beautiful brown eyes

Multifandom

[eddiemunsonswife36-deactivated2]

me for the past few days

[ddejavvu]

hi! I read through your rules and I hope I’m getting this request right by you!

I was wondering if you could maybe write experienced Steve Harrington with less than experienced reader who’s never really been with someone who isn’t self centered and looking out for their own pleasure? in which reader just sort of expects all sex to be unfulfilling and Steve’s like ??? absolutely not

only if you’re up to it of course! if this request doesn’t interest you that’s totally okay, love ur work!

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve wows you without realizing it

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. unedited sorry i wrote in a rush before work </3

You're going through the motions: first a movie spent tucked into Steve's side on the sofa, his hand running over your hip and dipping dangerously low. Then slow, languid smiles at each other as the credits roll, then a nudge of his nose against yours and a kiss. Then another, and another, and another until his large hands grab your hips, dragging you into his lap and winding around your back to settle against your rear, thumbs breaching the hem of your shirt to trace against your skin. You're loving the kissing- most of the men you've been with don't drag it out this far, and they're already balls-deep by now. But Steve's licking into your mouth so lazily and sensually that you're feeling something fluttering beneath your stomach, his spit-slicked lips pushing and pulling and sucking at your own as his breathing comes ragged against your mouth.

It makes you feel loved. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine at the feeling, and your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping the thin fabric tightly as your knuckles press against his warm torso. Your hips jerk involuntarily, dragging your aching core against his jeans and he grunts against your mouth, one hand smoothing up your back to cradle the nape of your neck.

"Are you-" He can't get the words out before kissing you again, melting into another messy interlocking of lips before he starts again, "Do you want to-"

"Yeah," You nod clumsily, pressing your neck into his palm so that he can push it forwards, mashing your face against his for another kiss, "Please- Steve, I want you to- I want to- mmh."

Unnecessary words are drowned out by the lewd smacking of lips against lips, his tongue dragging against yours in a way that makes the very fabric of your soul go molten, dripping down to your center and making it sting. You need him, suddenly all of this touching and kissing is making you need Steve instead of being just okay with him using your body to get off. You think you might even be able to get off this time, if he'll just let you grind against his thigh some more-

The second you think it, he shifts. He lifts you first, then puts his weight above yours and lowers you onto the couch cushions. It's understandable- he needs to plant his knees against the seat to be able to plant himself between your legs with enough leverage to go at his desired pace, but you mourn the lack of his thigh, muscular thigh between your own legs as your center settles for empty space.

He kisses you again, even though you're laying down. You feel a hand palm at your hip, and you shift it into his grip so that he can slide your shorts and panties down your leg easier. He must like kissing- he won't stop slotting his mouth over yours and licking into it like he's tasting ambrosia. He's panting, heavy, ragged breaths that fall against your mouth and as much as you'd like to be disgusted by the feeling it makes everything hotter. He sounds desperate, and you wonder why he's beating around the bush so much instead of just sticking it in already.

You feel the bare skin of your backside hit the sofa, and prepare for the stretch. Maybe he'll be nice and finger you first, but you're not sure it'll help against the bulge you've seen clear-as-day through his jeans. He's undeniably hung and you're a little nervous about bleeding despite having done this before.

You realize that despite his hands roving all over your body, they haven't retreated to his own. You reach down to paw at his jeans, your hand brushing against his stiff cock begging to be released from its restraints. He groans- it's more of a moan, really, as his hips jump into your hand, and you suddenly struggle to get his jeans off as he presses his weight heavily, uncontrollably against your palm.

"Jesus," He grunts, "Leave it- wait, or I'll- hnngh, I'll finish too fast."

"It's okay," You hum, suddenly intent on palming him to completion without ever having to stretch your poor pussy out around his sizeable dick, "You can, I don't mind."

"I do," He pants, brushing your hand away though his hips fall to your thigh, "Just- just let me- wait."

He shifts his weight and starts at the buttons on your shirt.

Your stomach clenches as he pries them apart, but you had worn a pretty, lacy bra and you suppose it's not a crime for him to want to look at the way it hugs your breasts perfectly. It's when he reaches for the clasp at the back that you squirm, "No- no, wait, they're- leave it on."

He whines.

He whines, it's a plaintive sound against your lips as he presses kisses to your mouth through your protests, "Hm? Why?"

You don't know how to sexily describe the way your boobs will sag once you take the bra off. It's a push-up and it's holding them together for dear life, if Steve unclasps it they're going to go in opposite directions.

"Um, it's- they look nicer. With it on." You murmur, mortification stinging at your cheeks.

"They feel better with it off, though," Steve bargains, his pretty brown eyes blinking at you as he hovers inches away from your mouth, "But- if you don't want to, we don't-"

"It's okay." You realize with an awkward stutter in your arousal that he's going to fuck them. The lace of your bra would grate awfully against his cock if he's planning on pushing them together and fucking the space between them, and you don't want the fabric ruined so you reach around to unclasp it yourself, praying he's not too grossed-out by the way they fall from the confines of their padding.

As soon as your bra hits the floor, he's wrenching his mouth off of yours and latching it firmly against one of your nipples. The shock makes you jolt, an unbecoming squeak escaping your lips as Steve begins spreading warm, wet kisses across your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth every time he strays too far.

It's a rush of pleasure all at once, and at the way you writhe beneath him he pulls himself off of your tit.

"Are you okay?" He asks, worry tinging his voice. The air is cold against your spit-soaked nipple, and you're torn between wondering why he'd bothered to kiss it at all and wishing he'd just shut up and do it again.

"I'm- what? it's fine," You blabber, chest heaving, "Um- what are you doing?"

"I'm-" He pauses, considering whether or not he wants to say the words aloud, "Do you not like it?"

"I like it," You admit, suddenly shy beneath his intense gaze as he hovers above you, "Do... do you like it?"

"Yeah, I like it." He almost laughs, a soft huff of air, "I like it. I like the way it makes you-" He runs a feather-light finger across your arched back, right up your spine until you writhe, "-shiver like that. And it's-" His ears slowly blaze red, "I like it."

"Oh." You hum, warm-cheeked and dizzy, "Okay."

"Is it.. okay? Can I-?" Steve asks, nodding down at your chest.

"Yeah," You nod vigorously, "If you want-"

The second the words fall from your lips, he cranes his neck down to plant sticky kisses between your breasts. They're addicting, and you arch your entire body into them until you feel yourself leaking slick against the couch. It was going to get messy anyways- you hope the Harringtons have a good dry cleaner.

This time when you pry at the zipper of his jeans it's not for him, it's for you. You're actually aching now, your core throbbing at the thought of having him inside of you even though it's still intimidating. You don't normally have a lot of fun with a man between your legs but this time you're ready, this time you're excited and if he keeps sucking on your nipple like he's doing now it's going to start getting physically painful to be empty. So you shove his pants down around his thighs, suddenly endeared by the way he shimmies to help you, and you take his cock in your hand.

He nearly folds the second you put your palm against it. He bites- bites your tit, and you squeeze him out of reflex, his hips jerking persistently into your hand while you line him up against your slit. You expect there to be a sting, a pull, a tear but he slides in with only a little bit of a stretch, a testament to how wet he's gotten you with his mouth alone.

He feels incredible inside of you. You're fairly certain that half of your pleasure is from his mouth on your tits alone but there's no denying that he knows how to use his cock. His fingers, too, you realize with a wanton moan, as they smooth down your stomach and begin rubbing at your clit.

Steve knows what he's doing.

You hadn't realized how lackluster the other men you'd been with were until right this minute, but Steve knows what he's doing. He's touching you in all the right places, and it doesn't seem to be detracting from his own pleasure at all, if his ragged pants against your chest are anything to go by. He licks a fat stripe up your neck, like he can't bear to take his mouth off of you for even a second, and his lips press to your own again, his voice higher-pitched and nearly whiny into the kiss.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good," He whimpers, forcing his hips to move slower than he wants them to so that he doesn't hurt you, "Fuck, you're- ohmyfuckinggod you're so warm and fucking wet. And your-" His speech peters off to a groan as he ducks back down to take your tit into his mouth again, then trails kisses up your neck until he lands in the hollow of your throat, "You're so warm, like- everywhere."

"Steve," You gasp, his fingers toying with your clit and nearly pushing you over the edge already- really pleasuring you, and not just lazily squeezing your ass while he thrusts into your cunt, "Steve, please, don't- don't stop please, please-"

He groans headily against your throat, his tongue flat against your neck as he pants, "I won't- how could I? How could I fucking stop- shit," He catches something, goes after it like a dog on the hunt, his hips pounding against yours faster now, his fingers more insistent as they put pressure against your stinging clit. It works, it works so well that your stomach clenches and you chase after your own release with the desperation of someone who's been denied it their entire life. You cum, you cum around his cock and on his fingers- Steve Harrington makes you cum.

You're screaming. It's a little embarrassing, really, but no one's ever touched you like this before, and he muffles the sound with his mouth. His lips meet yours again and he drinks in your ecstasy, fucking your release out of you with vigor as his own crests with yours.

You fuck each other dry, you fuck each other's orgasms until you're nothing but shaky, panting, sweaty messes, and Steve never stops kissing you. They get less frenetic, sure, but his lips rest against yours, eyes fluttered shut, nose against your own, lips flush to yours like he can't let them separate.

"Sorry," He breathes, speaking against your mouth, "That was kind of fast."

You kiss him for it, for apologizing for giving you the best night of your life, for touching your clit and sucking at your bare breasts and kissing you the whole way through. He groans, letting you lead the kiss as he melts into the couch cushions beside you.

"Thank you," You pant, "You- I got off."

"I know," His brows furrow, "I felt it. Do you- does that not normally happen?"

"No," You snort, "No one's... touched me like that before. That was really good."

He jerks his head back, perplexed, "You've been with people who haven't touched you?"

"Not like that," You huff, "That was amazing."

"That was nothing," He shrugs, "I could do more. We could do more, next time- or- or tonight, or whenever you want."

"Tonight?" You ask, and despite the utter exhaustion clinging to your bones a spark of intrigue flickers in your gut, "We can- if you want, we can do that. Tonight."

"Tonight," He nods, a soft smile on his face as he presses a spit-soaked kiss to your top lip, a quiet suctioning sound passed between you as he pulls away, "But rest for now- we can wait until you stop shaking."

[folkloure]

⭑.ᐟ unmade plans

john logan x reader

summary: unexpected pregnancy trope! reader is concerned because logan is just starting his hockey career, he acts reassuring. short fic, fluff. requested here and here!

You stare down at your hands, trying to sit as quietly as possible while still being unable to stop your legs from shaking, and all you can think is that this cannot be happening right now. 

Logan isn’t up yet, and for once you’re grateful for the fact that he’s the heaviest sleeper you’ve ever known — especially since he got drafted by the Bruins, his practice hours running longer and longer until he starts coming home completely beaten, dropping into bed while begging you to join him. You always do, because achy Logan quickly becomes cuddly Logan, and who are you to pass on the opportunity of snuggling against the warmness of the man you love?

But right now, if your gut feeling is right, you have no idea how you’re even gonna face him, let alone lay beside him again like nothing happened.

Your phone beeps, marking the three minute wait. You take a deep breath, hands moving to pick up the test, the two pink lines greeting you in such a bright way that almost feels like they’re mocking you.

“Oh, fuck–” you mutter, hands over your mouth muffling your voice, “Fuck, fuck.”

A number of thoughts start going over your head, but mostly the same one over and over again — how could you let this happen? You’re not stupid, you know it takes (at least) two people to get to that particular circumstance, but still, the timing couldn’t feel weirder. 

Your boyfriend is on the very start of his rise to greatness in hockey, having just signed his contract. You’re about to start a routine together, in that new studio apartment in Boston where everything almost feels like a haven, you two finding each other at the end of the day, cooking together when you both feel like it, loving each other always, building a life from now on. Your plans of raising a family weren’t supposed to come now. 

The most conflicting part is that, deep in your heart, you know Logan would be a good father. You know he’d work and work until he bent himself backwards to offer you a good, comfortable life. Even if hockey wasn’t in the picture, even if he had to go back and work at the family garage again. You don’t question even for a second if he’s going to take up the responsibility. 

Instead, you question if you’d want him to, if this is something you’re willing to throw into him. 

You throw some water on your face as you gather your thoughts. Besides a few curse words, you don’t overreact. In fact, you don’t react at all, staring at your own reflection in the mirror, eyes traveling over your body and stopping when you reach your stomach, silently collecting yourself and trying to decide what you’re doing next. 

—

Logan can only assume the change of pacing must be weighting on you. It’s true, to his shame, that he hasn’t been as around as he wants to be, his work hours taking him away from you for most of the day and making him too tired when the night comes.

Tonight it’s gonna be different, he promises himself. So he takes the opportunity of an off day, and after a quick Facetime with Tucker, he has homemade dinner sitting in the oven and a bottle of wine of your liking, a satisfied smile on his lips.

You get home to find Logan waiting by the door like a pup, eyes widening when you open the door, 

“Hey– You’re home.”

You chuckle at him, “I’m home,” he presses a peck on your lips, and you smile at him, “Hi.”

“Hello,” smiles back, “I have something for you.”

“You do?” you say, face lightning in surprise, “What’s the occasion?”

“Am I not allowed to dote on my girlfriend?” He smirks at you, walking to the kitchen as you peel off your coat, taking your distraction to pour two glasses of wine, “This is for you.”

Your face drops, and Logan gets utterly confused as you mutter, “I– I can’t.”

“What? Why?” He watches your face twisting like you’re suddenly feeling sick, “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your squeeze your eyes closed, hands moving to cover your face, “I wasn’t– I didn’t wanna tell you about it now. I– I don’t know what to do.” 

Logan takes your wrists gently in his hands, freeing your pretty face, murmuring, “Hey, no. Don’t cry, yeah? Sit here for a moment.”

He guides you to the couch, kneeling in front of you, “Talk to me, please?”

You sniff, “I took a test, just a couple days ago.”

His eyes run over your face, furrowed eyebrows melting into a softer look, “Okay.” “And, yeah–” you continue, unsure how to say it, “I’m pregnant.”

Logan takes a deep breath, “Okay,” he repeats himself. 

You look up at him, voice small, “Logan, say something more, please.”

He’s not sure what to say, honestly. He wants to scream, and maybe cry, and he definitely should call Tuck again. Most of all, he wants to hug you, and he moves to gently grab the back of your head, pulling you closer, “Honey,” he hums, holding you to him, feeling the way you’re shaking, “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you answer, voice muffled by his clothes, “Logan, what are we doing?”

“We’ll do whatever you want, honey.” He says, hands traveling down your back in a comforting move, “Yeah? We’ll talk about it and do whatever you want, okay?”

You nod against his shoulder, “I– I think I should do a blood test first,” you say, then in a weak voice, “But, Logan, if I really am– I wanna do it. Have the baby, I mean.”

He moves you from his shoulder, hands on your cheeks as he looks at your teary eyes, “Then we’ll do it.”

You study his face in search of any sign of hesitancy, just to find you don’t see it, “You’re not scared?”

“Honey, I’m terrified.” he says, an assuring grin showing on his lips, “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling, though. I wish you had told me as soon as you found out.”

“You were sleeping,” you sniffled, then like it was obvious, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

He can’t help but let out a chuckle, shaking his head. And isn’t that what the whole thing is about? You not wanting to disrupt his plans, even though you can, and should, because you are his ultimate plan. His whole demeanour changes, turning into a gentle reassurance, “You can disturb me all you want, honey.” He says, hugging you again, a hushed tone in his voice, “We’ll make this work, okay?”

You shake your head, hands move to behind his neck, “I know,” you say, fingers running into his hair.

You stay intertwined in a hug, Logan’s dinner long forgotten for now, both happy to just bask in the contentment of loving each other through your unmade plans.

notes: logan being a pro choice king iktr. thank you for reading! requests are open! likes/reblogs/thoughts are very much appreciated! <3

john logan masterlist

[folkloure]

⭑.ᐟ as long as you want

john logan x reader

summary: the first time you stay with him until the morning. short fic, smut-implied but mostly fluff. inspired by one of @rebelfell's headcanons, thank you! <3

Logan shifts in his sleep once he feels you trying to slip out the bed. 

“Don’t.” He says, voice hoarse from waking up in the middle of the night and arm stretching out to find you. “Don’t move.”

You have been on this same bed before, multiple times. First after one of his team’s winning games, two beers in, both giggling on the stools at Malone’s. Then again the next night, then the next week, always a fun fling before kissing goodbye and each going their own way. You and Logan have never had a talk about how things were moving, but oh, they were moving. 

You turn around to face him, his pretty eyes still closed, chest going up and down in a steady rhythm. He looks so… peaceful.

“I think I should go,” you whisper. Logan’s eyes open slightly, eyebrows furrowing before he starts shaking his head, and you giggle, “Before it gets too late.”

“Just stay the night,” he says, like it’s the obvious thing to do, “I’ll take you home in the morning.”

Thing is, John Logan might not reach the same level of whorish fame of his teammates, but you know the guy. Before this all started, you’ve heard through the grapevine of different girls (puckbunnies, if you will) who were once in your position: between his sheets after a good night — but never the morning. 

Guys like John Logan don’t do mornings. 

Your hands move to his head, fingers fixing his hair off his face. His eyes flutter closed from the tender touch, “Logan…”

“I know. I know, just–” he stops for a yawn, half his face squished on his pillow again while his hand pulls you gently, “Just stay, please?”

You stare at his sleepy face for a second, taking a deep breath before you answer, “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Logan’s mouth splits in a tired smile, “Cool. C’mere then.” 

—

He wakes up before you, nose pressed on the corner between your neck and shoulder, the soft reminiscence of perfume you were wearing last night the very first thing he acknowledges. Then, the morning light, and that’s where it hits him. 

You stayed the night.

Logan doesn’t want to wake you, but he can’t help himself. He presses his lips to your shoulder, voice muttering so low, “You’re here.”

“I am.” you mutter back, almost refusing to move and disturb the quietness. Actually, all you do is pull the bedsheets — his bedsheets — closer, bundling yourself under the comfiness of his blankets. Logan lets out a small chuckle, despite feeling the cold reaching his legs. He moves an inch closer, following you under the covers.

Logan moves his lips slowly from your shoulder up to your jaw, placing soft kisses. His arms move around your torso, bringing you closer to his chest. “You’re warm,” he says in a low voice, the low stubble on his face slightly tickling you, “And you’re so soft.”

His lips keep moving over to your behind your ear, then back to your neck, kissing and nibbling. Logan shifts, swiftly pining you to bed and astriding you. His arms are on each side of your body and your hands are moving, fingers brushing his forearms like you’re trying to memorize the shivers on his skin, nails scratching the back of his neck as he kisses you deeply.

It’s all so agonizingly slow — the way he moves, the sun peeking through the white curtains casting a glow over the room, his naked back looking golden under the haze. You close your eyes, and all you hear is a soft chuckle leaving Logan’s lips, trailing down your body again. He presses a kiss on your sternum, “So, so pretty.”

There’s no rush to it, and still, you can’t pinpoint when one movement changes to another, your limbs tangled with his, hips moving together and your quiet moans muffled by his lips. It’s different from all the frantic nights you’ve shared together until now. 

Slower, quieter, lovelier. 

Logan’s voice whispers soft words in your ear as your chest finds a rhythm again, “You’re good, honey. You’re perfect.”

You open your eyes and find he’s intently watching you, and you press a quick kiss on his lips, then a couple more over his nose and face. He relaxes his body, arms faltering beside you, whole weight now resting on top of you. 

“I’m assuming you’re not taking me home now, are you?”

Logan lets out an amused chuckle, “No, you stay as long as you want.” 

You don’t see yourself leaving his bed anytime soon.

notes: thank you for reading! first time writing for off campus <3 requests are open! likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated!

john logan masterlist

[seventiesaces]

love that is pure

Summary: Logan met you while trying to distract himself from his crush on Hannah. As you relationship progresses, his feeling intensify and suddenly this isn't about Hannah anymore.

Ahead: Fluff, angst (jealousy from Logan and a bit of deception), mentions of smut, Logan lowkey being a male manipulator but that's for another day

To Logan, you were convenient. As awful as that sounds, it was the truth. Your entire relationship stemmed from a need. A need to forget. A need to mend a deep wound that Logan couldn’t talk to anyone about. A need to feel wanted.

Prior to meeting you, Logan was an open wound drifting through another party. Everywhere he went, he saw them. His best friend, Garrett, and Hannah. Hannah was someone Logan always admired from afar. She was their waitress as Malone’s more time than he could count and his attraction towards her was quick to develop. Despite this, Logan never got very far with her. Instead, Garrett swept in like a knight in shining arm. As usual, Garrett Graham got what he wanted and John Logan was left in the gutter. 

The two became official just before Thanksgiving break, and with it went Logan’s hope of ever having something with Hannah. 

Only a week later, Logan met you. You were working at a bar not far from Malone’s. You wore a tiny black top and a matching mini-skirt, something that showed just enough skin to entice you without giving everything away. Something kept Logan’s eyes on you as you floated through the bar, taking orders with a bright smile and heavy charm. 

You approached him at the end of the bar, your smile never wavering. “Can I get you something?” 

Logan ordered his usual, making small talk as you poured his beer perfectly.

“Enjoy.” You smiled, turning away to another customer.

That was the first time you met. Logan soon made a habit of stopping by the bar, taking mental notes of when you were usually there to keep track of your schedule. You would smile extra bright when you saw him, quickly learning his order and name. 

On slower nights, you spent extra time talking to him. He spilled his guts about his home life, telling you all about his parents and the pressure he was under. You sympathized with him, telling him all about your own life. You were struggling to keep up with school and work. The bar was your second job along with your full class load. As you got to know each other, you let the smile drop, like you weren’t afraid of showing him the mask underneath. In a way, you understood better than any of his friends. You understood how scary it was to be so close to all of your goals, only for some rich kid or a small mistake to knock you out of the running. 

One night, he stuck around until your shift ended. You exited the back of the bar, a soft coat wrapped around your body.

“Do you want to hang out?” Logan blurted out. He was taking a chance. 

If he had misread the whole situation, he wouldn’t be able to ever face you again. Despite this, he decided to shoot his shot. Earlier that night, he had caught Hannah and Garrett making out after practice. They were holding each other so close, smiles on their faces as they pulled away. They were in love, that was apparent. Logan’s heart clenched at the memory. He needed to erase it. Replace it with something less gut wrenching. 

You pondered his question, a bit surprised by the brazenness. “Sure.”

Logan soon discovered a new side to you. While he knew you were a tough cookie from the way you handled drunken patrons at the bar, he didn’t know just how demanding you could be. Or more so, how sexy it could be. 

You weren’t afraid to ask for what you wanted. Logan was oftentimes just a puppet with a hard cock for you to use on a nightly basis and he didn’t hate it at all. You taught him what it meant to learn the girl, not just a catalog of moves to use in bed. You weren’t shy about your request either.

“Logan,” You whimpered, your fingers tugging at his hair harshly, making him look up from between your thighs. “Higher. Use your tongue more.” 

Your wish was his command. Within a few weeks of hooking up regularly, Logan learned even more about you. He learned how you took your coffee, where you kept random utensils in your kitchen, how to operate your shower, which of your vinyl records was your favorite and that you had a childhood cat named Snowflake. Everyday that he spent with you, he found himself more excited to learn more. To know you completely.

For the first time in a while, Logan was attending a Briar U hockey party. He’d dedicated his days and nights to you, not finding a want or need to party. Dean convinced him to show, even for only an hour.

“I know you have a new lady waiting for you, but the freshman need to see a united front.” Dean begged, using Logan’s natural want to be a good leader to his advantage.

Logan checked the time every few minutes, talking to his buddies and nursing a beer between. He missed you. He wanted to feel your soft hands in his hair and snuggle up on your soft couch, some documentary playing in the background while you talked about your day.

“Logan!” Called Tucker, “Can you grab another thing of cups from the closet?”

Logan agreed, making strides towards the back hallway where they kept supplies. As he turned a corner, he nearly ran into none other than Hannah and Garrett. Their hands on each other, lips connected with Hannah’s legs wrapped around Garrett’s strong torso. 

“Shit!” Hannah yelped, Garrett gently setting her down. She wiped her mouth and smiled sheepishly. 

“Our bad, Logan.” Garrett apologized.

Logan just shrugged, pulling out the plastic cups from the closet. “No worries,” He turned to make a quick exit, cups tucked under one arm. “Continue, lovebirds.”

As Logan walked back into the kitchen, he paused. Something clicked like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. He felt nothing seeing Hannah and Garrett together. Nothing at all. No jealousy, no hurt. He cracked a smile, tossing the cups in Tucker’s direction before grabbing his jacket and racing out to his truck.

“How was the-” You didn’t have time to finish as Logan’s body fell on to your own, his lips quickly finding your own in a searing kiss. As you pulled back, you just laughed. “It was a good party then?”

Logan grinned, “It was boring without you.”

Your smile remained, seeing the bright look of happiness in his eyes, but you cocked your head in confusion. “So why are you so happy?”

Logan pulled you onto his lap, kissing your shoulder. “I just had an epiphany.”

“Big word.” You breathed, letting his lips trail up the nape of your neck.

“Can I tell you something?” Logan asked, suddenly more serious.

You glanced back, shifting to look at him. “Always.”

Logan took a deep breath. “When I met you, I was heartbroken over someone I never had. I…I liked my bestfriend’s girlfriend.”

“Hannah?” You clarified, recalling her name like she was from a cast of characters.

Logan nodded, “I thought I like Hannah. But in reality, I liked the idea of her. I liked the idea of having someone like Garrett did.” He looked you in the eyes. “I didn’t realize what love could actually feel like until I met you.”

You sucked in a breath. “Do you…do you still like her?”

“No.” Logan denied quickly. “That was my epiphany. I ran into them making out and felt nothing. All I could think about is you. I spent the whole night wishing you were there.”

You cupped his cheek, running a thumb over his stubble covered cheek. “What are you trying to say Logan?”

“When we met, I used you to forget Hannah,” The words cut you but you let him continue. “Now I’m realizing, it was never about Hannah. It was about you. It was about meeting someone who could make me feel whole.”

Logan held your hand, “Can we start again? Can we pretend that was never my intention when we met. I want to love you entirely with all pure intentions.”

You scanned his face, noticing the glimmer of sincerity and desperation in his eyes. You slowly nodded. “Yes.”

Logan grinned, pulling you into a hug and kissing your head. This was the beginning of something he had always hoped for. Love that is pure and real.

[seventiesaces]

girl's night

Summary: You let loose with the girls after Allie’s final performance of the season and Logan has to come get your drunk ass.

Ahead: John Logan x reader, purely fluff, excessive drinking, dumb short I'm sorry

“Hello?” Logan’s voice was raspy with sleep as he answered his phone after several rings. He blinked his eyes in the darkness, temporarily blinded by the light of his phone screen which clearly displayed your name and a picture he had taken of you after one of his games. 

“I need you to come get me.” You giggled into the phone, speech slurred and music playing muffled in the background like you were just outside of the main area of whatever bar or party you were at.

Logan sat up quickly, eyebrows creased in concern as he tucked his phone between his jaw and shoulder. He flicked on a light and reached for a random Briar hoodie near him. “Where are you?”

“Malone’s, silly!” You continued to giggle, like his question was ridiculous. “I’m celebrating with the girls. I’m outside waiting for them.”

Logan slipped his sneakers on before grabbing his keys, speeding out of his bedroom. “And where are Allie and Hannah right now?” He hated the idea of standing outside of Malone’s in the dark and cold, drunk out of your mind and the easiest prey for a creep passing by. 

You did a little twirl on the sidewalk, “Well, Allie drank a bit too much so Hannah had to hold her hair in the bathroom while she, you know, threw up and stuff. It was too hot inside, so I’m waiting for them here.” You hiccuped your way through your explanation, hearing Logan’s truck rumbling to life on the other side of the phone.

Logan ran a hand over his face, all traces of sleep and relaxation leaving his body. “You know I hate when you go out without me.” He wasn’t mad. He never got truly mad at you, just worried like a concerned father. It was hard for him to keep you safe if he wasn’t there to protect you.

“I know,” You pouted, “I missed you all night.” 

Logan’s chest warmed at your words, pressing down on the acceleration pedal a bit harder. 

You continued with your drunken explanation, “Allie had her last big performance tonight and we wanted to celebrate. Hannah doesn’t drink at parties, so she’s the DD but it’s hard to be a DD with only a bike.” You snorted at your own joke, and Logan couldn’t help chuckling too at the mental image of all three girls piling on to Hannah’s bike. 

“You did the right thing by calling me, baby.” Logan confirmed.

You smiled to yourself. “I love when you call me that.”

“What?” Logan asked, taking a bit of an advantage of your tipsy honesty.

“Baby.” You repeated, imitating Logan’s gruff, deeper voice. You sighed, “You’re so sexy, ya know?” 

Logan grinned, letting out a hearty laugh, pushing back his dark locks with one hand. “You’re very drunk, baby.” 

“I totally am!” You laughed, nearly tripping on a potted plant. As you regained your balance, you spotted Logan’s truck pulling up, his headlight illuminating your stumbling figure.

Logan hopped out of the truck, jogging over to you. Before he could even fully approach you, your face broke out into a wide grin and you were hopping into the air, arms outstretched.

“My sexy man!” You exclaimed as you wrapped not only your arms but your legs around his body, clinging to him like a koala. 

Logan let out a quick gasp in surprise, managing to catch you with one hand on your thigh and the other holding his keys. “Happy to see you too, baby.”

After a few moments, Logan gently places you on the ground, his hand now holding your arm to keep you upright. Being able to see you clearly, he took in your drunken state. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were glossy, small tears settled on your eyelashes like morning dew on grass. Your smile never wavered, even as you swayed slightly. He couldn’t help chuckling when he noticed the denim jacket you were wearing was upside down, you appearing completely oblivious. 

You leaned towards him, smushing your cheek into his strong arm, “Can we stop for cheesy fries on the way home?”

Logan smiled softly, kissing the top of your head. “Sure, baby.”

Very short but I don't know what to write. Leave a request if you would like!

[seventiesaces]

cat and mouse

Summary: Garrett and Hannah are dating or are they? As Garrett's feelings for you grow, his fake dating with Hannah, your roommate gets in his way of getting the girl.

Ahead: Garrett Graham x reader, fluff, angst, kind of enemies to lovers but Garrett is into the whole time and you're not into it because of Hannah, Hannah playing cupid

Garrett Graham was never someone on your radar. This was a shocking statement coming from a Briar U female student, but you were a bit of a trailblazer in your own way. As a music major, you and the popular meathead rarely ran in the same circles. You had no reason to care about Garrett Graham until the night everything changed.

Allie was determined to add a little spice to her life; as a result, she dragged your whole friend group to a nearby party. Hannah only agreed when Allie mentioned the attendance of her longtime crush, Justin. As for yourself, you just didn’t want to be left alone in the dorm while your best friends partied. 

Live music blared from a nearby stage and drunk college students stumbled around. You stood with Hannah, awkward and a bit too shy for this crowd. Allie danced with Sean (more like around Sean, who behaved like a white piece of bread) while you watched.

“I’m going to grab a drink.” You called over the music. 

Hannah nodded in acknowledgement, her eyes tracking none other than Justin from across the area. 

You laughed and shook your head at her blatant admiration of the guy and headed for the refreshments. As you grabbed a can of hard seltzer you felt someone bump into your back, the can slipping from your hand and hitting the ground with a thud.

“Shit!” You screeched as the can exploded, sending the fizzy drink in all directions. You jumped backwards and looked up, Garrett Graham’s large stature towering over you with wide eyes.

“Aw man,” Garrett grunted, pulling you back by your arm and away from the spray of the alcoholic beverage. He looked at your face, a look of something unknown falling over his face. “I, uh. Sorry. That was my bad.” 

You rolled your eyes, reaching for a new hard seltzer. “Whatever, Graham.” You began to walk away.

Garrett raised an eyebrow, practically on your heels. “Do we know each other?” He was trying to place your name. Surely he would have recognized a face like yours but was failing to place you in his memory. 

You shook your head, shrugging. “Not really.”

Garrett let out a breathy laugh at that. “Not really?”

“We have a class together.” You stated, refusing to look at those puppy dog eyes as he follows you. You wish you could shake him off, but his long stride made it nearly impossible. 

“Are you sure?” Garrett asked, turning on the charm as he cut you off by slipping in front of your path. “I would have remembered you.”

You prayed the darkness was enough to hide the flush on your cheeks. “I think you’re busy in that class, Graham.”

Garrett grinned, provoking you to continue. “With?”

“That one blonde. What’s her name? Lindsey? Lauren? Not sure, but you sure know each other well.” You patted his chest, leaving him a bit speechless. 

You took the moment to disappear into the crowd, ducking and hiding like a small prey animal and Garrett Graham was the big bad wolf. By the time Garrett looked back, you were gone.

“Fuck.” He muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. He wondered if you meant what he was thinking. You finger a sorority girl in the back of your chemistry class one time and somehow a hot girl at a party holds it against you? What were the odds?

As he searches the crowd for you, he catches sight of his original project. Hannah Wells and her perfect philosophy scores. She’s headed for Justin, a pretentious douchebag in his opinion but Hannah’s crush. He watched Hannah striking out, cringing at her awkward attempt at banter before stepping in. 

“So,” You spoke, a crease between your brow in confusion. “You and Graham are what? Dating?”

Hannah held up her hands. “No, no, no!” She takes a breath, trying to find the right words. “We’re…friendly.”

“Friendly?” Your brow pops up. “You? Hannah Wells? You’re friendly with a guy who isn’t your boyfriend.”

Hannah shrugged, avoiding your prying eyes. “It’s no big deal.”

You stared at Hannah, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. “Don’t you like Justin?”

Hannah nodded. “Yeah, but I can like more than one guy, right?”

You shrugged. Of course she could like more than one guy, but this was Hannah. Hannah the hopeless romantic who loved classical music. Hannah who was a bit shy and happy to stand back and watch others have fun. While it wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t the Hannah you knew. Regardless, you were a supportive friend and left things there.

Garrett started popping up more and more in the coming weeks. Despite his apparent relationship with Hannah, he was an obvious flirt towards you. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. 

“Well, well, well,” Garrett smirked as he plopped in your booth at Malone’s. You were on your break, trying to catch up on schoolwork and scarf down some food before you ran out of time. “Who do we have here?”

You raised a brow at him, a bite of a turkey club half chewed in your mouth. “Hannah is behind the counter.”

Garrett glanced at the brunette but didn’t get up. “Yeah, I saw.”

This really confused you. You swallowed your bite and cocked your head. “What are you up to, Graham?”

Garrett seemed taken aback by your question, not used to hostility from girls. “Just trying to talk to a beautiful girl.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting off the flush in your face. You leaned forward, your voice low and menacing. “You’re seeing my friend, Graham. I’m not into you and you’re a slimy dickhead if you thought I would be.” With that, you snapped your laptop shut and left the booth.

Garrett sat there, sighing deeply. That was not how he wanted that to go. Whenever he ran into you he tried to talk to you, even just casually. Your rejection was always instant. You would ignore him or seek out Hannah to take the attention off of you.

“Don’t you want to hang out with your girlfriend, Graham?” You would hiss, saying the word girlfriend like it was a threat.

Little did you know, it was all a facade. A facade brought on by the fulfilling of mutual needs. Garrett needed to pass philosophy and Hannah needed to get Justin’s attention. This brought about the fake dating scenario Garrett was currently in. With that, you were fully in the belief that Garrett was dating your best friend, and strictly off limits.

“She fucking hates me.” Garrett proclaimed as he flopped down on his bed, hand over his eyes.

Hannah flipped through her notes, not bothering to look up as he complained about the same thing he always did. “You don’t really make for a sympathetic character.”

Garrett looked up at her, clearly annoyed. “What does that mean?”

Hannah peered up from her notes. “You’re too much. Not only are you “dating” her best friend, but you’re a shameless flirt. How is she supposed to talk to you? Get to know you?”

Garrett pondered her statement, sitting up and placing his hands on his knees. “You’re the genius between the two of us, Wellsy. Tell me what to do.”

That night you headed to Allie’s Drunk Shakespeare performance with Hannah. 

“You should give Garrett a chance.” Hannah remarked as you wandered around before the performance began.

Your eyebrows creased, confused. “You want me to give Graham a chance?”

Hannah nodded, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look into her blue eyes. “He’s obsessed with you.”

You blinked at Hannah, scoffing. “What?”

“Yeah. Completely obsessed. He talks about you all the time. Everything is about you, how much you hate him, what he can do to fix it. Please just put me out of my misery.” She begged, sounding completely insane.

You held her forearms, “He’s your boyfriend.”

Hannah let out a cackle. “Absolutely not.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been-” 

“We’ve been playing everyone,” Hannah sputtered out. “I needed to get Justin’s attention and he needed to pass a class. One thing led to another and we were using each other to meet our goals. Even worse, somehow Garrett got more and more into you. He likes you even when you’re mean.”

You said nothing, letting all this new information sink in. You let go of Hannah’s arms and backed away. Your frown was persistent and unwavering, refusing Hannah’s eyes and ignoring her calling your name as headed for the door. 

Garrett: So you told her?

Hannah: Yup

Garrett: And she took it…badly?

Hannah: Not sure. She just left and said nothing.

Garrett: That’s not a great reaction

Hannah: Nope.

Garrett made his way to the dorm you shared with Allie and Hannah. He has to do it. He has to make you understand. There was no going back. This was a championship game in the last few seconds. He has to make the goal.

He rapped his knuckles on the door repeatedly, forcing anyone inside to acknowledge him. As he raised his hand to continue knocking, the door swung open. You stood there, wearing nothing but a tiny workout set and your hair in a messy ponytail.

You rolled your eyes when you saw him. “What do you want, Graham? Hannah isn’t here.”

Garrett pushed his way into the dorm, ignoring your scoffing and muttering about his rudeness.

“I need to talk to you.” Garrett stated. You crossed your arms in a way that screamed defiance. Garrett sighed, taking a different approach. “Please talk to me.”

You bit your lip, letting your arms drop in surrender. You sat on the couch, patting the spot next to you. “Talk.”

Garrett sat down, his large hands clasped in front of him. “I like you, but I think you know that.”

You said nothing, just biting your lip. You wanted to see how this played out. 

“I know you probably felt blind sighted by Hannah and I’s fake relationship. I never meant for it to spiral out of control like that.” Garrett mustered more courage. “I’ve liked you since I met you at the party.”

“You didn’t even know me.” You whispered, looking down at your own hands.

Garrett couldn’t deny this, “Yeah, but you were worth getting to know. Even if this ends with you kicking me out on my ass, I’m glad I got the chance to know you. Your wit and dry humor. Your hatred of chemistry. All of it.”

You peered up at Garrett, only to find him already looking at you, searching your face for any hint of the feelings he had. You just stared back, unsure of what to say. 

Garrett cleared his throat. “I don’t want to make you feel forced to feel the same way. I’ll leave you to think.” He stood, heading towards the door.

Your hand shot out, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket and making him freeze. You stood, your hand traveling up to his perfect shoulders. Your eyes shined with something that he had only dreamt about seeing, desire. “I-”

Garrett didn’t give you a chance to speak. His giant hands held your cheeks as his lips slotted against your own. The kiss was frantic and explosive like the hard seltzer the day you met. Your nail dug into his jacket like he might disappear and his own gripped you like you were made of glass. Your knees hit that couch, making you drop down with a thump followed by Garrett. You laid across the plush cushions with his burly frame over your own.

“Is this okay?” Garrett asked, not wanting to scare you away when he just got you to tolerate him.

You didn’t respond, just hooking your leg over his hips and pulling him closer. Your lips found his again. A shutter ran through your body as his calloused thumb ran across the exposed skin of your hip. 

“Holy shit!” Allie shouted as she walked in to find the two of you practically hooking up on their shared couch. She shielded her eyes, “You have a room you know!”

The two of you pulled away slightly, not a hint of shame of either of your faces. 

“She’s right,” You said, running your lips over the shell of Garrett’s ear. “I do have a room.”

Garrett grinned, scooping you up so quickly you let out a gasp and laughed in shock. “Great idea.”

[tellcherhesgone]

okkk hear me out!!

reader and (which ever djoling) get into a MAAASSIVE argument and break up. one day reader goes out with friends and gets suuper drunk and ends up calling rhe djoling in question. how would he react?

-🍎

I've had many a drunk phone calls and texts that were messy but I'm glad that none of them have ever been with an ex about a breakup 😮‍💨😮‍💨 Anyways I put all the names in a randomizer and pulled Steve, which imo is top 3 funniest guys this idea could happen with (note: I wrote this before the dialogue progressively got angsty, sorry 😬)

Ok so, let's say it's post-S4 and Steve dumps you while he processes his trauma. He hadn't told you anything about the Upside Down so the breakup feels very random yet painful all the same. Your friends sneak you into a bar out of town for a night of drinks and dancing to get your mind off of things. It's after your fifth Sex on the Beach that you head off to the bathroom to reapply your lipstick, the spicy amber scent of Tabu trailing behind your steps, when you spot a payphone in the corner of the bar. Remembering all the times you'd stay up into the late hours of the night running up your parents phone bill to talk to Steve, you'd change courses and march right on over to call him up and ruin his night the same way you drunkenly felt he'd ruined yours. The call goes something like this:

"Hello?" Steve asks after the live operator patches your collect call through. He was in the middle of watching Police Academy 3 with Robin at his parents house when you called, ruining the punchline to Mauser's makeover reveal. He's somewhat confused. It's almost midnight and you haven't talked in over three weeks.

"Yeah, hey, you know what I find funny?" You ask with a scowl, putting your hand on your hip as your other holds the receiver in a death grip against your ear.

"...What?"

"What happened in April."

"I don't, I don't get it. How's that funny?"

"Because you, ha, you're funny. You're a fucking joke."

"Babe, are you okay? You sound—"

"Babe? Now all of a sudden I'm 'Babe'? No, I'm not your fucking 'Babe,' Steve. That's what you said, remember?"

"What? That's not...no," he mumbles, running a hand down his face. "Seriously, where are you? Do you need someone to pick you up?"

"There's a ba-jillion guys in here who could pick me up," you boast, glancing over at the crowd of people a couple feet away dancing to some INXS track you couldn't be assed to remember the name of.

"O...kay?"

"And, and I betcha none of them are still hung up on Nancy Wheeler!"

"Oh, here we go. That's bullshit and you know it," Steve counters, gripping the phone tighter. Robin peeks around the corner of the doorway to check in on him, to which he just waves her off back to the movie. She shrugs but complies. "You're just trying to get a rise out of me—which isn't going to work, by the way."

"You run off with her for a whole week, you don't tell me shit, and, what, I'm supposed to be okay with that? Nuh-uh, nope," you argue, obnoxiously popping the 'p'.

"God, me and Nance are history. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Yeah, right. You just happened to realize that you needed me out of the picture at the same time she came back into it. Didn't realize I was such a placeholder to you."

"Alright, well, I didn't realize I was going to be interrogated when I took this call," Steve says, rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna get back to my movie, okay? Do I have your permission to do that?"

"Don't you dare hang up on me, Harrington," you growl, glaring at the ground to stop the sway of your body.

"I'm going! I've got Robin waiting in the other room."

"Fuck, I just—Okay, so what was the reason then, huh? Just tell me why you dumped me."

Steve sighs on the other end.

"I told you, it's...it's complicated."

"No, be a fuckin' man and tell me. What was the reason?"

"Baby, no. You're drunk."

"What was the fucking reason?" You shout, banging a fist against the wall in anger. A few heads nearby turn at the noise but decide not to get involved. "I'm at the lowest point in my life, mom goes missing i-in the most random earthquake of all fucking time, I wanted my boyfriend to be there for me—God, I'm so fucking awful for that, right?—and you tell me, y-you tell me you can't be with me 'cause you've got other shit going on. How's that any fair, huh?"

The line goes quiet. The DJ switches over to Janet Jackson's "What Have You Done For Me Lately," which should have emboldened you in your 'I-hate-you' tirade, but instead, it makes you sad. You don't hate Steve. You're just lost. How could someone who claimed to love you turn around and hurt you, deciding one day that you didn't belong in their life?

"Ugh," you groan, suddenly very aware of the room spinning around you. Leaning your head against the payphone's bulky operation cabinet, you ask, "Fuckin' shit, my head's spinnin'."

"...Go ask the bartender for some water," Steve softly orders, concern lacing his voice. "Hey, you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," you huff, looking up with squinted eyes at the crowd. You spot one of your friends and wave her over. "Gotta go."

"Are you sure you don't need me to pick you up? I can, if you want."

"...No, I don't. Bye, Steve."

He opens his mouth to quickly ask you to stay on the line, but it goes dead. He stares down at the receiver before quietly hanging it back on the hook. For once, Robin decides not to say anything when he takes a seat next to her.

[athenas-rose]

Heyy, I LOVE your work. But I have no idea if you're taking requests. But! If you are I have a request. I know you're working on other things right now, too. The request is, reader losing her virginity with Steve. And while he's thrusting he looks down and notices blood, which reader didn't tell him it we her first time, then Steve gets all upset and feels guilty.

Repeated First Times

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 1k words

Warnings: virginity loss, smut, blood, p in v, hurt/comfort, some angst, fluff

You shy away at revealing you’re a virgin, unaware it’ll hurt Steve more than it hurts you

You were so nervous—which was weird considering how good Steve was kissing you right now. His lips were molded against yours, tongue occasionally sliding past your bottom lip to flick your own, your hands were tangled into his long locks, tugging and scratching at his scalp when he sighed against your mouth.

It was so good you’d almost forgotten you’ve never done this before, when his hands traced a path up your rib cage, massaging the soft skin under your breasts, you couldn’t help but moan softly. But if you interrupted to tell him you were a virgin would he want to stop? Would he get turned off from that one word?

Steve laid you down across the bed, gently, but with enough vigor that you could tell he didn’t want to waste any time. “You’re so pretty.” He took a moment to admire you breathlessly, you were at that point in your relationship where everything still felt light and giddy, you could only look up at him with shy eyes.

“You’re pretty too, Steve. Really pretty.” You returned the compliment and he grinned at your words, nuzzling his head into the side of your neck to press open mouthed kisses across the expanse of skin.

A shaky exhale slipped past your lips as Steve’s head started moving downwards, you immediately recognized where he was going. Though the adrenaline coursing through you needed Steve to be in you right now, before your mind panicked and started having doubts.

“Need you—please, Steve.” You brought him back up to your face, connecting your lips roughly.

Steve struggles in separating your mouths long enough to strip off his clothes, faltering in taking off his shirt then practically ripping off his belt.

Things felt more real when he was fully standing nude in front of you, his cock bouncing off his stomach, the size and girth of it made you swallow. You knew Steve was well endowed, from the slight bludge that always showed through his jeans, but actually seeing it was a whole different experience.

He smirked at your expression, before climbing back on top of you to take your clothes off, unhooking your bra and sliding down your panties.

Steve groaned at the sight of you, “told you you were the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” He pulled your thighs apart to keel between them, you tried your best to hide the fact you were holding your breath as he pushed him.

You gasped as he pushed in to the hilt. “Steve…oh.” You clung to his biceps, he gave you a few seconds to adjust, but it still wasn’t enough time for your walls to stretch accordingly, he pulled out a couple inches before thrusting back in deeply.

He wasn’t even in three thrusts before you felt it, a tight squeezing somewhere inside you, which was a stark contrast to the heat that had been building up in your stomach.

You winced in pain, and Steve’s eyes flickered to yours momentarily as he caught it, he must’ve felt the same thing because he suddenly paused his movements to pull out. “Are—are you okay, baby?” He sounded frightened, thinking he must’ve done something wrong until he spotted the blood that coated his cock, connecting the dots.

Steve wasn’t disgusted, he could never be from you, but you felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you raised yourself onto the palms of your hands, subconsciously shifting away.

“Honey, shit, were you in pain?” He didn’t raise his voice but you could hear the urgency behind his words.

You were quick to shake your head. “No no—I wasn’t, Steve I promise. I’m just a virgin and—”

His eyes almost bulged out of his skull. “You’re a virgin?” He repeated, he was breathing heavily now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve sounded so guilty, more upset with himself than you. “If I knew it was your first time I would’ve taken things slow—I would’ve prepared you better and made it more romantic.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. That was exactly what you were afraid of, but you still managed to make it ten times worse. Feeling tears begin to prick behind your eyes, you moved on your knees toward Steve and held his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault.” You shook your head again, cradling his jaw to try and coax him to look at you, but there were tears in his eyes. “I didn’t want to tell you because I was scared you would treat me differently. It’s my fault, I should’ve told you.”

Steve turned more emphatic at your words, turning to fully face you. “Baby I would never, never think any less of you because you were a virgin. It would only make things much more special, because we’d get to have that first together.”

You understood, and wished you could go back in time to pinch your past self for thinking your boyfriend wasn’t the most loving and sweetest boy on the planet.

“We can still make it special.” You said, nervous that you had ruined the mood but adamant on trying again. “I want to continue if you do, you didn’t really hurt me, we just have to take things slower.”

Steve sucked in a breath, weighing it in his mind. “Only if you really want to, sweetheart. But you have to promise to tell me if you’re in any pain or want to stop, and I’ll stop immediately.”

You instantly nodded, smiling wide as you rubbed the moles beneath your thumb with care. “I promise, Steve I’ll tell you.”

He finally cracked a smile, wrapping you in his embrace to kiss your forehead sweetly. This time, when you tried again, Steve did all the things he missed the last time. Working you up until you were moaning and clawing for him, then finally satisfying you slowly in a way that had your back arching for him.

Just like you’ve been dreaming of with him.

[gaptoothluv]

Lucky Campers

pairing: steve harrington x henderson fem reader summary: when you and all of your friends go on a camping trip, it's proving difficult for you to keep your hands off of Steve Harrington, your best friends ex and your brothers best friend. sneaking into his tent should be fine, what's the worst that could happen? wc: 7.9k warnings: explicit 18+ (minors dni), secret relationship, oral (f recieving), public sex (i guess, they're in a tent), fingering, nipple play, bit of dry humping

“I swear to god, Steve. I seriously don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” You huffed from the passenger seat of Steve’s beamer, turning your head to glance at him over your shoulder. Your finger dramatically hits the comically large paper map that you’re trying to hold straight with your other hand. “We should’ve taken that right, we’d be there by now.”

“Oh, whatever.” He mumbles in frustration, and you watch Steve’s eyes glance at the paper then back onto the road. He shifts awkwardly in his seat, his elbow leaning against the open window frame, the sound of the car driving 70 miles per hour causing the map to flap around in your hand. 

“For fuck sake, can you shut that damn window?” You whine, dropping the map to your lap and attempting to push the hair out of your face. Steve tuts from next to you, reaching down to wheel it up but still leaves it open slightly. 

Dustin sighs dramatically from the backseat, the sound of his head thumping against the window causes you to turn your body to look back at him. “Can you guys give it a rest? This is going to be a long weekend if all you two do is argue.” 

Robin nods in agreement from next to him, her teeth making a dent in the bright red Twizzler she’s got hanging out the side of her mouth. “Yeah, I’m starting to get a headache.” Her voice mumbles around it, you purse your lips slightly before settling back in your seat. 

“We’re not arguing, we’re fine. Right, Steve?” You tilt your head over at him offering him your brightest smile. He glances over at you with a frown, his eyes flicker down to the upturn of your lips and you watch as a small smile breaks out against his own. 

He clears his throat gently as he nods whilst pulling his eyes away from you, adjusting his hands on the wheel as he looks out onto the long stretch of road ahead of you. “Right. We’re just fine.”

You’ve always said that younger brother Dustin was very lucky. He was a bubbly, compassionate kid who had a bunch of wonderful people around him. You’d practically grown up with Mike, Will and Lucas yourself as they were either at your house or you were chauffeuring Dustin to their house. 

Naturally, you’d formed a close friendship with Nancy Wheeler. She’d walk Mike over to your house and end up hanging out with you in your room, watching Sixteen Candles on repeat whilst you gossiped about whatever happened to be going on that week at school.

Even when she started dating Steve, she’d always do her best to involve you, inviting you to parties held by someone you wouldn’t give a second glance to in the hallway, or invited over to Steve’s house when they’d hang out with his friends, Tommy and Carol. 

You always thought that Steve didn’t take much notice of you, that he saw you as Nancy’s friend who was always tagging along, you also thought he pegged you for kind of having a loud mouth. But, you thought Steve was nice enough at the time. You could tell he was very much in love with Nancy but he did hang around with a few assholes, ultimately rubbing off on him. 

But you could tell just from being around him that he thought a lot about what people thought of him, that there was a lot more beneath the surface of Steve Harrington than that mop of gorgeous hair. 

When they inevitably broke up and Nancy started dating Jonathan, you honestly felt bad for Steve. That bright sparkle in his smile dimmed as he sauntered around school, you even noticed him hanging around your brother and his friends a lot more, which you deemed  strange at first. Hanging out with your ex-girlfriends younger brother? But really, it wasn’t any of your business, you just chalked it to him feeling a bit lost.

But soon you noticed a change in Steve. If he wasn’t at work, he’d be hanging out with Dustin. He’d always pick him up in a timely manner and drop him home at late hours of the evening, and you’d have to sit and pretend to listen about the movie they’d just seen or the insane run in the arcade that Steve had. 

Over time, Steve’s name became the most spoken word in the Henderson household. There’d even been a few times your Mom had invited him in for dinner, for some reason beginning to feel like part of the furniture. 

And after some more time, Steve was becoming less your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, and more a friend of your own. So naturally, between you knowing half the party since they were kids and the rest being your own friends your own age, and everyone dabbling between either your house or the Wheelers, you were the next addition to the group. 

The plan for the camping trip bubbled up in conversation when you, Nancy and Robin were walking home from the movies. Robin had come up with the idea of going away for a weekend, just the three of you, before you all went off to college. And you, stupidly, mentioned it in front of Dustin who took it upon himself to invite Mike, Will, Lucas and Steve. 

You’d all planned that Nancy was driving the others up, with Jonathan, and they probably were already there considering your ‘scenic’ detour. Definitely not because of Steve’s inability to follow your directions. 

The beamer crumbled across the rocks leading up to the campsite, where Nancy was already standing there happily waving you over. The sound of Dustin laughing at Mike and Lucas attempting to pitch their tent barreling into your ear, whilst Will was helping Jonathan to unload the car. 

Before Steve could even put the car in park, you’d unbuckled your seatbelt and leapt out of the door. You heard Steve telling you off behind you, but his voice faded into the distance as you were already making your way over to Nancy, throwing your arms around her like you hadn’t seen her yesterday. 

“You finally made it!” She laughed into your hair, her hand rubbing at your back gently before you pulled away. 

You made a face, tilting your head in Steve’s direction as your hands found their place on your hips. “Yeah, eventually. Someone doesn’t know how to read a map.” “How am I supposed to read a map and drive?” Steve said as he walked up to you, falling short just behind you which caused you to turn yourself to look at him. “It was your job to read out the directions, but you were too busy chattin’ away to Robin the whole damn way.” 

His hands fell to his own hips, mirroring your stance without realising. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as he spoke, you didn’t hear Nancy huff out a sigh from behind you and make her way over to help Robin grab the stuff from the car. “Don’t be a dick, Harrington. I was telling you the directions, you were too busy staring at yourself in the mirror to hear me.” 

As Steve opened his mouth to bite back, Dustin stropped his way over, your pink backpack slung over his shoulder as he stood beside you both. “Seriously, you guys. Enough. I’m not lugging your shit from the car so you can stand here and argue.” 

Your shoulders softened as he spoke, reaching your hand out to grab your backpack from Dustin. “Alright, Dust, I’m sorry. We’ll be good, promise.” You threw it over your shoulder, throwing Steve another grin before wandering over to Robin and Nancy.

It’s not that you and Steve argued a lot, because it wasn’t really arguing. Just a difference of opinion, on a lot of things. 

The campsite was a beautiful spot out by the lake that you used to come to on vacations when you were a kid. The water sat at the bottom surrounded by mountains, perfect for hiking and getting a breath of fresh air. There were a few other families here, dotted around the site, an area of picnic tables and even a few private showers. 

You and Robin were sharing a tent, Nancy and Jonathan too, Mike and Will, and Dustin and Lucas. Steve was the only one with his own tent, claiming that he wanted the space. And after a few hours, the group had perfected the campsite.  

The tents were slightly scattered around, Robin and Dustin claiming that your campsite would be bigger if you’re all technically taking up more space. You all worked together to pitch the tents, and set up all your camping chairs around the firepit that was supplied for you. 

As the sun was beginning to settle over the heights of the trees, Jonathan and Mike were standing by the portable grill that you’d brought preparing dinner for you all when you ducked over to your tent to grab your towel. 

“I’m just gonna head for a shower before we eat, wanna wash off the drive.” You told Robin and Nancy, they nodded gently up at you before they resumed their conversation. 

When you arrived at the showers, they were more like an array of wooden boxes with an old, untrustworthy shower hanging from the top panel with just a wooden door for some privacy. When your hand slipped to the handle, you heard a shuffle through the grass behind you. 

“Hey,” Steve spoke gently, not wanting to startle you. You turned yourself to face him, dropping your hand from the door as he made his way to you. “I’m sorry about earlier, shouting at you and stuff. Your directions were fine.” 

A small laugh fell past your lips as you nodded up at him, “Yeah, I know they were fine,” You watched him roll his eyes, but the smile across his lips told you it was only playful. “I’m sorry too.”

His hand dipped into his pocket, the other coming up to swipe across his chin as he turned over his shoulder. The laughter of the group was muffled by the distance and the fire from your campsite was barely visible through the trees, when he turned to look at you he tilted his head to follow him. 

He wandered around to the other side of the showers, turning the corner so the two of you were now out of sight from the rest of the group. When you appeared next to him, his hands found your hips with ease, pulling you into him before you realised what was happening. 

Steve’s soft lips found yours in a frenzy, capturing your own between his as one of his hands slid to hold the back of your head, his knuckles pressing into the wooden wall as he pressed into you. The towel dropped from your grip, your hands flying up to grab onto his biceps for support, sighing into the kiss as he pushed you against the wood of the shower cubicle. 

“God, I missed you so much.” He panted against your lips, his spare arms slipping around your middle to pull you closer to him. 

A happy sigh huffed from your lips against his, your body pressing into his like you’re meant to be there. Your fingers squeezed at the swell of his arms, your lips pressing a kiss to his before whispering gently. “It’s only been a few hours, Steve.” 

“Tell me about it.” He whined against you, his grip on your waist tightening with a soft squeeze as you giggled against his lips, melting into him as his tongue swiped across your lower lip. 

Something about you and Steve that none of the others knew, you’d been seeing each other for the last few months. 

It started one night in the spring, Steve had come to the house to pick up Dustin who’d surprisingly forgotten about their plans. You felt bad, you remembered thinking there was something kind of cute about the way he stood there on your doorstep with his hands shoved in his pockets, that small crinkle between his eyebrows present as he looked at you.  So, you invited him in to finish watching the movie you’d just started. The two of you ended up talking all night without even realising, and something changed from that moment on. 

He started calling the house more, most of the time Dustin would answer but when you’d hear through the walls that Steve had hung up minutes later, you’d pick up the phone and call him. You’d fall asleep on the phone, wake up in the morning to his soft snores in your ear. 

A few weeks ago, he asked you out on a proper date. You told your Mom that you were going out with your friend Lucy, and to avoid anyone’s gaze, Steve took you to Lover’s Lake and brought the two of you a picnic. 

He’d asked you oh so nicely to sit in the car with your eyes closed when he pulled up. You smiled to yourself at the sound of him shuffling to and from the car, and it only grew when you felt his hand across your eyes to ensure you weren’t peeking. He grabbed your hand with his spare, guiding you out of your seat and a short walk before he finally let you see. 

Your heart swelled as your eyes laid on the blanket that he’d laid out, a bunch of flowers resting next to a picnic basket in the corner of the blanket. He’d made all of your favourites, things that you didn’t even realise he’d known you’d liked. He’d packed strawberries, fruit wind-ups, peanut butter sandwiches, Boppers, he even brought you a candy necklace. Carefully placing it over your head, promising you there’d be a lot more where that came from. 

You two had your first kiss that night, and it was magic. His lips tasted like a perfect mixture of strawberry and peanut, something you’d usually think was gross but on Steve it tasted heavenly. He’d looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight reflecting off the lake, the sparkle in his eye shimmering when he leant in to kiss you. He kissed you like it was the first time you’d ever kissed anyone before, and from then you were pretty much whipped. 

That’s as far as it’s gone, though. Just kissing. It’s hard for you to find any time alone when there’s always someone hanging around. Your house is off limits with Dustin always being around, and you’ve tried to go to his house but there’s always someone tagging along. The two of you decided to keep it just between you for now, until you figure out exactly what this is. 

Neither of you would know how anyone would react. You dating your younger brother's best friend? Dating your best friend's ex-boyfriend? God, it was complicated. Too complicated for how easy and perfect it felt. 

His hand slipped from your hair to cup your jaw, his thumb softly running along the swell of your cheek as he smiled down at you. “You look so beautiful today. How am I meant to keep my hands off you?” 

A small laugh fell from your lips, your hands pushing up from his arms to wrap around his neck. You pushed yourself up on your toes to brush your lips against his as you spoke back, “You do it everyday, honey. This is no different.” 

He huffed a sigh as he pressed a kiss to your lips, then another, and another, before finally pulling himself back. “I should get back. Don’t want ‘em to think I’ve followed you out here or something.” 

“Oh? So, you don’t wanna be here when I shower?” You tilted your head slightly, you could feel the small smirk playing at the corner of your lips as you watched his throat bob. He nodded quickly, his eyes dipping to your lips before looking back up to find your eyes. 

“Don’t say things like that,” He spoke through his teeth, clearing his throat gently before pressing one last sloppy kiss to your lips and pulling away, squeezing your waist gently before bending down to pick up your towel for you. “Enjoy your shower, don’t be too long.”

You nodded gently, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as your hand reached out to grab the towel he was holding out for you. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, standing up straight as you lifted it to throw it over your shoulder. He flashed you a wink before taking off around the corner again, you took a few steps forward to poke your head around the corner to watch as he walked back toward the group,

God, you hated seeing him go, but you loved watching him leave.

The smell of sausages sizzling on the grill drifted through the trees toward you when you stepped out of the shower and made your way closer to the rest of your friends, your damp hair wetting patches against the material of your sweatshirt as you swung your towel next to you. 

Your camp chair was open, sat waiting and ready for you to warm it up. When you made your way closer you noticed the bottle of beer that sat in the cupholder that sat into the arm. Your eyes drifted across the group to Steve, who lifted his beer up to you in a cheers before taking a sip from the neck. 

“How are the showers?” Robin asked from the seat next to you as you settled down, quick to pull the bottle into your hands. You covered your palm with your sleeve to twist off the lid, settling it in the holder before turning to her. 

“Alright, actually. It takes a while to get going but they’re fine.” You nodded as you brought the bottle to your lips, taking a sip before settling the cold glass against your knee. 

You slotted right back into conversation. Your attention turning to Lucas and Dustin argue halfheartedly about who will be hosting their group first when they eventually go to college. You sat there smiling to yourself as you thought about who’d be the first to come and visit you in the fall. 

The night wore on happily. Everyone eating their weight in hot dogs and smores, the warmth of the fire and the bubbles of the beer filling you up. After a few hours, people had started drifting off to bed. Mike, Will, Lucas and Dustin heading off early as they wanted rest for the big hike you all had planned for the morning. 

The rest of you, however, spent the remainder of the evening attempting to finish the cooler of beers that was meant to last you the weekend without realising. Robin had you all beat though, the rest of you tipsily giggling at her as she slurred on. 

“Alright, Rob,” You spoke gently through your laughter, trying not to wake anyone sleeping. You lifted out of your chair, pulling her up with you. “Let’s get you to bed, honey. C’mon.” 

Your arm snaked around her waist as you walked her to your tent, you both tried to stifle your laughter at her failed attempt to pull open the zip. She eventually found her way in, thanking you over and over for tucking her into bed even though you just crouched at the entrance of the tent. You blew her a kiss, zipping it back up and making your way back to the fire. 

Nancy and Jonathan sat and told you and Steve about their plans for long distance when they both drift across the country from each other. You watched how their fingers danced around one anothers, how when they spoke they looked at each other like you and Steve weren’t even there. 

You didn’t miss how your heart tightened at the talk of separating come September. You hadn’t spoken to Steve about it really, with there not being much to say yet. You two weren’t official, but when you glanced across the fire to look at him, he was already looking at you like he could read your mind. 

“I think we’re gonna head to bed now, it’s gotta be pretty late.” Nancy laughed softly as she stood, stretching slightly as she waited for Jonathan to join her. She grabbed the few empty bottles that had accumulated by their feet, walking them over to the bag of rubbish you’d set up by the table. 

“You two gonna be alright? Won’t kill each other or anything?” Jonathan joked, causing you and Steve to both push out a small laugh. You flashed a small smile at him, before turning your attention back to Jonathan. 

“We’ll try not to.” You spoke as you playfully wiggled an eyebrow, leaning into Nancy’s touch as she squeezed your shoulder whilst passing you. They called out their goodnights, and you watched them zip the tent shut behind them. 

As the zipper settled, your eyes glanced over to Steve who had already pushed himself up from his chair to drop into Robin’s unoccupied seat next to you.

“Hey.” He spoke softly as he leant back, his hands settling on each of the arm rests as he looked over at you. 

Your smile widens as you watch him get comfortable, your eyes flickering over to the rest of the tents before leaning your weight on the arm of your own chair toward him, your own voice gently as you reply. “Hi.”

A small breath huffed from his nose as he watched you lean closer, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips before he inched his chair ever so closer to your own. “You look pretty. Your hair’s gone all curly.”

Your hand comes up to your hair, pulling it between your fingers from your shoulder to look down at the curls that your shower had left you with. When you looked back at Steve, he’d somehow leant even closer. A small laugh pushed through your lips as you turned your attention to him, your voice a whisper. “Yeah? Do I look like–”

“Oh, no, no. Don’t even go there.” Steve interrupted, shaking his head quickly as he pulled himself back. Settling into his chair and covering his face with his hands as he laughed, groaning into the palms of his hands.

You bit on your lower lip to hold back your laughter, pushing yourself up from your chair and placing your hand on the arm of his. You settled yourself carefully on his knee, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist that was covering his face.

His body openly invited you, shifting his weight downward so you slipped closer to him. His hands fell from his face, one of them snaking around your back to hold your waist as the other held the side of your thigh, pulling it closer to him. 

“Hi.” You breathed softly as your arm slipped around his neck, your other resting on his chest. Your lips fell to his jaw gently as he managed to pull you even closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around you.

“Hi, baby.” His voice wavered gently as your lips brushed the spot beneath his ear that you know made his knees weak. Your fingers brushed back and forth against the nape of his neck as his palm splayed at your thigh, the pads of his fingers rubbing small circles against your skin. 

You nosed your way up to his lips, feeling him sigh against you as your lips finally touched for what felt like the first time in forever. His tongue was quick to trail across your lower lip, asking for an invitation that you immediately offered him. 

The hand on his chest slipped up his body to wrap around his neck, pressing your chest against his as the kiss suddenly turned messy. Sighing into each other's mouths as your tongues fought for control, the sound of your lips smacking together dulling the sound of the roaring fire. 

“You know,” You mumbled against his mouth, pulling your lips back slightly, huffing a small laugh through your nose as his lips chased yours. You gave in, pressing another kiss to his lips before grunting against him softly. “Steve.”

“Mm?” He pulled back abruptly, the sight of him looking up at you with swollen lips and darkened eyes sending a rush through you that you knew all too well. 

“Robin’s probably fast asleep by now. You know what she’s like when she’s drunk, sleeps like a starfish.” Your eyes trailed across his face, smiling against the pad of his thumb as he dragged it across your lower lip softly. 

He pursed his own lips slightly, “Mm. You want me to shuffle her over for you, honey?” He leant forward, stealing another kiss before settling his hand back at your waist. 

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of just.. Sleeping somewhere else.” You shrugged easily, your fingers slipping to his collar as you adjusted it, mainly just to give yourself something to do. 

He studied you for a moment, his eyes taking in every inch of you as his eyebrows furrowed gently as you watched him try to rack his brain at where you’d be sleeping. In his car? In a camping chair?

Oh. You watched the realisation settle across his face, his concerned expression settling into something more spirited. The sparkle in his eye practically twinkled as he parted his lips to speak, before stopping himself. He just nodded softly, clearing his throat as his hand squeezed your thigh gently. “Are you sure?”

You nodded quickly, hands slipping to either side of his neck as you leant forward to press your lips to his. Still nodding, you whispered gently. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Steve nodded with you, his grip tightening on you as he shifted forward in his seat. The two of you moved together, lifting yourself up with him quick to follow. His hands are back at your waist as the two of you scramble backward toward his tent, a mixture of snickers and whispers falling against each other’s lips until you finally pull away from him when you reach his tent. 

As Steve was quick to bend down to pull back the zipper, you glanced over your shoulder to make sure nobody had quietly snuck to the bathroom or poked their head out at the sound of your and Steve’s heavy petting. 

You were shaken out of your stare when Steve cleared his throat gently, he’d already crawled into the tent and was holding his hand out for you to follow. With a short intake of breath, you leant down to take his hand and let him guide you into his tent. 

He pulled the zipper shut behind you as you shuffled across the floor of the tent, sitting up on your knees and watching him as he turned around to face you. He lifted his hand up to pull on the small solar charged lantern that hung from the top of the tent, causing a warm glow to cast upon you and Steve in the small space.

The tent suddenly felt smaller as the two of you sat across from each other, your hands flat against your knees as Steve's palms nervously rubbed against his thighs.

“I just wanted to say,” Steve spoke gently, swiping his tongue across his lower lip as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I really, really like you. I haven’t felt like this in a long time – maybe ever. I’ve loved spending time with you, even if we’re sneaking around and y’know, lying to everyone we know. I’ve had the best few months of my life these last few months, and I’m just.. happy. I’m really happy, to be here with you.”

Your lips parted as he spoke, your mind racking to find the words to reply but nothing could come out, you felt your smile spread so far across your cheeks that they started to ache. Your palms pressed against the bottom of the tent, pushing yourself closer to him. “I really, really like you, Steve. These last few months have been incredible, and I–” You lifted your hand to his that rested on his thigh, pushing your fingers together as you looked up at him. “I’m really happy to be here with you, too.”

His spare hand lifted to hold the back of your head, guiding your lips against his with ease. You sighed against his lips as his other hand pulled from yours to press at your lower back, holding you in place as he slowly lowered you down on the sleeping bag that he’d set up when he’d pitched the tent. 

As you settled on your back, your legs parted for him to sleep between with ease, your leg hooking around his as your hands braced on his shoulders. A small sigh of pleasure passed your lips as he nosed at your jaw, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered against you. “You’re so beautiful, my gorgeous girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“All yours, Steve. I’m all yours.” You sighed with pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers pushed beneath the fabric of your sweatshirt and splayed at your waist. He sucked and nibbled gently on the skin, your breath hitching as you snaked your fingers to push through the hair on the nape of his neck. 

For a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only people for miles around. Your bodies intertwined, swallowing each other’s breaths like they’re your own. Steve’s hands on your waist felt like anchors keeping you down, grounded as his lips explored the parts of your skin he’s only yet dreamed of. 

The fabric slowly inched up your torso and pooling just below your breasts, Steve pulled his lips away from your neck to look down at you. Your teeth sank into your lower lip gently, without explicitly answering the question you knew he was itching to ask, your hand slipped from his hair to your sweater, lifting your shoulders slightly to tug it over your head. 

Steve’s hands lifted from your waist to help you in pulling it off, and when you tossed it somewhere shallowly next to you, his eyes caught yours. His smile widening across his lips as his hand found your cheek, his thumb swiping against your skin as he leant down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

Then your cheek, then to the curve of your jaw, generously across the span of your neck and across your throat, gently at your collarbone. His lips messily kissed the skin across your chest, travelling downward until they found the valley of your breasts, lifting his hand to cup the bra that held you in place. 

His fingertips nimbly wrap around the strap over your shoulder, looking up at you through the mop of his curls that have fallen over his eye. As you take your lower lip between your lips, breath hitching at the sight of Steve's lips hovering over your chest, you inch yourself up slightly. Your spare hand snaking around your back to unclasp your bra, settling back down on the thin sleeping bag as your fingers return to Steve’s hair. 

“Look at you, honey,” He mumbles against your skin as he drags both of the straps down your arms, pulling his lips back to gage a better view at you beneath him as he pulls the bra away from you. His eyes dance across your chest, and you can’t fight the heat that rises to your cheeks as you watch his throat bob. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” 

His lips are soon attached to the soft curve of your breast, pressing wet kisses across the span of your chest. Your eyes find his as his tongue brushes over his tongue before passing his lips, circling the hardening nipple peaking from your breast. 

A sigh of pleasure leaves your mouth as his lips close around your nipple, your front arching into him as he suckles on the teat. His spare hand slips around to hold your back, holding you as close to him as he can as you pant out in pleasure above him whilst he lets your nipple go with a small pop of his mouth, dragging his lips over to the other. 

“God, Steve,” You mewl softly, your fingertips pushing through the small curls that have appeared at the nape of his neck thanks to the humid air present at the lake. His tongue works overtime circling around your sensitive peak, slipping his hand up your body to cup the breast he’s neglecting. 

His thumb rubs over the bud with ease, slightly wet from his mouth being on it only moments ago, his index finger assisting his thumb as he twists it between his fingers. You whine again, slightly louder this time, causing him to pull his lips off of your chest to look up at you. “You have to be quiet for me, honey, can’t have anyone knowing what we’re doing in here. Can you do that for me?” 

You were quick to nod, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you gently tugged him by the curls you’d grabbed onto, guiding him back to your chest. He hummed in contentment, both of his hands sliding to hold you in place at your waist. You felt his grip squeezing you as he sucked your nipple back between his lips, his tongue twirling around it as your eyes fluttered shut, sinking further into your pleasure. 

“I– I need you, Steve.” Your voice passed just louder than a whisper, still mindful of your promise to be quiet. Steve felt your hips shuffle beneath him, rutting against his for even the tiniest of touches. He nodded gently, pulling his lips from your breast to drag them across your stomach. 

His fingers slipped from holding your waist to fold around the band of your shorts you’d pulled on after your shower, his lips pressing a kiss each inch that he revealed until he was pulling the fabric down your legs, letting you manoeuvre your ankles around him to kick them off. 

“So pretty, baby.” He mumbled against your hip, glancing up at you as his fingers wrapped around the band of your blue cotton underwear. Your skin warmed at his praise, lifting your head from the ground to glance down at him between your legs. 

His large hands slipped beneath your thighs, pulling them apart for him. You watched as he chewed on his lower lip, eating away at the smirk growing against them as his left hand rubbed the back of your thigh softly. His other hand slipped around to press against your covered mound, dipping his thumb to graze against your slit. 

A gasp left your lips at his touch, a slight thump filling the tent as your head hit the ground beneath you. Your hips bucked at his touch, but his hand moved from your thigh to hold your hip in place as he dragged his index finger down your slit, pressing it into the wet patch that clung to the fabric as he hummed gently to himself. 

“I bet you taste so good, been thinking about this forever.” He gleamed, lowering his lips to your inner thigh to kiss, lick and suck the first inch of your skin that he could find. He crept his lips against your skin, you felt him take in a sharp breath as his nose brushed against your clothed clit. 

His tongue darted out against the fabric as his hands found your hips again, holding them steady as you felt him ever so slightly suck at your clit through your underwear. You gasped gently, lifting your head to look down at him, offering him a small laugh as you pushed your fingers through his hair. Your voice passing your lips in a fond whisper, “Get to it, baby.”

A shiver grazed your skin as you felt him huff a laugh against you, his lips continuing to suckle against the fabric as his fingers wrapped around the band of your underwear. He pulled himself back as he revealed yourself to him, lifting your hips for him as he pulled them down your thighs. 

You kicked your ankle gently, your underwear tossing to the corner of the tent and before you could even blink, Steve was right back between your legs. 

His hands returned to the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to him with a small grunt. You watched Steve as eyes glistened, pulling his head back slightly to take in every inch of you. “I honestly think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 

Your heart jumped in your throat, biting back your smile as you tightened your fingers through his hair. You tugged him up, lifting your chin up slightly in hopes that he’d take the hint. A small laugh huffed through his nose, one of his hands leaving your thighs to rest against the floor as he pushed himself up from between your legs. 

Your hands found his jaw as he settled above you, his lips capturing yours with ease. Every time you kiss Steve, it feels like the first time all over again. Your lips move together like a dance routine that you learn when you’re six and remember for the rest of your life.

One of your arms snaked around his neck to pull him closer to you as his tongue slipped between your lips. You felt his hand leave your thigh and dip between your legs, grazing over your mound. 

Steve’s tongue licked into your mouth as his finger dipped between your slit, his digit exploring through your slick folds with ease. You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed it down with ease, responding with his own grunt. 

“You’re so wet, baby. So wet for me.” He mumbled into your lips as his middle finger gently pressed at your entrance, his breath hitching against you as he slipped the tip of his finger into you, the pad of his thumb finding your clit with ease. 

He pulled his lips away from yours, smiling to himself as your chin lifted to chase him. His forehead rested against yours as he looked between your bodies, watching as he shallowly thrusted his finger inside of you. 

“Fuck–” You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he brushed his lips against yours to swallow your moans. Just as you were sinking back into him, he was gone. And just as you were about to protest, beg for him to kiss you, you felt him settle back between your legs. 

Pulling his fingers out of you, his palms splayed flat at your inner thighs. His thumbs reaching out to rub along your slit, spreading you open for him as he took in the sight before him. “So pretty, baby,” He whispered, his hot breath hitting you causing your hips to rock up toward him slightly. He pushed through your folds, spreading your slick beneath his thumb. “So wet and pretty.”

He leant forward, pulling his hands back to hold your thighs as his tongue replaced his thumb. The tip of it exploring every inch that laid before him, each curve and fold that he could find. You writhed in pleasure beneath him, one of your hands holding your head steady whilst you lifted your other arm over your face, huffing and puffing in pleasure into the curve of your elbow. 

He noses buries against your clit as his tongue pushes inside of you with fast, sloppy licks, your breath hitching as he licks up through your folds to collect every drop he’s coaxed from you. As his tongue explores you, he finds your clit with ease. Wrapping his lips around it whilst he sucks on it, groaning against you as he holds your hips down with his spare hand to stop you from jerking around beneath him. 

“Oh my god, Steve.” You whine in pleasure, your arm falling behind your head as you lift your head to watch him. His eyes find your as he feels your gaze on him, his hands pulling you closer into him as his tongue fucks into you with fever. 

“Fuck, you taste so fucking good.” His words slur against your pussy as he mouths at you, his nails digging crescents into your skin. 

As he practically slurps your clit between his lips again, two of his fingers sink back into your entrance effortlessly, like they belong there. His long, thick fingers curl inside of you as your back arches from against the sleeping bag that’s clinging to your clammy skin. 

“I’m gonna come, Steve– Oh my god.” With that, his fingers seem to go even deeper, the tips of his fingers finding and stroking the spongy spot inside of you. He feels your pussy clench down around his fingers, your thighs tightening around him as your shaky hand comes up to cover your mouth, attempting to muffle your moans. 

“Come for me, baby,” He pulls his mouth off your clit with a pop, watching your arousal dripping from you as he curls his fingers inside of you. He gathers his salvia on his tongue, pooling it in his mouth before drooling it against your clit. With that, his mouth is on you again, his tongue slippery with the mixture of his spit and your spend. 

Heat surges through your body, dialling its peak at your core with each perfect curl of his perfectly thick fingers. Your cries of pleasure slip out unexpectedly as you come, your legs trembling around him as he keeps his pace for you to ride out your orgasm. 

“You’re such a good girl, baby. My good girl.” He speaks against you, pulling his lips back as he slows his fingers down, pressing soft kisses against your clit as your hips twitch with each touch. He pulls out his fingers slowly, instantly bringing them to his lips as he sucks your arousal off of them. 

“Holy shit, Steve.” You huff with a small laugh, your breath heavy as you lift yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His lips and chin glistened with your come under the small lamp above you, a small smirk growing across his lips as his fingers fall from his mouth to rub against your thigh softly. 

His other hand presses against the sleeping bag, squeezing your thigh as he pushes himself up to inch closer to you. “You taste so good, baby.” He whispers as he closes the gap between you. Your breath hitching slightly as his lips brush yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth before pulling back slightly to gauge your reaction. 

You can only offer him a small smirk, your tongue swiping across your lower lip subconsciously which earns a choked huff from Steve. He leans forward to press another soft kiss against your lips, pulling back to speak gently as his thumb grazed your skin gently. “Should we get some sleep, baby?”

“Sleep? Don’t you wanna– Y’know.” You pecked another kiss to his lips, lifting your hand to push your fingers through his hair as your eyes fluttered down to the tent that had pitched in his pyjama bottoms he’d changed into after dinner. 

Steve shifted under your words, a gentle shake to his head as he whispered. “It’s okay, baby, we have all weekend. But we do have a big day tomorrow.” He pulled himself back from you, shifting his knees on the floor of the tent to gather up your clothes that you’d both discarded across the tent. 

His hands grabbed onto one of his t-shirts that he’d laid in the corner, ready to put on tomorrow. He crawled up to you again, settling himself next to you as he handed you his shirt. “Here, honey.” As you took the shirt off of him, he leant over to grab the pillow that had also been discarded under your writhing body. 

You thanked him as you took the shirt from him, slipping it over your head before adjusting yourself onto your knees. The two of you worked together to even out the sleeping bag, zipping it open. Steve held it open for you to crawl into, and he was short following behind you. 

You rolled onto your side, facing away from him, to give him as much room as possible to squeeze in next to you. You sighed with content as you felt the warmth of his body press into your back, his arm quick to snake around your waist as his lips brushed against your shoulder. 

“Are you comfortable, babe?” He whispered, slipping his other arm under the pillow whilst the other rubbed gently at your stomach over his t-shirt. 

You nodded gently, “Yeah, baby. Are you?” Your body shifted with his as you moulded into one another, your bodies slotting perfectly together like you were made to be laying here with him. 

“I’m all good.” He spoke back, slotting his leg between your own to pull you even closer against him. You heard a small hitch in his breath as you shifted, your ass pressing against the still very prevalent bulge in his pyjamas. 

His lips brushed at the curve of your neck and shoulder, his hand slipping to hold your hip as you rolled your hips back into him again, his cock lining perfectly between the curve of your ass as he mumbled against your skin. “You’re a little tease.”

A soft moan mixed with a huffed laugh passed your lips at his words, rolling your hips further into his as your hand slipped to find his, twisting your fingers together. Your head leant back, twisting to inch closer to him as you whispered. “Tell me what you’re gonna do to me,” He lifted his head slightly to look down at you, his lips parting slightly. “When you fuck me, Steve. What are you gonna do to me?” 

His eyes wandered across your face, in slight disbelief at your words as he began rolling his hips in tandem with yours. You watched as he swallowed down his words, his fingers squeezing yours as he ran your hands up and down your thigh slowly. “You want me to tell you? I could just show you.”

You huffed a sigh of pleasure as his hand pulled away from yours and dipped between your legs again, his fingers slipping to your clit as your lips crashed against his with hunger. Your spare hand lifted to hold his face steady as your neck twisted to let him into your mouth, your thighs tightening around his hand as he moaned into your mouth. 

Just as you slipped your spare hand over your body to behind you to find the band of his pyjama pants, the two of you stopped in your tracks at the sound of a zipper and rustling from outside of your tent. 

Footsteps circled around the tent outside you, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you and Steve stared at each other in fear and anticipation. 

You held your breath to listen closer, hearing Robin calling your name from just a few feet away. Her footsteps trudged closer to Steve’s tent, the shadow of her silhouette inching closer and closer. You and Steve scrambled apart, his hand pulling back from between your legs and your hand out of the band of his pyjamas. 

But it was too late, Robin was already tugging the zipper open just six feet in front of you. 

Shit.

[burgundysnow]

Hooking up with Garret Gram and he asks you, “which way do you want it?” Still all breathless from eating you out and with a light shine on his lips. 

And you sit up just as breathless with a furrow between your brow because what does he mean ‘which way you want it.’ 

He’s the guy in charge, the guy with muscles who can throw you around however he wants. Yet he’s asking you half naked on his bed, in his room. On the comfort of his sheets how you want it? 

“What?” The question seems more like a joke on your lips when you rise, small laugh because he can’t really be asking right?

“How do you want it?” Gram continues and shrugs out of his boxers, flinging them to the ground. “You know. Cowgirl, missionary, doggy. Reverse cowgirl.”

Laughing as he lists off positions you can’t help but smile, he’s a real lady’s man apparently. 

“Missionary, I…if that’s okay with you.” 

Garret clicks his tongue then gently opened your legs, getting in between them and crouching low to press a kiss to your lips. Soft and tasting yourself on him. 

“Corse it’s okay. You’re a vanilla girl. I like it.” 

“We don’t—“ his dick swipes through your lower lips a few times. Tensing in anticipation your hand goes into his hair.

“Have too. It’s just the first one I thought about. Nobody’s ever asked me which position I wanted it in before.” 

Gerrats eyes meet yours and when he shifts to kiss your lips again the head of his cock slips inside, invading with warmth. 

“Do you like missionary?” 

It takes you a moment to figure out his words completely with his dick sliding inside you, but eventually you nod. 

“Then I like it. Okay? I’ll tell you if I don’t like something you know?” 

You nod again. His gentle voice. His thumb on your clit. Rough but soothing. And then finally bottoming out inside your cunt. So close and stealing each other’s breath. 

Its wobbly but you end up muttering out “thank you—“ for being a gentleman? Or being a genuine nice guy? 

No 

For being Garret gram. 

[loveyoubunchies]

Kiss it Better

John Logan x pre-med!reader

Summary: Logan is eternally grateful that his girlfriend was a pre-med student. That just meant he got some extra kisses once the bandages were done and wrapped.

Warnings: Fluff! Could be read as a sequel to Patched Up but holds up on it's own

A/N: Thank you all for voting and as promised here it is. It's a bit on the shorter side but hopefully it does the trick.

Main Masterlist

John Logan thought the best feeling in the world was getting the buzzer beater goal. While it's still a pretty good feeling, being dotted over by his girlfriend after the game was also high up there. The only thing that could top those two feelings was kissing you immediately after the high of winning a game.

Lucky him he got to experience all three of those tonight.

After weeks of pining after you, whether that be showing up with fake injuries in the medical office or finding you in the library with your favorite pastry, he had finally won you over. Not that he had to prove himself as you were already head over heels the first time he walked in for an ice-pack, but you liked making him squirm.

You were wearing one of his hockey hoodies as you sat in the front row alongside Hannah and Allie when he made his goal. Immediately before embracing his team, he found you in the crowd of cheering fans and pointed directly at you making your heart leap. The night had ended great with the team going to Malone’s after and you tucked by his side the whole time. You were slowly getting more comfortable with the group which made Logan’s heart soar seeing you getting along with his best friends. 

Now back at home he decided to inform you that his lip was hurting after getting socked in the face which you scolded him for about five minutes in the car for not telling you earlier. 

“Sit still,” you chided, trying to clean up the cut on his lip.

You swore Logan was getting into more fights now that he knew he had a personal nurse that would attend to him. Though you had to admit this guy did swing first.

Logan’s hands were planted firmly on your waist as you stood in between his legs in the bathroom. He was seated on the toilet seat as your first aid kit was spilled out over the sink. He loved looking up at you while you cared for him, your lips were pulled in between your teeth and your brows furrowed as you concentrated. His hands gave you a playful pinch to your side.

“Logan!” you exclaimed, jumping in his hold. “Do you want me to help or not?”

“Can’t you just kiss it better,” he smirked, pursing his lips. His bottom lip was swollen from the punch.

You rolled your eyes and took the opportunity to apply the ointment on his lips. He ended up pouting at you and tightening his grip.

Everyone knew Logan was obsessed with you. Every party, you weren’t more than an arms distance apart. Every conversation, he managed to bring you up and all your impressive accomplishments. Every night, you were either wrapped up in his arms or he was counting down the minutes until he got to see you in the morning. His teammates would tease how whipped he was and Garrett made sure to let everyone know that it was his doing helping you guys get together.

You were equally obsessed with him although sometimes his stardom made you a bit nervous. Not that Logan had given you any doubt that you were the only thing on his mind besides hockey, it was all so jarring. When you started college, medical school was the one and only goal. Now you were dating arguably the most handsome guy on campus who helped you study for the MCAT on the weekends after practice. Could a girl ask for more?

“Any other injuries,” you said, leaning over to toss out the cotton swab.

“Only my heart,” Logan replied dramatically, “My girlfriend won’t kiss me.”

“You are so dramatic. You should ask Allie to join the theatre program,” you sighed. “Besides you have ointment on them now so you’re not getting a kiss until much later.”

You walked over to begin tidying the sink area, as Logan got up from his seated position. He surprised you by wrapping his arms from behind, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. You instinctively leaned in his touch letting the smell of his cedar wood shampoo fill your nose. You caught a glimpse of the sight in the mirror as you found the sight equally adorable and hilarious.

“My girlfriend hates me,” he mumbled into your neck.

You rolled your eyes and continued to clean with the large man attached to your back like a koala. 

“I should take a photo and send it to your boy's groupchat,” you warned.

It was barely a threat since Logan was arguably the most clingy out of all the guys. Which was funny since you were so non-chalant about having the six-foot hockey giant follow you around like a lost puppy. Hannah and Allie endlessly teased you for having that man wrapped around your finger.

“Do it,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder. “Then they’ll all be jealous that I clearly have the best girlfriend.”

“Only because I’m EMT certified and you make me your personal doctor,” you scoffed, turning around in his arms.

“God forbid I want to spend time with the love of my life.”

“You could take me on dates instead of getting beat up,” you said, crossing your arms as Logan braced his arms on the counter leaning into you.

You really didn’t like seeing Logan injured. Last week he had gotten a concussion and you had him on bedrest for the entire weekend. Though he felt fine, it was certainly a sight watching you whisk around his room feeding him meals and making sure he was feeling alright. 

Though Logan was certainly not one to skimp out on dates. Last weekend, he surprised you by picking you up in his truck and driving out to the rural countryside. You spent the evening stargazing and cuddling in the grassy field. It was when you first told him I love you which you swore you never seen him smile brighter. Not even when he got that hat trick.

“Yeah but you don’t dot over me when we go on dates. You’re mean and take all my fries,” he hummed, lips only inches away.

“You should learn to order something else,” you fired back, slowly giving in and wrapping your arms around his neck. His breath fanning over your face that made goosebumps prick up on your skin.

Logan just shrugged and leaned closer, “I think the ointment has settled.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” you sighed but decided to entertain his request with a brief kiss to his lips.

His lips chased yours when you pulled away so he retaliated by peppering your cheeks with wet kisses which made you giggle.

“Well well well,” a voice made you freeze as you looked over to see Garrett standing in the hallway.

You blushed, hiding your face into Logan’s chest but Logan still kept you in his hold. He was never one to shy away to show how much he loved his girl.

“Is this a new treatment?” Garrett asked.

Logan simply flipped him off and waited until he was long gone until he returned to attacking you with kisses.

[godskent]

texting with that guy garrett graham⠀✹⠀balletgirl!reader.

a/n: maybe i'll turn it into a fanfic? it's a draft i wrote on wattpad, but i didn't dare upload it because everything there is a flop :( // anyway, i feel like this has potential, so i hope you like it, and if you read this, tell me if you want a tag so i can mention you in all my one-shots. i'll be posting a taglist for special mentions in one-shots of the fandoms you're interested in.

[andy-15-07]

Late Night Drive

Pairing: Garrett Graham  x Reader

Word Count: 2217

Request open!

Off campus masterlist

You had been staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours.

The room was dark except for the faint line of streetlight leaking through the curtains, and the silence in Garrett’s apartment had become so familiar that it was starting to feel loud. You shifted for the third time, then the fourth, then finally let out a frustrated breath and pressed your face into the pillow.

Beside you, Garrett stirred.

He made a sleepy noise and reached blindly for you, one arm draping over your waist even before his eyes fully opened. “What’s wrong?”

You went still.

He always knew.

You sighed. “Nothing.”

Garrett, still half asleep, gave your waist a small squeeze. “That was a bad answer.”

You smiled despite yourself, though it faded fast when you looked back up at the ceiling. “I can’t sleep.”

That got him awake a little more.

He blinked at you in the dark, hair messy, voice rough with sleep. “How long have you been awake?”

You made a face. “Long enough.”

“That means too long.”

“I know.”

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at you properly, even in the dark. “Do you want me to get you water?”

“No.”

“Tea?”

“No.”

“A distraction?”

You glanced at him. “That depends.”

Garrett’s mouth curved faintly. “On what?”

“On whether you consider yourself a distraction.”

He laughed quietly, the sound low and warm. “Absolutely.”

You rolled onto your side to face him. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

His hand came up and brushed a piece of hair off your cheek. The gesture was slow and sleepy and so annoyingly sweet that it made your chest tighten.

“You’ve been lying there looking miserable,” he said. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated.

Garrett waited. He always did, but he never let you hide for long either.

Finally, you admitted, “My brain is being stupid.”

His expression softened immediately. “About what?”

“Everything.” You gave him a tired little shrug. “Nothing specific. Just… everything.”

Garrett frowned slightly, the way he did when he was trying to decide whether to joke or be gentle. Tonight, thankfully, he chose gentle.

“That sounds annoying.”

“It is.”

He studied you for a second, then asked, “You want to get out of here?”

You blinked. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Exactly.”

You stared at him. “Garrett.”

He grinned a little now, the sleepy softness giving way to something more familiar. “What?”

“You do realize you’re suggesting we leave your apartment at, like, one in the morning because I can’t sleep.”

“Mm-hm.”

“That is insane.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

You tried not to smile. Failed a little.

He saw it. Of course he saw it.

“There it is,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes. “Where would we even go?”

Garrett’s grin turned sharper. “McDonald’s.”

That made you laugh out loud, which was probably the first good sign of the night.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“And?”

“And what are we going to do at McDonald’s at one in the morning?”

He looked at you like that answer was obvious. “Get food.”

You stared at him, amused now despite yourself. “You want to take me on a midnight drive for drive-thru fries?”

Garrett’s eyes flashed with mock offense. “First of all, it’s not just fries. Second of all, do not act like this is not a very good plan.”

You laughed again, quieter this time, and he reached over and tugged you closer by the waist until your forehead bumped lightly against his chest.

“You’re smiling,” he said into your hair.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I’m considering it.”

Garrett huffed a laugh and kissed the top of your head. “That’s close enough.”

For a second, neither of you said anything. The apartment stayed quiet around you, but now the silence felt less heavy. More like a pause.

Garrett’s hand traced a small, absent circle against your side. “Come on,” he said softly. “We’ll go get fries, sit somewhere for a little, and then come back. Maybe you’ll actually sleep.”

You lifted your head to look at him. “You really think McDonald’s is the answer to insomnia?”

He thought about it for half a second, then said, “No.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“But I think being with me for an hour instead of alone with your brain might help.”

That landed quietly.

You looked at him for a second longer, then let out a small breath and said, “You’re cheesy.”

“Yeah.”

“Also very cute when you’re trying to be helpful.”

Garrett smiled. “You’re just saying that because I’m right.”

“Shut up.”

He grinned, then kissed you once before throwing the blankets aside and sitting up. “Get dressed.”

You looked at him from the mattress. “You are extremely bossy for a man who was asleep two minutes ago.”

Garrett stood and stretched, shirt riding up just enough to be distracting in a very unfair way. “And yet you’re still getting up.”

You groaned, but you were already doing it.

He noticed, naturally. “See? Bossy works.”

You threw a pillow at him.

He caught it easily and laughed, then tossed your hoodie at you from the foot of the bed. “Wear that.”

You caught it and pulled a face. “Why?”

“Because it’s cold.”

“It’s not that cold.”

Garrett gave you a look. “You are not getting into my truck in a t-shirt at one in the morning and pretending to be brave about it.”

You stared at him, then muttered, “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, already heading toward the bedroom door, “you love me.”

You did not answer.

Which was, unfortunately, answer enough.

The truck ride felt different at that hour.

The roads were almost empty, the city lights stretching out ahead of you in long soft lines. Garrett had the heater on low, one hand on the wheel and the other resting near the center console until you reached over and slid your fingers into his.

He glanced at you for a second, then threaded his hand through yours properly and gave it a squeeze.

You looked out the windshield and let the quiet settle around you.

Garrett, because he was Garrett and could never leave silence completely alone, asked after a minute, “Still awake?”

You turned your head. “Barely.”

“Good.”

“That sounds suspicious.”

“It is.”

You smiled faintly. “You are enjoying this way too much.”

“You were the one who said you couldn’t sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to be dragged around at midnight.”

“Sure it does.”

You laughed softly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re in my truck.”

“That is not an argument.”

“It is tonight.”

He turned into the McDonald’s drive-thru and leaned back with clear satisfaction like he had just achieved something important. The golden arches glowed ahead of you in the dark, and your tired brain found the whole thing so absurd that you started laughing before either of you even spoke.

Garrett looked at you and smiled. “See? This was a good idea.”

You shook your head. “You took me to McDonald’s.”

“Exactly.”

“At one in the morning.”

“Perfect time.”

You were still laughing when he pulled up to the speaker. “What are you getting?” he asked.

You considered. “Fries.”

Garrett looked at you like you’d failed a test. “Obviously. What else?”

“A shake.”

He nodded, then ordered for both of you with the ease of someone who had clearly thought about this more than he should have. After a minute, he pulled up to the window and paid, one elbow resting casually against the door while he glanced over at you.

“What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

“That means something.”

You smiled. “You’re very happy for a guy driving to McDonald’s in the middle of the night.”

Garrett accepted the bag and drinks from the window, then looked at you with a grin. “I’m with you.”

That was all he said.

But it made you go quiet for just a second.

He must have noticed, because once he pulled away from the window and parked in the lot, he looked over at you more carefully.

“What?” he asked again.

You shrugged. “Nothing.”

Garrett made a low sound of disbelief. “Nope. Try again.”

You glanced down at the bag in his lap, then back at him. “You’re just… good at this.”

His eyebrows lifted. “At what?”

“Making things feel less heavy.”

Garrett’s expression softened in a way that made your chest feel warm despite the insomnia still sitting stubbornly in the background.

“Yeah?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He held your gaze for a second, then reached over and brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I like it when you smile.”

That made you smile, exactly because he’d said it.

Garrett noticed and looked absurdly pleased with himself. “There it is.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so smug.”

“I know.”

Then he opened the bag and handed you the fries first like it was a sacred ceremony.

You took one, ate it, and sighed immediately.

Garrett pointed at you. “See? That’s what I’m talking about.”

“These are very good fries.”

“I know.”

“You’re acting like you invented them.”

He grinned. “I’m not denying it.”

You laughed and took the shake when he passed it over, sipping through the straw while he picked at his own fries. The whole parking lot was quiet around you. A few other cars sat scattered in the dark, but mostly it was just the glow of the McDonald’s lights and the soft hum of the truck’s engine.

After a minute, Garrett leaned back and looked at you with that easy, unguarded expression he got when he was tired and happy and pretending he wasn’t all that sentimental.

“This is better than staring at the ceiling, right?”

You glanced at him. “Marginally.”

He laughed. “That’s fair.”

You ate another fry and turned toward the windshield. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Garrett was quiet for a second.

Then he said, “I know.”

You looked back at him.

He shrugged one shoulder, still casual, but his voice had gone soft. “I wanted to.”

That made the back of your throat feel tight in a way you were not going to deal with at one in the morning in a fast-food parking lot.

So instead, you gave him a sideways look and said, “You’re very annoying when you’re sweet.”

Garrett smiled. “You say that like you don’t like it.”

“I don’t.”

He reached over and tapped the tip of your nose. “Liar.”

You made a face and swatted his hand away, but you were smiling now, and he knew it.

For a while after that, the two of you just sat there sharing fries, passing the shake back and forth, and talking about nothing important. Garrett told you a ridiculous story about one of the guys nearly getting locked out of the house in socks. You told him about a professor who had spent an entire lecture saying the same thing in different words. Garrett laughed so hard at one point that he had to press a hand to his mouth.

“You’re bad at being quiet,” you told him.

“Good,” he said. “Because you’re better when you’re laughing.”

That made you look at him.

He looked back, expression open and warm in the dark truck, fries half-forgotten in his lap.

The night felt gentler now.

Not fixed. Not magically perfect.

But lighter.

When the drive back started, your eyes were already heavy. Garrett kept one hand on the wheel and the other linked with yours, and the movement of the truck, the warmth of his jacket, and the steady sound of his voice made sleep feel less impossible.

Halfway home, he glanced over and noticed your head tilted against the seat.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You blinked awake. “What?”

He smiled. “You almost there?”

You nodded sleepily. “Maybe.”

“Good.”

“Why is that good?”

“Because now you can try sleeping like a normal person.”

You huffed a laugh. “Shut up.”

Garrett squeezed your hand. “You love me.”

You closed your eyes and smiled. “Unfortunately.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and low and easy.

When he pulled into the driveway, he came around to your side of the truck and opened the door for you like he always did when he wanted to be especially annoying about being sweet. You stepped out into the cool night air, a little more awake now, and looked up at him.

He shut the door behind you and asked, “Better?”

You thought about it.

The fries. The drive. His voice. The way the world had felt smaller and softer with him in it.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Better.”

Garrett smiled, then leaned in and kissed your forehead in the dark. “Told you.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself.

He took your hand again and led you back inside, and by the time you got to the bedroom, the ceiling no longer looked quite so impossible.

And when you finally laid down beside Garrett again, the last thing you remembered before sleep took you was the feeling of his hand finding yours in the dark, steady and warm, as if he had known all along that sometimes the best way to chase away a sleepless night was fries, a midnight drive, and Garrett Graham refusing to let you be alone with your thoughts.

[andy-15-07]

absolutely love all ur fics omg!! could i pls request garrett watching reader with their daughter dancing at the mommy and me recital i think it would be so cute.

Tiny Steps, Big Pride

Pairing: Garrett Graham  x Reader

Word Count: 897

Request open!

Off campus masterlist

Garrett had never understood how one tiny human could make him so emotional in such a public place.

He was sitting in a folding chair at the edge of the school auditorium, one leg bouncing under him, a paper program crumpled in his hand, trying very hard to look calm. Around him, parents chatted, little siblings fidgeted, and a banner above the stage announced the annual Mommy and Me recital in giant glittery letters.

Garrett had already decided this was the cutest thing he had ever attended.

Then the music started.

And there you were.

You walked onto the stage in matching pastel outfits with your daughter, her tiny hand wrapped in yours, her face bright with concentration and nerves. Garrett’s expression changed instantly.

Not because you looked beautiful, which you did.

Because the two of you looked so happy together it nearly stopped him cold.

Your daughter glanced up at you, then at the audience, then gave a little grin when you squeezed her hand. Garrett felt that grin in his chest like a punch.

Beside him, Tucker leaned over and muttered, “You okay?”

Garrett didn’t take his eyes off the stage. “No.”

Tucker smiled. “That emotional, huh?”

Garrett swallowed. “She’s got the same little bounce in her step as her mom.”

Tucker snorted quietly. “That’s adorable.”

Garrett didn’t answer because the dance had started, and he was too busy watching the two people he loved most in the world move together under the warm stage lights.

Your daughter followed your lead with the kind of determined little seriousness only children could manage. She spun a little too early, laughed when she got slightly off-beat, and looked up at you for reassurance.

You gave it immediately.

That was what got Garrett the most.

The way you always made her feel safe.

The way your smile changed when you looked at her.

The way the two of you moved together as if the whole rest of the room didn’t matter.

He could feel his throat getting tight, which was wildly inconvenient because he had no intention of crying in front of Dean Di Laurentis, who was already smirking at him like he had picked up on every single one of Garrett’s emotions in real time.

Dean leaned in from the other side and murmured, “You’re staring like she’s winning an Olympic medal.”

Garrett shot him a look. “She is.”

Dean blinked, then laughed under his breath. “You are hopeless.”

Garrett didn’t care.

When the song changed and your daughter clapped her hands above her head, utterly delighted with herself, Garrett’s heart about gave out completely.

At the end of the routine, the audience applauded loudly. Your daughter beamed, and you bent down to kiss her hair before leading her offstage.

Garrett was already on his feet before he thought about it.

He barely noticed the other parents filing toward the exits or the staff directing families to the lobby. He just moved toward the backstage door with the ridiculous certainty of a man who had decided he needed to get to his family immediately.

When you stepped out holding your daughter’s hand, you looked up and smiled the second you saw him.

There it was again.

That soft, easy, private smile that belonged to him and the little girl bouncing beside you.

“Did you see us?” your daughter asked, breathless and proud.

Garrett crouched immediately so he was eye level with her. “I saw every second.”

She smiled so wide her cheeks rounded. “Did I do good?”

Garrett’s whole face softened. “Baby, you did amazing.”

She looked at you, then back at him. “Did Mom do good too?”

You laughed. “That is a very dangerous question.”

Garrett looked up at you and grinned. “You were perfect.”

Your daughter nodded like she had expected this answer all along, then launched herself toward him with her tiny arms stretched out.

Garrett caught her easily, one arm around her back while the other steadied her little body against his chest. She immediately tucked her face into his neck and started giggling because he kissed her cheek three times in a row.

You watched them both with a smile that made Garrett’s chest feel too full to explain.

“What?” he asked you, still holding her.

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

That was a lie, of course.

Garrett knew it. “No, what?”

You looked at the two of them for a second longer and then admitted, “You look very happy.”

He blinked, like that landed somewhere deep and unexpected.

Then he looked down at your daughter, who was now playing with his collar and looking extremely pleased with herself, and back at you.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I am.”

Your daughter lifted her head. “Can we get ice cream?”

Garrett laughed. “Absolutely.”

You gave him a look. “You are spoiling her.”

He looked offended. “She just danced in front of a stage.”

“That is not an answer.”

“She earned it.”

Your daughter pointed at him like she had just won an argument. “See?”

You shook your head, laughing, and Garrett leaned in long enough to kiss your temple before following the two of you out into the lobby.

And because he had watched you both dance under warm lights like the world was made for exactly that moment, he was pretty sure he would spend the rest of his life remembering it.

[monseille]

The one time you help Garrett Graham with his sit–ups, or where he almost gets you banned from Briar’s gym ⋆ female reader, explicit language, suggestive, dirty talk, dry humping, making out, caught.

─────

The gym was empty, low lights hummed overhead, and it was quiet, well.

Except for the sounds of heavy breathing and the wet slide of lips, which was completely inappropriate because you were in a public place for God’s sake. But honestly? Neither of you cared enough to stop. 

The plan was simple, in theory. You were supposed to be spotting Garrett during sit–ups. Easy. But somewhere between the first reps, the flutter of your eyelashes and the way his hazel eyes dragged over you, everything got out of control, quickly.

Now, he was flat on his back, shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. Every ripped muscle of his toned stomach and the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the Calvin Klein waistband was on full display. 

You straddled him, thighs spread wide, your throbbing core pressed tight against the thick, growing bulge in his sweats. 

Big hands slid down your leggings, gripping the plump flesh of your ass before giving a small but sharp slap, and the sting pulled a gasp out of you. 

“Fuck,” Garrett hissed as you bit his bottom lip. 

You braced your hands on his sweat covered chest and kissed him, desperate. It was all teeth and tongue. His rough palms roamed everywhere, up your back, cupping your tits through the annoyingly thin fabric of your top. 

You moaned into his mouth, “Garrett.”

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He rasped between kisses. Now, one hand dropped to your hip, guiding you in slow circles against him. 

Garrett sighed, his eyes closing for a split second. “Easy, just like that, baby.” 

“You enjoying this, Graham?” You breathed out against his neck, licking the salt from his skin. 

He laughed, low, the sound sending waves right to your aching pussy. “Damn right I am,” 

“Maybe too much.” 

“Maybe, but bet that you’re already soaked for me.” Fuck him. 

A loud moan slipped through your parted lips as you rolled your hips just right, grinding down on his cock. The pressure against your clit was perfect, and with each second that went by, you only grew needier. 

You dragged a manicured finger down his stomach, hooking your thumb under the waistband of his sweats and tugging at it teasingly. How you loved messing with his head. He cursed under his breath, his jaw flexed, the small muscle twitching, and you just smiled. 

“Maybe I am,” you whispered. “But only because you’re such a slut for attention.”

“A slut?” Garrett raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with amusement, a grin curled his lips. 

“You couldn’t stop looking at me.”

“Bold words, baby.” 

“And I stand by them.” 

“Wow.” Thick fingers dipped beneath your leggings, brushing skin, teasing the edge of your panties. “You know, I’m almost offended.” 

Your breath hitched, your confident facade cracked instantly. And your stomach did that fluttering thing as his fingertips slid lower, and lower. 

“Cat got your tongue?” 

Little shit.

“Oh, please shut—” A broken moan cut you off when the rough pad of his thumb pressed against your clothed clit, rubbing slow, almost lazy circles. “Fuck.” 

Garrett chuckled, low. His hooded eyes locked on your face, watching your brows furrow, your teeth sink into your plush lip as you tried to stay quiet. Which, you failed at, clearly. And the sight could have been enough for him to come all over his sweats.

“Come on, baby,” he grunted. “Let me feel how fuckin’ wet you are for—” 

The sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the heavy breathing and… everything in between like a knife. 

You startled hard, gasping. Garrett’s hand disappeared from your leggings as you shoved at his chest. He dropped back against the mat with a ‘thud’ and a grunt, but you stayed still in his lap, mortified.

“Fuck— what—” He started, shoving his damp curls off his sweaty forehead so he could scowl at the annoying intruder who had the audacity to interrupt. 

Said intruder was Coach Jensen who stood a few feet away, looking thoroughly done and somewhat unimpressed.

“Guys,” he sighed. “We’ve actually talked about this.” 

Your cheeks burned, red blooming over your skin. Like a decent person would, you tried to scramble off, but Garrett’s grip on your hips did anything but loosen. You shot him a glare that would’ve made any other normal guy back down, but no, this was Garrett Graham. 

“Coach,” he said, voice still rough, but being careful to not sound too unaffected. Meanwhile, you prayed that he didn’t say any ridiculous shit. “We were just… spotting each other.” 

You were actually going to kill him. 

“Oh my god, Garrett—”

“What?” He laughed, completely unbothered, looking at you amused, giving your hip a squeeze. He was enjoying this. “It’s not like we were fucking on the mat, yet.” Then, his voice dropped, just enough for you to hear. “Though, you were so ready for it.” 

You scoffed, trying again to escape from his grip, which was useless. “I can’t believe you.”

Coach Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose, tired and irritated. “Graham, just keep your hands to yourself during gym hours, I beg you.” 

He flashed a thumbs–up, as if that was enough. “Sure thing, Coach. I’ll try.”

And the second the metallic door clicked shut, Garrett sat up with you still in his lap, one warm hand sliding up your thigh, thumb tracing circles, close to where you really needed him. 

“Fuckin’ finally,” he sighed, flashing you that smirk that always made you make terrible, terrible decisions. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his curls. “I should be mad at you, asshole.” 

“But… I take you’re not?” 

“I actually hate you.” 

“Sure, try to say that better next time.”

His hand slipped back between your legs, feeling again how soaked you were. Chapped lips brushed against your pulse point, right where your neck met your shoulder. “Now, where were we?”

“Garrett,” you tried to argue, but folded the moment one of his fingers hooked beneath the strap of your top and slowly slid it off your shoulder. 

“You know, I believe I was about to discover how wet you were.” 

You laughed, smiling stupidly at him. “Well, less talking, Graham.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[kooksandpearls]

BELMONT CAMELI as garrett graham in off campus ↳ 01x01 – the deal