often from his fiance.

To the athletic trainer on his other side, she asked, "Why is he just laying here? He needs to go to the hospital. Get off your ass and call an ambulance before—"

"Easy, Princess. We're waiting for the team doctor."

When Harry finally opened his eyes, just barely as the harsh light of the athletic trainer's office caused his head to throb, Y/n was already looking down at where he laid on the exam bed. There was a lot of raw emotion going through her all at once, Harry could see it on her face. He knew it wasn't long before she fell back on her default setting and shut down completely, hiding behind harsh words and a cold exterior.

"You—"

"I'm fine, bub, I promise," Harry said, though the nausea stirring in his gut at having his eyes open for too long wasn't a good sign. He probably had a concussion. He'd hit his head pretty hard when he fell on the ice, but he thought the sharp pain in his ribs was the major concern. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Don't be a hero," Y/n snapped, but he didn't take it personally. Then, she turned her steely gaze on the athletic trainer—a new hire who was on their own for the first time tonight—and said, "Call. An. Ambulance."

Harry shifted his focus to they young trainer, who looked like they were about to shit themselves under the weight of his fiance's stare. "I—I can't—We have to wait—"

Their gulp was audible as they struggled to string enough words together to form a sentence, which only set Y/n's eyes ablaze even more. Harry knew she was scared, he was sure that his fall looked a lot worse than it actually was. But she couldn't turn the new trainer into a puddle of tears. Not again.

"Y/n, look at me."

Harry watched as her eyes stayed trained on the athletic trainer for a few more seconds before sliding her gaze down to his. He could see the fear behind all that anger and toughness, and he carefully took her hand in his so he could kiss the diamond on her left ring finger. "I'm okay," he said again. "The team doctor is on his way, but we're probably looking at a minor concussion and some cracked ribs. That's all."

"That's all?"

Wrong choice of words. "I said minor, didn't I?"

The truth was the hit Harry took on the ice was one of the worst he'd experienced in his professional career. It was a total accident, just too much momentum between him and a player on the opposing team. But it sent Harry careening across the ice, punching the breath out of his lungs and knocking his helmet right off.

"Sit down and take some deep breaths while we wait for the doctor," Harry tried again. "You're gonna stress out the baby."

Y/n's hand instinctively went to her belly, resting their joined hands over the little bump there. In one of Harry's jerseys, it was hard to feel it through the thick material, but he could, and despite the pain he was in, his heart leaped in his chest at the notion of being close to his baby.

Pregnancy was a surprise to the both of them. They'd had one conversation two years ago about kids, but after that, Harry and Y/n never really brought the subject up again. They were just content to live their lives in the moment, not wanting to plan or stress about the future or what could be. But even if they hadn't anticipated Y/n being pregnant, both of them were excited at the prospect of raising a baby together. After that initial conversation, they decided to hold off on kids, and now, the moment felt just right.

Y/n did as Harry asked, taking a deep breath and easing into the chair beside the exam bed he was on. He watched as some of the initial fear and stress of watching him fall in real time wash away, her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she opened her eyes, her gaze found the athletic trainer's again.

"Remember to say please," Harry said before she opened her mouth.

Y/n cut him a glare before she looked back at the trainer. "Could you please find out when the doctor will be here?"

The athletic trainer didn't need to be asked twice. They scurried out of the room, and Harry could hear their frantic voice as they begged the team doctor over the phone to get to the arena faster.

"You know, you really gotta be careful, Princess. People might start to think you actually care about me."

It was his attempt at humor, easing the nerves he knew were swirling around inside her. Y/n's shoulders had yet to relax since she came in the room, and her eyes kept scanning his body as if a new affliction was magically going to appear in front of her. Unfortunately for Harry, his words did not have the desired effect. Y/n glared at him while most likely suppressing the urge to hit him.

"This isn't funny!"

"Never said it was."

"God, Harry," she said, her voice cracking beneath the steel she'd been hiding behind. Now that they were alone, her vulnerability started to make an appearance. "You—You scared me."

Harry's gaze softened. "I know, bub. I'm sorry."

Y/n ran a shaking hand through his hair, working through the knots in his tangled curls while her nails scratched his scalp. Harry leaned his head back with closed eyes, enjoying the familiar caress.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything as Y/n calmed herself—and Harry—down. Then, he squeezed her hand, peeking and eye open at her and giving her a knowing look. "You have to stop scaring the new hires. They know what they're doing."

"They looked like a child!" she huffed, pausing her ministrations. "We would already be at the hospital by now."

"I really don't think that's necessary," Harry insisted. "Let's just wait for the doctor, okay?"

Some might find Y/n's behavior overbearing, maybe even rude. But she lashed out when she was scared or angry, and even though Harry drove her insane when they first met years ago, she was fiercely protective of him now. And he couldn't really judge her for it, he was the same with her, especially now that she was pregnant. Y/n had chastised him a number of times already for not letting her carry groceries or assemble furniture for the nursery.

Y/n eventually nodded, begrudgingly agreeing to wait for the team doctor. She slumped in her chair beside Harry, exhaling a loud sigh. Harry grinned, slowly reaching for her chin and tilting her head to face him.

"Come give me a kiss. It'll make me feel better."

Under normal circumstances, Y/n would've scoffed. Harry had come home from a number of games and practices all banged up and begging for Y/n to kiss it better. But tonight she was shaken up at the severity of Harry's fall, and probably needed the kiss more than he did, which was why he said something in the first place.

Y/n pecked his lips before pulling away. She tried to, anyway, but Harry held her in place. "Now I know you can do better than that."

For the first time since she'd stormed in, Y/n grinned. It was small, but Harry counted the victory.

"You're trying to distract me," she said.

"Yes. Is it working?"

Y/n's smile grew a fraction. "Maybe."

Harry leaned in, and Y/n met him halfway, pressing their lips together. She tasted like vanilla, and Harry was inclined to taste as much as he could before the doctor arrived. Each kiss worked to melt Y/n, the hand resting on her cheek earning Harry a sweet little nuzzle in his palm when he eventually pulled away.

"I love you,"Harry said, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Love you too," she murmured, her hand reaching to hold the one he still had against her cheek as they waited for the doctor.

"Behave when the doctor gets here, please?"

"I always behave."

Now it was Harry's turn to scoff. He gave her one more kiss as he heard footsteps in the hallway drawing nearer to their door. "I'll remember you said that," he told her, pinching her cheek as a doctor and the same scared trainer entered the room.

"So, Harry. I heard you took a pretty nasty fall—"

"He needs to go to the hospital," Y/n cut in, that look of steel in her eyes once more.

Harry raised his eyes heavenward, bracing himself for a long night.

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

743 notes · View notes

ma1dita · 15 days

Note

I need a pt 2 to the Luke and long distance!gf PLEASEEEEE

mdni

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

pt 1 here

a/n: man... getting out of my writing rut so here's this filth. sexting. kinda public. luke cums in his pants. what a loser

wc: 780

*bzzz*

Luke’s phone buzzes for the third time in a row in his Financial Marketing lecture today. The notification shakes his phone against the wood of the table to the point that it’s bugging the hell out of Chris who’s locked into whatever the professor’s saying—but as soon as Luke sees your name flash across the slightly cracked screen of his iPhone, he drops his pen in favor of you. His brother rolls his eyes, slumping further into his seat head lolling against his arm. There’s a smile that immediately settles upon Luke’s cheeks at the thought of you.

“baby 🤭 you busy?”

“why are you not answering you don’t even like this class anyway”

“fine ig i’ll ask someone else for their opinion 🤷🏻‍♀️”

He chuckles lowly as he types out a reply, “opinion on what babe 👀” and Chris nudges his arm with a nod to ask if everything’s good. The professor drones on in the background about the stock market and for once, Luke is glad that Hermes gave him the ability to skate through his Econ degree (the only think he’ll be grateful to his absent father for), because it gives him more time to focus on more important things, like the slew of images of you trying on bikinis that infiltrate his phone.

[5 Image attachments]

“oops sorry! guess i sent them to the wrong person”

He gulps almost comically, shifting in his seat as he saves them for later. Shifty eyes and quick fingers can only do so much in a crowded lecture hall. But you see that his read receipts are on, and frankly the lack of a response is irritating when you’re pulling your best poses in the comfort of your living room. Boys never get how much effort it takes to be sexy.

“damn. guess i’ll go find a new boyfriend who can appreciate all of this”

Luke sighs, half stifled by is need to see you bare and his spit going down the wrong pipe that he clears his throat loudly, trying to ignore his jeans tightening by the second. Licking his lips, he clicks on the presentation slides, trying to catch up to where the professor is after your very welcome distractions.

[Image attachment]

He presses the ‘next’ button just as another iMessage notification pops up on his screen, trigger finger clicking open an image of your tits pressed between your fingers, nipples taut against the fabric and lips between your teeth—all shiny soft skin almost bursting through the flimsy top that’s loosening and almost vivid through the still image. If there’s more, he thinks he’s seeing stars.

Luke slams his laptop shut and it echoes.

He takes a deep breath trying to remember what year it is.

“You good bro?”

Chris mumbles with a furrowed brow, watching sweat glisten against Luke’s flushed cheeks.

“Not feeling well. Think I’m gonna head out. Send me notes later?”

It’s almost an inside joke between the two of them, but Luke laughs a little too hard trying to play it off. He shoves his laptop into his backpack, before slowly weaving through the row and hoping no one noticed his girlfriend’s tits on the blown up screen of his Macbook. But then again, something’s obviously off as he walks stiffly towards the exit, feet swift with no predetermined destination. Luke contemplates the probability of someone interrupting him in the hall bathroom if he goes there to rub one out. His dick is hard and weepy, frustration brimming at the seams of his resolve when he walks out of the lecture hall. Readjusting himself into his waistband and groaning at the pressure, Luke wonders if he can walk home fast enough.

[Video attachment]

He stops in his tracks as he opens your message, the sound of your moans and slick movements of your fingers buried under the damp bottoms of your bikini almost too loud in his Airpods. His dark brown eyes trace the movements of your swiveling hips on his screen and he leans against the wall to groan lowly, a pathetic noise clawing up his throat, until his mouth dries at the sight of you parting the fabric aside just in time for him to watch you cum hard, soaking the rest of your hand and the leather of the couch beneath your ass. Luke doesn’t realize his body’s unprompted decision to join your release until he feels a sticky, uncomfortable warmth pool against the bottom of his shirt, soiled beyond belief.

His head of curls bangs against the wall behind him as he moans.

*bzzz*

A lopsided grin forms on his face when his phone buzzes again in his hand.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎

369 notes · View notes

algea · 29 days

Text

Ghoul School

prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.

Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL

warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!

a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…

*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*

“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.

“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,

“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.

“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.

"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.

"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.

"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.

"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.

"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,

"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."

You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.

"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.

"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.

"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.

"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.

To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.

“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.

“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.

“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.

Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.

“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.

The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.

“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.

You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,

“LARS!!!”

Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.

“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.

Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.

“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,

“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”

Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.

“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.

#ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #james acaster #lars pinfield x you

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eli0004 · 1 month

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Fuck me With Feelings

Pairing: Fwb!Jean Kirstein x reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Jean and reader have been casually fucking, but Jean quickly learns that the whole no strings attached thing isn’t working for him. After confessing to reader, he’s unsatisfied with her response, but neglects to say anything and resumes their meetups as usual. He quickly finds out how badly he misunderstood, when the two of them engage in some very heavy, passionate and emotional sex on the kitchen floor.

Contains: marijuana usage, fem!reader, unprotected sex, fwb arrangement, praise, slight overstimulation, jean talks too much, biting, possessiveness, pining, jean is in love and SO soft for reader, fluffy shit, yk…the usual, no power dynamics.

“Wait…grab me the salt” You speak, lowering the cookbook to look at the tall male standing in front of you.

“Salt.” Jean announces as he sets the small white shaker on the counter beside you. You nod curtly, glancing at him out of the corner of your bleary red eyes with a smile as you turn back to the mixing bowl in front of you. Time is moving in slow motion, and all you can think about is getting some food in your stomach.

“Thanks. Now, it says we’re supposed to pour the mixture into the pan? Wait…shit, aren’t we supposed to butter the pan first?”

The two of you look at each other in shared confusion for a moment, before he begins laughing. You scoff in annoyance, rolling your eyes and shoving the cook book towards him to see for himself.

“Jesus Jean, can you be serious for 5 minutes?” You glare. The sandy-blonde stops laughing and looks at you with an unreadable expression, brown eyes glimmering with mischief before you both erupt in laughter.

As the giggles die out, he pokes at your side, causing you to jump in surprise, before stepping away from the counter.

“Alright alright, out of the way.” He sighs happily, taking the bowl from your hand. “Just leave it to the professional.” He turns up his nose, grinning playfully, as you roll your eyes and groan at his feigned arrogance. You slap his shoulder as you move away from the counter to change the music playing through your kitchen speaker.

It’s a Friday night, and the rain is coming down in sheets, slamming against your windows aggressively. Jean, dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a black oversized hoodie, had come over earlier in the evening as he has so many times before, although this time in particular, different from the rest. His demeanor had seemed slightly off, and it was clear something was on his mind, though he only seemed frustrated when you’d initially prodded.

The two of you had been seeing each other for months in secret, having mutual friends who would tease you both relentlessly if they found out you two were fucking. Because that’s all it was anyway, just harmless fucking. No strings attached, just blowing off steam. There wasn’t any need to announce it, and the both of you would’ve rather kept your business to yourselves anyway.

As time went on, however, Jean found himself hopelessly in love, having accidentally attached all the strings you’d told him to leave unattached. Your twinkling eyes, your sweet smile, the first thought he thinks in the morning, the last one of the night. Unbeknownst to him, the feeling was mutual, and you’d also quickly found yourself wanting to spend more time together outside of the bedroom. Earlier that morning, in a burst of courage Jean had texted you:

“i don’t think i can keep fucking with no feelings. I’m sorry…i just don’t know how to turn them off.”

Without much thought, you typed out a response:

“Ok…fuck me with feelings then. Duh.”

And that was that. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, stomach in knots all day, and a permanent frown etched onto his face. He felt defeated, stupid, for thinking he could stay away from you even if you didn’t feel the same.

The day progressed as usual, Jean arrived at your place 8 PM as usual, the two of you got violently high together as usual. By midnight, hungry and handsy, the two of you ended up in the kitchen trying to follow a recipe for skillet gnocchi, despite your altered cognitive abilities.

“Professional” Jean Kirstein is actually pretty good at cooking when he isn’t stoned out of his mind. But the task at hand is proving to be difficult now. The man stares at the skillet on the stove in confusion as you flip through your Spotify playlist. Recognizing the silence, you turn to him and glance over his shoulder.

“Everything ok over there?” You ask, raising a brow.

“Nothing is happening.” He states, matter of factly.

“Did you turn on the stove?”

“Oh..” He blushes furiously, thick brows pulling together as he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, shit” You immediately burst into laughter, slapping his shoulder a second time, affectionately.

“Wow! So “professional” of you!” You all but shout, doubled over against the counter and clutching your stomach. He rolls his hazy honey brown eyes, unamused at your exploitative jokes.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He grumbles, turning away from you to find the stove dial. You sigh contentedly as your laughter subsides.

“Oh Jeanbo~ you’re so fucking cute…” you hum mindlessly, gazing at him with a dopey smile.

…

Jean freezes. It’s the first time he’s ever really heard you say something like that, and the affection dripping from your words has his stomach fluttering and his mind reeling. It’s unfair, really, and it irritates him. He turns to look at you in surprise, brows furrowed, eyes meeting yours before he looks to the ceiling. His reddened cheeks puff out as he contemplates a response.

“Uh…you mean that?” He asks, suddenly feeling vulnerable. His eyes scan your face for any signs of dishonesty, wondering if you might be playing with his heart to get what you want from him. The way you’ve been speaking to him tonight is so drastically different than how you’ve been treating him for the last few months. Not that you’ve been treating him poorly, you’ve just never been this open about how you feel towards him. Your words feel deliberate and meaningful whereas before you’d only compliment him like that when your eyes were lust-blown and your hands were all over his body.

“Obviously, i thought we established that this morning” you deadpan, head tilting to the side.

“No, not really, i actually had no idea what to make of it.”

There’s a moment of silence as you two stare at each other, before the realization hits and you begin to feel guilty. Had your message not been as clear as you’d initially hoped it would be? Unsure of what to say, you close your mouth. Jean takes your silence as confirmation, and sighs, shoulders slumping dejectedly, quietly turning back to the stove to turn it on.

Thinking for a moment, you frown, drawing shapes on the countertop with eyes cast down like a kicked puppy. Wiggling out of your seat, you approach him where he stands at the stove, gazing up at him with a soft, nearly sympathetic smile. He doesn’t dare look at you, afraid his burning face will betray him, knocking down his mask of fragile-aloofness.

“Jean…” you tilt your head to the side, hair falling over your shoulder. Bringing a hand to his back, you draw slow, gentle circles there. He shivers, but his silence is unwavering. “Baby~ you know something?” You hum.

Jean glances at you and shrugs, tossing some stuff you don’t care to look at into the pan.

“I think you’re so handsome. I think you’re adorable, and goofy, and sweet. I think anyone would be lucky to be the object of your affection. I feel lucky that i get to be…” you coo at him, your hand dipping below his hoodie to scratch his bare back, how he likes it. He can’t help but smile at your words, blinking slowly as he turns to look down at you, your faces only a few inches apart from each other. “Yeah?” He whispers “go on”

You snort, rolling your eyes playfully at his blatant request for praise, and reach out to click the stove off, having a feeling about where this was going to lead.

“You’re funny, you always make me laugh…“ you whisper “You’re strong” squeezing his bicep slightly with your other hand, you rake your eyes down his body. “So sexy~”

The man’s cheeks are impossibly red, his head is spinning and his body feels like it’s burning up as he listens to you sing his praises. He glances down at your lips, nearly nose to nose with you as he grins. “What else?”

You smirk, beckoning him to turn and face you head on and pressing your body against his own. Your hands place themselves on his chest as you murmur “You’re all mine.”

Something feral snaps within him and he all but attacks your lips, pinning your hips against the counter with his own. Your hands scramble to grab onto the fabric of his hoodie, desperately yanking at it as you peel it off of him. Your lips dance together fervently, pressing against each other with such passion, as if he’s worried you’ll slip away from him if he doesn’t hold you tightly enough.

He shoves his hands under your college sweatshirt, running his warm palms over your bare breasts and brushing his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His touch draws a sharp gasp from your mouth against his lips, and he swallows the sound of it.

You lick against his bottom lip and he accepts it urgently, parting his lips and moving his eager tongue in rhythm with your own. Tangling your hands into the roots of his sandy blonde hair, you push your hips forward to grind against his erection and he throbs, soft, sweet groans muffled against your lips.

Jean grips your waist tightly, pulling you against him as he backs himself up against the counter, sliding down to the floor. Pulling you on top of him, he settles you against his lap, tossing his head back when your lips attach to the column of his throat.

“Fuck baby…fuck” he gasps, feeling you sucking bruises into the skin. All visible places, and he knows why. The possessiveness, the feeling of finally belonging to you, it sends waves of intense arousal coursing through his bloodstream. Every movement you make, grinding your hips down against his hard cock sends his mind reeling with pleasure, senses wildly heightened by the pot in your systems.

“Gonna tell everyone that you’re mine baby, i’m so…fuck- happy you’re mine” he groans, guiding your hips to move against. You gasp softly at the friction, becoming increasingly wetter by the minute.

You pull away and quickly shimmy out of your pants, as best as you can while straddling the man’s lap. He brings his fingers down, eyeing the cute panties you wear before yanking them aside to collect your arousal on his fingers.

“Fuck..you’re so wet for me, all for me” he growls as he dips his slick digits into your pussy. His fingers are long, nimble, and curl up deliciously into the spongy spot inside you. You moan softly, feeling every inch of his middle and forefinger in places that your own fingers could never hope to reach.

“Oh god..Jean~ Fuck me” you moan out, rutting against his hand. He slides his fingers out of your hole, rubbing them against your clit and covering it in your own arousal. Tossing your head back, you groan at the loss of internal sensation, but you have no time to be disappointed as you hear him eagerly yanking the waistband of his sweats and underwear down to let his aching cock spring free. He’s leaking more than you’ve ever seen, precum dripping down the slit of his sensitive head and collecting below his navel.

Leaning in for another eager kiss, you swat his hand away and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He’s so deliciously thick, you can almost feel the stretch, the memory of it causing your cunt to throb. Biting his lip gently, you give him a few languid strokes, spreading the sticky precum over the length of him and guiding him to your entrance. His mind is hazy, he jolts as the sensation overwhelms him. You feel different this time, though he can’t pinpoint why.

You slide his tip through the slick folds of your pussy, before enveloping him in your wet warmth. jean nearly chokes on the strangled moan that erupts from his chest as you pull away from the kiss to toss your head back, breathing out a soft “fuck”.

His hands eagerly grip your waist, guiding you up and down on him slow and passionate. The pleasure coursing through him is building quickly in the form of an impending, earth shattering orgasm at the very core of his abdomen. The coil in his tummy, while not unfamiliar, is seemingly more intense than it’s ever been, he won’t last long. Why is he getting close so fast?

Suddenly it occurs to him as you bring your lips back to his own, kissing him passionately, and packed full of raw, unfiltered emotion. He feels wanted, he feels loved, he feels complete. Perhaps it’s the intimacy of having himself sheathed inside of you raw for the first time, it must be. Sex with you has never felt so intense and fulfilling than it does in this moment.

Your hips are moving quicker now as you chase your orgasm, every inch, every ridge, every vein of his length stroking your insides like it was hand crafted to fit there. Feeling your legs tense up, and your stomach begin to tighten, you throw your arms around Jean’s neck and pull him close, biting down on the muscle of his broad shoulder as you cum impossibly hard, eyes rolling back with a loud moan. He snakes his arms around your waist, holding you tightly there as he snaps his hips up into you, slamming into your cervix like his life depends on it. The feeling of your teeth in his skin threatens to push him over the edge.

“Baby! Right there- oh god keep doing that, don’t let go of me!” He rasps against the shell of your ear, and as you sink your teeth in deeper, mewling softly at the overstimulation, Jean cums with such intensity, he thinks he might ascend. More and more spurts out of him, and his body convulses with every rope of it, lurching him forward to moan loudly, muffled into your hair.

The sound of ragged breaths and sharp gasps echo off the kitchen walls as you both come down from the high of your orgasm, bodies tangled together and unmoving. After a minute, Jean’s hand finds itself in your hair, running his fingers through it affectionately. Something he’s wanted to do for a long time. He gazes down at you with adoration replacing old lust, smiling softly as you pull back to look at him.

The two of you stay that way for a minute or two, just panting against each other before he speaks.

“So…uh- does this mean-“ he glances down at the floor and then back up to meet your eyes.

“You’re never gonna get away from me” you grin, plopping down against his chest in exhaustion as you giggle slightly. He bites his lip, excitement bubbling up in him like a little kid, as he holds you tightly.

“Why would i ever wanna?”

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markster666 · 2 months

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KINKTOBER (Except in February) - ALASTOR X READER - DAY #14 (Roleplay)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Kinktober, One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, smut with a little plot, pet names, Dom!Alastor, Sub!Reader, breeding, comedy, roleplay, Alastor is the pizza guy, yes you read that correctly..., etc.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 853

A/N: I really do not know what to do for this one but part of me REALLY wanted to make this partially comedic SO LMFAOOO I CANT STOP LAUGHING IM SORRY LOL Enjoy! I put some more effort into this one than most of the other ones. MDNI, please. Not edited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. NSFW under the cut.

You were laying stomach down on the couch in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, your feet kicking in the air while typing away at your phone, texting your friends and scrolling through social media. You had on a silky black nightgown and your hair was put up in a claw clip. You had just taken an "everything shower" and finally were settling in for the night.

Until you heard a knock on the front entrance doors. You looked up, pretending to be puzzled. You glanced at the clock on the wall, which read close to midnight. Who could POSSIBLY be knocking on those doors at THIS hour?

You slumped off the couch and strutted your way towards the front doors. You pushed your front hairs out of the way as you slowly opened the front door, leaning against the door frame in the most seductive way you can.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

"Yes my Dear, um... Pizza for Y/N?"

Alastor was standing there in a stereotypical pizza bus boy shirt and dress pants. You can't even recall the last time you saw Alastor without at LEAST long sleeve. He had a large pizza box in his hands, which you both knew didn't actually have any pizza in it, and he was wearing a snapback cap with a random pizza place's logo on it.

We'll just go with Pizza Hut.

You raised your eyebrow at him, a little smirk forming on your face. You can tell he was embarassed to be wearing what he was wearing, ears pinned to the sides of his head and his eyes darting around making sure nobody was around the two of you. You almost couldn't contain your laughter but you suppressed it down as well as you could.

You tried to sound as sexy and seductive as you could and your eyes gazed up and down his body.

"Oh my goodness, Sir, thank you so much! Let me grab my wallet real quick."

You pulled out your wallet from your nightgown pocket and started swiping through it. You didn't have any cash (shocker).

"Um... Sir, I don't appear to have cash on me. Do you take card?"

He gave you a faux sympathetic look and shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, my Dear, cash only."

You sighed and rubbed your temples to think. You both knew where this was going already but you tried to play the part as well as you could.

"Well... is there anyway else I can repay you?"

Alastor pretended to think for a second before throwing the pizza box on the ground and grabbing you by the throat, forcing you back into the hotel and slamming the doors shut behind him, pinning you to the wall next to the doors. He took off the snapback cap and threw it super far away.

His lips crashed into yours needily, drinking up your saliva. He removed himself from your mouth, his hand still locked around your throat. His ears were still pinned to his side, trying his best to stay serious to play the role.

"THIS is how you can repay me, my Dear."

He spun you around and quickly freed his cock from his pants. With one hand, he forced your head against the wall and with his other hand, he rode your nightgown up to expose every part of you. He then gripped your hips so you were more bent over for him and proceeded to shove his entire length inside your walls.

You moaned out at the sudden sensation of feeling full. You could tell that his cock was throbbing inside of his pants for awhile before all of this, feeling the wet stain of his pants every time his skin collided with yours. You whimpered at how rough he was pounding you.

He removed his hand pushing your head against the wall and instead gripped your thighs, digging his claws into them as he continued his assault on you. You were a moaning whimpering mess and he was partially angry you made him roleplay LOL.

This went on for a longgg while, until finally, you both felt yourself reaching your climaxes. Your moans got louder and louder and he wrapped his hand around your throat, bringing you up against his chest and whispering sweet little nothings in your ear.

"Such a good girl for me... cum for me my little fawn."

THAT did it for you. You felt the rubber band snap in your stomach, a warm sensation filling your senses and seeing stars. As you rode out your orgasm, he rode out his, releasing his seed inside of you and coating your insides. You both stayed like that for awhile, trying to catch your breathes, before he pulled out of you and put his cock back in his pants, rubbing himself off.

He then gave you a kiss on the temple before turning away and walking out the front doors.

"Thank you for your business my Dear! My name is Alastor, and if you could leave me 5 stars on Yelp then I would be eternally grateful!"

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

TAG LIST (Comment Below if you'd like to be added!/If I missed you I apologize):

@smallershorteranduncut @persephoneblck @freekyfangirl @danveration @daisybelldarling @your-excellenc-z21 @aestheticgals-blog @naewasnothere @bontensbabygirl @amara-ishigami @strawberrypimpsimp @mneferta @deathnoteeee @lady-valtieri @itz-yue @alastorsfawn @thatdeadstoat @harmfulb1tch @no1sillybilly @ohbother2 @vee3-vox @alexandria-fandom @loratadina-makesmewanttocry @stargirlplanet @lbcreations-blog @depresoecspreso @dndmaniac @polytheatrix @transparentwizardmentality @the-lake-is-calling @randompersonidks-blog @ellezahen (won't let me tag you) @jyoongim @laundrybear413 @nega-omega @sageminty17 @lunaramune @heartsbutterfly @kaiandersonsbitch @a-jazzy-bee @my-divine-goddess000 @chewbrry @depresoecspreso @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @go-to-nerdytrashishere @creepylilneko @a-jazzy-bee @chewbrry @dievia3 @shotthrewtheheart @sunshinelulusplatoon @alon3lylov3r (won't let me tag you for some reason), @prosciuttosblog @casuallynotthirsty (you either rip), @lemonyboy97 @your-friendly-sociopath @motheroffoxesminerals (won't let me tag you for some reason), @alastorsgoldie @lowkeyhottho @unadulteratednachowolf @jadeddangel @livelaughfrontallobe @jyoongim @yourpersonalbabygirl @imasimpforhazbinhotelmen

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor #18+ only #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #shameless smut #markster666 #mdni #hazbin hotel spoilers #18+ mdni

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blueskrugs · 3 months

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Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under | Nico Hischier

no thoughts, just vibes and fuck boy nico I'm considering this my honorary entry into demi @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange because I didn't trust myself to finish an actual entry in time but managed anyway (technically, this took me 10 months to finish) enjoy! length: 5.6k words

It’s dark in the club where Nico Hischier presses himself along Hailey’s back for the first time. She lets it happen, barely one drink in and looking for a good time. It’s dark, lit up by the glow of neon, when the man leans close and asks if he can buy Hailey a drink, hands on her hips as they continue to dance. She doesn’t realize who he is then, but he’s a decent dancer. It doesn’t seem important at the moment.

It’s dark as they stumble outside a few drinks and a few kisses later, a car already called and waiting for them at the curb. Hailey doesn’t remember when she caught his name, in between kisses pressed to her bare shoulders, her neck, but she knows he’s Nico now, soft-spoken with an accent Hailey can’t place.

“I don’t usually do this,” Hailey admits as she slides into the backseat. Nico doesn’t say anything as he slides in next to her, but he keeps his hand on Hailey’s thigh the whole drive back to his place.

It’s dark in Nico’s apartment, too, only a few lights left on before he went out for the night. It doesn’t matter much, anyway. They don’t stop in the kitchen, or the living room. It’s only the middle of October, and there are no outer layers to shed as they stumble down the hallway, though Hailey shivers every time Nico’s hands brush her bare skin.

“I didn’t catch your name earlier,” he says, breaking the kiss.

“Hailey,” she gasps. She shivers again as his stubble scratches against her skin.

“Hailey, I like that,” he says. Hailey refrains from rolling her eyes. Barely. Her name does sound nice in his accent, she admits to herself.

Neither of them are drunk, not really, but the room seems blurry around the edges as Nico presses her into his sheets.

An alarm is blaring, too loud, too early. Hailey groans and shoves her face into her pillow before reaching to slap at her phone to snooze that awful alarm. Her phone isn’t on the nightstand beside her where it should be, and Hailey starts to sit up, confused. It’s not until she hears someone swear softly, in a language she doesn’t recognize, that she remembers she’s not in her own bed. She bolts upright.

Nico’s sitting up beside her, shirtless and his hair a disaster. Hailey doesn’t fully remember how she ended up sleeping in one of Nico’s T-shirts, but she’s thankful for it now, though she still pulls the sheet up across her chest as she sits up next to Nico. For his part, he looks apologetic for the rude awakening.

Nico swears again. “I’m sorry, I forgot I have—work this morning.”

“What kind of job do you have that makes you work at—” Hailey squints at the digital clock on Nico’s side of the bed. “9 on a Saturday morning?”

Nico doesn’t answer, but he shoots Hailey a rueful smile as he rolls out of bed.

Hailey vaguely remembers being offered a washcloth to wipe off her makeup and generally clean up with, but she still feels crusty. Her eyes itch from sleeping with her contacts in. She heaves a sigh and throws back the sheets to get out of bed. She finds her clothes strewn about the room and reluctantly pulls them back on. Her phone landed somewhere on the floor, too, and she picks it up. Almost dead.

Hailey manages to call an Uber and scrape her hair into a ponytail before Nico re-emerges from his bathroom. She’s already lingered too long. This isn’t the type of hookup where they sit and have coffee over breakfast. Hailey shouldn’t have even stayed the night.

“I should—” Hailey starts, as Nico says, “I can walk you out.” “Oh, uh, sure,” she says.

Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t quite remember all the steps and turns they took last night to get to Nico’s apartment. So she follows Nico back through his apartment, out the front door, down the hallway to the elevators. They stand in awkward silence.

“My Uber should be here soon,” Hailey offers. She shifts nervously.

“Good, that’s great,” Nico says.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. There’s already someone on, a boy probably around their age. Hailey starts to step forward, but Nico grabs her by the elbow.

“We can wait for the next one,” he says firmly. Hailey looks back at the boy on the elevator as the doors begin to shut. He raises his eyebrows at them, and Hailey thinks she hears him laugh as the elevator starts to descend again. Nico jams the down button again.

“Did you know him?” Hailey asks.

“He’s, uh, a friend.” Nico says. Hailey raises an eyebrow at him. “You don’t need to meet him, I promise.”

Hailey isn’t about to argue. This walk of shame is already bad enough.

Nico walks Hailey all the way out the front door of his apartment building. Hailey’s Uber is idling at the curb, and they go their separate ways. Hailey doesn’t look back as she slides into the backseat of her car; she’s not expecting to ever see Nico again.

There’s a phone charger plugged in the backseat of the car, and Hailey plugs her phone in gratefully. She swipes through her missed notifications quickly until one catches her eye from ESPN: Nico Hischier scores goal, assist in Devils win.

Oh, fuck.

Hailey puts it out of her mind. Or tries to, at least. She doesn’t actually follow the Devils that closely—she only has the ESPN app on her phone at all to keep up in conversation with the boys in her family about the Giants. Besides, she doesn’t exactly frequent any of the bars in Jersey. She should forget about Nico—his accent when he whispered her name, the way his bracelets brushed her skin when he touched her. He’d probably forgotten about her, by now, anyway.

It’s a few months before Hailey runs into Nico again, at another bar. He spots her first, at a table with her friends. Hailey doesn’t notice him at first, not until one of her friends nudges her with her beer bottle.

“Who’s the guy over there that can’t stop staring at you?” Beth asks.

Hailey follows her gaze across the bar, to a rowdy group of guys she’d been trying to ignore all night. She doesn’t spot who Beth is asking about at first, but then she catches the eye of one of them. She wishes she could hide, but she knows Nico’s already seen her. Has been watching her.

“Shit,” Hailey says. “I hooked up with him once, like in October.”

It’s December now. There was another time, a few weeks after that first hookup—and only hookup, if Hailey has anything to say about it—that she’d run into Nico again in another dark bar, where he’d bought her another few drinks. They didn’t even make it out of the bar that time, though; Nico had dragged Hailey into a corner and pinned her against the wall, behind an empty booth to make out.

Nico had torn away from the kiss to press a line of kisses down Hailey’s neck. His stubble burned Hailey’s skin as he went.

“Hannah,” Nico had murmured, so quiet Hailey wasn’t even sure she’d heard him at first, but then he said it again. “Hannah, you wanna get out of here?” Hailey had shoved at Nico’s shoulders so hard he’d stumbled backwards, looking confused. There had been a moment before Nico’s face had cleared in realization. “Shit, Hailey, I—”

“Get your own fucking ride home,” she had spit, storming through the crowded bar and out the front door without looking back.

She’s been trying to forget that night since then. She wonders if Nico’s forgotten it, too.

Hailey knows Nico spent a lot of the time in between October and now out with an injury. She refuses to examine exactly why she knows that as someone who “really doesn’t watch hockey” too closely right now.

Several of her friends raise their eyebrows at her.

“What, he was hot, sue me,” Hailey says. It doesn’t quell the looks she’s getting. She drains the last of her drink. She glances back at Nico. He’s gotten roped back into whatever conversation is happening with his friends—his teammates, probably, Hailey realizes belatedly—so it might be safe to venture over to the bar and get another.

Hailey is leaning on the bar, waiting for the bartender, when she feels someone come up behind her. The bartender looks their way.

“Her next one is on me,” a familiar voice says. Hailey glances over her shoulder for the first time. Nico is there, close enough that Hailey can feel his body heat. "Hailey," he says. He leans even closer. “Haven’t seen you around.”

Hailey ignores him for a moment to turn back to the bartender with her order. Tries to collect herself.

“Didn’t realize you were looking,” she says.

Nico grins at her, a little crookedly. “I’ve been—”

“Busy,” Hailey finishes. With hockey, with other girls, she doesn’t add. She thinks Nico gets it anyway.

The bartender slides Hailey her drink. She turns around, but Nico doesn’t step back.

“Listen,” Nico starts. Hailey looks over his shoulder, towards the group of guys he was with before. A few of them are already looking in their direction. Hailey meets Nico’s eyes again. “How about—” Hailey cuts him off. “No, you listen,” she says. “I’m here with my friends, you’re out with yours. I’m not looking for anything tonight, Nico, and I don’t think you should be abandoning your friends to leave with me.”

“Eh, they’d be fine without me,” Nico defends mildly, but he takes a step back, unpinning Hailey from the bar. “Next time?” he asks.

Hailey hopes there isn’t another next time. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she says. She doesn’t wait to hear if he answers, just brushes past him on her way back to her friends.

Hailey’s friends don’t try to hide the fact that they’d been watching the whole exchange. Hailey slides back into her seat next to Beth.

“We can never come back to this bar,” she says.

The next time Hailey runs into Nico Hischier isn’t at a bar at all.

Hailey’s walking out to her car after a rec league softball game when she hears someone call her name—an accent she wishes wasn’t so familiar echoing across the half-empty parking lot. Hailey turns towards the voice—Nico’s voice—as she tugs the elastic out of the end of her braid, shaking out her sweaty hair. Nico’s jogging across the parking lot towards Hailey.

“Hailey, hey,” he says as he gets closer.

“Are you stalking me now, Hischier?” Hailey asks.

“You played well out there tonight,” Nico says earnestly, completely ignoring Hailey’s question.

Hailey shrugs. It’s a competitive league, but at the end of the day it’s still a recreational league for a bunch of washed up college athletes. Hits and stolen bases don’t really matter anymore.

“How’d you know I would be here?” Hailey asks.

“Uh, I didn’t,” Nico says quickly. “Your organization, they partner with Eric LeGrand for charity stuff, and the Devils worked with LeGrand a few seasons back, and I stopped in for coffee today after practice, and he mentioned something about the rec sports—” Nico’s rambling, and Hailey realizes he’s nervous. Nico continues. “I was bored and had the night off when I looked it up I saw a game tonight and—”

Hailey takes pity on him and cuts him off. “And then you got here and saw me playing.”

“Yeah,” Nico says lamely. He seems to recover from his awkwardness and grins at Hailey, flashing his dimples. “Are you doing anything else tonight?” he asks.

Hailey regards her own dirty pants, her janky Crocs. She probably smeared her eye black with sweat, too. Not exactly the picture of beauty. “Do those dimples usually work for you?” she asks instead of voicing any of those thoughts.

Nico takes a step closer to Hailey. The strap of her gear bag is digging into her shoulder, and she steps back under the guise of shifting it to her other shoulder.

“I seem to remember them working on you before,” Nico says.

They’re working on Hailey this time, too, but she’s not willing to admit that right now. “I’ve got work in the morning, and I’m sure you do, too.”

Nico shrugs. Doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Hailey with his eyebrows raised.

Hailey gives in. “Fine.” She tries to ignore Nico’s triumphant smile. “But we’re going to mine.”

It’s Nico’s turn for the walk of shame this time. If he’s even capable of being shamed, that is.

Nico looks like he might argue, but he says, “Okay. But you’re going to have to give me your address first. Y’know, so I don’t get lost.” He holds out his hand expectantly, waiting for Hailey to give him her phone. There was a reason they never exchanged phone numbers the first time they hooked up. There was also a reason why there was never supposed to be a second hook-up. Hailey disregards both of those reasons as she unlocks her phone and passes it to Nico.

Somehow, Nico beats Hailey back to her apartment complex. He’s leaning against the driver’s door of his car, face lit up by the glow of his phone screen, but he locks it and shoves it in his pocket when she pulls into the spot next to him and climbs out of her car.

“Here, let me,” Nico says, trying to reach for Hailey’s softball bag.

Hailey shoots him a look and shifts her bag to her other shoulder, away from Nico. “I think I can handle it, thanks.”

Nico huffs but follows Hailey the rest of the way up to her unit in silence.

Hailey’s apartment isn’t as swanky as Nico’s—or as clean, Hailey thinks absently, as she dumps her bag—but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Do you need a Gatorade or something?” Nico asks.

He looks out of place in Hailey’s little apartment, with her hand-me-down couch and Facebook Marketplace kitchen table. Hailey can’t help but laugh.

“Are you this nice to all of your hook-ups?” she asks.

Nico shrugs, looking a little put out. “I mean, I guess?”

Hailey laughs a little again. “It’s cute, you’re cute.”

Nico scoffs. “Cute?” He takes a step closer to Hailey, close enough to slide his hands around her hips. “Just cute?”

Hailey pretends to think about it, but Nico is kissing her before she can respond.

Hailey knows that something has shifted before Nico rolls off of her, before she slips out of bed to take a shower. Nico’s still wrapped up in her sheets when she emerges thirty minutes later, shirtless and scrolling through his phone again. Hailey pauses at the end of her bed.

“Don’t you have to be up early in the morning?” she asks. Hailey has work, too, but she expected Nico to ditch her while she was in the shower. Instead, he stretches lazily, dropping his phone to his chest. “Mmm, probably,” he says. He shows no signs of getting up any time soon. Hailey gives up and slides back into bed beside him.

“Probably?” Hailey echoes.

She resists the urge to poke at his ribs, exposed with one of his arms carelessly stretched over his head, or to trace his collarbone until she reaches the crucifix on his chain, tug on it until he comes over and kisses her again. There’s a tattoo on his arm, bold, black looping lines that cover most of the inside of his left bicep. Hailey gives in and reaches out to trace them with her fingertip. Nico twitches but doesn’t pull his arm away.

Nico goes on. “We have film review in the morning, but skate’s optional.” He trails off.

“Which means…?” Hailey prods.

Nico does roll over, then, bracing himself on his hands above Hailey. She tilts her chin to meet Nico's eyes. He smirks at her.

“It means I don’t have to be ready to go work out, and I’ll still have time for a nap before our game tomorrow night. I don’t have to rush out of here.”

Hailey fumbles for her phone in the sheets and glances at the time. It’s creeping towards midnight. She stalls, scrolling around until she finds her morning alarm for work. The one where she can be a little lazy with her morning routine and still make it out the door on time. She tosses her phone aside.

Nico’s watching her carefully, brown eyes somewhere between serious and teasing.

“Well, some of us have to work normal jobs in the morning.”

“What, it’s not like you need any beauty sleep,” Nico says. He leans in for a kiss, and Hailey tilts her chin up again to let him. The kiss nearly gets away from her before she remembers she’s supposed to be awake again in six hours. She pulls away, albeit reluctantly.

“I don’t think I have any NHL approved breakfast foods in my fridge for you,” Hailey says carefully. An offer to stay and an excuse for Nico to leave all in one. “Just a bunch of frozen waffles and frozen breakfast sandwiches.”

Nico shrugs. “There’s always breakfast at the rink.”

Hailey scoffs. “Must be such a difficult life, being a professional athlete.”

Nico doesn’t retort, though he does roll his eyes and kiss Hailey quiet. She grabs at his bicep, presses her thumb into the tattoo there. Hailey turns her head.

“What is this?” she asks. Her finger follows one of the lines again.

“A tattoo,” Nico says. He brushes his hand over Hailey’s ribs, her hip, where she has tattoos of her own. She shivers. “I know you’ve seen them before.” At Hailey’s flat look, he smiles. “They’re the zodiac signs of me and my family,” he says.

“That’s really sweet,” Hailey tells him. It's surprising, somehow, but Hailey guesses she hardly knows Nico at all.

Nico grins at her again, flashing those damn dimples. Hailey has to kiss him about it, feeling desperate with it, like she might never get to do it again. Nico gentles her, a hand on Hailey's jaw. They kiss, slow and lazy, until Hailey yawns into Nico’s mouth. He pulls away with a chuckle.

“I should let you get some sleep,” he says. He rolls off Hailey again. He picks up his phone and checks the time, grimaces. “Do you know how far you live from Prudential Center, by any chance?”

Hailey doesn’t think she’s ever seen the Devils play in person. “Grew up a Rangers fan,” she murmurs, already halfway to sleep.

Nico slides out of bed, starts searching for his clothes. Hailey thinks she dreams him brushing a kiss across her forehead as he slips out of her room.

It’s a few weeks later, and Hailey and Nico are walking out of his apartment on a rainy Saturday morning. The elevator dings just as Nico swears and pats down his pockets.

“I forgot my phone,” he says. He glances at the elevator. “I’ll, uh, meet you downstairs,” he tells Hailey. He looks back at the elevator, and says, to the guy holding the door for Hailey and looking amused, “Play nice.” Nico retreats back down the hall, and Hailey steps onto the elevator, bemused.

The guy in the elevator speaks up first. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hisch repeat before.”

Hailey feels her cheeks burn. Nico had texted last night, early enough that Hailey wasn’t in bed, late enough that she was under no illusions about his intentions. And yet, she dragged herself off of her couch and into slightly-more-respectable pants, all the way to Nico’s apartment in Jersey City.

Hailey realizes something. “You were the one we saw on the elevator that one time.”

The boy grins at her and sticks out a hand. “Jack,” he says. “I mean it, though,” he continues, “must be pretty special to get Hisch to come back for seconds.”

They’ve reached the ground floor, and the elevator doors slide open. “Thirds,” she says without thinking. Four times, actually, if you count that time Hailey rejected Nico in the bar. Five times, if you count the one where Nico called Hailey the wrong name.

Jack whistles. “Our boy must be down bad.” Hailey laughs. “It’s definitely not like that—” She’s interrupted by—saved by? —Nico appearing out of the emergency stairwell nearby. She shuts her mouth and hopes her face isn’t still too red.

Nico looks between Jack and Hailey suspiciously. “What’d you say to her?” he asks Jack.

Jack laughs awkwardly. “Nothing, nothing, Nico, c’mon.”

Nico continues to regard them warily. “Jack—” Nico starts, but he, too, is interrupted by a fourth person joining their little conversational triangle.

“You two are going to make us late, and Lindy’ll—oh.” The new boy stops when he notices Hailey standing between Jack and Nico. The look on his face turns sly. “Sorry, Hisch, didn’t realize you were doing something.” Jack makes a noise of protest. “Hey, how do you know she didn’t sleep with me?” he asks. “Dude, I live with you, of course I know you didn’t bring a girl home—” They walk away, still arguing.

Hailey blinks after them, confused.

“That was Luke, Jack’s little brother,” Nico supplies, watching them head towards the front door of their building. “I’m sorry on their behalf.” Nico checks the time on his phone and grimaces. “Luke was right, though, we really are going to be late.” They start walking towards the front door, where Luke and Jack are impatiently waiting. Nico presses a quick kiss to Hailey’s cheek as they part ways.

Jack’s words from the elevator rattle around Hailey’s head as she walks to her car, as she drives home. Our boy must be down bad. Is that what this had become? Hailey didn’t know the last time she’d had a hookup stick around and make her breakfast in the morning—even if he had somehow managed to burn the toast—let alone keep coming back for more. When Hailey parks in front of her building, she has a Venmo notification—from Nico: for coffee x. There’s a coffee emoji, too, because Nico’s a dork like that. Hailey smiles down at her phone; they’d been lazy about getting out of bed, until Nico was rushing out the door, and they had to leave their coffees to go cold, mostly untouched.

Hailey’s cheek burns again with the phantom sensation of Nico’s lips, the ghost of his kiss goodbye.

It’s a few days before Hailey sees Nico again. On another night off for the Devils, Nico appears at Hailey’s door with a heads-up “On my way. :)” text and takeout. He kisses Hailey hello, a chaste peck as he steps through her doorway.

“What’s all this for?” Hailey asks, watching as Nico dumps several bags of food on her little kitchen table. She trails after him, curious. “Smells good,” she adds.

Nico grins at her as he starts unpacking the bags. “Wanted to see you,” he says, like it’s simple, like hanging out is just a thing that they do. He goes on, “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a little of everything.”

Everything indeed, Hailey thinks, surveying her table—it looks like Italian, sandwiches and salads and pastas and what could be arancini. She picks up one of the discarded bags and reads the restaurant’s name.

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to try this place.” It’s just a few blocks away from her apartment. “Always felt too pathetic to order takeout for one,” she says.

Nico chuckles. “Well, I guess I helped you out then.” He grins up at Hailey, who’s still standing beside the table. “C’mon, sit, we’ve got a lot to eat.”

Hailey sits obediently, across from Nico. Nico had managed to find Hailey’s plates, as well, and Hailey begins to fill hers with a little of everything.

“How much of all of this,” Hailey gestures broadly at her overflowing table, “is on an NHL player’s diet plan?” she asks.

Nico looks sheepishly down at his own full plate. “Not much,” he admits.

Hailey suddenly remembers something she’d seen on Twitter a few days before. She nudges Nico with her foot under the table; he immediately traps her ankle between both of his.

“Happy belated birthday, by the way,” she tells him. A look that Hailey can’t read crosses Nico’s face, but it’s gone just as soon as it appeared. “Had a pretty good game the night before, too, I hear.”

“You watched our game?”

Hailey finds herself blushing. “Saw some of it,” she says. She had thought about texting Nico, both about his three point night and his birthday, but she had chickened out. Thought it might be too earnest for a semi-regular hookup.

“I thought you were a Rangers fan,” Nico teases.

Hailey kicks him with her other foot.

Nico keeps their dinner conversation steered carefully clear of hockey talk after that. They slowly work their way through some of the piles of food Nico brought over. Hailey thinks she’s going to be eating leftovers all week, regardless.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Nico asks suddenly during a lull in their conversation.

Hailey swallows her bite of pasta uncertainly. “Uh, sure?”

“Why softball?” “What do you mean, ‘why softball?’” Hailey echoes. She goes on before letting Nico clarify. “I’ve been playing softball forever. I used to toddle around at my older brothers’ tee ball games, trying to take a swing at every baseball I could find.” Nico laughs a little at that. “I ended up playing all the way through college. A lot of my friends were pretty beaten up or burnt out by the time we graduated, but I never really lost the love I had for the game, y’know?”

Nico nods but doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, we never, like, won the College World Series or anything, but I liked going out there and playing all the time. When I left college ball behind and started my big girl job, I guess I was feeling kinda lost. Someone told me that New Jersey Play Sports had a competitive division for washed up athletes, it gave me a team again, a reason to get out of my apartment and get active.” She pauses, assesses Nico. He’s watching her intently. “Plus, some of the former college baseball players are kinda hot.” Nico flushes bright red, and Hailey smirks at him. She had actually slept with one of them once, but that had been long before Nico. Nico clears his throat.

“I get that—the, the team part, I mean. I think I’d be pretty lost without hockey.” Nico takes a pensive drink of his wine. “And I don’t think you’re washed up, you looked pretty good when I saw you play.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just looking at my ass in my softball pants?” she teases.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Nico says, holding his hands up in defense. “Maybe a little,” he admits.

Hailey heaves a sigh. They’ve barely made a dent in all of their food, but she doesn’t think she can eat another bite. “I think it’s time to clean up all this fuckin’ food,” she says, pushing her chair back and standing.

Nico stands, too. “Here, let me help.” He reaches for Hailey’s plate, but she holds it out of his reach.

“No way, buddy. You brought the food, I clean, that’s how this works.” Nico makes a face at Hailey, but he hands his plate over. Hailey makes a shooing motion with her hand. “Go find us something to watch on Netflix, or something.”

Nico trails after Hailey as she steps over to her sink. “Oh, are you trying to Netflix and chill me now?” Nico asks, voice low.

Nico places his hands on Hailey’s hips and crowds close behind her, pinning her to the counter. Hailey tries not to shiver. He presses a kiss to her cheek, then her neck, then to her shoulder. He keeps his face there, buried in her neck.

“I think we’re way past that, Hisch,” she tells him. Her voice comes out mostly normal. Nico releases Hailey, but not without one last kiss on the cheek.

With the food all stashed in the fridge and dishes done, Hailey wanders back into her little living room to see what Nico’s found to watch. He looks ridiculous lounging on her shitty hand-me-down couch, one of his socked feet hanging over the arm of the couch. He looks away from the TV to smile at Hailey as she walks over.

She can’t resist bending down to give him a quick kiss.

“Bathroom break,” she tells him, tossing her phone down on the cushion next to him. “Be right back.”

While Hailey is in the bathroom, her phone vibrates. Nico digs it out from where it had slid underneath his thigh, intending to set it on the coffee table instead. It vibrates again, then once more, before Nico has the chance to set it back down. Nico glances at the screen. Three new text messages, all from someone named Connor. Hailey has her message previews off, so Nico stares at the three little iMessage notifications until her screen goes dark.

Hailey reemerges from her bathroom.

“Nico?” she says softly. “Is that my phone?” Nico doesn’t release his white-knuckled grip on her phone. Hailey steps into his line of sight, crouches down in front of him when he doesn’t move. “Nics? Did something happen?” she asks.

Nico manages to say, “You got a few texts.”

Hailey eyes her phone. Nico still hasn’t set it down. “Okay?”

“Why don’t you have your message previews on?”

She’d had to turn them off when Nico had tried—quite badly—to sext her one night while he was bored on the road in December. She doesn’t say that, though.

“Because apparently the guy I’m fucking is nosy as hell.” Nico inhales quickly through his nose. Hailey pries her phone out of Nico’s grip, barely glancing at it before setting it aside. She’s feeling defensive now, though she still doesn’t understand why Nico suddenly got so upset.

“I didn’t realize you were sleeping with someone else,” Nico says stiffly.

Hailey blinks up at him. “What?” she asks. Then says, “I’m not, what the hell?”

Nico crosses his arms, frowning. “Who’s Connor, then?” His eyebrows, always so expressive, are drawn together. Hailey resists the urge to poke them.

Hailey crosses her arms, too, mirroring Nico instead. “What makes you think that’s any of your business?” Nico opens his mouth to argue, but Hailey barrels on. “And what makes you think you can judge me if I were sleeping around, anyway? Jack told me how you’re always bringing home different girls, never sleeping with the same one twice. Or how I literally saw you leave the bar with another girl the night I turned you down in October?”

Nico, somehow, frowns harder. He’d been trying to fend off Jack and Luke’s teasing for weeks; he’d lost count of the number of times he’d told them this thing with Hailey was just casual, just another hook-up, even though the rest of his regular picking up and hooking up had fallen by the wayside. Hailey watches him in silence as he struggles to organize his thoughts and respond.

“I— I haven’t slept with anyone else in—” He breathes out a harsh breath. “A month? Two?” The days all blur together during hockey season. They’d started to turn into: day off, game day, or a day he could see Hailey again.

Hailey’s face softens. “And Connor’s my brother, you dumbass.” Nico gapes at Hailey. She shrugs and pushes to her feet. Nico grabs at her wrist and tugs until she topples onto the couch, half on top of him. “Think you’ve got a little jealousy problem there, Cap,” she teases.

She likes the way Nico blushes and tries to hide his face in her neck, even though he scoffs.

“I’m not— I wasn’t jealous, I was just—” He trails off.

Hailey rests her head on Nico’s shoulder. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

Nico pinches at the skin above her hip, but he goes quiet for a moment. “I think—” He tries to collect his thoughts. “I think I was worried I’m more invested in this than you.”

Hailey cranes her neck to look into Nico’s face. He’s resolutely looking at a spot over her shoulder, towards the neglected Netflix screen. She pokes him in the cheek, right where one of his dimples is. He blinks and looks down at her.

“And what is ‘this,’ exactly, Nico?” she asks.

“I really like you,” Nico says. He doesn’t look away from Hailey this time.

She thinks about Jack Hughes telling her Nico was “down bad” in the elevator, Hailey grins at him. “I know,” she says.

“What?” Nico asks. He looks a little alarmed. “What do you mean, you know?”

“Jack told me,” Hailey says. “Something about never coming back for seconds?”

Nico swears. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Hey, Hisch?” She waits until Nico meets her eyes again. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, because I really like you, too.”

Nico, somehow, looks surprised. “Really?” he asks.

Hailey pulls him in for a kiss, slow and sweet. “Yes, really, Nico. You are definitely the only guy I’ve hooked up with in—longer than I’d care to admit, actually.”

Nico chuckles and pulls Hailey in for another kiss. They never do end up watching what Nico had picked out on Netflix.

#cait writes things #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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dearharriet · 2 months

Note

hello! Congratulations on reaching 150 followers milestone! Really deserved, girly!

Can I get a🍸with Remus Lupin + Lovers Rock? Thank you so much!

hi!! i’m so sorry this took me so long my love, i’ve had the busiest weekend 😭 thank you sm for the request, i hope you like it! <3 (wc: 859) (cw: implied/attempted use of a roofie/date-rape drug)

If you were less drunk, you’d be abashed about flirting so openly in front of Remus, but you’re not. He’s watching you lean into the man’s advances from the bar booth you’re both sitting in, a mean look brewing behind his eyes. You’re praying to god it’s jealousy. At least then he’d feel something for you.

“Real pretty get-up you’ve got on, babe,” the guy is saying, and you’re just sober enough to know he’s staring at your chest as he says it.

“Looks even better on the floor,” you tell him. It’s a cheap response, but he perks up anyway. Remus spins his beer on the sticky booth table, sighing irritably.

The stranger has a silky smooth voice, one that seems to smooth over other, less admirable traits in your mind. He says, “I can make that happen,” and you hear a promise, not a boast. You also don’t notice in his towering over you that he’s tampering with your drink.

Remus isn’t nearly as entranced. He’s on his feet in a second, whipping the man away from you by the collar of his button-up shirt.

“Hey—?”

Cutting him off with a vicious shove, Remus bites, “fuck off out of here. I know what you are.”

You stand then on wobbly legs, approaching the growing scene. Remus was clearly jealous, but you never assumed he was the violent type. He looks ready to crack teeth at this point, and the man still hasn’t left.

“Remus, what—?”

He turns to you with wild eyes, holding up a hand to keep you at bay.

“You stay there,” he says, and the anger he held for the man has ebbed away. He points to your cocktail on the table. “Don’t drink that, okay?”

Blinking, you frown at him. Something about his behavior makes you uneasy, but he’s your friend. You’d trust him over any stranger.

“Hey,” he snaps, demanding your hazy attention. “Did you hear me? Don’t—”

“Don’t drink it.” You nod.

From there all you can do is watch him shred the poor guy apart until Sirius and James finally notice something is wrong from their place at the bar. By then you have a pretty good idea what happened, and you feel sick to your stomach thinking about it.

James keeps you company while Sirius and Remus get the guy thrown out on his ass, and then they both reconvene at your shared booth. Most of the girls have come to see what happened, too, but Remus shooes most everyone away.

“Fucking pig,” Marlene mumbles, petting your hair gently before leaving a small kiss there. She looks to one of the boys, though you’re too busy picking at your nails to know which one. “I can make sure she gets home?”

“I’ve got her,” he replies, and you’d know Remus’ voice anywhere.

Marlene and the other two boys seem to accept this fact easily, though Sirius stops Remus before leaving.

“Go easy, yeah?” he says. “It wasn’t her fault.”

Remus doesn’t reply, but when he takes James’ place beside you his eyes are much calmer than before.

“Hi, dovey.” His hand comes up to rub your back. “You ready to go home?”

Sniffing, you nod slowly, still quite drunk and lethargic. Remus helps you out of the booth, carting you to the door with careful touches.

“It’s okay, Remus,” you assert, feeling more embarrassed by everyone’s worrying than anything now. “You’re not going to hurt me. I’m fine.”

Remus looks down at you with conflict coating his features.

“That was really close, Y/N. I almost didn’t see him do it.”

“But you did,” you correct. “And thank you, by the way.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. Not for that.”

Pushing the bar door open, he ushers you out into the mild night. It’s not cold, but his arm slung protectively over your shoulders is a relief anyways. Outside the safety of the bar, the man might be lurking somewhere. The thought makes you curl further into Remus, shivering.

“Remus?”

You can tell he’s in the same line of thought as you, because his head is on a swivel, checking behind you periodically. He hums in response to your question.

“If we’re going to my place, would you stay with me? In case he’s following us.”

You’d like to tell yourself the man wouldn’t, but you’re not sure you can put anything past him. Again, Remus appears to think the same.

“‘Course. I'll probably sleep better that way, anyways.”

In your drunken mood, you can’t help the way your heart squeezes at Remus’ doting. It’s a fiery feeling, to be cared for as if you’re an extension of himself, to have witnessed the sharpness of his affection in real time. It’s the barest human decency, but you suspect it was rooted in a much more complex emotion. Or perhaps that’s wishful thinking.

“Okay,” is what you finally say, flagging your thoughts for a later date, when less pressing matters than your safety are on the table. For tonight, it’s enough to let Remus walk you home, and to fall asleep under the warm blanket of his protection.

thank you for reading! xx

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ornii · 6 months

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Hey, don't know if it didn't delivered and/or you have done this before but.. Can we get some Hc's were (male)reader who's a werewolf like Enid and they both go into heat...?

I wasn’t able to work on the other one but I did get it! Been trying other content but I’ll finally get a chance to work on this one. Smut Warning.

Désir brûlant

Enid Sinclair X Male Reader, Smut ahead! Beware!

Being w Werewolf has It’s ups and downs, having Super strength, animal like instincts, the ability to transform into a massive hulking wolf man. Plus finding a mate was easy, they tend to pair off for life. But, there was one major drawback to this seemingly nice life.

Heat, very bad heat.

Heat cycles exist in Animals, and since werewolves are half human, half animal, it only stands that you’d have them as well. And that you did, this overbearing lust and emotional outbursts you’d have all due to the mixture of heritage. This year was no different so straying from girls was a must to avoid coming off as a creep, unfortunately there was one girl who was drawn to all things Creepy. Wednesday Addams.

Sitting in the back corner of the cafe, your pencil traced along the notepad for your Lycanthropy Homework, it’s usually child’s play for you, but something kept shoving its way into the focus of your mind. The notes began to fade and your mind wandered to the sense of touch, holding, touching, which quickly delves into intense, wild, bed breaking sex with, her.. you close your eyes and let instinct take over, it was all darkness. Until puffy blonde hair appears, beautiful emerald green eyes like a lush plane of emeralds, her face was unmistakable, it was Enid.

“(Y/n).” Your eyes shoot open to the sound of speien calling your name, you look up and a dark shroud darkens you. It was none other than Wednesday herself.

“Wednesday, I smelled black roses but, Nevermind. What’s up sunshine?” You Mutter. You met Wedensday by Proxy of Enid when she first darkened the Nevermore gates.

“I need your help with an.. issue.” She says, and sinks into the seat across from you. You casually place your pencil down.

“Look, depending on the size of the body, I can’t digest that much, it’s really bad for you.” You casually explain, Wedensday’s face was obviously a mix of conduit, but she cuts you off.

“That’s not why I’m here— let’s put a pin in that for later. This doesn’t require murder, yet.” She said, you lean back, gently covering your nose. Wednesday scowls a bit.

“Why are you covering you nose? Are you trying to imply something?” She said with her casual accusing tone.

“No, it’s just your… pheromones.” You can’t even look her in the eye, “I don’t want to end up drooling in front of you.” You admit.

“Humorous.” She replies deadpanned, “But this isn’t the first time, it concerns Enid.” She looks a bit, uncomfortable. Pushing your instincts down you wipe your mouth and look at her.

“Is something wrong? Is she okay?” You ask.

“She’s, different… making odd noises in the late night, I suspected her to be “Wolfing out” but that doesn’t seem the case, her whining, noises, it’s droning on and she’s not being cooperative.” Wednesday explains, “As a fellow wolf I assume you might have some insight.”

“Oh, I See.. yeah that makes sense.” You say to yourself.

“What do you mean?” Wedensday said.

“Heat Season. She’s probably struggling the way I am.” You explain, Wedensday looks down, thinking. “I hadn’t considered that option.”

“You didn’t think mating season would be a thing? It is for all of us, that and teenage hormones all mixed together…” you drone on, but stop. “Might want to keep your face away from hers. Might wind up with lipstick on it.” You say in jest, Wedensday having the sense of humor as a dead sewer rat, stares at you.

“She would do such a thing?”

“No Jesus, Wedensday I’m fucking with you, you’re probably not her type anyway.” You stand up, stepping out of the booth.

“Only real way for her to go back to normal is for her to wait out her heat season. Or…” you say, which catches Wedensday by surprise.

“Or what?…”

“You, give her what she wants…” you awkwardly admits.

“You mean, give you what you want?” Wedensday fires back, you try to act as if you have no idea what she means, but the sudden shift in your body language told her exactly what you had in mind. Wednesday thinks and then also stood up.

“I’ll be spending most of the afternoon in the cemetery, go get it out of her system..” she demands, and leaves, something about the way she said it. You felt almost compelled to, following up on Wednesdays “Offer.” More like a demand really, you awkwardly made your way to their room. Gently knocking on the door, you awaited a response for a moment.

“Hey, Enid?” You ask, Wedensday wanted me to Uh, Check on you..” you utter, you hear her shuffling and moving and the door opening. Enid was still as beautiful as ever, just with a very, tired look. Her eyes lit up for a moment seeing you, and a few very inappropriate ideas flooded her brain, she smiled.

“(Y/n)! It’s, really good to see you, really good.” She really extended her pronouncing on that one. You took the hint and leaned in slightly.

“Well, is there… anything I can do to—“ You could barely make out the sentence before you felt her hand grip your tie and yank you into the room.

3RD Person.

Enid wasn’t always so forward with things but to get the itch she’s been dying to scratch for so long, she took the first opportunity that came. It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to realize Enid had her hands on the door, pinning him against it and her lips assaulting his, her trying to coop herself in her room for the cycle to run its course wasn’t going to work, and Him drooling over her wasn’t going to help that. His hands gripped what part of her they could, her waist around his palms that get hotter each second, she was, surprisingly, barely wearing anything besides underwear that she was dying to tear off. Switching positions, Enids body was pressed against the door, this time (Y/n) taking the more dominant role as his lips pursed and kissed her neck, hard. (Y/n) stripped himself down to match her, sweat beading off both.

Her desperate moans crept into his ear, panting and gasping. “Harder, bite me, harder~” she pleaded, he gently let his teeth sink slightly into her skin, her body shivers, her nails digging into (Y/n)’s back as her grunts of pleasure were like music to (Y/n)’s ears. His enhanced strength lets him effortlessly Lift the girl up and walk her to Her bed, lying her down he mounts his mate and both are ready for the main course. His sex aligns with hers and his eyes locked with hers, he waits for a moment, to gauge wether she wants to go this far, Enid nods, looking lovingly into his eyes. He obliges, and slowly pushes inside, the hot wave of pleasure runs though them both, but Enid more, the way her head cocked back and the way her voice shivers as she yells “Fuuuuuuck~” as he enters. Her legs wrap around his waist, not letting him out. Her chest presses against his, holding (Y/n) tightly. His palms grip the bedsheets as he thrusts away, sloshing in her soaking wet depths, her cries of pleasure ring though the room. It only took a few thrusts for Enids to feel an orgasm coming.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna—“ she could barely let the worse escape her mouth before her body clenched around his, shaking in orgasm. (Y/n) pulled his throbbing shaft out and let his seed explode all over her stomach, both gasping for air they lie down together. (Y/n) wipes the sweat from his brow to recover, but he got no rest as he felt Enid this time Mount him, she didn’t hesitate to slide right down on his cock and ride away.

It was hours of passionate love, different positions, both being the dominant and submissive role in their relations. It was nearing midnight and Wednesday had given them ample time to get themselves together, she approached the door and opened it to the waft of sex hitting her nose, she, realizing the mistake she made walked to the window and opened it to air the room out, she completely ignored the exhausted duo lying on Enids bed.

“H-Hey, roomie…” Enid grumbles, tired.

“Good night Enid, (Y/n)?” She asks, he looks over to her.

“Yeah?” He asks, tired.

“Thank you for getting it out of her system.”

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