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fluffylino · 4 months

Text

pussy drunk minho

he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~

-contains mature themes

"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.

now that was a lie.

"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.

"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.

"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.

"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.

"deal"

"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.

the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.

if he could dom you. you could dom him.

his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."

so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.

"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.

minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.

and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.

a lie honestly.

his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.

it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.

the day one was fine.

he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.

day three was when you noticed him staring.

you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.

so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.

eyes locked onto your covered heat.

"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.

"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.

when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.

"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.

"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.

"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.

"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.

stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.

"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.

first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.

"are you gonna be a goo-"

"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.

"yes yes. now can i-"

"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.

"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.

"promise?"

"hmmmm"

you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.

"wh-"

his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.

inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.

using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.

a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.

"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.

"may i...please?"

you nodded. satisfied.

you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.

nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.

so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.

"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.

you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.

"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.

pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.

"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.

"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.

his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.

a muffled whimper escaping him.

"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.

"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.

lips swollen and red.

"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.

"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"

"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.

"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.

"c-come on kitty, make me cum"

you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.

a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.

nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.

small little whines leaving him at your taste.

"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.

"good k-kitty?"

"did so good for me"

"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"

"AHAH SO I WON-"

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lucyrose191 · 3 months

Note

Hey could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she's been feeling unwell but insists she's coming to the track and he's worried about her. Long short story, their son (Jack) with her and she felt like she's going to go faint and she tell Jack to find Toto for her and Toto's being her knight in shining armor,rescued her. Just fluff and comfort. Tag me later. Thanks! :))

TAKE IT EASY| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Toto Wolff x Wife!reader

Summary; Your stubbornness to admit you may be feeling unwell might just be your downfall one day but your husband will always be there to catch you, as will your son.

Warnings; none

F1 Master List

You could feel the worried gaze of your husband from where he was standing in the en-suite getting dressed, he had woken up before you this morning which was his first notification that something was wrong but once he saw your flushed cheeks and pressed the back of his hand against your forehead he knew you certainly weren’t well.

He had tried to convince you to go back to bed but you refused, you were here to support him and Jack was so excited to attend a race again and whilst Toto was more than capable of looking after him, it was just easier for you to take care of Jack and entertain him because Toto still had work to do, a toddler didn’t just want to sit in the garage and wait for their father to finish a bunch of things before having fun.

So you insisted that you were fine and were adamant on going to the track, ignoring the churning of your stomach, fogginess in your mind and how weak your body felt.

Toto wasn’t happy with your decision at all, your health was so much more important to him than any race that he had brought up not going himself but you had shot down that idea before he could even finish his sentence.

So he relented.

You were now on your way to the track, the car wasn’t doing anything good for your stomach, leaving you to lean your head against the window with your eyes closed as you took deep breaths through your nose.

What was meant to be the comforting touch of your husband rubbing his hand back and forth across your thigh wasn’t helping with the nausea you felt either because all you could think about was how similar the touch was to him rubbing his hand up and down your back as you threw up.

Jack was in the back babbling nonstop about how excited he was to see Lewis again and hopefully sit in the car and you loved your son so much but your head was so fuzzy that everything he was saying you were hearing three times and you couldn’t think straight.

"Mama?" His small voice called out and you could perfectly hear the undertone of excitement.

"Yeah, darling?" You slowly turned around in your seat so you could look at him, mustering up the biggest smile you could for him.

"Can we see Charles and Carlos, today?" He asked, face filled with hope.

"We can do whatever you want to do but remember they’ll be very busy preparing for the race so they might not have time to speak with you."

"Okay, and can we see Bono?" He asked.

"Yes," you smiled weakly.

"And Mick?"

"If you want to, yes."

"And Lando and Oscar too?"

"We’ll do whatever you want to do Jack."

"Well I want food before we see Lando," he said strong cause you to laugh.

"Yeah, we mustn’t forget about that," you agreed before turning back in your seat. Of all the days for your son to be riddled with energy, today was not really ideal but you suppose that’s what comes with being a parent.

You rested your head back against the window, looking out at the streets you passed, reaching out blindly your clasped your hand with Toto’s that hadn’t removed from its position on your leg, hoping his touch could help you feel even the slightest bit better.

Toto released a deep breath as he turned off the car and turned to look at you. You hadn’t even registered that you had arrived at the track, still staring out the window in a daze. "It’s not too late to turn around and go back to the hotel, we can go back to bed." He spoke up quietly, not wanting to startle her.

You shook your head and turned to him with a smile, "I’ll be fine, come on, jack’s getting antsy," you responded, hearing your son trying and failing to unfasten his seatbelt.

Your husband huffed in defeat and reluctantly got out the car, opening the door behind his to let Jack out, you heard him entertain his childish rambling and as soon as the door shut you took a second to take a deep breath before getting out yourself.

"Mummy’s not feeling today so it’s up to you to take care of her okay?" Toto whispered to his son, who was resting on his hip, so you couldn’t hear.

Jack frowned and looked to his father in concern for you. "She’s poorly?"

Toto nodded "She’s doesn’t feel well, are you going to keep an eye on her for me?" Jack nodded with a determined look on his face before wriggling for Toto to put him down.

"Mummy!" He ran around the car as soon as his feet his the ground so he could get to you.

"Yeah, baby?" You crouched down, surprised when he wrapped his arms around your neck in a hug.

"I don’t want to see Charles, Carlos or Lando today, can we just get food and stay in Papa’s office and watch the race from the garage?" He asked.

You looked at him in confusion at his sudden change, he was beyond excited earlier and whilst you were relieved at the change in what he wanted, you were surprised at how abruptly he didn’t want to go and see the other drivers anymore.

"Are you sure that’s what you want?" You asked, skeptical as he nodded confidently but you reluctantly agreed.

"Okay then," you grabbed his hand and Toto grabbed his other as the three of you made your way into the track, you ignored the worried eyes of your husband that kept flickering to you every few seconds, the pair of you ignored the fans and shouts of media reporters as you weren’t in the mood to feign happiness and Toto was just far too concerned about you.

You had hoped that as day went by you would start to feel better but if anything you felt worse, you had went to hospitality with Jack to get some food to take back to Toto’s office but the mixture of smells had sent you spiralling and you tried to get out of there as quick as possible.

You and Jack had been in Toto’s office for about an hour and you hadn’t seen your husband in about two.

Jack was being on his best behaviour though, you don’t know where his change in what he wanted to do today came from but he seemed content sitting on the floor with his snacks and watching the live recording of the track on your phone.

You had sat yourself down on Toto’s chair to try and relax a bit but your head was spinning so much and your vision was starting to blur.

"Jack?" You called out weakly, you had tried to sound as though everything was okay as to not worry him but it didn’t work that well.

"Mama?" Jack pulled himself up to his feet immediately, live broadcast long forgotten as he saw his mother even paler than you had been this morning and leaning against his father’s desk, a thin layer of perspiration on your skin.

"Can you go get Papa for me? Tell him I need him quickly." You told him, trying to smile at him but your body didn’t even have the energy for that.

Jack didn’t need to be told twice, he turned around and ran to find Toto, opening the door with so much force that it banged against the wall before closing half way again.

"Papa!"

The Mercedes team all looked away from what they were doing and turned towards the sound of Jack’s panicked voice followed by the sight of him running through the garage with a petrified look on his face, searching for his dad.

"Papa!" He pretty much screamed, fear overtaking his body knowing that something was really wrong with his mother right now and you were alone and he couldn’t find his father.

The Mercedes team were worried beyond belief as they took in just how scared Jack was and how desperate he sounded for Toto who wasn’t in the garage at the moment.

"Jack?" Lewis slowly approached the boy who was stood in the middle of the garage, looking all around him, tears welling up in his eyes when he couldn’t see his dad.

He looked at Lewis frantically. "Where’s Papa?" He demanded.

"I think he’s speaking to someone right now, are you okay?" Lewis crouched down in front of him.

Jack shook his head aggressively, "I need Papa, Mama needs him quickly!"

"Where’s your mama?" Lewis asked as worry filled him. "Show me where she is, maybe I can help her?"

But Jack shook his head "no, she needs Papa, she told me to get him quickly."

Lewis sighed but nodded, a bad feeling was settling have in his chest for you. "Okay, you stay right here and don’t move and I’m going to go and get your dad, okay?"

"You need to be quick!" Jack told him desperately.

"I’ll be as quick as I can." Lewis told him, giving a look to the team to keep an eye on him before turning and quite literally running out of the garage.

People stopped and watched in confusion as they saw Lewis Hamilton running through the pits, looking around frantically for someone.

It didn’t take him long to see Toto sticking out from the crowd, in the middle of an interview with Martin Brundle, he didn’t care that it was live and brutally interrupted the pair of them, grabbing Toto’s arm. "You need to come with me, now. It’s important."

Seeing the serious look in his driver’s eyes, a million scenarios swirled around in Toto’s mind. He didn’t even excuse himself from Martin knowing that Lewis wouldn’t just crash his interview for no reason.

What took him back more was the fact that his driver had started running back into the direction of their garage and Toto didn’t hesitate to follow.

He couldn’t imagine how this looked, Lewis running through the paddock frantically, crashing Toto’s live interview and the pair of them running back.

"What is wrong?" He huffed as they weaved in and out of the masses of people crowding in the pits.

Lewis kept his voice down as he explained, not wanting this to hit the internet from someone overhearing. "I have no idea, Jack was screaming in the middle of the garage, looking for you. He said Y/N needed you quickly so I tried to get him to tell me where she was but he wouldn’t, said she told him to get you as quick as he could, he looked terrified."

A deep sickening feeling settled into the pit of Toto’s stomach as he quickened his pace, he knew you weren’t well today and the multiple scenarios of what could possibly have happened scared him.

"Papa!" Jack yelled as soon as he saw his father enter the garage, running straight for Toto and diving into his legs. "Quickly! Mama said she needs you."

Toto picked Jack up and looked him in the eye. "You stay here with Lewis, okay? I’m going to go see Mama."

Jack nodded, suddenly a lot more calm now that his dad was here and didn’t complain when he was passed off to Lewis.

Toto quickly made his way to his office and as soon as he stood in the threshold of the doorway, his heart fell to his stomach as he lay his eyes upon you, unconscious on the floor by his desk.

He was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you as he rolled you onto your side and moved your hair from your face.

"Liebe?" He gently tapped the side of your face, trying to coerce you out of unconsciousness.

At no response, he pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, grimacing at the amount of heat he felt radiating from your body. Looking around his office, he saw a glass of ice water sitting on his desk, he grabbed the glass and dipped his hand inside before pressing it back against your forehead, hoping it would cool you down a bit.

"Schatz?" He tried to wake you again, this time successful as he heard a slight change in your breathing and saw your eyes moving beneath your lids.

"Y/N, you’re okay, take it easy." He continued speaking to try and coerce you more awake, smiling when he saw your eyes open.

You were confused to see your husband hovering above you, your mind was foggy and your body felt so heavy you couldn’t move your limbs.

Looking around, you found that you were lying on the floor causing your face to contort into confusion.

Turning back to Toto, you blinked up at him and upon seeing the questioning look on your face, he explained. "You fainted, and gave Jack quite the fright too."

Hearing Jack’s name, your body filled with worry and you tried to sit up but Toto’s hands on your shoulders encouraged you to lay back down. "He’s fine, he’s with Lewis."

"Need a drink," you told him causing him to look at the glass on the edge of his desk.

"I’ll get you a new one, I put my hand in that one to try and cool you down," he told you.

You shook your head, "it’s fine," you held out your hand for him to just give you the one on the desk, not really wanting him to leave at the minute.

Toto brought the glass to your lips, insisting on hosing it for you since your hands were shaky and he didn’t want you spilling it all over yourself. "Have you had anything to eat?"

You shook your head, the idea of food earlier had knocked you funny but you know you should probably eat something.

"I’ll get someone from hospitality to make you some toast," he told you, not really giving you the opportunity to refuse, not that you would have anyways. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, thank you." you replied, sitting yourself up to lean against his desk. It was as though passing out was what your body needed to recover because the fuzziness in your head had faded away, the hot flush all over your body was gone and your stomach was no longer churning anymore, it just felt empty.

"We should’ve stayed at the hotel," Toto repeated for what felt like the hundredth time today and you couldn’t even argue with him this time. "I know," you responded.

"Do you want to stay in here and rest while the race is happening? I can keep Jack with me."

You shook your head, "No, I want to watch it out there; I’ll be fine."

Toto sighed but nodded.

"Mama!" Jack ran away from Lewis and towards you as soon as he saw you and Toto leave his office, you smiled widely and crouched down for him to run into your arms despite Toto’s protests, knowing you still felt a bit weak.

"Hi, baby," you wrapped your arms around him tightly and rubbed a hand up and down his back.

"I got Papa just like you said," he spoke into your shoulder.

"I know, you did such a good job," you told him proudly.

Toto insisted that you stay near him whilst the race was happening, not willing for you to leave his sight incase anything else happened so you curled up on a chair beside him with Jack on your lap, the boy also not wanting to be far from you, with Toto’s large coat draped over the pair of you.

A plate of toast and a glass of water had been set in front of you next to the monitors and there was no way you could stomach all four slices so you and Jack split it.

The media had their speculations as to why Toto and Lewis had been rushing through the paddock but once they saw you snuggled up on the chair beside Toto, still very pale, they could guess what happened but they thought it was adorable seeing how the man would constantly glance away from the monitor to you and Jack to ensure you were okay, his hand stroking your hair away from your face every few minutes.

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 6 months

Text

{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }

"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.

"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.

"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.

Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.

He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.

Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.

"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.

"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.

"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.

"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.

"On three."

"One."

"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.

Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.

"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.

"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.

It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.

Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.

"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.

"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.

"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.

"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.

"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.

"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.

"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.

"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.

"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.

"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.

"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.

"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.

"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.

"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.

"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.

"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.

"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.

"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.

"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.

"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.

"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.

"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.

"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.

"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.

"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.

"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.

"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.

"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.

"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.

"And you."

It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.

"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.

The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.

"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.

( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )

#Halloween blurb #steddie #steddie ficlet #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #mine #my writing #my fic

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residenthughes · 3 months

Text

opera house - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)

summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.

notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3

As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.

You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.

Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.

You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”

“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”

A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.

“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”

A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”

You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”

The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence.

Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”

A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.

It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”

“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”

Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.

“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”

Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”

“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.

Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”

The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.

“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.

“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”

You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”

He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.

You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”

You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair.

“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing.

“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”

“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”

“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.”

You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation.

“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”

Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”

“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”

Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.

Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.

Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”

He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”

“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.

“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”

It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.

“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”

To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.

“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”

That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds.

“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”

You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you.

“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”

“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”

Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan.

“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”

You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.

Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs.

Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.

“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”

And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”

Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”

You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.”

He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars.

“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”

An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.

“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”

“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.

“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.”

The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup.

He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”

#jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #smut #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes #residenthughes

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions.

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food."

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy.

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him.

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that."

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again.

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?)

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up.

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly.

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from.

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite.

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing.

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.”

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows.

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?”

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?”

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.”

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved.

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.”

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything?

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted.

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him #this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class #it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a #cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next #its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water #it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance #how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling #backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna #have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact #imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine #danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the #'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al #so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne

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43qh · 2 months

Text

Summer Haze (M)

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

word count: 3.7k

warnings: unprotected sex, pining

summary: there is nothing sweeter than coming back to quinn hughes.

it’s summer again.

you can feel the slight burn on your knees as you sit on a folding chair, watching as the hughes’ brothers all get the boat ready for the lake. it was warm, but nothing you weren’t used to. becoming friends with all three brothers growing up was a hassle, you could say. they liked to bicker every now and then, especially the younger two. quinn was a bit reserved, but that never stopped you from chatting with him.

to quinn, you were like the sun. every time you made your way towards him, he felt his chest go tight and his hands turn sweaty. you had a gorgeous glow, something he admired more and more as the years went by. you turned into a beautiful woman that he adored. someone who handled herself with grace and yet knew how to have fun.

you just graduated college, and the weight on your shoulders felt lighter as you stared into the water. you had some time on your hands before you got into your new job, and you felt relaxed.

“i heard you graduated, gorgeous,” you hear a familiar voice, a cheeky smile on jack’s face as you turn your head to the right to look at him.

you smile back, “sure did. with honors.”

jack nods, “impressive.” jack pauses before continuing, “we all missed you, y’know.”

you nod softly, looking away for a second out of guilt. you had avoided coming to the lake for a few years so you could study and get everything done. you weren’t aware how much it had affected the hughes family. they were so used to having you around, and when you stopped coming, they worried for you and your mental health. you had to assure ellen than you were fine and just taking care of your studies. you promised her you’d be back in no time. that phone call was two years ago.

“i missed you guys too,” you smile at him, and jack pats your back.

“show up more.” he finishes before rushing back to his brothers that were already bickering. quinn looked frustrated as luke had a smile on his face. you knew luke did something just to piss him off. you watch as quinn rolls his eyes when jack comes back to the boat, and quinn hops off.

quinn can’t stop himself from making way to you. he wouldn’t admit it, but he probably missed you the most. he watched as you raised an eyebrow at him, a questionary look on your face as he approaches you.

“is quinn approaching me right now? is this real?” you smile at him, getting up from your seat to meet him halfway.

quinn huffs, “i always approach you.”

“yeah, when someone else needs me.” you point out. you weren’t wrong, and quinn knew it, “so, who needs me?”

“no one,” he licks his lips, before quickly re-answering, “well, me.”

“you?” you tilt your head in a question.

“yeah, how have you been?” quinn tries not to make the conversation awkward, but there wasn’t really anything quinn did that wasn’t awkward around you.

you smile, “i’ve been trapped in studies, but doing good. graduated with-”

“honors.” he finishes, making you pause your sentence, “i know.”

the fact he knew and still kept up with you, despite you practically cutting everyone off, made your heart flutter. you stood there with blank eyes, looking like a deer in headlights. you didn’t know how to react, how to respond. how did he know?

“i watched a viewing of your graduation.” he says, like he was answering the question in your head, “i was impressed, but not surprised. you love outdoing yourself.”

you nod, feeling like your feet are stuck to the ground. he watched you graduate from your college from a viewing, despite his crazy schedule. he made time for you. god, that hurt. and he didn’t text you that night. you almost wanted to cry because you knew he thought you didn’t want to hear from him anymore. the guilt traps you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t-”

he shakes his head, cutting you off, “i wanted to tell you i was proud. maybe i should have, but you basically fell off the face of the earth, i wasn’t even sure you’d read the message.”

you breathe out a sigh, “i always read what you send.”

quinn smiles to himself, looking towards the water, “well, now i know.”

you nod, looking at him as the sun shines down on him. you see him squint his eyes as he watched the way the water splashes back and forth. quinn is gorgeous. you’re sure everyone knew. maybe not him, but everyone else.

“i’m back now, though.” you say, a light smile gracing your features.

quinn looks back at you, smiling back in a way that makes you start to sweat where you stand, “yeah, feels great.”

quinn was known for being genuine. someone who joked a little less than his brothers. someone who meant what he said, and never took it back. when a sentiment came from quinn, you didn’t have to doubt it came from the heart and nowhere else.

when quinn hears the call of his brothers, saying the boat is ready, he gives you one more smile before rushing off towards them. you stay planted in the grass, suddenly not wanting to ride the boat anymore.

you basked in quinn’s attentive nature, sighing to yourself. how could you have walked away so easily from this?

quinn made it his mission to remember everything about you.

when you left a few years back, he had to remember. it was a taste he couldn’t get rid of, even if he wanted to. so, instead, he embraced it. he remembered how you liked your tea, what temperature was considered perfect for you inside the lakehouse, what soap you used so he could grab it at the grocery store for you. he had to remember these things so it didn’t seem like you were really gone.

when you found out your bathroom was stocked with your favorite necessaties, you knew who did it. you felt a pang in your heart as you noticed that even the towel hanging on the rack was your favorite color. quinn may be silent a lot, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen. in fact, it means he listens the most.

what would have happened to you and quinn if you hadn’t cut everyone off? would things be different?

you cross your arms over your chest, looking around the spare bedroom they always saved for you. it felt unreal to be back. you could smell hints of quinn’s cologne hinting the room, confirming that it was him who set the room together for you.

it hurt. god, it hurt like hell.

of course you missed the rest of the hughes family, but something about quinn’s attention sent shivers down your spine. he was so attentive, always specializing your needs. it was like he stocked all of his memories about you just for this moment when you came back.

you sit on the edge of the bed, pressing your hands into the soft comforter and leaning back. you start to wonder that, if you had stayed in touch, maybe things would have been different. maybe your heart wouldn’t ache as much as it did now. maybe you would have been develop something with quinn. something deeper than watching one another from afar.

you hear a knock, shocking you and making you rise to your feet to open the door. on the other side is a smiley quinn. his hair slightly wet, draping over his features.

“like the room?” he questions, hands in his pockets as he looks at you.

“i love it. you remembered everything i like.”

“how do you know it was me?” he fiddles around.

you smile at him, “you’re the only one who would remember.”

quinn nods his head, looking away from you as you see his nose start to turn a shade of pink. quinn didn’t mean to get embarrassed. he wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling you gave him in his stomach when you two talked.

“when did you become this talkative?” you lean against your doorframe, looking at him with playful eyes.

the hockey player shrugs, looking you back in the eyes again, “when i became captain, i guess. i needed to have more assertiveness. pick up my voice a bit more.”

you nod, “makes sense.”

it falls silent, and you both just stare at one another. quinn’s scruff on his face shapes it perfectly, making him a little more attractive than usual. quinn always had features you adored, but he looked a bit more buff now, a bit more grown. it almost made you sad that you missed out on so much. so, so damn much.

“i wish i never left,” you blurt. and his eyes focus in on you.

“me neither.” he states, licking his lips.

you look away in shame, “i thought i knew what was best for me.”

“you don’t need to explain yourself.” quinn takes his hands out his pockets, slowly reaching for your hands. when his hands touch yours, you feel a spark rush down your body. his hands are warm. not too cold, not too hot. they were perfect, a bit calloused, but perfect.

you stood with your teeth clenched, trying hard not to become emotional. you wanted to say something, but he said you didn’t need to explain yourself. for some reason, though, you felt like you did. it was like an ache in the back of your throat begging to be released.

“i know,” you whisper, “but i would for you.”

quinn’s hands tighten on yours, and you desperately want to kill the distance between the two of you. but you don’t, and neither does he. when quinn hears ellen calling his name, he pulls back just as quick as he pulled in.

you sigh, watching as he smiles and bids you a ‘see you later’. you have to close your door hurriedly behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. you could still feel the lingering tingle he left in your hands.

you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

would it feel better than this?

you’re sure it would.

“he missed you most,” luke’s voice comes from beside you, making you look at him with a questionary look.

“uh- sorry?” you sit on the boat, luke making his way to sit next to you.

“quinn,” he says nonchalantly, “he had a hard time staying away when you stopped texting.”

there’s that ache again. that pain in your chest that makes you want to turn back time. if only you could. if only you could have been by his side.

you drop your head, looking down at your hands as you clutch the seltzer in your hands. the cold condensation in contrast to the hot summer made you swallow.

“i don’t mean to make you feel bad,” luke quickly corrects himself, making you tilt your head up a bit to see the raise in his eyebrows as he realizes what he said, “i just think you should make up for lost time. it really surprised all of us, but i think quinn never once stopped thinking about you. it was really obvious sometimes.”

you look at quinn from where he carefully drives the boat over the waters, making sure not to hit the waves too hard. he sits wearing his hat backwards, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

“obvious?” you don’t look away from the man driving the boat.

“yeah,” luke follows your gaze, “he mentioned you a lot. asked if any of us talked to you or heard from you. he would even see something and send it in the groupchat saying how much you would have loved it.”

you take a sip of your drink, throat suddenly dry as you take in the information like a sponge. this felt so unfair. you weren’t supposed to feel so guilty for prioritizing your studies and graduating like you always wanted. but quinn made it almost impossible not to feel that way. and it wasn’t even his fault that you felt this way. that’s what troubled you most.

you had no place to put down this guilt.

you sighed, “i wish i stayed.”

luke shakes his head, “everyone does. don’t let that change what you do now, though.”

luke was right.

you had nowhere else to look other than forward. maybe it would take fighting tooth and nail to get quinn back the way you used to be, or maybe it would be easy. you didn’t know. but as you looked at the eldest hughes brother, watching him focus on the waters, you knew you had to at least try.

none of this would have been worth it, without trying.

when night falls and quinn is finished packing up the boat, you approach him. he meets you halfway, smiling with his teeth.

“have fun today?” he asks, his nose slightly sunburnt.

you stand for just a second before planting yourself in his arms. quinn is a bit shocked, letting out a huff of surprise before instinctively wrapping his arms around your waist. your arms stay linked around his neck, one hand reaching to play with his hair. you hear him hum at the action.

“i’m guessing yes?” his voice is low in your ear, and you shiver as you close your eyes, leaning into him deeper.

“i should have stayed.” you start, and he’s about to pull back but you tug on him to stay, “but i’m not going to let what i did stop me from catching up with you.”

quinn sighs, “there’s not much to catch up on.” he pauses, “we’ve always been connected. always felt it.”

his musk envelopes your nose, easing you into his embrace like it was made for you. maybe it was.

“me too.” you confess.

even while gone, it was always quinn that came to mind. you loved the rest of the hughes family, but quinn never stopped wrapping your mind the most.

the rest of the hug was quiet, no words spoken as the tight hold on one another becomes a close understanding to one another.

this was moving forward.

you stand in front of the sliding doors, watching as rain falls almost violently. you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“admiring the rain?”

you hear a familiar voice, making you smile to yourself as you turn around and see quinn standing against the wall frame, hands in pockets. he looks good. sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips, eyes drooping like he just woke up, hair messy, shirt clinging to his body. you swallow at the sight of him.

“you could say that.” you respond, and quinn raises an eyebrow. “where’s everyone else?”

quinn hums, “grocery shopping.”

“and you didn’t go?” you tilt your head, knowing he normally liked going so he could pick out what he liked.

he shakes his head, “no.”

you look at him with confused eyes, “why not?”

“knew you’d be here.” he confesses, like it’s almost something he’s not supposed to say, “wanted to stay with you.”

you watched as he shifted uncomfortably, leaning off the wall and standing awkwardly. you smile to yourself at the man in front of you, observing as his ears start to tip a color of red.

you walk towards him, and his breath hitches in his throat. he feels frozen as you approach him. quinn felt his brain stop working as you stopped right in front of him. your perfume engulfed him, hugged him like a blanket.

“you don’t have to kick everyone out to kiss me.”

your words linger in the air, your confident stare making him swallow and lick his lips.

“i- i didn’t kick-”

you roll your eyes, “i didn’t mean literally.”

quinn nods, the silence in the air becoming tense as he doesn’t move, no matter how badly his hands start twitch in his pockets. he wants to pull you flush against his body, kiss you like it matters. but the courage never strikes him.

you huff, taking matters into your own hands and clutching his face. your lips meet his, and he takes a minute before he’s responding back, hands slowly coming out of his pockets to delicately rest on your hips, kissing you softly and slowly.

it wasn’t rushed, just a kiss of silent confessions. you run your nails through his hair, earning yourself a soft groan that you swallow up. it’s heaven. nothing like you’ve felt before. it’s more than what you expected. you can feel his scruff scraping you slightly, and you sigh at the closeness. his hands become more and more greedy, starting to pull you close to him as the kiss becomes something more. something filled with need.

quinn swears he could die like this and be happy. the sound of the rain is buffed out by the sweet sighs you let out during the kiss. he appreciates the way you whine when he pulls back, biting your lower lip with careful teeth. you look up at him, breathing heavy. he swears you looked the most gorgeous than he’s ever seen. doe eyes, curious expression, attention all on him.

he can feel your hands still gripping onto his hair, like you were silently begging for something more. he huffs when he realizes just how close you are. chest to chest, breathing one another’s air, noses close to almost touch.

he wants you. he wants it all.

he’s quick to drag you to his room, making you squeak when he tugs your wrist to follow him. you let out a soft giggle, throwing your head back in some type of euphoria. when your back lands on his bed, you smell him instantly. his soap, his musk, his cologne. all of it. it only made you want him more.

“you’re so beautiful,” he finally spoke, “especially in my bed.”

you smile up at him, “won’t be the last time.”

quinn shakes his head as he makes work at both of your clothes, “hope not.”

it has felt long overdue for this moment. to have quinn all to yourself. to feel his skin on yours, to feel the way his heart beats for you, to feel the way his hands are on your sides and thighs as he spreads you apart for his hungry eyes.

“gorgeous,” he breathes, taking in your fully nude body, “so wet, too.”

you furrow your eyebrows in frustration, whining, “then you must know how much i need you?”

quinn smiles to himself, laughing under his breath, “yeah, definitely.”

quinn doesn’t think he can tease you any longer. the more he teases you, the more he’s teasing himself, really. it’s not long until he’s lining up to your entrance, making the both of you let out long strings of relief the second he enters you. he stretches you out, making you feel every throb and vein possible on his cock.

you clutch his shoulders, “fuck.”

quinn nods, “so tight.”

both of your breathing has become rapid, staggered and eager. quinn’s first thrust into you is slow, like he’s testing the waters. it feels so fucking good, like he was made for you.

“take my cock so well,” quinn says it like a prayer, “made just for me, only me.”

your walls flutter at his words, causing a hitch in his throat and a stutter in his thrusts. quinn can’t help picking up his pace, your pussy feeling too good. he felt almost drunk, nothing quite coherent coming to his brain. he can barely feel the way your nails claw at his shoulder and bicep as he picks up a brutal pace. it all feels too good. your moans echoing around his room, bouncing in his ears and sending him to cloud nine.

“want you to-” you gasp as he reaches that spot inside you that has you curling your toes, “fuck, cum inside me. want your cum inside me.”

quinn can feel sweat starting to develop on his forehead, and he groans at your confession. “gonna give it to you. want you to cum for me first, though.”

quinn makes a point by lowering a hand down to your clit, rubbing deep circles into you. you let out a soft yelp, surprise being taken over by pleasure too quickly. you can feel the way your pussy is starting to convulse around him, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to cum.

with one particular thrust and press of his thumb on his clit, you let out a string of curses mixed with his name as you cum. it doesn’t take much for quinn to follow right behind you, the fluttering of your pussy almost too much for him. you shiver at the feeling of his cum coating your walls, listening to the way his breathing slowly comes down from such a high.

quinn hugs you close to him, despite his exhaustion. he never wants this to end. never wants to be apart from you again. this is something he’s scared of losing. he pined too long for you to leave again.

you run your fingers through his hair, easing you both back to earth and reality. “i never stopped thinking about you.”

quinn has his head buried in your neck, “me neither.”

this wasn’t just a summer fling to either of you. this was something important.

“i’m never leaving again.” you kiss his temple, “especially not you.”

quinn relaxes, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. you can feel the relief escape his shoulders. he finally pulls out, quickly grabbing a towel from his bathroom to clean you up. he kisses your forehead, handing you a bottle of water he already had on his night stand from last night.

when he finishes taking care of you, he slips on a pair of boxers and hands you a pair yourself. you smile in gratitude. quinn swears he’s living in heaven. he swears this is what heaven looks like.

quinn gets in the bed next to you, watching as you slip on a shirt of his, too. “you’re pretty in my clothes.”

“you’d say that in anything i wore,” you lean into his embrace as he holds his arms out for you.

he just smiles, “maybe so.”

the sun starts shine through his window, the rain finally stopping and leaking in a special summer haze in the room.

your very own summer haze.

#nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes scenario #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #nhl smut #nhl fluff #nhl angst

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borahaerhy · 1 year

Text

Round Two - jjk

Summary: Jungkook has a big fight coming up, and he's not allowed to have sex for a month prior.

Genre: Boxer!JungkookxReader, SMUT

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Just filth, Jungkook is obscenely horny, desperate, and possessive, mentions of them being VERY sexually active before this, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don't), choking? (not really, his hands just there), creampie

“No climaxing for a month before any large-scale fight.”

A sentence Jungkook had hated the first time is was said to him, but respected nonetheless. He hated not even being able to jack-off for that long, but it was manageable before he met you.

Then you showed up right as his career began to take off. A lot more of his fights were high-profile; all televised, and a lot rode on him winning - and him winning rode very heavily on him obeying that one rule he despised so much.

The first high-profile fight he had while with you, that rule wasn’t exactly something he paid much mind to; chalking it all up to superstition. He knew he was good, and having sex wasn’t going to change that, right?

Wrong.

He bombed the fight and his manager was pissed, to say the least. “I swear to god, JK, your career will be over if you pull another move like that.”

So a few months later when he was told about the next big fight, his manager repeated those words to him, and by God, he listened.

Hated having to break the news to you though.

“So, we can’t have sex? Like at all?”

“No,” He shook his head before his expression changed slightly, thinking for a moment before he continued, “Well, I can do stuff to you, I just can’t really do anything that involves my dick, and probably nothing at all for two weeks before the fight,” You sat in almost complete amazement.

“Jungkook, sweetie, since we’ve started dating we haven’t gone more than twenty-four hours without fucking, shit, I’d be surprised if we made it twelve,” you laughed, only kind of joking as Jungkook smirked, thinking back to all the times you’d had sex three and four times a day for months on end.

“Yeah, I know, but that’s why I lost my last fight so bad. I really can’t this time,” He spoke almost solemnly, his hand coming over to rub your thigh soothingly; though it really just made you want to rip his clothes off.

“A month?” You asked softly, almost whining as your eyes remained glued to his hand.

“Just a month, It’ll be easy.”

Like hell it was.

But you did it, and man, did this fight go differently from the last one.

This time, the other guy was barely even able to land a punch on Jungkook. His punches barely landed, and his attempts to overpower him were struck down as Jungkook was easily able to knock him back down and off of him. By the end of the fight, everyone was screaming his name; everyone except the one person he wanted to be screaming it the most.

He immediately closed the door to his dressing room, you already sitting on the couch wearing the skimpiest dress you owned, smiling from ear to ear as you waited to congratulate him. He’d been in a near constant state of arousal for the past several weeks, and you, while trying your best not to add to his struggle of not being able to bend you over every surface in his house, were no help.

Sure, you covered up more, and went out more than you stayed in to avoid temptations, but you were still you. You still made dirty jokes that made his mind wander, you still ran your hand across his leg absentmindedly, your perfume still smelled intoxicating and your lips still tasted like desire.

So, when he saw you in the room he knew you’d be waiting for him in, showing more skin than he had seem in a month, he cut off your words when you went to congratulate him, his mouth engulfing yours as his tongue past your lips and into the furthest corners of your mouth. You moaned into him softly, while his actions were not fully unexpected, he still threw you off balance before his hands gripped your hips and pulled you into him.

Seconds later his his hands were up your dress, gripping your ass roughly as he pulled you further into him, his cock already hard as it pressed against your stomach. He desperately pulled your dress up and over your head, throwing it roughly to the side as your hand went down his shorts, gripping his hard length gently as you moved up and down.

He groaned deeply, throwing his head back in pleasure as your other hand ran down his chest and abs. He moved his head back up, going back and forth between watching you stroke him under his shorts and watching your tits move as you did.

A wave of overwhelming need came over him, pulling your hand out of his pants before he grabbed you by the hips and spun you around and pushed you down onto the couch, your hands bracing you on the back of the couch.

“You have no fucking idea,” He started, hastily pulling his shorts and underwear down before he stepped toward you, running his dick along the crack of your ass as he lets out a low groan. “How hard it was for me to not fuck you,” He used his middle finger to pull your thong to the side as you pushed your ass back further, desperate for him to touch you.

He groaned as he thrust into you roughly, having to hold himself back from pounding into you relentlessly. “Fuck,” A swift slap landed on your ass as you moaned out, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “I had to rush through that fight,” His words were low as you could tell he was trying to avoid cumming too soon. “Because i knew you were back here,” thrust “wearing that,” thrust “waiting for me to come back here and fuck you,”

He snapped into you roughly, hands on your hips as he thrust into you faster than he ever had before. Your moans were obnoxiously loud and constant, something people outside this room could definitely hear; but neither of you cared. He reached on hand around your neck and pulled you back against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he continued thrusting in and out of you.

“You’ve been my good little slut, hmm?” he hummed into your ear, his free hand wrapping around you to play with your tits. “Waiting so patiently for me, all for me,” you nodded against him as he kissed starting sucking harshly on your shoulder as his pace became unsteady. “Gotta cum, baby,” he whispered into your shoulder was he moved the hand from your neck down to your clit, rubbing it harshly as you reached back to pull his hair, feeling yourself about to come undone.

He pushed you back down as you came, fingers digging into your hips as he drilled into you ruthlessly before he spilled into you, his sticky cum filling you up quickly and began spurting out of you, dripping onto the couch.

He sighed heavily as he pulled out of you, falling back into the couch next to you, his body spent. He adjusted to sit next to him, your legs draped over his as he pulled you into his heaving chest. “Fuck, that was good,” he spoke after catching his breath, his voice low as his eyes remained shut.

You hummed in response, kissing his chest softly before you stood, grabbing your dress from off the ground and slipping it back on, Jungkook’s eyes low as he watched you. “Ready for round two when we get back to your place?” You smiled, noticing the way his eyes were watching you.

He smirked lightly as his eyes moved back up to meet yours. He swiftly stood and pulled you into him, caressing your cheek with his thumb as his eyes stayed glued on your lips. “When we get back to my place?” His smirk widening as he looked into your eyes. “Round two’s happening right here and now, baby,”

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harlowcomehome · 2 months

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Runaway husband:

Angst storyline!

⚠️: Slapping with open hand.

You woke up to the sound of muffled baby cries filling the room, that was your new “normal” since having your son just three short months ago. He had come down with a cold, which wasn’t abnormal for his age or the season but you were still internally panicking.

Your life was a lot different than you originally thought it would be. A year ago you would’ve thought you’d be married to the love of your life, your husband would be a doting father and beyond successful recording artist and all else would fall into place but life always has a twisted way of humbling those thoughts.

You dragged yourself out of bed and to the bedroom next to yours. “Awww papa, what’s wrong?” You whispered as you turned on the lamp that sat adjacent to the door, illuminating the room enough to get a good look at his face. His eyes were hazel, his hair was barely coming in, he was all cheek and chubby legs but even at his young age, you knew he was his father’s twin. You grimaced, wondering how this was all going to play out, “oh Emmett, mama has weak genes I guess” You rubbed your finger against his chubby cheeks.

Those close to you knew the truth, but most of the world didn’t even know you were pregnant and you wanted to keep it that way, it would be easier if Jack wasn’t involved. (At least that’s what you had convinced yourself of.) You had spent most of your time cooped up in your house, worried someone would catch a glimpse of your son and put the pieces together.

You took care of the built-up snot in his small button nose making sure he could breathe properly before you rocked him back to sleep in your grandma's antique cherry oak rocking chair. You knew he was in a deep sleep when he started to coo. You triple-checked the owlet smart sleep sock that your best friend swore by, and the baby monitor one more time before tiptoeing back to your room.

You knew you’d have a hard time falling back asleep, spending most of your early mornings googling Jack's name and wondering what he had been up to these days. A part of you felt a sense of guilt, letting him go on about his life without knowing he fathered a child, and the other part of you was elated you didn’t have to share him.

Jack had been spotted recently, it seemed he was dating a talent agent, his first real publicized relationship since the two of you split. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock the wind out of you and make you want to scream, the comparisons of her body and your post-baby body only making you feel worse.

You checked the time, knowing Louisville was only a few hours ahead sending a quick text before tossing your phone on the bed beside you and waiting. It never took her long to reply, it usually only took seconds and on the rare occasion minutes.

Your phone started to buzz immediately, she was always eager to speak to you.

“Hi Maggie” you spoke softly, not wanting to wake Emmett who was in the bedroom beside yours.

“Hi, sweetheart. How’s my Em doing?” She hummed, taking every opportunity given to her to ask you for updates.

“He's still fighting that nasty cold, but can’t wait for you to visit next week. It’s still just you, right?” Your sentences were laced with worries and concerns, it would be her first time seeing her grandson in the flesh.

“I made a promise that I intend to keep” she reiterated knowing you needed to hear it.

“Thank you” You bit back tears, never able to hold it back when you spoke to her. You continued the conversation for several minutes, neither of you bringing Jack's name into it for the sake of pleasantries.

••••

You often wondered how or when you’d have to tell Emmett about his father, and if Jack would ever be in the picture. As you fed your baby for the second time today, you pondered how this visit with his paternal grandmother would go.

Emmett was your entire world, your saving grace when life came crashing down, but you worried he’d resent you for keeping him hidden especially with all Jack had to offer.

Maggie had found out about your pregnancy when you were about seven months pregnant and when she saw pure panic and disdain in your face she knew that Jack wasn’t the least bit aware. You were visiting your parents and knew Jack was touring so you thought it would be safe to leave their house, but were met with one of the main people you wanted to avoid.

You and Jack had dated for less than six months, five months and two weeks to be exact before he was down on one knee in front of his entire family and friend group, announcing to all of them that he had found the person he’d spend forever with.

Your small friend group had never seen you so in love, not a single one questioning your timeline or relationship which was honestly a breath of fresh air. Jack had zero worry about your intentions, feeling like he could be his authentic self with you was a sigh of relief he had never felt before.

You were engaged and setting a wedding date just two months later, not wanting to waste any time. In the moment things just felt right, you had never been so sure and Jack hadn’t either but when he didn’t show up at your wedding venue things quickly went from passionate to devastating within moments.

You still remembered the sound of your red bottom heels clacking against the marble floor as you angrily searched the property for him, knowing he had to be around somewhere, his jeep still parked where he left it the night before. Your white wedding gown was covered in dirt on the bottom as you ran around in a panic.

Urban left the two of you alone only after you promised you wouldn’t lay a hand on him, your fingers sneakily crossed behind your back.

As the door slammed shut, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest, the intense feeling of vomiting that hadn’t subsided for a while was coming over you, but you choked it down.

“What’s going on?” Your hands trembled and your voice shook as Jack sat before you with his face in his hands, his palms pressed hard into his eye sockets as he tried to contain his own emotions.

“I can’t marry you today” he finally spoke, looking up at your disappointed face. He hadn’t seen the wedding gown you chose until now, his breath wavering as you had never looked beautiful, yet so broken.

“Was it something I did?” You couldn’t fathom that you had done anything wrong, just two nights ago you were entangled in bed together, talking about the future as your naked bodies stuck together by beads of sweat.

“It’s something I did actually” he sighed, knowing he was too embarrassed to be completely honest about what was going on, trusting the wrong people wasn’t something he wanted to boast about.

“Jack- just talk to me. We can figure this out together” You were trying to hold your tears in, but were incapable of doing so. The weight of the world was on your shoulders and you’d give anything to keep him.

“I just don’t love you like how I thought” he lied, but he needed to hurt you. He wanted you to hate him, it would be easier than telling you he was nearly broke. He wanted you to run far and fast, away from his life that was about to implode.

Jack had always carried himself with pride, especially when it came to money. He made a lot of it, took care of it, invested in all the right things, and got a financial advisor to help him make the right moves, so when he found out the night before your wedding that someone on his team was embezzling more than half of his earnings, getting married was the furthest thing from his mind. He wanted to keep this under wraps, his biggest fear was coming to light and he didn’t want to entangle you in that too.

“That's fucking bullshit and you know it” You let out a humorless laugh, annoyed at his antics. “Tell me the truth” you pleaded, still standing in front of him.

“I don’t want to be with you! I need to be with someone on my level, someone who excites me. That’s why I’m not going through with this. You don’t even know me, we’ve only been together for what? Five whole seconds? ” he rambled on for as long as you’d let him, the metaphoric knife twisting and turning as you studied his face.

His eyes were hollow, with almost no emotion behind them as his tongue continued to spit venom in your direction.

Without thinking you slapped him, as hard as you could manage, a stinging in your hand as you threw your engagement rings in his face, a family heirloom from his grandmother.

“Fuck you! You’re a coward!” You practically spit on him, filled with rage and anger as you turned your back toward him and slammed the door shut. You had no idea what happened, the man you loved was someone you didn’t recognize and you didn’t believe anything he had said not even for a second.

Why wouldn’t he want to be with me? What happened? Is something threatening him? Am I safe?

Tons of things crossed your mind that night but you couldn’t place why you didn’t believe him, you still knew he loved you but you couldn’t make him choose you and you didn’t want to force it either.

That was the last time you saw Jack in person and you wanted to keep it that way.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you realized how nauseous you had been feeling. You took a pregnancy test and practically fell to the ground when the words immediately showed.

Pregnant.

Finding out you were with child wasn’t exactly the exciting news it would’ve been weeks ago but regardless you were going to have a baby even if you were going to do it alone.

••••

When Maggie didn’t arrive at your house when she said she would, you started to worry. You wondered if you should call, or go to the airport and look for her. You were worried maybe her phone died, or she got cold feet just like her son.

You started to pack Emmett’s diaper bag, having called Maggie twice with no response wasn’t sitting well with you. Your anxiety was heightened, and you felt a wave of uneasiness come over you.

You were concerned about the fact that Maggie had your address, wondering if she had shared it with anyone. You decided to pack to stay at your parent's place, hiding out there until you felt calm again.

When you suddenly got a notification from your ring camera, you checked immediately seeing Maggie get out of the Uber alone. You released a deep breath knowing she had kept her word, opening your door as she rushed inside.

You hugged her, and you felt your eyes sting as she held you tight. Her chestnut curls identical to the ones you missed holding close.

“It’s been so long” she smiled, looking around the room for a bassinet of some sort.

“He’s sleeping in here” You walked over to his bedroom, motioning for her to follow you.

The two of you stood above his crib, watching as he shuffled around. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she came to the realization that she was a grandma.

“He looks-“ she paused not wanting to upset you.

“Trust me, I know” you giggled. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. I’m going to put your bag in your bedroom. Just let me know if you need anything” You smiled as she nodded and took a seat in the rocking chair.

Maggie had only been at your home for a few hours when your doorbell rang, you had wondered if she ordered food delivery. When you checked the doorbell camera your heart practically stopped.

“Maggie—“You walked into Emmett’s room wild-eyed and stressed as you watched her rock him back and forth with nothing but love in her eyes.

“Why is your son here?” You were beyond overwhelmed, the room started to spin and you felt tingly all over, it wasn’t until you hit the floor with a loud thud that Maggie realized you weren’t the least bit joking.

When you were finally conscious you heard a faint voice you recognized, the distinct Kentucky accent rang in your ears as you overheard them talking. Clay had managed to put you on the couch, tucking a pillow behind your head.

“How did you find me so fast though? I don’t understand” Maggie was panicked, a tone that seemed genuine.

“You share your location with us. There’s no reason for you to be here so I came to check it out” Clay groaned replying very matter-of-factly.

“She's not going to let us see him, I know I messed up” She was being genuine and you could tell. Clay realized you were finally awake, as he held his nephew against his chest, he motioned to Maggie.

“She has to let him at least see the baby. He’s his dad” Clay mumbled, worried you’d overhear.

“Clay- bring my son to me please” You slowly sat up on the couch and held your arms out.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t tell anyone why I was here or what I was doing but I’m not sure if Jack knows where we are. Clay turned both of our locations off now” She was crouched down beside you on the couch as Clay carefully handed Emmett to you.

“I need both of you to sit down so we can talk about everything” Your lip quivered, knowing there was no way out at this point.

“When Jackman shows up, and I do mean when because I know for a fact that if you’re here it’s only a matter of time” You narrowed your eyes at Clay, not necessarily upset at him just defensive of the situation.

“I didn’t tell him” Clay sat up straight, leaning his elbows against his thighs as he leaned forward.

“You didn’t?” You looked over at him and then Maggie, wondering why everyone was so willing to let you keep such a big secret.

“I figured if you were hiding him, there had to be a reason” Clay shrugged, his eyes mulling over Emmett’s features as he waited for a response.

“If either one of you can tell me the real reason we didn’t get married, I might just change my mind.”

••••

Part two here!

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow angst #Jack Harlow fanfic

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

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🌱 wedding dress shopping w your mom and ellen... you like a dress but it's over your budget but jack gave his card to ellen and ends up spoiling you

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 704

♡ ─ warnings | slight angst (y/n being sad over a dress) but cute mom/ellen/you moment!!!!!

♡ ─ ev's notes | jack seems like the type to drop 50k on a wedding dress LMAO (as he should)

"Oh my gosh, this one looks like my wedding dress!" Your mom gasped as she touched the dress, a warm smile on her smile. You gasped at that, touching it as well. Ellen smiled as she watched you and your mom continue to admire the dress.

"Oh, does it really?" Ellen chuckled, a fondness evident in her voice. "We have to look at the old pictures when we get home again, I love good old wedding photos."

You nodded, still marveling at the dress that bore a resemblance to your mother's. The three of you were in a bridal boutique, surrounded by lace, satin, and tulle in every shade imaginable.

"I remember the day I found my dress," Ellen continued, her eyes sparkling with memories. "It was such a special moment, just like this one. It's a dress that holds so much good memories, despite the stress that comes along a wedding."

Your mother laughed, her eyes reflecting the shared memories of her own wedding day. "Yes, despite the stress, it was one of the happiest days of my life. And finding the perfect dress made it even more special."

Ellen nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. There's something magical about finding that one dress that makes you feel like a princess."

Your mother began walking away from the dress, looking around. "Anything catch your eye yet, sweetie?"

You shook your head as you sighed. You were still thinking about the dress you had found a couple days ago but you had decided it was way other budget, not being able to justify spending that much money on a dress.

Ellen noticed the hint of disappointment in your expression and stepped closer, her eyes filled with warmth. "Is everything alright, Y/N?"

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to share your dilemma. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke, "I found a dress a couple of days ago that I absolutely fell in love with. It was perfect in every way, but..." You trailed off, the weight of your decision hanging in the air.

"But it was way over budget," Ellen finished your sentence, her voice gentle yet understanding. "Sweetheart, finding the perfect dress is not just about the price tag. It's about how it makes you feel, the emotions it evokes. If there's a particular dress that captured your heart, it shouldn't matter how much it is."

Your mother, sensing your hesitation, chimed in with a reassuring smile. "Your happiness is what matters the most. We can always explore options, but if you're still thinking about it then we should look at it again, babe."

"But it was way over budget-"

"Y/N." Ellen said firmly. "It doesn't matter the price, Jack told me to make sure to get any dress you want. Jack wouldn't even notice how much we took, plus all he wants is his future wife to be happy." She smiled as you laughed.

You sighed as you nodded. "Okay, then."

"Sweetheart, it's not even gonna make a dent in his bank account, trust me." Ellen joked as you laughed again. "And plus, your wedding day is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion, and you deserve to feel like a princess."

Your mother nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the same sentiment. "Ellen's right, sweetheart. Jack loves you more than anything, and he wants to see you happy on your wedding day. If this dress is the one that makes you feel that way, then let's make it happen."

Finally, unable to resist any longer, the boutique attendant brought out the dream dress once again. As you slipped into it, a sense of certainty washed over you. The delicate details, the way it made you feel – it was worth every penny, especially knowing that Jack wanted you to have the dress that would make you happy.

Ellen and your mom exchanged knowing glances as you twirled in front of the mirror, a radiant smile on your face. Their silent approval meant more to you than words could express.

"This is it," you said, your voice filled with certainty.

"Oh, sweetheart, you look absolutely breathtaking," Ellen whispered, genuine happiness radiating from her. Your mom, too, had tears in her eyes as she watched you.

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thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#nhl angst #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl players #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x y/n #luke hughes #jack hughes blurb #new jersey devils #nj devils

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