#// me: huh most of his things come from summer...

[bro-atz]

what we do to boys who are on the run

in which: you just so happened to kidnap the wrong man, and you chose the worst possible one to kidnap.

pair: mafia boss!mingi/afab!reader

word count: 6.6k

content: smut, angst (everybody gets mad at bro), mingi's got a gun!, mingi's also on the run oops, some depiction of violence, wounds and bullets and general injuries, domestic!mingi?, big dick!mingi agenda, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), creampie?, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: hold onto your hats this is going to be a long note— and the extremely sylus inspired brain rot continues! domestic sylus anyone? also inspired by the movie ittefaq (you gotta really squint to see it tho) ONE MORE THING this is my contribution to the @cultofdionysusnet summer event: see u on the flip side; and lastly, i'm making this a sylus inspired brain rot series (sorry not sorry) ENJOY special thanks to choy @skteezcursed @ja3hwa and @k-hotchoisan

what we do to boys series: san, mingi

You didn't mean for it to happen. You went to the airport to surprise your brother. Well, you were going to "kidnap him" since he didn't know you were going to be there, but what you didn't know was that he missed his flight, so he decided to cancel his trip. And it certainly was not your fault for mistaking the man with the sunglasses and face mask for your brother. However, it was definitely your fault for putting a pillowcase over his head and pulling him to your car so you could bring him back to your apartment.

When you sat the man down in your living room and unveiled him, you were mortified. Sitting on the couch was a man with sharp eyes, a sharp nose, and the most attractive lips you had ever seen in your entire life— also, he had a gigantic gash across his cheek. This guy was most definitely not your brother— so who the hell was he? More importantly, how and why the hell did he let himself get kidnapped by you when he easily could've gotten away from you with all those damn muscles? And most importantly, why the hell was he bleeding?

"What the fuck?! You're not my brother!" were the first words out of your mouth upon seeing the man.

Rubbing his temples, he looked up at you with a piercing glare, sending shivers down your spine. "You treat your brother like this? Damn, I feel for the guy."

Still completely shaken by the fact that you abducted a total stranger and brought him into your home, your fight or flight instincts kicked in, and unfortunately for you, your body chose fight. You grabbed the lamp next to the couch and held it in front of you awkwardly.

"W-Who are you?!"

"Definitely not your brother, that's for sure," the man chuckled dryly.

"Don't act smart with me!" you raised the lamp, threatening to break it over his head. "I-I'll use th— I'm not afraid to u-use this!"

The slight smirk on his face dropped when you weakly threatened him. Moving his jacket aside, he revealed a gun while saying calmly, "Princess, that's not a weapon. This is. Now, put down the lamp before you break a nail, alright?"

Your blood froze the second you saw the gun. Meekly, you obeyed him, praying that he wouldn't pull the gun out of his holster. He silently gestured for you to get on your knees and kneel before him, which you did. Leaning forward, he brought his face closer to yours.

"You're going to answer my questions first," he started, his low voice practically scaring you shitless. "Why'd you want to kidnap your brother?"

"I-It was supposed to be a prank... He didn't know I was coming to the airport..."

"Why didn't you think to check who I was first before deciding to kidnap me?"

"You were wearing the sunglasses and the mask— You looked like my brother from behind, so I just acted— I got confused," you rambled, your brain desperately trying to keep it together while you answered his question.

"I see," he nodded and leaned back. "And what about your brother?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were at the airport to kidnap your brother, right? Is he on his way?"

"I— I don't know," you stuttered.

"Call him. Find out," he nodded.

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to see that you didn't have to call him— he texted you the entire saga on how he missed his flight and that he would not be visiting since the airplane tickets were too expensive.

"Well?" the man asked after several moments of silence passed.

"He's not coming..." you whispered, suddenly realizing that your chance at survival diminished significantly due to the fact that no one was going to come to your apartment.

"Good."

Good? Why good?!

"What do—"

"No, princess. I'm not done asking questions just yet," he interrupted you. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"I-In the bathroom..."

"Where is the bathroom?"

"Down the hall..."

The man stood up and immediately winced, his hand flying to his stomach to clench it. He took one step away from you, only to turn on his heel. He did the thing you feared he would do: he took his gun out of his holster. You were practically near tears seeing the gun so close to you.

"Take me there. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Nodding, you led him to the bathroom. He didn't touch you, but he forced you to enter the bathroom first, ensuring that you wouldn't be able to escape.

I kidnapped him, so why am I the one being held hostage?

He put his gun down on the sink and started looking through the cabinets for the first aid kit, but he was looking in all the wrong places, so you cleared your throat and asked, "Can I get it for you?"

He froze. He looked at you, then nodded once. You grabbed the first aid kit from where it was and set it down on the sink next to the gun. You considered using that chance to grab the gun and use it on him, but you didn't have the courage to do that— plus, you knew that you were somehow going to manage to shoot yourself in the process.

The man opened the box and grabbed a couple different things from the box— you couldn't tell what he grabbed because the lid of the box blocked your view— then started taking his jacket and shirt off. You immediately looked away, unsure of what to do at that moment. Sure, you could've looked at him warily since he was holding you hostage, but you also didn't want him biting your head off for looking at him while he did what he had to do.

As you pondered these questions, you heard him hiss in pain, immediately snapping your attention to him. You barely acknowledged how defined the muscles on his torso were before realizing he was cleaning a wound on his waist, instantly making you panic.

"You were stabbed?! You should go to the hospital!"

"I wasn't stabbed, I was grazed by a bullet," he replied while rolling his eyes. "And do you really think a guy like me should be in a hospital? I'll get arrested."

"Maybe for the gun, but if you're not a bad guy—"

"I would like to think that I am—" he interrupted you. "A bad guy."

"W-What do you mean...?"

"Oh, princess... You really should be careful next time you try to abduct someone..."

He set down the stuff from the kit and took a step towards you. Your back was pressing uncomfortably against the sink countertop as he pinned you in place, his face lowering to meet yours. Despite the fresh scar on his face and his general lack of warmth, you had to admit that he was kind of hot.

You felt your face flush with warmth, and you immediately avoided eye contact. The man stifled a snicker as he smirked. "You're cute, princess," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

He finally moved away from you to tend to his wound, letting you breathe. You kept your eyes on the ground, but your eyes would occasionally flit over to him to see what he was doing. He cleaned up the wound and was bandaging it when you glanced at him the seventh time. Surprisingly, he cleaned up after himself and closed the kit before putting it back where you got it out from. You kind of expected him to tell you to do that— but at this point, you didn't know what to expect.

"Come."

He held the gun in front of you again, and your nerves ran cold again. You left the bathroom first, the man following after you. You returned to the living room where he sat down on the couch with a grunt and you stood in front of him.

"So, since you kidnapped me," the man started, nearly making you roll your eyes at him. "I think it's only fair that you deal with the consequences and let me stay here a while."

"Huh?"

"I need a place to lay low. I was going to make other arrangements, but... I wouldn't mind staying in some princess's frilly little apartment."

You gritted your teeth and did your best to keep from yelling at him. After all, he could definitely kill you if you acted up. 

"I suppose that makes sense," you bit out.

"Great then—"

"But! I have some conditions."

You watched the man's gaze harden. You held your breath as he leaned forward, his gun still in hand. You were terrified he was going to hold it up, but he didn't.

"Never interrupt me, princess," he said, his deep voice scaring the shit out of you.

"Sorry," you squeaked.

He leaned back into the couch. He set his gun next to him, and you let go of the breath you had been holding.

"What are these conditions of yours?"

"If you're going to stay here, then you need to answer some questions I have for you," you stipulated.

"Alright," he said with a massive sigh. "You get one question."

"Only one?"

"Is that the question you want to ask?"

"No! No," you shook your head. "Just— Hold on."

The man looked at you as you thought about all the questions you had for him. Truth be told, you didn't want to know anything about his injury or his gun because that was just a nightmare waiting to happen. Finally, you settled on your question.

"Why do you want to stay here?" you asked.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Wait! Then, I want one more question since you technically didn't answer my last one," you countered.

"Fine."

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

"...Mingi."

The night after you kidnapped Mingi, you looked him up online, and while you did struggle a bit, you managed to find some articles about him and his gang. The more you uncovered about him, the more terrified you became of him. To think he used that gun to actually kill someone meant that he wasn't joking when he held the gun to your head— that thing was definitely loaded with real bullets.

You didn't know how long he was going to stay for, but when one of his underlings delivered a package— the biggest box you had ever seen— to your workplace, you figured he was going to be there for a while. You wanted to tell him off, but knowing that he hid his gun from you but could use it at any time made you keep your damn mouth shut.

Despite this home invader maximizing your anxiety, Mingi was surprisingly helpful and respectful, which only made you more wary of him.

Honestly, he was kind of like a dog if dogs had thumbs. You didn't have to worry if he would be gone when you left for work because he definitely made himself at home on your couch and promised you that he'd be waiting for you to get back— although, the first time he said it, it was more like a threat, like "if you don't come back home and try to tell the cops, I will kill you," type thing— but after that, it really was like walking home to a loyal dog. A loyal dog who would have dinner ready for you the second you got home.

"Hey, princess, you're home," Mingi greeted from the kitchen as soon as you walked through the threshold.

That was another thing. He still called you princess. And again, you wanted to tell him to stop, but you were too damn afraid to say anything to him.

"Yeah," you replied, exhausted. "I am..."

You threw your bag somewhere in the living room then trudged to your bedroom before flopping onto the bed. Your day at work was fine, but living with the mafia boss drained all of the energy from you that every action you made took twice the amount of effort that it should've. The second your face hit the pillow, you passed out.

When you woke up later that night, you woke up to see food for you on the kitchen countertop with a little note from Mingi that simply read "eat". You glanced at him on the couch where he was peacefully sleeping, the blanket he used to cover himself slowly slipping off his body.

That was your first mistake with the mafia boss. You shouldn't have cared, but you couldn't help it. You fixed the blanket for him. When you fixed it, he snuggled into the blanket and let out the softest sigh, your heart skipping a beat. You froze when he adjusted his sleeping position, worried that he would wake up, but he didn't. Carefully, you made your way back to the kitchen, ate the food he left for you, then went back to bed.

After seeing him sleep peacefully that one singular time, you unintentionally lowered your guard around the man.

One day, you got home from work to see Mingi sitting in the kitchen. He was on the phone with someone, but you couldn't tell who because the second you entered the room, he hung up.

"Who were you talking to?" you couldn't help but ask.

"None of your concern," Mingi brushed your question off. "How was work today?"

"Tiring... I think I'm going to go take a nap—"

"Don't do that. If you take a nap now, then you're going to be awake all night, and then you'll be even more tired at work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Saturday, Mingi," you pointed out.

"Oh... Well, don't take a nap. Keep me company."

Your stomach flipped. You had no idea why, but it did. Maybe you were scared— the man wasn't exactly an angel, and the way he said it was a little nerve-wracking, but he didn't sound malicious. Regardless of your confusion, you decided to just listen to him.

You sat at the kitchen island while Mingi went into the kitchen to start making something. As you sat there, however, you felt your eyes getting heavy, so you stood up and joined him near the stove, watching him as he tossed a couple of vegetables into the pan. You stared at the vegetables just tossing and turning, your eyes starting to get even heavier than before. Before long, your eyes were fully closed, and you started leaning towards Mingi. The second your body came in contact with his, though, you jerked awake and stood up perfectly straight.

"Did you just fall asleep standing up?" he asked with slight amusement as he looked at you, but the straight look on his face suggested that he was anything but amused.

"...Yes."

Mingi lips curled upwards into a slight smirk as he looked back to the stove. He smirked, and your heart fluttered. Your freaking heart fluttered for the mafia boss's insane side profile and devilish grin.

You were done for.

You don't know when the dynamic started shifting for the two of you. Heck, you didn't even know when you went from fearing for your life to enjoying every second you spent with the mafia boss.

Since he pretty much refused to leave your apartment, and you didn't have much of a social life outside of work, you were alone in your apartment together a lot. You started hanging out with Mingi more as a way to keep yourself from taking a nap as soon as you got back from work, and to fill the time between getting home and bedtime, you watched movies, played games, and just talked with the guy. He never told you anything about himself, but he could somehow talk about anything and everything for hours and hours on end.

One night, the two of you were watching a pretty innocent movie— so innocent to the point where it was honestly boring the shit out of you. You stifled a yawn as you and Mingi sat on your couch while watching the movie.

"Come on, the movie isn't that boring," he commented when he saw you actually yawn.

"I'm tired, and this is the world's slowest movie. I'm going to yawn," you retorted.

"Maybe we should change it then..."

Mingi grabbed the TV remote and flipped the channel, the next channel immediately showing the most intimate scene you had ever seen in a movie in your entire life. The second the scene appeared, you heard the characters on screen moan loudly. You choked on your spit and looked away while Mingi panicked and turned off the TV.

Silence filled the living room. You buried your face in your hands. Mingi covered his mouth with his hand. Neither of you dared to speak or even look at each other. The silence continued to persist until Mingi cleared his throat.

"I... Um..." he tried to clear the air with a wavering voice. "M-Maybe we shouldn't watch a movie tonight..."

"Y-Yeah..."

There was another bout of awkward silence. You stood up and silently retreated to your room. Before you closed the door, you squeaked out a quick "good night" to the man in the living room, only to bury yourself in your bedsheets. Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning— the moment was definitely not expected and awkward, but despite how insane the circumstances were, you were somehow turned on.

The dynamic definitely shifted after that point.

You and Mingi were still friendly with each other, but there was always something underlying in every interaction the two of you shared. It was either prolonged eye contact, or electricity every time the two of you briefly made physical contact with each other. Honestly, Mingi just breathing made you feel like your entire body was on fire, and the longer the tension persisted, the more desperate you got for him to do something— anything— with you. 

However, you lacked the courage to tell him that. So, one day, you sat yourself down in front of your vanity mirror in your bedroom and gave yourself a pep talk. Well, you were actually getting ready for an office party you were expected to go to, but you talked yourself into finally making some sort of move on him when you got back from the party.

As you got ready, you planned it out in your head. You were going to slip out of the apartment without Mingi knowing that you left, have only one drink at the party, and then come home immediately after. Luckily, you were able to do just that— you didn't run into Mingi on your way out, you managed to only get through the party on one glass of wine, and you returned home shortly thereafter.

When you got home and opened the door, Mingi didn't expect to see you wearing the tightest dress he had ever seen you wear. His brain short-circuited the longer he stared at the beautiful shape of your body, his eyes drawn to the way the dress hugged your bosom so tightly that it seemed like your chest was ready to pop out of the dress.

"I was wondering where you went," he murmured when you walked back into the apartment.

"There was a company party. I had to go," you sighed as you took your heels off, your sigh slightly turning into a moan of relief.

Mingi gulped nervously when he heard you, his body flushing with heat. It only got worse for him when you shook out your hair, messing it up a little.

As you ran your fingers through your hair, you couldn't help but notice the peculiar look on his face. Sober you would've just dismissed it, but you had enough liquid courage inside you to open your mouth and tease him.

"What is it?" you asked him, a smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing," he immediately responded while sucking in a breath.

You took a step towards him, your body mere centimeters from his. You held his arm, prompting him to look directly into your eyes.

"It doesn't seem like nothing," you whispered.

The man pressed his lips together and exhaled slowly through his nose, his entire body tingling when you rubbed his arm slowly with the faintest touch.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you, princess?"

You bit your lower lip and nodded, a smile playing on your lips. Your hand moved from his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck, your fingers tracing a line down the back of his neck. You closed the distance between you, pressing your body against his. Mingi exhaled slowly, heavily, and he let out a little grunt when you pulled his face towards yours, your lips barely brushing against his.

Mingi looked at you with wide eyes. When you kissed him properly, he acted without another thought. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back harshly, hungrily. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, his large hands cupping underneath and pulling you upwards so that he wouldn't have to bend as much to kiss you.

You clung to Mingi's shoulders when you felt his tongue push into your mouth, making a moan slip out of your mouth. You met his intensity with your own to the point where you were kissing him as if your life depended on it. Your hands desperately clung to him before you ran one hand down his chest, down his stomach, to his waist. You cupped your hand over his clothed hard-on, and that's when everything suddenly changed.

The second he felt your hand on his cock, Mingi pushed you away. He was breathing heavily as he increased the space between the two of you, his chest heaving as he avoided eye contact with you.

"No..." he muttered between breaths. "We shouldn't..."

"What? Why not?"

Mingi bit his lower lip in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. He racked his brain for the proper justification, but he just couldn't come up with anything.

"I... I can't explain."

You huffed in frustration. "You can't keep using that as an excuse, Mingi—"

"Please don't be mad," he interrupted you. "It's just... Can you just trust me when I say we shouldn't?"

"You, the guy with a gun? You want me to trust you?"

"Please."

You took a step away from Mingi. You pushed your hair out of your face and avoided eye contact with him. You were filled with frustration and anger at that point, but you knew that arguing with him was pointless.

"Fine," you finally bit out. "Whatever."

With that, you stormed off to your room and slammed the door behind you.

You and Mingi were walking on eggshells around each other the days following. The two of you couldn't be in the same room after that night. You weren't mad at Mingi anymore, but you didn't want to be anywhere near him because you were still so frustrated with him. That, and every time you were in a room with each other, the sexual tension shot through the roof.

Mingi was on the phone one night when you entered the living room wearing nothing but a robe. You just finished your shower, but you had yet to put clothes on because you needed to find your headband before you could start your night routine.

"Alright, sounds good," Mingi spoke quietly, his eyes tracking your every movement as you searched the living room.

He hung up and continued to watch you warily, his eyes locking on you every single time you bent over to search.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"My headband," you responded.

You started searching between the sofa cushions for the headband— the same sofa that Mingi was sitting on. Mingi refused to move as you continued to search, irritating you further. He was sitting right on one of the cracks. You stood in front of him and frowned at him when you realized that there was no way in hell he was going to move.

"Mingi, move," you tried ordering him even though you knew it was pointless.

Mingi's gaze hardened. You tried to move him yourself, but the second your limbs got close to him, he grabbed you and pinned you down to the couch.

"What the hell—"

"You're doing this intentionally, princess, and you know it," Mingi interrupted, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't. Don't fucking try me," he interrupted again, his face lowering towards yours.

You stopped breathing when you felt more of Mingi's body weight on you the closer he pressed himself to you. His knee pushed right between your legs, and his nose brushed against your jawline before he buried his face in the nook of your neck while inhaling deeply. Your entire body trembled when you felt his sensual breath on your neck.

"Mingi," you uttered when he let go of your arms so he could wrap his around you. "You better not be teasing me..."

"You think I would be teasing you right now?" he exhaled shakily.

"After what happened last time? Yes, I do."

Mingi stopped. He moved up and locked eyes with you, and you saw the deep, dark lust swirling in his eyes. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest when you saw the way he was looking at you. He wanted you the same way you wanted him, and there was no way he was going to push you away the same way he did last time.

Rather than continue in the living room, Mingi lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down in your bed and untied your robe, revealing your bare body. He once again buried his face in your neck, but this time he cupped your breasts, his large hand massaging your breasts as he left soft kisses all over your neck. You moaned slightly as held onto his shoulders tightly, your body beginning to writhe beneath him.

"Mingi," you whimpered in a hushed tone.

"Yes, princess?" Mingi murmured into your skin.

You didn't know what to say— part of you wanted to beg him for more, but he was barely doing anything, so you wanted to beg him to just fuck you already, but you knew that he wasn't going to just do as you asked so quickly. You settled for cupping his face and bringing him to meet your gaze briefly before locking lips gently with him.

He kissed you gently at first, meeting the same energy, but when you brought your knee up between his legs, his breathing hitched, and he kissed you a lot more forcefully. You moved your hands to the back of his neck and held on tightly as you found yourself getting swept away in Mingi's barrage of kisses.

As his lips ravished yours, Mingi's hand moved from your breast down between your legs. His fingernails scratched along your folds before he teased your cunt by barely sinking a singular finger into your cunt. You rolled your hips upwards the second you felt his fingers prod into you, making him withdraw his fingers— he was teasing you again. You whined and rolled your waist towards him impatiently.

"You're so impatient, princess," Mingi couldn't help but note with a slight snicker.

"How can I not be when this is all I've wanted for so long?" you huffed out.

Mingi's ears turned a light shade of pink briefly when he heard your words. Before you could say or do anything to poke fun at his random shyness, he thrust two of his fingers into your cunt. You gasped and held onto him even tighter when he moved his fingers in and out of you quickly, without remorse. His fingers were quite literally ruining you with the way he was curling them and ramming them deep inside you.

"F-Fuck, Mingi," you cried as you dug your nails into his skin. "S-Slow down!"

As if he was going to listen to you. Mingi added a third finger and continued with his rapid pace. You felt tension build inside you the rougher he got, and right when you felt like the tension was going to snap, he withdrew his fingers. Without missing a beat, Mingi lowered himself so that his face was between your legs. He kissed and sucked on your clit intensely before shoving his three fingers inside you again, overstimulating you completely. You cried loudly as you came, your cunt fluttering as you squirted.

Despite you cumming, the man kept going. He flicked his tongue rapidly against your clit and continued to fuck you with his fingers. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you pushed your head back into your bed and let yourself go completely. You came again, the force making not only your legs but your entire body tremble.

You were only seeing stars in your vision when Mingi finally stopped. You did your best to blink them away as you felt him move away from you. You were barely able to see clearly when he knelt before you and started stripping himself down. He took off his shirt to reveal his defined chest and the abs that you saw the very first time you met him. The wound that was on his waist had actually healed quite nicely, barely leaving a scar on his body. You couldn't help but reach for his waist and trail your finger along the area that he injured.

"W-What is it?" he asked, his voice trembling a little.

"The wound..." you muttered.

Your eyes slowly moved from gazing at the faint injury to his face. His eyes were still intense, but there was a small smile on his face— a smile that quickly turned into a smirk. His hands reached for your waist, and before long, you were sitting up. He slid the open robe off your shoulders, leaving kisses along your newly exposed skin as he did so. He trailed the kisses from your shoulder down your arm until the robe was completely off you, and he took your fingers into his mouth as he threw the robe off the bed. Your limbs tingled when you felt him suck on your fingers, the pressure making you feel pleasure that you'd never felt before— which was crazy considering that all he was doing was merely sucking your fingers.

When Mingi took your fingers out of his mouth, he sat back on his heels and undid his pants. Your eyes widened when you saw him pull out the most massive cock you had ever seen. His cock was rock hard, throbbing and twitching with every breath he took. He quickly removed his pants entirely and tossed them aside before reaching for your hand and guiding it to his cock. His cock seemed even more massive in your hand, and you were so dumbstruck by it that the man had no choice but to guide your hand up and down his length.

"Don't be scared, princess," you heard him chuckle in a low tone. "I promise I won't hurt you."

As his hand continued to guide yours, his other hand reached for your neck and brought your face closer to his. He pressed his fingers into the sides of your neck gently and kissed you sloppily but passionately, his tongue infiltrating your mouth. You were on cloud nine with the way he was squeezing your neck just right and kissing you over and over again. Your brain was melting the longer he kissed you, and when he stopped, you nearly whimpered. You looked at him desperately, and when you saw the smirk reappear on his face, you knew that he was definitely not going to leave you disappointed.

Mingi laid down on the bed so that his back was pressed against the headboard. He moved you so that you were straddling him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. You felt him rubbing his cock along your ass, the sheer size of his cock making you more nervous with every passing second.

"Are, uh... Are you sure this is the best way to start?" you whispered, your nerves starting to make your body tense.

"Trust me, princess. I know what I'm doing," Mingi replied in a hushed tone, his lips near your ear as he leaned towards you.

The sound of his low voice in your ear made you shiver. Holding your waist, Mingi moved you up before taking his cock and lining it up with your entrance. As soon as you felt the tip of his cock press through your cunt, you exhaled through your teeth, only for that exhale to get cut off by a loud cry when Mingi pushed down on your waist.

"Mingi— Fuck! Y-You're too big!" you sobbed when you felt his cock fill you up to the point where you felt like he already hit your cervix.

"Just breathe, princess," he said calmly as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Relax for me, okay?"

You exhaled slowly, and your body relaxed slightly. You remained seated on Mingi's cock as your grip on his shoulders loosened, his cock throbbing inside you. Leaning towards you, Mingi peppered kisses along your neck and chest, his hands rubbing your waist, hips, and thighs.

"Good, princess... Now, start moving when you're ready, okay?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. Taking a slow breath, you slowly and barely started moving your waist up and down, the length and girth of his cock a little too much for you to handle on your own. You couldn't help but let out a little cry every time you moved, his cock somehow seeming to get bigger with every movement you made.

Mingi's hands moved to cup your ass, and he assisted you. He moved you on his cock, making you cry louder when you felt the impact of your ass on his thighs and his cock ramming deep inside you whenever he pushed you down with force. The more he had to move you, though, the more frustrated the man got. After making you ride his cock for another solid ten seconds or so, he suddenly flipped you so that your back was pressed against the mattress.

Without a moment to lose, Mingi lowered his body so that your breasts were barely grazing his chest as he rolled his waist into yours. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, your nails digging into the skin on his back as his thrusts got stronger. Your entire body lurched with every slam of his pelvis against yours, and you choked on sobs and whimpers whenever you felt his cock reach deep inside you.

As painful as it was, you didn't want him to stop for even a second because it also felt that fucking good. The way his cock would graze your cervix which each thrust made you more and more excited, and it made the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi hissed through grit teeth. "You're so fucking tight. You feel so— Fuck!— So fucking good... Your cunt was just made for me, wasn't it, princess?"

Tears blurred your eyes, and one slipped out when you shut your eyes tightly and cried loudly in agreement. You couldn't even bother trying to come up with coherent words as Mingi literally fucked all of the thoughts out of your brain with his intense thrusts. You didn't think they would remain as intense when he started moving faster, but you were sorely mistaken— Mingi was strong and powerful no matter what his pace was.

Mingi bit his lower lip as he moved up. He grasped and pulled on your breasts as his waist moved rapidly, the sounds of your skin making contact over and over again filling up the room along with the squeaks of your worn bedsprings and the two of you moaning and groaning. The room got hotter, and you felt Mingi's sweat start to dot your skin when he dropped his head to watch the way your cunt swallowed his fat dick.

Honestly, just the sight of your sore red pussy was enough to make the man cum, but he held back as long as he possibly could. It was when he suddenly rammed his cock as far deep inside you as he could did he hit your cervix and make you cream around his cock, subsequently making him cum because your cunt got so tight that he thought you were going to snap it off. He grabbed your waist and rammed his cock deep inside you one final time before groaning loudly and filling you up with his cum.

The two of you were panting heavily by the time your highs wore off. Mingi's cock was still throbbing inside you by the time you caught your breath and blinked the blurriness out of your eyes, only for that blurriness to return when you felt him start to pull out, the friction of his cock inside your cunt making you feel good all over again.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi winced then chuckled when he felt your cunt tighten up. "Do that again, and I'll be forced to fuck you all night."

You locked eyes with him when he said that, and you pulled him closer to you before he could pull out completely. You kissed him sensually and left a tiny bite on his lower lip, slightly startling the man before you whispered, "Fuck me all night, then. I want you to ruin me, Mingi."

Mingi kissed you again as he pushed his cock all the way inside you once more. He smirked against your lips in between kisses.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

The next day was extremely weird. When you woke up, Mingi wasn't in bed with you— sure, he didn't have to sleep in the same bed as you after the two of you slept together for the first time, but considering that the two of you stayed in your tiny apartment together, it was weird that he wasn't there next to you. That, however, was not the weirdest part of that morning.

You barely made it out of bed and stumbled into the living room to see that Mingi wasn't on the couch either. Actually, there was no trace of him living in your living room at all or in your entire apartment for that matter. Your jaw dropped as you realized that Mingi was not only not in the apartment, but he and the very little belongings he had completely vanished.

You searched your entire freaking apartment for any sign of him or at least a clue as to where he had gone, but there was nothing in sight. Mingi had disappeared as if he was never there in the first place, leaving you confused, angry, and sad.

Sure, he was a mafia boss, and he owed you no explanation, but how could he just leave you like that? Especially after the way the two of you spent the night prior, why did he just leave you like that?

In the days following, you tried to see if you could figure out where he had disappeared to, but you couldn't. There was no way you were going to be able to track down that man. Just as randomly as he entered your life, he left it as well, and you had to somehow make your peace with that.

Yet, you couldn't help but miss him. You couldn't help but miss the man that held the gun to your head and threatened to kill you, the man that spent so much fucking time with you over the past several weeks, the man you accidentally fell in love with. Fuck. How the hell were you going to make peace with that?

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[lottiies]

TIARAS AND TEACUPS

→ just some fluffy drabbles and headcanons on leon being a girl dad

NOTE: listen i don’t even want kids in the future but for this man?? if he was real and mine then trust i would change my mind real quick ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

this is pretty short, less than 1k words hehe

i.

Leon would never hear the end of it from his coworkers if they saw him like this. There was a plastic tiara with fake pink jewels resting atop his hair. He was sitting criss cross applesauce, for he was a little too big to sit on the tiny chairs his daughter had placed her plushies on.

“Daddy, here’s your cup!” She chimed happily, placing a small toy teacup right in front of him.

“Thank you princess, it’s a pretty set.” His hand could easily cover the entire cup, but to be graceful, he held the handle with his thumb and forefinger. “What’s on the menu?”

“Brownies and…and cookies.” She had a small container of them, having gotten some from the batch you baked the other night. “I’m gonna go get mommy, make sure Mrs. Teddy doesn’t drop her tea!”

Leon looked so out of place, but he was happy, watching with a smile as his daughter ran out of the room to go get you. And surely enough, you joined the tea party a couple minutes later, a matching headpiece on your head and your daughter giggling as she tugged you by the hand and took you to where she wanted you to sit.

You couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh when you saw Leon, and he seemed to catch on, grinning at you. “Look who’s late.”

“Fashionably late.” You corrected him as you pointed at your crown, taking a seat on the floor.

“Yay all my guests are here! I’ll hand out the food but don’t eat without me, okay?”

Leon was always emotional when he was in the same room as the two people he treasured the most.

He could still remember when his daughter was just a newborn baby. He almost broke down that day as soon as he heard her first cries, he never thought he’d get the blessing of parenthood.

ii.

If there’s one thing about Leon as a dad, it’s that he really has no backbone when it comes to his adorable daughter. Lecturing wasn’t his strong suit, he just wanted to spoil her. Thankfully, she didn’t have a knack for finding trouble so he didn’t have to worry all that much.

Here Leon was opening the letter he had gotten from his daughter’s elementary school, skimming through it only to see all the positive commentary the homeroom teacher had left. He was a proud father, and he took her on a trip to the store so she could pick out something nice.

“Don’t worry your little head about the price, okay? You deserve something special, you’re doing so well at school.” He gave her head a gentle pat, staying close behind her energetic form as she scanned the aisle for toys.

Toys. Great. Leon was sure he would sob when his little girl started asking for electronics and cosmetics. God, how he wished these years didn’t fly by so quickly. He had to make the most of them.

“Anything? Even a scooter?”

“Uh huh, even a scooter. Want one?”

“Yeah they’re awesome! Can we go look at them? I wanted to ask for one last Christmas but it was really cold so I wouldn’t have even been able to play outside much to use it. But it’s almost summer now so it would be nice and…”

She continued rambling on and on while Leon smiled happily. He held her hand and walked her over to where the scooters and bikes were.

Though he was a little concerned. What if she fell one day and scraped her knee? Or what if she hit her ankle with the scooter? Worst pain ever. Either way, he’d have to buy her a helmet and some knee pads.

Being a dad was kinda stressful.

iii.

Leon would try to be there for major milestones as much as possible. Yeah, sometimes he couldn’t be there because of the spontaneity of his demanding job, but he made sure to make everything worthwhile when he was present.

Whenever her birthday came up, he’d let Sherry babysit her for a few hours so she wouldn’t be at the house while you and him were decorating the place.

“Our little girl is growing up so fast. She’s already wanting to sit in the passenger seat, can you believe that?”

“You big ol’ softie.” You laughed a bit at his sulking, but you felt the same way, going over to hug him and comfort him. He held your hips, nuzzling against the crook of you neck. He loved you so much, he’d know nothing about happiness without you.

“I think I finally understand what the adults in my life would say when I was younger.”

“And what’s that?”

“That when you’re a parent, your children don’t really get older in your eyes. Yeah she’s about to turn ten but…she’s still our baby girl. I feel like she’s still three.”

HEADCANONS

𐙚 Leon would definitely be the type to look up some tutorials on YouTube so he could learn how to do his daughter’s hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, wavy, or really curly. He’ll get all the products and get as much practice as possible

𐙚 For bedtime stories he’d just make up child friendly versions of his missions. B.O.W’s would become dragons, he’d be some sort of knight, and the setting would be a magical forest instead of some isolated and creepy location. And of course there’d be a happily ever after. In a way, this also helps him cope with his experiences

𐙚 Even in a modern world where cards are used more than cash (much to his dismay), he carries around lots of quarters just in case his daughter wants to get something out of a sticker or candy vending machine

[luveline]

omg i loved the loopy wisdom teeth one w peter 😭😭 can i get that with hotch, and reader, who's usually more reserved starts flirting with him and stuff while she's loopy

ty!! and ty for ur request ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Most people have their wisdom teeth out in their teens," Aaron had said before you went in, a Spencer Reid tidbit if there ever were one. 

"I'm a special case," you'd said, accepting his kiss on the cheek but denying his half hug. "See you in a bit." 

People often lament that Aaron's ended up with a  woman so much like himself. You must make each other miserable, one ill-advised chancellor had said, to your amusement. 

We're desperately unhappy, you'd said back. 

The opposite is true. You and Aaron, or Aaron alone, at the very least, is as happy as he's ever been. Work is hard but manageable, Jack is well-tempered, growing smarter and kinder each day, and you're his sweetheart. You're reserved, a little solemn, but you understand him better than anyone ever has. It's a relief like no other to be known so well. 

And so he has zero qualms looking after you for the rest of your lives. He waits patiently for you to come out of surgery, arms behind his head in the empty waiting room. He's worried about you. This isn't a painless procedure. 

Footsteps echo down the hallway, but you announce yourself anyways in the doorway. "Handsome!" you say, a lisp to your happy sing-song, "I'm back." 

Aaron doesn't know what to say. He giggles like a kid at your sudden demeanour and sits up properly. "Honey." 

You wobble with the nurse at your back, prompting him onto his feet to take over. "You should remove the gauze in about half an hour when the bleeding has completely stopped. Clean daily with saline, there are instructions in the bag," the nurse says, offering Aaron a white prescription bag. "Okay?" 

"That's perfect. Thank you so much," he says, taking your hand. 

"You're perfect," you say, looking up at Aaron with stars in your eyes. 

The nurse laughs softly as she leaves. Aaron doesn't bother hiding his amusement, grinning at you as he puts his hand between your shoulders to guide you to the front of the building. 

It's busier here. Reception is hectic. Aaron puts his arm more firmly around you to stop people from bumping into you and you again look at him with your starry eyed gaze. "You're very tall," you say. 

"I am," he says. "Though you joke occasionally that I'm shrinking." 

"The only thing getting smaller is your waist," you say, poking at his abdomen, "my champion." 

You're referring to his recent third triathlon success. He's no record setter, but it keeps him active and happy in the summer months, and he can't pretend you don't appreciate the additional definition of his muscle during this time. You like him every month of the year, of course, but with his trim waist comes a certain amount of energy you also appreciate. 

"Completely inappropriate behaviour," he says lightly, waving a short goodbye to the receptionists as he holds open the door for you to pass by. "Next you'll be enacting PDA." 

"You'd like that, huh?" 

Hard to take any notice of you with gauze fluffing your words, and again, he laughs at you. "I'd love that." 

"Well, wait, I'll do it right here–" 

Aaron catches your hands mildly. "In the car first. Kiss after." Your downtrodden expression requires urgent care. "What, that's not okay? You're upset?" 

"No," you lie obviously, glaring down at your feet as you wobble forward. 

"Maybe we can wait until later, then." 

"What?" You gawp. "You just said in the car." 

"I'm teasing you," he says, taking your elbow. "We've been known to do that with one another on occasion. You know I'd happily kiss you anywhere you wanted to be kissed, honey, now watch your step on this curb. Watch your step. Good job." 

You're extremely pleased by his praise, leaning into his arm with your head tipped back. "You're so handsome. Can you kiss me now?" You soften your eyes. 

Alright, you have a little bit of bloody dribble on your bottom lip, and yes, there's this dazed look about you like you've had a mean shock, but you never look at him like this day to day. Perhaps in your more intimate moments, your arms around him when the lights are low, or early, early in the morning when you haven't yet remembered your more timid temperament. But it's so rare. It catches him off guard, how pretty and wanting you look. 

Aaron leans down for a careful kiss, the barest of pressure. 

"And a good kisser," you murmur, turning into his chest for a hug. "I love you, I want you to carry me to the car." 

"Sweetheart, I don't think I can," he says. He's mostly kidding in the depth of his apology, but there are real threads of remorse in his voice, hot as a flame. "Come on. We'll go home, okay?" 

"But you always do everything for me. Everything I ask for." You talk into his chest, likely leaving pink spit on the grey of his quarter zip. He couldn't care less, his arm around you, looking down with equal measures of fondness and surprise. "I had to stop saying I liked things because you kept buying me stuff. I love stuff." 

"Then why did you stop?" he asks quietly. 

"'Cos I know I don't deserve it. Don't deserve you, Aaron, you're the best man I've ever met. Can't believe it."

He savours your mumbling, and begins to walk forward slowly, encouraging you out of his chest as he formulates an answer for your confession with the same gravity. "You can't believe it?" 

"You're a tall glass of water." 

He actually sighs aloud. My girl, he thinks, rubbing your lax shoulder. "Alright. What if I thought the same of you? What then?" 

You giggle infectiously, a stickying sound like you know he's trying to trip you up. "Nice," you say. "We should always be like this." 

When he brings it up later, the extreme effects of your anaesthesia dissipated and your pain revamped, you can't think of anything worse. "I'm mortified," you whisper, your ice pack chilling the top of his arm where you've wedged it, your hand tucked between his thighs in an attempt to stay warm. 

"I quite liked it." 

"You would. You used to flirt with me so aggressively–" 

"Aggressively," he repeats, grinning. 

"–you're lucky I survived it." You sniffle, rubbing your nose into his sleeve. "Was I as intimidating as you are?" 

He presses his lips to the top of your head, not kissing, just there. "No," he says into your skin, "you weren't intimidating at all. Just lovely. It made my day." 

"I'll have to have my teeth taken out more often." 

He snorts. "If you'd rather have more teeth pulled than flirt with me unaided, things are worse than I thought." 

"Don't be like that..." Much quieter, "Will you rub my back again, please?"

Just like that, he's reminded of how much he likes your regular reserved attitude. "Sure, honey. Lean forward."

[ofstarsandvibranium]

He's A Pretty One

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You're visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

You're mindlessly perusing through the aisles of Family Video. Your younger cousin, Gareth dragged you along so you could help him decide on what movie to pick.

He approaches you with two in hand, "Halloween or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"

You grimace and look at him with a confused look, "Gare, it's the summer time. Why the hell do you want to watch horror movies?" It was summer time. You were one hundred percent sure there were better movies to pick than either of those two.

Your cousin rolls his eyes at you, "You can watch scary movies any time of the year, Y/N." His statement makes it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It feels wrong watching it during the summer," you try to reason with Gareth.

He smirks, "Do you not want to watch it because it 'feels wrong'," he says using air quotations, "or is it cause you're a scaredy cat?" He's looking at you with the most annoying look on his face that you kind of want to punch him.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Shut the fuck up, Gareth. I'm not the one who refused to swim in the pool three summers ago after watching Poltergeist."

You hear a snort around the corner, causing you and Gareth to turn. A guy who looks around to be your age comes into view. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's smirking at Gareth, "You refused to go swimming after Poltergeist?"

Gareth rolls his eyes, "You never know if the pool you're swimming in was built over dead bodies that hadn't been relocated!"

The guy snorts and looks at you, sticking his hand out, "I'm Eddie-"

"Munson. Yeah, Gare's mentioned you before. I'm Y/N," you grasp his hand and give it a quick shake.

"Huh. Funny. Gareth never mentioned he had a girlfriend," he looks you up and down with no shame.

Both you and Gareth gag.

"We're cousins!"

"That's so fucking gross."

Eddie chuckles and holds his hands up, "Sorry. Didn't mean to assume," he then grabs the two movies from Gareth's hands. He looks at both and then shoves Texas Chainsaw Massacre to his chest, "Chainsaw Massacre is better."

He smirks and looks you up and down one last time, "Hope to see ya around Y/N," he gives you a wink and heads to the counter to pay.

Gareth looks at you and then Eddie and then back at you, "Please, don't," he says with a pleading face of desperation.

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"Please don't tell me you like Eddie."

"I don't....I just think he's...pretty."

Gareth gags again and you smack him on the head, "Oh quit it! Besides, I can have a summer fling if I want! You said there's nothing fun to do in this town, so why can't I create some fun for myself?"

"That's gross," your cousin shudders and goes to the counter to pay.

___________________________

The next time you see Eddie is at band practice. Eddie as well as the rest of Corroded Coffin arrive at Gareth's ready to practice their new set.

Eddie gives you a nod while the rest of the guys are fairly awkward around you. While they're warming up and tuning their instruments, you go up to Eddie, putting an extra sway to your hips.

"Is it okay if I'm here?"

He nonchalantly shrugs with a grin on his face, "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

You nod towards Jeff and Doug behind him, "I think I make them uncomfortable."

Eddie looks over his shoulder and snorts, "It's just 'cause they've never been in the presence of a hot girl before."

You smirk at him, "You think I'm hot?"

He looks you up and down like he did at the video store, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart."

"CAN WE PLEASE START PRACTICE NOW?!" Gareth yells, breaking the tension that started to build between you and Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes and slips his guitar strap over his shoulder, "Yeah, alright." He slowly backs away but shoots you a wink as he gets into position.

You plop yourself onto the couch ready to watch what your cousin and his friends got.

__________________

You thought Eddie was hot before but holy fuck was he sexy as hell now after you've watched him perform. The way he plays and sings his heart out is just...it leaves you speechless...and a little hot.

After practice was over, Gareth goes up to you, sweaty but with a proud look on his face, "So? Whaddaya think?"

"You guys sound pretty good, Gare. And you guys are performing this weekend right?"

"Yup! You're coming right?"

You snort, "I have nothing else better to do, plus, I gotta support your annoying ass," you shove his shoulder and your cousin rolls his eyes.

You try to shove him again but Gareth dodges you and steps away. You chuckle and then glance at Eddie, who's had his eyes on you the entire time.

You walk up to him with a smirk, "Not bad, Van Halen."

"Thanks," Eddie puffs up his chest in pride, "Gonna be our first groupie, hm?"

You scoff and wave off his comment, "Oh please, I'm just supporting my cousin."

Eddie licks his lips and leans closer to you, "Come on. Once we get big, you can have bragging rights that you were our first fan and that you knew us before we blew up."

You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side, "That all I get for seeing you guys perform? Bragging rights?"

He looks at you with a smirk, "Why? You want something more?"

You snort and take a step closer to Eddie, your face very close to his, "Think you have something I'd want, Pretty Boy?"

He's smiling wide at you now, "You think I'm pretty?"

You look him up and down just like how he did earlier. To repeat his words back to him, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart." You then turn on your heel and head back inside Gareth's house leaving him feeling equally as hot as he made you feel.

Part 2

[dunnerlars]

always attract - matthew tkachuk

pairing: matthew tkachuk x fem!reader summary: matthew mistakenly tells your brother that you're his date to his wedding. word count: 5.7k warnings: none? i don't think a/n: this is my fic for @sc0tters for the #the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the wonderful @wyattjohnston! i haven't written in forever so this was fun to dive into- and it's not beta'd because i'm terrified to ask someone to look it over so all mistakes are my own 😅

—

Matthew 🐀: I know its 5am for you but i think fucked up

Matthew 🐀: Will you be my date to your brothers wedding

The text has you blinking rapidly as you check the time, your phone bright in the dark of the room. Why the fuck is he up right now? Squinting, you see it’s just past 5am and groan, falling back into bed and wondering what the fuck Matthew’s even talking about. It takes a second for you to put everything together, mind failing to keep up with the words date, wedding, and brother.

Me: Sorry what??? What are you talking about

Matthew 🐀: we’re at connor’s bach party and leon asked if i had a date yet and i might’ve told connor you were going to be my date

Me: It’s 5AM 

Matthew 🐀: i know we’re heading back to the hotel now but Please b my date

Me: What did connor say?

You huff and roll over, sitting up to turn the light on your nightstand on. Matthew hadn’t responded back yet and you quick to type:

Me: Is he pissed??

Matthew 🐀: its hard to tell w him you know? So what do you say? Date? To the wedding? pleaseeeeeeee

Suddenly a knot forms in your stomach at the thought and despite it not being your fault you feel guilty for Connor thinking you were hiding something from him. Matthew is your friend….He wouldn’t be the worst date. Might as well get something out of it.

Me: What’s in it for me?

Matthew 🐀: literally whatever

Having a favor from Matthew could come in handy at some point, you think. And it could be worth all of this fucking nonsense he’s putting you through at now 5:22am. 

Me: Fine, but you owe me a no-barred favor. I can ask for whatever, whenever I want no matter what.

You pause-

Me: How did this even happen?

Matthew 🐀: i’ll explain tomorrow and we can figure out details!!! Thnks babe 😘

Rolling your eyes, you set your phone back down on the nightstand and sigh. It’s almost too much to think about how quickly Connor and Matthew had become close over the last couple of weeks. You’d thought for sure there would be some residual hate from the Panthers Cup win but then Matthew had invited Connor out to his day with the Cup and it was love at first bro hug or whatever excuse they used. And despite the invites going out months ago, Connor had finagled an invite for Matthew and now here you were.

Ever since your move to southern Florida last year, your growing friendship with Matthew had always bugged Connor so it was funny to you now, seeing the tables turned. 

The vibration of your phone breaks you from your thoughts and you prepare yourself for another text from Matthew only to be surprised to see it’s a text from your brother.

Connor 👼🏻: So Tkachuk huh?

Deciding it was far too early to deal with this anymore, you turn the phone over and will yourself back to sleep.

—

It’s the next day when Matthew requests to FaceTime you, your phone ringing with a video call as you step outside to your backyard and get settled on a patio chair.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Matthew greets, his grin the most endearingly annoying thing about him.

“You don’t have to use lines on me, Matthew. I’ve already said yes,” you remind him, eyebrows raised as you try your best to glare at him. You take stock of his surroundings and frown. “Are you back in St. Louis already?”

“Yeah, I had a charity thing scheduled with my dad for tonight so I flew back late yesterday.”

“Oh.. Hope you’re not too hungover.” 

He shrugs and regroups, sliding his sunglasses up into his curls. “I’m alright. So-,” he starts but you cut him off.

“I need you to explain to me what happened last night before we figure out everything else.” It’s something you’ve tried to piece together and you still haven’t texted Connor back, afraid you might break Matthew’s cover.

“Alright, that’s fair,” he nods, “We were walking back from a bar and Leon asked if I had a date to the wedding, since it was short notice that I was going. And the way he asked- it just really bugged me. Like his tone? I dunno. It just rubbed me wrong. And the guys were making shitty comments. Whatever.”

You know the tone Matthew’s referring to, grateful you’ve never been on the receiving end. Leon was a hard one to crack and it’d taken you at least a year to wear him down. Nodding at him to continue, he shifts his eyes and you can tell he’s embarrassed. 

“So obviously I told them I had a date and they stopped and it was fine- until your brother pulled me back from the group and asked who I was bringing, so he could tell Lauren, and I panicked and said you,” he mumbles the next part, your ears straining to pick up the words, “And I might've mentioned we’ve been dating.”

You pause, wondering if Matthew just said what you think he did and yeah- he did. He at least has the nerve to look sheepish, apologetic. “Dating? Are you… What? Matthew!”

“Look, I was on the spot okay! And drunk! And it’s not like it’s out of the question. You’re one of my best friends. My mom loves you, I swear you talk to my sister more than I do. I can go on,” he shoots you a pleading look.

“Well when you put it that way, sure. I guess.”

“You guess? You know I’m right.”

Sighing, you nod. “Fine. Whatever. Did you give him any details? I can’t imagine Connor didn’t have a million questions, I tell him everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Matthew, that’s not the point. Did he question you at all?” 

“No. Just patted me on the shoulder and we caught up with everyone else.”

“Huh.”

That’s…. Weird. And out of character for your brother, who’s nosy as fuck when it comes to your personal life. Maybe he already thinks it’s all a lie. Or is just actually super pissed, which isn’t any better. Would this even be worth it? How often would a favor from Mattew come in handy? Okay, actually pretty handy. He’s got money, connections. Could be good to have for things you don’t wanna ask Connor for… Ugh.

Glancing up, you catch Matthew waiting for you to say something and his curls catch the back light of the St. Louis sun from behind him, casting an almost halo glow around his head. His eyes are bright, sunglasses still tucked up on the top of his head. Two front teeth catching his bottom lip and biting and God, he’s pretty. 

Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea. What could go wrong? 

“Alright, let’s figure this out…”

—

It’s hours later when you finally work up the nerve to call Connor, lying in bed after a long day. Since he hadn’t questioned Matthew for details, it was easy enough to make up a backstory for you and Matthew: it’s only been a couple of months, things aren’t serious but they’re fun and easy and you both like each other enough that it’s exclusive. Which was all real except that when you hung out, it just wasn’t a date. Because you weren’t dating. Nope.

The call finally connects, sure you were almost going to get his voicemail, and Connor greets you with, “Thanks for letting me know you’re alive.”

It’s easy to tell by the tone of his voice, short, quick and void of any emotion, that he’s disappointed because it’s the voice you know he uses when he loses a game he felt they should’ve won.

“You’re mad.”

“And why am I mad?”

“Because-”

“Because I found out you’ve been secretly dating Tkachuk behind my back, from him? Why did I have to find out from him and not you, my own sister? Was this going on throughout our entire Cup series? Or has it been longer?”

Fuck.

“Matthew lying to me is- It’s whatever. You’re my sister. Why didn’t you tell me? What about telling me made you straight up lie when I’ve asked you about your trips up to wherever the fuck the Panthers play? Or when he’s down there with you?”

Fort Lauderdale your mind supplies but you know it won’t do any good to say so.

“You always made it seem like it was just buddies when you told me you were meeting with him for lunch or whatever, someone that reminded you of home, but I guess that’s what made it so easy, huh?” The heat in Connor’s voice has petered out, like he’s figuring it all out and he sighs. “Fuck. I’m sorry. This is probably why you didn’t want to say anything to me.”

“It really was just friends, Con. I promise,” you tell him. “Then… I dunno. Things just got more real. I didn’t want to see anyone else and he didn’t either. It’s only been a couple of months, I swear.”

“So, through the series, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Connor lets out a long breath, like he’s deciding his next words carefully. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me. I get it. It wasn’t the best reaction.”

“No shit,” you laugh.

“But you’re coming to the wedding together?” You hear someone shout in the background and grin when you recognize Lauren’s voice. “Lauren wants to know if she should switch your escort down the aisle to Chucky.”

“I mean,” you pause, thinking. It would be nice to know who was walking down with you, one of Lauren’s second cousins or something was supposed to be your escort but having Matthew on your arm would be nice. “Yeah, sure. As long as it doesn’t fuck anything up on her end.”

Connor grunts, “As if Lauren would let anything fuck that day up. It’s fine. Let Chucky know for us, yeah? She’s making the calls already.”

“Alright. Thanks, Con. And tell Lauren thank you too.”

“Will do. Love ya, kiddo. Sorry I freaked out.”

You roll your eyes. Brothers. 

“Love you too. I’ll text you once I talk to him.”

Lauren and Connor both shouted their goodbyes as you hung up.

Me: So you’re gonna be my escort down the aisle next week in the wedding 🙂

Matthew 🐀: Fuck you

Me: You wish

Matthew 🐀: well yeah

Of course he didn’t mean it like that- Matthew always down for a joke, and you calm your racing heart, gulping down some water.

So now you not only have a fake boyfriend but also said (fake) boyfriend was going to walk you down the aisle at your brother’s wedding. In a week. Great.

—

You fly into St. Louis. The plan was to meet up with Matthew on the Saturday before the wedding and then you’d fly up to Toronto and drive up to Muskoka together on Wednesday. Trying to keep up appearances, Matthew had said. Thankfully the flight from Miami to Missouri wasn’t too terrible, even if the lady that was sat next to you had a perfume on that made you nauseous. 

Matthew had texted you that he was idling on the curb, waiting, and once you had your bags, you headed outside into the muggy heat. The loud honk of a horn coming from a giant black SUV startles you and Matthew rolls down the window with a laugh, “Come on, they’re gonna make me move again.”

It was tempting to make him squirm but you caught the eye of one of the traffic guards and scurry forward, dumping your bags into the backseat before jumping into the passenger’s side. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” he grins, turning on his blinker before merging onto the road. “Seatbelt please.”

The quietness of the truck surprises you as you buckle your seatbelt, having expected some kind of rap music or sports podcast to be playing through the speakers. Or at least that’s what he normally was listening to when you’d meet up in Miami, and he’d pick you up at your apartment. The silence was comfortable though, the quiet hum of the AC and the tapping of Matthew’s fingers against the steering wheel filling the cab. His posture was relaxed, slouched in the driver’s seat.

Matthew swats lightly at your thigh, pulling your attention away from the window, “You should let Connor know you’re here.”

Digging through your bag, you search for your phone and fire off a quick text to the group chat with your brother and parents that you’d made it safely to St. Louis and were with Matthew, heading back to his house.

“So, how was the flight?”

Well it was fine in the sense that nothing went wrong and there weren’t any screaming babies and you managed to fall asleep since you’d been up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure you got to the airport in time but- Well. Your dreams had been filled with flashes of Matthew’s smile and his laugh and how he always managed to make you feel better after a bad day at work and he’d called just to say he was bored and was wondering what you were doing and, and and-. 

Where was this even coming from?

You obviously couldn’t say all of that so you shrug, “It was okay. The lady next to me must’ve bathed in perfume because I almost gagged but I pulled a mask on and managed to fall asleep against the window.”

Matthew whistles in sympathy, “God that’s always the worst.”

Nodding, you chew on your bottom lip and turn to face him in your seat and get a good look at him. “You look nice.”

And he did. There was something different about him and you weren’t sure if it was the glowing tan that covered his neck and arms, the blonde that was starting to weave its way into the curls that sat neatly on his head, or just the ease at which he was holding himself but he looked different. Maybe part of it was the fact that the last time you’d seen Matthew in person was right after the Panthers victory and he’d been dog tired and worn out, bushy beard and clothes hanging off his frame. This Matthew was refreshed and had a Stanley Cup under his belt, carefree and like nothing could bring him down. 

Matthew glances at you quickly, a sly smile overtaking his face. “Yeah? Well, gotta look good for my girlfriend ya know? Figured I’d shower, at the very least.”

Wait.

“Your parents don’t think we’re dating, right?”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head with a honking laugh, “Nah, I explained to them what happened. My mom’s excited to see you again though. And Taryn.”

“Not your dad?”

Pulling off the highway, he chuckles and shrugs. “Big Walt’s not home. He’s on some golf trip for the week.”

It’s hard not to let your relief show. Keith wasn’t your favorite person and taking him out of the equation of this short trip was a small victory you were willing to celebrate. To yourself.

“Cool cool cool.”

“It’s okay that you don’t like him,” Matthew assures you as he pulls up to what you can only assume is his parents home. It wasn’t familiar to you in the way Matthew’s St. Louis home was becoming from all of the play-by-play videos he’s sent during his off time, describing the day he’s had while grabbing his mail, or going for a walk around the neighborhood while telling you about the latest update on Brady’s incoming baby or what he was going to have for dinner.

“I don’t like how he treats you,” you remind him, voice quiet.

It was no secret to Matthew how you felt about his father. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you’d heard Keith put him down through solo interviews or in passing comments from Matthew or even Tayrn, when she’d call to tell you about another argument the two of them had that she’d overheard.

Matthew nods, grimacing. “Well, we don’t have to deal with him while we’re here. Come on, let’s head in before my mom wonders why we’re sitting out here instead.”

The rest of the day was uneventful. You and Taryn hang out in the backyard with White Claws while she tells you horror stories from her last semester at college and Matthew flits in and out, helping his mom with dinner while also trying to get the juicy gossip. It was comfortable, even if the St. Louis air was sticky with humidity and dinner went by quickly and soon enough, you were back in Matthew’s car heading to his place.

“Well this is nice. Not as nice as the one in Florida but- nice,” you whistle, taking in the coziness of Matthew’s home. There was an overstuffed couch in the center of the living room, a coffee table littered with sports magazines, and further back you could see the kitchen with deep brown cabinets and hardwood floors to match. “Very cozy.”

“Yeah, my mom took care of most of it during the season. I just sent a bunch of pictures of things for her to copy,” Matthew shrugs, nodding up the stairs. “Uh, guest rooms are up there. You tired?”

“Really fucking tired.”

“Come on then, up we go.”

Matthew led the way up the stairs, carrying your suitcase. The temptation to smack his ass was a hard one to quell but you just barely managed when you hit the landing. 

“So,” he points to the left. “That room I use as an office but it’s got an en suite. Bed’s kinda small though.” Pointing to the right, he glances at you before speaking. “That one’s closest to my room. Bigger bed. No bathroom though.”

“Well obviously I’m taking the bigger bed.” You nudge his arm with yours, taking the suitcase and heading towards the room. “So, plans for tomorrow: Taryn said something about getting lunch? I don’t know if you’re invited. Also you’ve gotta take me to that bakery here you’ve been talking about for months so I can judge the almond croissant you’ve deemed better than the ones from True Loaf. Which are the best. Obviously.”

As you dig through your suitcase in search of pajamas, you glance up to see Matthew leaning against the doorway with a weird smile on his face as he looks at you. “You good?”

“Yeah, just-,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “Glad to have you here. It’s been a while.”

“Happy to be here. Boyfriend.” You shoot him a wide grin, hoping it covers up the clear nervousness you’re feeling now that you’re settling in. Sleeping in his house.

Matthew snorts, shaking his head. “See you in the morning.”

—

The rest of your time in St. Louis was kind of great, all things considered. Matthew was an attentive host and Taryn and Chantal were eager to fill your time- from gossiping about the league, to things you needed to check out the next time you were in town. And Chantal had made you promise that you would- come back, that is, on your last night in St. Louis with the four of you crowded around the table in the backyard of Matthew’s house, sharing a bottle of wine and embarrassing stories.

You’d had to double, and triple check, with Matthew to make sure his mom or sister didn’t think the two of you were actually dating, especially when promises were being made to come back.

He’d just shrugged and said, “They just like you. I like you. Jeez, do people not tell you they like you?”

You were kind of bummed to be leaving as you packed your bag the morning of the flight up to Toronto, Matthew’s obnoxious singing ringing loudly throughout the house. After combing through the room a third time, you deemed it free and clear of your belongings and headed down the stairs, rolling your suitcase next to Matthew’s and chuckled at the sight before you as you turned towards the kitchen.

Singing horribly out of tune with Dancing Queen blasting on his phone’s speaker, was Matthew dancing like an idiot around the island in the center of his kitchen, eyes closed and belting the lyrics.

“Matthew.”

The live concert comes to an end, Matthew scrambling to pause the music. “Sorry,” he replies, ears tinged red in embarrassment. 

“Hey no complaints from me, but Taryn’s gonna be here in a minute,” you remind him, the fond smile on your face giving away far too much.

Matthew pockets his phone, nodding. He holds your gaze for a second before asking, “Come here?”

As soon as you’re a couple of steps away, Matthew pulls you into his chest and you go with a surprised oof.

“Thank you. For doing this.”

You turn your head into his chest, ear pressed against where his heart was and find comfort in the timed beating while you nod. “You’re welcome,” you mumble, turning your chin up and glancing at him.

Your gazes lock, his blue eyes searching yours. For what, you’re unsure but he seems to find the answers he’s looking for a short minute later, because he gives you another squeeze and steps back, letting out a breath. 

“I’ll grab the bags if you can shut the lights off?”

You’re already on it as Matthew walks away, flipping the switch in the kitchen and checking the backdoor to make sure it’s locked. The living room lights are next, and you meet him at the front door, catching Taryn’s car parked on the curb waiting. 

The drive to the airport is short, the early morning hours more forgiving with traffic and after giving Taryn a quick hug and a promise to text her when you both landed, you stepped away to give her and Matthew some privacy while dropping your bags at the kiosk outside. 

“Ready?” He asks, as you both wave goodbye to Taryn as she pulls away from the curb. 

“Let’s do this.”

The flight is smooth for how short it is, 2 hours passing by quickly. Arriving in Toronto is a nightmare, as usual, and Matthew spends over 30 minutes at the rental car desk trying to figure out where your reservation went. Eventually it gets sorted out and you’re on the road, tucked into the passenger seat of a sports car that you didn’t ask for. 

“If I fall asleep, don’t get mad at me please,” you yawn, pulling your feet up under you to get comfortable and leaning on the center console.

“Want me to turn the radio down?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your answer, his hand going for the volume knob but you stop him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“No, it’s good. I know it helps keep you awake.” Pulling your hand away from his slowly you tuck it underneath your head and nudge your forehead against his arm. “Thank you for driving, by the way.”

“Happy to, honestly. Driving helps me clear my head,” he tells you, glancing down and shooting you a grin.

You’re tempted to ask what’s going on with him- he’s been acting a little out of character since this morning but sense that he’s not ready to talk about it, so you just hum in acknowledgement and turn into your arms, willing for sleep to find you.

Thankfully you manage to fall asleep on the ride up, a small 2 hour nap doing the trick because you wake up feeling rested.

The cottages were set on the lake in Muskoka where everyone would be staying for the wedding and you and Matthew were set to share one with your parents with Connor and Lauren next door in the one they own and spend his off season in. 

Your mom and dad are sat on the front porch in a set of rocking chairs as Matthew pulls up and  you’re quick to jump out of the car once it stops, calling out to them as they wave to you in greeting while he grabs the bags out of the trunk, “Long time, no see!”

Once hellos and introductions are done, with your dad and Matthew bonding what feels like instantly and your mom hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, the four of you make the small trek over to Connor and Lauren’s for dinner after dropping your bags off.

Dinner is comfortable, Matthew sat on your right with his arm draped across the back of your chair the whole time. Connor doesn’t give you two any weird looks and you count it as a win as you settle down for the night, avoiding talking about the fact that there’s only one bed in the room while you both brush your teeth. 

“I forget how involved these things are,” Matthew says, leaning against the counter watching while you finish washing your face.

“Weddings? Yeah, I mean. I think this is a little different, though,” you laugh, pat drying your face. “Lauren’s dialed everything up to a thousand for it.”

Matthew nods, thinking about it. “I’ve noticed,” he finally answers with, nudging you out of the bathroom. 

“And there was one bed,” you dramatically announce, sweeping your arms around the room and Matthew honest to god giggles which causes you to start giggling, both of you falling into a heap on the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Clearing his throat, Matthew grunts, “We’re adults, we can share a bed. Right?” His head turns towards yours and you swallow, realizing how close the two of you are. 

If you scooted an inch closer, you’d be able to tilt your head up and press your lips to his and- No.

“Right,” you finally manage to mumble out.

The air is stilted while you both turn down the bed, shuffling under the covers once the light is out and you make sure to stay tucked to your side of the bed, legs curled under you and knees almost hanging off the bed.

This was going to be a long weekend.

—

From morning yoga to late night barbecues, swimming and then rehearsals, you were exhausted. Not to mention keeping up appearances with Matthew: hand holding, arms wrapped around waists, and too many forehead kisses to count were wearing on you. It was starting to feel real and thinking about what was to come when the weekend was over and you’d go your separate ways was overwhelming.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, which was hard enough, was that the last week or so with Matthew had been nothing short of amazing. You didn’t date, really ever. It was hard enough being Connor McDavid’s sister and trying to figure out if someone actually wanted to be with you vs. wanting to know your brother and the perks it comes with but, with Matthew that didn’t exist. You didn’t have to question why he wanted to be around, and while yes, you know each other because of Connor, you were friends in your own right.

The morning of the wedding came quickly, finally managing to get a solid amount of sleep and it was easy to figure out why when you accounted for the fact Matthew’s chest was beneath your cheek when you woke up. So far you’d both managed to keep separate throughout the night, at least as far as you could tell since he was up before you most mornings so this was surprising. 

Matthew shifts beneath you and you peer up as he blinks his eyes open, gaze catching yours. “Sorry,” you mumble, about to roll away when he catches you by the waist to hold you tight to him.

He groans deep in his chest as he stretches out and settles back against the pillows, content with a smile. “Mmm, don’t apologize. This is nice,” he tells you, thumb rubbing against the bare skin of your arm.

You hum in agreement before catching the time on the alarm clock opposite of you and sigh. “It is, but I’ve gotta get up. Bridesmaids duties call and if I’m late, Lauren will murder me and I’ve been having a nice time so I’d like to not ruin that.”

“I have too,” Matthew agrees, “I was nervous at first but it’s been kind of- fun? And having you around hasn’t been too terrible either.”

You pinch him in the side at that and he squawks, shuffling away. “Alright, alright. Damn,” he laughs, jumping out of bed. “I ruined the mood, I get it.”

A knock sounds on the door, your mother’s voice ringing out on the other side. “Sweetie, Lauren just called to make sure you’re awake. We’ve gotta head over soon.”

“I’ll be down in five,” you call back, throwing the covers off and shooting Matthew a glare. 

His hands come up in surrender and you laugh, closing the bathroom door behind you.

You don’t have to do much before leaving, since the ladies are getting ready over at Connor and Lauren’s cottage and the guys are coming here. Washing up and grabbing your bag, you blow a sarcastic kiss to Matthew on your way out and he rolls his eyes and catches it before you leave and your mother just laughs, teasing you for how cute the both of you are. 

The wedding is beautiful, as expected. The guest list is full of people who you’ve known most of your life, who have supported Connor throughout his career, and you’re immensely proud of the person he’s become.

You stand at the altar among Lauren’s best friends and watch your brother get married, near tears, seeing how happy he is. How happy they both are- you’re gaining a sister in her and it’s all kinds of crazy magical, how everything’s come together and that includes having Matthew as your date because he’s been kind of the best. 

Once dinner is done, the cake is cut and the happy couple has come through and been announced and their first dance out of the way, the dance floor opens up and everyone lets loose. The DJ is fun and plays throwback after throwback and Matthew keeps close to you, offering to refill your drink or ask if you need a break when slow songs come on. Eventually you do, toeing off your shoes and hiding them under your chair before slumping into the table. 

“I am pooped,” you whine, blowing your hair out of your face and groaning into your arms. 

“It’s a little early to be tapping out, babe,” Matthew chuckles, finishing off his beer. 

“God, I know. Lauren will kill me if I leave early,” you glance around the dance floor for her and see Celeste behind her, arms wrapped around each other's necks and you smile. “Are you having fun? I’m not keeping you from anything? I know the guys are around here somewhere.”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head, nudging his knee with yours. “Nope, nowhere else I wanna be.” He licks his lips and you track the movement, mesmerized. “And yeah, lots of fun. You’re not too bad of a date.”

You snort, “Thanks. Really appreciate that.”

A few songs later and a discussion of the rest of your summer plans gone, you both join the dance floor again when a slow song hits. Matthew’s hands slide low on your waist and your hands clasp behind his neck, swaying to the beat. The music is soft and you can hear the nighttime noises from the woods behind you, the lapping of the lake against the dock that’s not too far away. It’s calming and Matthew pulls you a little closer, your head just close enough to rest against his chest.

“Have you thought about the favor you want when this is all done?” He wonders, keeping his voice low so only you can hear.

Honestly you’d forgotten all about the deal you’d made- it wasn’t exactly a hardship to play fake girlfriend to Matthew because it wasn’t all that different to how you normally interacted with him. But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe there was something you wanted. More time.

You tell him honestly, “Yeah. Later though,” and tuck your face back into his chest and will for the moment to never end.

—

It does come to an end. The wedding dies down a couple of hours later, Connor and Lauren waving everyone off and thanking the guests for coming. You and Matthew are both sober enough to make the small trek back to the cottage next door and he holds your hand the entire way back, using the excuse of not wanting to lose you in the dark. It’s tempting to call him on it but you don’t want him to let go either.

Your parents are already settled in bed when you both tiptoe up the stairs and you sigh in relief when you’re finally back in the bedroom, closing the door and immediately chucking your heels across the room.

Settling in for the last night, you turn over and feel brave, scooting closer to Matthew in the dark. 

“I don’t think I wanna fly back to Miami tomorrow,” you whisper, heart hammering. “I’ve still got the next week off and I was going to use it to catch up on some things around my apartment but I just. Don’t want to. You’re going back to St. Louis right?”

Matthew turns on his side to face you and you feel warmth spreading through your chest at the way he’s taking you in- like you’re something special, something to be taken care of. 

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” he tells you. “What are you thinking?”

“That I’m ready to cash in my favor.”

“Alright, hit me. What’ve you got?”

The look Matthew’s giving you is encouraging and you suddenly feel brave and steadily say, “Go somewhere with me.”

Matthew reaches across the short distance and his hand catches yours, twining your fingers together and asks, “Where are we going?”

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Fixing Bad Dreams

masterlist

summary: without even realizing, you’ve been using your powers to turn butcher’s bad dreams into good ones.

pairing: billy butcher x female supe!reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language, talk of sex

timeline: set after season 3

gif source

When Butcher had realized you were a Supe, obviously his first thought was that he had to kill you. But he soon realized you weren’t like the others. Not in a “oh she’s still a good person” way, but in a “wow she’s fucking weak, she’s basically still human” way. It was true. Essentially all you could do was send telepathic messages to people. That was it. (You also had a slight healing factor, but even that wasn’t very strong.) You couldn’t read minds, you couldn’t move things with your mind, you were barely a Supe.

Or, maybe he was just trying to justify sleeping with you. Whether he’d admit it or not, he really liked sleeping with you. Not just the sex, he liked physically sleeping next to you. With you. He’d sleep best when it was next to you. He wouldn’t wake up in a cold sweat, he wouldn’t have nightmares about watching his wife die bloody.

Most of the time, you woke up before him. You’d find his shirt from the night before and put it on, along with your panties if you could find them. Although, Butcher tended to rip your more delicate ones.

As you tiptoed around the room looking for where he had thrown your underwear you heard him mumble something in his sleep. You hurried next to him, his brows furrowed as he clenched the sheets in tight fists.

You held his cheek, bent down, and kissed his forehead. That always calmed him right down, you didn’t know why. And it did just that; he unclenched his fists, unfurrowed his brows, and let out a soft breath of air.

You smiled at the thought. The great William Butcher like forehead kisses in his sleep. That’s what calmed him down.

He stirred awake shortly after, seeing you looking around the room still.

“Mornin’ love,” He yawned. “What’re you lookin’ for?”

“Good morning,” You smiled and walked over to him, taking a seat on the bed. “You sleep okay?” You ran a hand through his hair then down his cheek, stopping to bend down and kiss him sweetly.

“Great, love,” He smiled. “Was havin’ a bit of a nightmare but it turned into us making out in the office the other day.”

“Really?” You furrowed your brows a little.

“Yeah, why?”

“Uh…no reason,” You shook your head a little.

“So, what were you looking for?” He asked, intentionally changing the subject.

“Where the hell did you throw my panties last night?” You asked, turning to glance around the room. He reached under his pillow and pulled out what you’d been looking for.

“I may have hid ‘em so you’d make me breakfast without wearin’ ‘em,” He smirked.

“All you had to do was ask,” You smiled. You leaned down and kissed him again before you stood up. “Bacon and eggs ‘ll be ready in a few minutes, come meet me in the kitchen?”

“I’ll be right there.”

**

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Butcher chuckled a few days later. You walked up to him cooking pancakes, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Smells amazing,” You hummed. You got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

As you sat down at the table you let out a soft laugh.

“Okay, seriously, why’re you in such a good mood?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” You shrugged.

“Cause the A/C stopped working halfway through the night and we both lost a good two hours of sleep?” He raised a brow.

“Remember last summer? We went to that water park with Hughie and the others after the tests came back negative and you were cancer free?”

“Yeah, what about it?” He turned to look at you fully, suddenly very interested in each word you said.

“After the A/C went out I had the best, most intense dream about it! I mean, the smell of the chlorine in the wave pool, the sound of those birds that kept trying to take your fries, everything!”

“Huh…I’ll be fuckin’ damned,” Butcher mumbled, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“What?”

“Nothin’ love, I remember that day too.”

**

Grass so green it looked fake, the sky so blue and clouds so perfect it all looked like a Bob Ross painting. Birds chirped in the trees as Butcher dipped down and kissed you again.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” He smiled. He rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, under your floral dress.

A picnic in the park with William Butcher. A fucking dream come true.

The cruel sound of the alarm jolted you awake. Butcher stretched his arm out and over you, hitting the snooze button.

“Perfect fucking timing,” He grumbled. “I think I was about to get lucky.”

“Me too, actually,” You laughed a little. “Guess we’ll have to make it up to each other.”

**

“Hey, let’s eat breakfast outside,” Butcher suggested.

“You hate eating outside?” You laughed a little. You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Butcher cook breakfast.

“Don’t be silly! On occasion, picnics can be fun!”

“P-Picnics?” You furrowed your brows. “What gave you that idea?”

“Just a dream I had.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Were you putting thoughts in his head? Messing with his dreams enough that it influenced his life when he was awake? How else were you messing with his head?

“Earth to Y/n!” Butcher pulled you out of your head.

“Huh?”

“I said food’s ready. Now, c’mon, get off your ass and eat outside with me.”

“Okay,” You smiled, hiding how worried you actually were.

You followed him out to the balcony overlooking the busy city.

“So what was your dream?” He asked when you both sat down at the outside table.

“Wh-What dream?” You asked.

“Remember? We both woke up to the alarm, both said we were about to get lucky in our dreams, and then we had earth-shattering morning sex. So, what was your dream?”

“I- I don’t really remember it…now all I’m thinking about is the earth-shattering morning sex,” You smirked a little.

“Ah ha!” He matched your expression, but added a sense of pride. “That’s my job, love.”

**

“Butcher, we need to talk,” You said later that night. He was ready for bed and already under the covers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brows knitted with concern.

“I- I don’t think I sh-should sleep with you anymore,” You replied, tears in your eyes.

“You’re breaking up with me? Why?”

“No! I- I fucking love you and that why I need to get as far away from you as fucking possible!”

“Y/n, you’re not makin’ any sense,” He got out of bed and walked up to you. You backed away from him, shaking your head.

“I- I’ve been- I think I’ve been messing with your h-head somehow,” You let the tears fall. “Not on purpose, I swear! But I- I’ve been controlling your dreams, so who knows how else I’ve been controlling you!”

“I know about the dreams.”

“What?”

“I figured it out a couple weeks ago. You were going into detail about a dream you had the night before, and it was the same dream I had.”

“Why didn’t you say something! Butcher I could be completely controlling you! You probably don’t even really want to fucking be here! Fuck!” You put your hands on your head.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to act how you’re acting right now. I knew you weren’t doing it on purpose, otherwise you wouldn’t have told me your dream.”

“B-But what if…”

“What if what, Y/n? You really think you could accidentally force me to love you?” He took a few steps closer to you, this time you didn’t back away. You nodded. “Alright, how ‘bout this. Right now, try your absolute hardest to make me do something.” He put his hands on your shoulders and touched his forehead to yours. “Go on, use your powers on me.”

“I’m trying!” You exclaimed. You really were, but he was right; you weren’t nearly strong enough to mind-control someone. You let out a breath of relief. “Fuck, that would’ve been a fucking nightmare!”

“Well, good thing that’s your specialty then, love. Turning nightmares into the best fuckin’ dreams I could ask for.”

“I love you, Butcher,” You smiled and he did the same.

“I love ya, too,” He mumbled as he kissed your lips.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 8

pairing:max Verstappen x single mom!reader x logan sargeant {masterlist}{prev} {next} warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, smut (minors DNI) Summary: you can start a family who will always show you love, you don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own word count: 7.5k auth.note: smut gods have returned to me all hail spotify: i made a playlist taglist: to be added to this or my other taglists, use this form

"Ahh." The sigh was accompanied by a happy grin as he leaned back, his eyes closed against the sun.

Y/n snorted on a laugh. "Living the life, huh, doodle bug?" she teased, watching him tuck his arms behind his head.

"Uh huh." Kevin wrinkled his nose when she reached to rub more sunscreen on his face. "When Mister Logan gets here can we go in the water?"

"Of course, you know he promised to take you in." She personally didn't venture far past where the waves broke. At least Kevin was content to play in the sand until Logan came down, which should be soon.

"He's not afraid of the water," Kevin said, sitting up so she could apply sunscreen to his ears and neck.

"Nope, he's not," she murmured, squeezing the cream onto his hand so he could rub it into his arms. "Mama's not afraid, either. I'm just afraid of what's in the water."

Kevin giggled, flopping back on the blanket like a starfish. "Just fishes, mama!"

"Ugh, and jellyfish and seaweed and crabs and—" She shuddered dramatically, smoothing his sun shirt and helping herself to a drink from the cooler before settling back in her beach chair, content to sit under the umbrella and watch the waves.

They'd arrived in North Carolina late the night before. Kevin had invited Logan to the family beach trip and she'd been surprised when he'd said he would love to go, having assumed he wanted to spend the summer break with his own family. And then she'd worried that it was too soon to introduce him to her parents, that it was pushing things into the serious category. And then—

"Jesus christ, y/n, take the boy and have fun."

Ellie's words rang in her mind and she gave her head a little shake. She didn't know why she'd worried. Her family seemed to like him. Her dad and uncle had invited him to go fishing with them after talking to him for five minutes, and they'd taken him down to their favorite shop to get him the gear.

She wondered what they'd say when they found out she was also dating the grote maat Mister Max that Kevin kept talking about.

"Y/n!"

Turning, she saw her mom coming along the boardwalk from the cottage. She half stood, then groaned when she noticed the phone she was carrying. "I'm on vacation," she whined even though her mom couldn't hear her. Next to her, Kevin giggled.

"Might be Aunt Ellie?" he asked, staying on the blanket as she snorted and crossed the sand to meet her mom at the bottom of the steps down the dune.

"Someone named Max keeps calling you," her mom said, handing over the phone.

Frowning, she took the phone and squinted at it in the sunlight. "I should call him back—"

"Go on, I'll sit with Kevin. Your dad just texted me, they're on the way back now." Her mom patted her shoulder and headed across the sand.

Worried that something might be wrong, she jogged up the steps and to the cottage, breathing a sigh as soon as she was inside and could see the screen properly. Seven missed calls, two voicemails. Her heart thudded as she saw his most recent text – Call me please – and she did so immediately, pacing on the screened in porch of the second level.

"What's wrong?" she blurted as soon as the call connected.

Max let out a breath. "Wrong?"

"You've called me seven times."

"Yes. I need directions."

She held her breath and pressed her lips together. It had only been two days and it was so nice to hear his voice, but she couldn't focus on that right now. "Directions."

"Well, an address would be better."

"Do I look like Google maps?" she huffed.

Max laughed. "Didn't you listen to my voicemails or read the texts?"

Muttering a curse, she pulled the phone from her ear and went to her texts.

I need to meet with Logan and don't have his number.

I'm in the States, coming your way. It's important. Call me?

Y/n, where's the beach place? All I know is OBX and I need an address.

"You're coming here?!" she yelped, pressing the phone to her ear again.

"Yes…"

"What's going on? Why do you need to talk to Logan?" she asked.

"I'll explain everything when I get there."

"Is it bad?" She couldn't help but worry.

"No, I promise it's not bad. It's about next year."

Her heart dropped at the thought of next year, because she knew Logan didn't have a seat. But Max said it wasn't bad? Her heart lifted, lodging in her throat. "Do you know something?"

He groaned. "I just landed in… Currituck?"

"Oh my god," she gasped. "You're really here?"

"I'm really here." And she could hear the gentle smile in his voice.

"I'll text you the address." She rubbed a hand over her face. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry, schatje."

Just like that, he was forgiven. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Can't wait," he murmured.

Ending the call, she texted him the cottage's address, torn between giddiness and anxiety. Kevin would be so happy. She was so happy. Logan would be—

Logan.

Calling him, she waited for Max's acknowledgment of her text, unable to keep the smile from her face as the thumbs up emoji appeared.

"Hey babe, we're like two minutes away," Logan greeted. He sounded so relaxed and happy it made her heart want to sing.

"Clingy!" her uncle's voice rang out in the background.

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but laugh. "I just talked to Max."

"Yeah? He good?"

"Um… He's on his way here."

There was a beat of silence, though she could hear her father and uncle yapping in the background. "Wait, really?" Logan asked. "Why?"

"He said he has to meet with you. He—" She pulled the phone away to glance at the text from Max. "He'll be here in about forty-five minutes. All he said is it's about next year."

"Nothing's happened, has it?" he asked softly.

"He said it isn't bad," she promised, hearing his breath of relief.

"I— Shit, we're here, see you in a sec."

She laughed and ended the call, hearing the slamming of truck doors. After glancing out at the beach to see her mom and Kevin chasing the waves across the sand, she made her way to the back of the cottage and down to the ground level, squealing softly when Logan wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the bottom step.

"You look so hot," he murmured before giving her a kiss.

"It's like ninety degrees out, of course—"

"You know what I mean," he groaned, kissing her again as he set her down on the cement.

"Gross," her dad muttered.

Wrinkling her nose, she ignored her father and smiled up at Logan. "Did you get your gear?"

"Yeah, I'll show you later? Gonna change and hit the water with Kev before Max shows up," he murmured. There was worry in his eyes, though, and she squeezed his hand before going back up the stairs and inside to the bedroom they shared, grabbing a hair tie to fix her messy bun. Logan reached around her to put his wallet on the dresser and she saw the hair tie around his wrist, where he'd put it the week before. Every time she saw it she felt the need to hug him and settled for patting his arm for now, smiling when he dropped a kiss to her shoulder.

"He promised it isn't bad," she reminded him as he pulled a pair of board shorts from his suitcase.

"I know, but…" He sighed.

"Babe," she murmured, waiting for him to look at her. "We're on vacation, remember? No stress."

"No stress," he agreed with a nod. "You coming down to the beach?"

She nodded, picking up her phone and setting a timer so she could be on the lookout for Max. "Can't miss Kev's first dip of the summer."

"Your dad pointed out a miniature golf place on the way back," he said as they headed out. "I was thinking we could go one day while we're here? Seems like something Kev would enjoy."

"He'd love that. And maybe hit one of the go-kart tracks?"

Logan's face lit. "They've got karting?"

"Calm down, it's regular people karting," she laughed.

Thanking the driver again, Max shouldered his backpack and glanced warily at the house, trying to decipher where the entrance was. It was built on stilts, two trucks parked beneath the house, two SUVs parked to the side. About to pull out his phone to call y/n, he heard a door slam and looked up, smiling at the sight of her in a bikini leaning over the railing of the porch above.

"You really flew here to see Logan?" she called down and he had to laugh.

Because it sounded so ridiculous, him flying all the way to America to talk to Logan. A conversation that could easily have been done over the phone. Or FaceTime. And yet…

He'd wanted to see them. All three of them.

She was walking to the end of the porch and he finally saw the stairs going up. Even though he was exhausted from the flight and the wait for the second flight and the drive down to her family's vacation home he moved quickly, surprised at how happy he was to see her again even though it had only been a few days.

"Hey," she murmured when they met at the halfway point of the stairs.

"Schatje," he sighed, dropping his suitcase as she wrapped her arms around him. Sunkissed skin was warm beneath his hands and he sighed, breathing in cocoa butter and watermelon. He wished the kiss could have lasted longer and relished every second of it, still awed at each physical touch from her after so many weeks of stolen hugs and lingering kisses.

"Logan's in the water with Kevin," she told him as she led him upstairs and into the house. "You can change in our room – you can't go on the beach in jeans."

He scoffed at that, following her down the hallway and into a bedroom while she told him the cottage had six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a ground level apartment that they only used for storage and laundry, and the upper level was where the living, dining, and kitchen were, along with another bedroom suite and a sun deck.

"Your family owns it?" he asked, setting his backpack down as he glanced around, seeing evidence that she and Logan had spent time in the room. Seeing her nod, he looked around again. "It's quite expensive, isn't it?"

"I don't know the details, my grandparents bought it back in the 1980s… My mom said a few years ago it was assessed at around two million. Why?"

"I didn't know you were rich," he teased.

Her jaw dropped. "We're not!"

"It's not a bad thing, schatje."

"I'm not rich. Neither are my parents. They both work, and they rent this out year-round to pay the taxes and the upkeep and…" She narrowed her eyes and huffed out a breath. "I'm not gonna defend my family against a man who owns his own jet."

Laughing, he reached to unbuckle his belt, hesitating only briefly.

She cleared her throat. "Come on upstairs and I'll introduce you once you've changed? Then we can hit the beach?"

He nodded, waiting until she'd left and closed the door before taking off his jeans. They hadn't been intimate, yet, and he had decided he wasn't going to ask her about it or even mention it. Their relationship was far from traditional, far from anything he'd ever experienced. They'd agreed to keep things as private and almost secretive as possible because he was still worried she could lose her job, and though he wanted to be open about it, to casually mention on a stream or in a conversation – can't make it, going to dinner with y/n – he found he didn't mind holding it close. The only people that knew were Logan, y/n, and himself. And Kevin, because even before he'd admitted to himself that he wanted to be more than just friends with her the boy had pointedly said—

"You like mama."

If only Kevin knew the half of it.

After changing he made his way upstairs, hearing y/n's voice along with others. The stairwell led into a large open living area and he paused, enjoying the familial scene of y/n stirring something in a pot while a woman who looked like a slightly older version of her sat on a stool at the counter, writing something down. Another woman was sitting next to her, pointing out things in a grocery store sales paper.

The top stair creaked, and all three women turned to look at Max.

"Oh hello," the woman writing gave him a warm smile as she set the pen down and slid off the stool. "You must be Max."

"Yeah, that's me," he greeted, glancing at y/n.

Y/n put the lid on the pot and walked over and made the introductions. Max couldn't help but notice she'd put an oversized shirt on over her bikini and so he kept his expression neutral, understanding without her telling him that her family was unaware they were more than just friends.

"We're so happy to have you, Kevin won't shut up about you," y/n's mother said with a grin. "Y/n said you came all this way to talk to Logan?"

"Yes… I won't intrude for long," he began.

"Oh no honey you're not intruding at all. You'll have to stay a few days." She patted his shoulder. "We've got plenty of room."

Max got the feeling that if he tried to decline he'd be ignored so he merely smiled and nodded, thanking her even though she was already walking away, telling y/n's aunt that they would go to the store after she made the bed for him. Glancing to y/n, he rolled his eyes when she merely shrugged.

"Better get you to the beach before she has you staying here the whole summer break," she muttered, leading him through the living area to the open sliding glass door that led out onto a sunny deck. "Mom, we're going to the beach so he can see Logan and Kevin."

"Alright – send me a text if there's anything he can't or won't eat," her mother called after them. "We're gonna get some groceries."

"I'll introduce you to my dad and uncle later, they went down to the pier," y/n assured him, closing the door.

Glancing in the direction she pointed, Max could just make out the pier and nodded, following her down another set of stairs and past an outdoor shower. She pointed out the covered porch on the lower level, mentioning a hot tub then led him along the boardwalk over the dune.

"It's not St. Tropez or the Bahamas," she said as they stood at the top of the steps, both watching Logan lift Kevin above the cresting waves at the shoreline. "But it's…"

Max nodded, lightly brushing her fingers with his. "It's special to you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "It is."

"Then it's beautiful," he said, watching a small wave crash over Kevin, smiling when he heard the boy's delighted squeals.

"Oh, Max," she sighed. He barely caught it before the wind took it away, but he knew he would hold onto the glimmer in her eye for the rest of his life.

"Mister Max!" Kevin shrieked.

He was dripping wet and half covered in sand by the time Max got to him but he scooped him up regardless, grinning as the boy hugged his neck tightly. "I missed you too, kleine maat," he promised. "You're having fun, hm?"

Kevin nodded vigorously, water spraying from his curly hair. "We took the plane and Mister Logan got us ice cream and Mama slept while Mister Logan drived us! And Nana cooked us hot dogs at midnight! And I'm goin' fishin' with Papa and Uncle Mike and Mister Logan!"

"I can't wait to see how many fish you catch." Max hugged him back, nodding when Kevin asked if they could build a sandcastle one day.

"I gotta pee," Kevin announced.

"I told him to go in the water," Logan said with a chuckle, shaking water from his hair.

"Ew." Kevin sounded disgusted and Max grinned, handing him over to his mother.

"C'mon, let's get to the bathroom," she sighed, settling him on her hip before sharing a look with Logan and Max.

"We'll get the stuff, babe," Logan promised.

Max watched her walk back towards the cottage, waiting until they disappeared from his view before turning to Logan. The smile had faded from his face and he sighed. "It's not bad, mate."

"You flew halfway around the world without warning, Max, what am I supposed to think?" Logan sighed harshly. "Did you hear something? I already know Carlos has my spot—"

"It's not about him," he assured, walking with him to the beach chairs and umbrella, wordlessly helping him shake the sand from the towels and stuff them into the bag. "It's Checo."

Logan jerked his head up, brow furrowing as he grabbed the shirt from the back of one of the chairs. "Checo?"

"You can't tell—"

The other man nodded. "A soul, I know."

"His contract renewal is being canceled. It might already be, I haven't checked in with Christian since I landed." He'd been too focused on getting here. On seeing them. Max watched him pull the shirt over his head, smiling faintly at the Red Bull emblem now over his chest.

"Really? I thought…" Logan combed his fingers through his hair.

Shrugging, he watched droplets of seawater trickle down Logan's neck and unconsciously licked his lips. "His performance is lacking. Resting on his laurels, Christian said."

"So who's gonna replace him?" Logan reached to lower the umbrella and Max belatedly pulled a chair over to fold it.

"I don't know. They're thinking Daniel. It's not a hundred percent guaranteed."

"You came out all this way just to tell me this?" Logan looked confused.

"No, I came to tell you that—" Max finally got the chair folded and let it drop onto the sand. "I know Daniel will take the seat. It might not be fully decided, but Christian wants him, I want him, and I know he'll gladly come back to the team."

Logan nodded, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I'm happy for him. He was great in Red Bull."

"Yeah—"

"What's this gotta do with me?"

And Max knew it had to happen. That he had to do everything in his power, short of threatening to tear up his own contract, to make what he was about to say come true. "I talked to Christian last night. He's got a good relationship with Laurent, and… Well, I told him you deserve Daniel's spot."

The umbrella fell over. "You what?"

"I told him—"

"Do you really think that?" Logan asked softly.

Max rubbed the back of his neck, finally nodding. "Well, yeah. You just need a good team, mate."

Logan smiled. Above the sound of the wind and the waves Max heard his breath stutter and swallowed hard. "I really appreciate it, Max. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he assured him. "I'll message Christian, tell him you're interested. That's all I can do."

"That's more than most people would do for me." Smiling, Logan reached out and Max was being hugged. He faltered at first, not expecting the touch, but quickly recovered, returning the embrace. Logan chuckled, apologizing for being wet.

Max shook his head, finding he didn't mind that the hug lasted longer than it really should have. "It's fine."

"Are you staying?" The question came as they walked back to the cottage.

"Her mum didn't even ask, she just told me I have to stay a few days." Max opened his mouth to apologize for barging in on their time together, but Logan's next words stopped him.

"That's good, mate, we love having you around."

He mulled that over while he followed Logan to the ground level apartment, glancing around at the accumulation of years of family beach time. Floaties, chairs, umbrellas, beach toys. Bins were labeled and stacked in an attempt at organization but it was a bit messy, like a family should be. Handing over the towels when Logan led him into the laundry room, he cleared his throat. "Do you?"

"Huh?"

"Love having me around," he mumbled.

"Well, yeah." Logan gave him a grin, tossing the towels into the washer and peeling off his shirt. "It's like… I don't know, probably sounds weird."

"We're both dating the same woman, mate, can't get weirder than that."

Logan's laugh made the chill, damp room seem warm and bright. "True. But it's like… It feels complete when you're with us. You know what I mean?"

He did but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I love being with her. And Kev. They…" Logan paused, pulling a clean towel from the basket on top of the dryer. "They mean the world to me."

Max nodded. He knew that feeling very well. "Then—"

"And you just…" He shrugged, and Max looked away when he reached to take off his wet shorts. "You balance us out, you know?"

"I know," he whispered, waiting until he heard the lid of the washer clang shut before looking back at him, wondering why he was almost disappointed to see the towel wrapped around his hips. "I know what you mean, mate."

"It's weird, huh?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "But I kind of like it."

The words echoed back to him in Logan's voice and his breath caught as their eyes met. Logan looked surprised too and they both stared at one another. Max knew he should say something – anything – but he couldn't think of a thing to say. At least, nothing that would change the subject.

"I need you to get that seat next season. For you. For y/n. For Kevin. For us."

"Us," Logan repeated.

Was this how she felt when Logan looked into her eyes? Breathless and a little shaky and body thrumming with anticipation? Or was she used to it now? Did Logan feel it, too? Or had he gone completely insane in the past three months? He nodded. "Us. Th-the four of us. Or the two of us – I mean. Fuck, I know what I mean. You're not stupid, you know what I mean too."

"I know." Barely a whisper. "I just didn't know you felt it, too."

Too. "How long?" he asked softly.

Logan swallowed. "I dunno. Since you started talking to me more. Maybe Montreal, when I could tell you didn't care I wanted to hang out with you and Kev."

He wanted to ask why he hadn't said anything. But he already knew because he hadn't said anything for the same reasons. Logan was bad at talking about his feelings, and Max wasn't much better. Especially feelings like this, that he knew would be ridiculed by some people around them. "It's not… Weird?"

A smile that crinkled his eyes and Max barely heard the words. "Yeah, but I kind of like it."

Her family liked Max. She'd known they would, known his wit and laidback attitude would charm them, not to mention the way he doted on Kevin. Her mother did give her a look when Kevin slipped and called Max Daddy again, but she was able to avoid that possibly awkward conversation by putting away groceries then taking Kevin to the beach to build a sandcastle with Max, then putting him down for a nap and taking a shower and then it was time to start dinner and she slipped away to enjoy a couple drinks up on the sun deck with guys. Her dad talked about fishing and when he mentioned doing one of the deep-sea fishing tours Max voiced an interest. The next thing she knew she was trailing behind the four men back inside, bewildered as they crowded around her uncle's laptop to pull up the website and book a boat at the end of the week.

"As long as you don't mind me staying longer than a couple days," Max said.

"Naw, of course not." This from Uncle Mike. "You're a good kid."

She knew she was grinning like a fool, and it only widened when Max glanced up to smile at her.

"Yeah he's alright," Logan said, grinning and throwing an arm around Max's shoulders and squeezing.

Oh. She lifted an eyebrow at that and saw Max's cheeks turn pink before he ducked his head again, and decided that was another delayed conversation. Finishing her drink, she hummed softly as she carried the bottle to the sink to rinse it before tossing it into the recycling bin and checking the marinara sauce. "I'm gonna go check on Kev," she told her mom, who nodded.

As if summoned, Kevin came shuffling up the stairs, dragging his blanket and stuffed Snoopy along with him. His hair was a wild mess of curls and his cheeks were pink from being in the sun earlier, and when he saw that Max was still there he grinned, ignoring her completely in favor of Max and Logan. She felt her heart turn to mush as the two men spoke gently to him, asking about his nap and if he'd gone potty, was he hungry for dinner, all while Max fixed his blanket and Logan shifted him so he was tucked between them on the couch.

Her mom hummed softly, giving her a smile.

Her aunt was less reserved. "So nice of your boyfriend's boyfriend to join us," she said softly.

"Carol!" her mom squawked, slapping her with a dishtowel.

"Oh like you weren't thinking it," Carol huffed, rolling her eyes. "Mike, the salad."

"Yep, I'm coming – here, finish this reservation for us," Mike said, pushing the laptop to Max. "Use this card."

Y/n pretended not to notice that Max used his own card. Shooed from the kitchen, she joined him and Kevin on the couch when Logan insisted on helping fix the salad. "Deep-sea fishing, huh?"

"I'm not a fisher, but I think it'll be fun, yeah?" He left the laptop open on the confirmation screen, leaning to set it on the coffee table.

"What's dipsy fishing?" Kevin asked.

Max laughed softly, smoothing his unruly curls as he explained. When Kevin said he wanted to go, Max was gentle but firm that he wasn't quite big enough just yet.

When he promised to take him as soon as he was big enough, y/n knew nothing and no one in the world would stop him. Because Max kept his promises.

"Okay," Kevin murmured, giving him a hug before sliding down, saying he was going to pee.

Max leaned back with a soft sigh. "I spoke to Logan."

"Will you tell me?" she asked.

"You'll find out soon enough, but…" He sighed again, and she listened in surprise and fascination as he told her about Checo, about Daniel, about him pushing Christian to suggest Logan for Daniel's vacancy.

"Oh Max," she whispered, touching his arm briefly. She couldn't hug him – aunt Carol might have teased about Max being Logan's boyfriend, but she knew her hugging him would raise questions she wasn't sure she knew the answer to just yet. So she squeezed his arm, knew by the way he nodded that he understood. If he were anyone else she would question his motives, maybe even accuse him of trying to help Logan as a way to impress her, but she knew Max well enough to know he wouldn't stand up for Logan if he didn't believe in him as a driver.

"Don't cry, schatje," he whispered, lightly patting her thigh.

"I won't," she mumbled despite feeling the sting in her eyes.

"Go check on Kevin," he suggested.

She nodded, getting to her feet and heading to the bathroom, knowing it was his way of making sure no one noticed her tears if and when they fell. Her son was just finishing up and she fixed his shorts, dabbing a little of her mom's aloe vera onto his pink cheeks. It pulled her mind off her emotions and she washed her hands, feeling relatively normal when she began setting the table.

Dinner was leisurely and filled with chatter and laughter, Kevin telling his grandparents about the race tracks he'd been to, though his stories revolved around the animals he'd seen as opposed to the actual races. Max and Logan took turns asking her parents questions about themselves and when they both set their forks down to listen to her father talk about growing up on a farm she knew they'd won him over. And when Max insisted he and Logan take care of the dishes she was certain her mom and aunt fell in love a little bit.

After dinner her parents went for a walk on the beach and her aunt and uncle went to a local bar. Kevin was content to watch a movie, still obviously tired from spending most of the day on the beach, and Logan stretched out on the couch with him. She could tell that the jet lag was getting to Max so she went down to move his suitcase and backpack into the bedroom across from the one she and Logan were sharing. He followed her a few moments later, and she looked over her shoulder to see him leaning in the doorway as she turned on the lamp.

"Are you going to tuck me in, too?" he asked with a smile.

She rolled her eyes, smiling as she crossed to him. "Don't you think you're a little too old to be tucked in?"

He scoffed softly, stepping into the room and winding his arm around her waist. "Will you stay with me a bit?"

"Of course."

She sat on the bed, getting comfortable and leaning against the pillows while he undressed to his boxer briefs and pulled on a clean t-shirt. He filled her in on how Jimmy and Sassy were doing then went into the ensuite with his toiletry bag, returning after a couple minutes and practically collapsing onto the bed next to her. She reached to smooth her hand over his head. "Still can't believe you flew fourteen hours for something that could have been a phone call."

Max smiled, idly tracing her knee with one finger, shifting so his head rested in her lap. "It could have been, but…"

She stayed silent, continuing to run her fingers through his short hair. Simply enjoying the quiet moment alone with him. Usually they were strained, a time limit set in place because a million things were waiting to be done. Feeling him relax, she unfolded her legs, smiling when he turned so he could look up at her.

Oh how she adored his eyes. How they could change from crystal clear to the deep of the ocean that was so close to them. She had been so foolish, thinking them just a normal blue, when they held all the shades and hues of the skies and seas that she loved. And the more she looked into them the more she saw the emotions.

They shone with vulnerability right now.

"I've grown used to you being close by," he whispered. "Is it too soon to say that?"

"No, I don't think so," she murmured. "I don't want to think about having to follow a specific timeline in a relationship."

"Figure it out as we go, right?" His smile chased the fear from his eyes.

"Are we figuring it out?" she asked softly, though she thought she knew the answer.

"I think we already did."

There was a soft knock on the door and she sighed at the interruption.

"Yeah?" Max called softly.

The door opened and Logan leaned in, a half-sleep Kevin on his shoulder. "Someone wants to say goodnight."

Y/n began to slide to the edge of the bed as Max sat up. "I'll ta—"

"I've got him, babe, it's okay." Logan brought Kevin over, motioning for her to sit back as he passed Kevin to Max.

Max hummed, and she immediately relaxed. He exchanged goodnights with Kevin and she felt her heart filling with warmth as the boy hugged him tightly, whispering love you before shuffling over to her.

"Goodnight sweetheart," she whispered, hugging him close and peppering his face with kisses. "Love you so much."

"G'night mama, love you." Kevin kissed her cheek then crawled over to Logan.

All she could feel was peace in that moment and she leaned back against the pillows, watching the way Logan held her son. Gently. Protectively.

Lovingly.

He leaned down, giving her a gentle kiss. "I'm gonna go to bed, too. Your dad wants to leave early."

"I'll be in in a little while," she whispered.

"No rush," he promised with a quick smile.

She turned onto her side while he and Max exchanged goodnights, noticing the way Logan hesitated as if he wanted a little something more. She also noticed that Max gave another, softer, goodnight right before Logan turned to leave, and met his gaze when he settled next to her again as the door clicked shut.

"What?" he murmured.

"My boyfriend's boyfriend."

His cheeks turned pink. "I'm not… He's… It's not that."

"I don't know, you did fly halfway around the world to see him," she teased, giggling when he threw his arm over her waist and dragged her close.

"Careful, schatje, you're starting to sound jealous," he murmured against her lips.

"Of my boyfriends dating each other? Never." She felt his arm tighten around her and didn't mind when he pulled her closer.

"Not dating," he breathed.

"Flirting?" She shifted even closer, moaning softly as his leg slid between hers.

The muscles in his thigh twitched and he hummed, his kiss deepening briefly. "Maybe… Is… Is that okay?"

"Figuring it out," she reminded him.

"Figuring it out," he echoed before kissing her again. His hand came up, cradling her jaw as their bodies moved, and she didn't want it to stop, didn't want either of them to pull away. To her relief he didn't. His fingers tangled gently in her hair, his other hand trailing down her side.

She moved, thighs falling open so he could press closer while her hands slipped beneath the hem of his t-shirt, the feel of his skin beneath her fingers exhilarating and comforting as she traced the planes of his back. "Max," she breathed, one hand cupping the back of his head. This was the time when one of them pulled back and she parted her lips to beg him not to.

Then he whispered her name like it was a prayer. A plea.

Nodding, she leaned up for another kiss, body arching into his touch. His fingertips ignited a flame in her skin and she gasped against his lips, sitting up with him, reluctantly breaking the kiss so he could ease her tank top over her head. Eyes locked with his, she carefully pushed his t-shirt up. There was a brief pause once his shirt joined hers on the floor then he was kissing her again.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled after guiding her down and leaning back to stare at her.

Flushed with desire under his heated gaze, she licked her lips, shivering as his hand swept up her arm. His fingers danced over her collarbone then moved lower and she arched again, nipples hardening before he stroked the curve of her breast. His soft moan was pure sex and she brought her hands up to his neck, eager for his kiss.

He lowered his mouth to her breast instead. Kissing, licking, suckling gently until whines began to claw up her throat. He released her nipple and immediately turned to give the other the same treatment, his fingers lightly pinching and rolling the stiff peak to keep her squirming.

"Max," she gasped, an aching hunger forming deep inside her.

His lips were over hers in an instant, his hands moving to rest lightly at her hips, steadying her. His kiss was almost frenzied, his grip tightening each time she wriggled impatiently, and when her fingers dragged down to the waistband of his boxer briefs he let out a guttural moan. "I was planning to take my time," he mumbled, thumbs lightly stroking her hips before hooking in the band of her shorts.

"We can do that next time."

He groaned, nipping at her bottom lip. Then he was leaning back again, dragging her shorts and panties down, and she watched his tongue dart over his lips while he looked her over. "You really are beautiful, schatje," he whispered, palms brushing up her legs, fingers dancing lightly along her thighs. Her lips parted to speak but all that came out was a gasping moan when he cupped her. He stroked and teased, eyes wild and dark, until she could feel his fingers were slick, until she was trembling, and then—

"Max," she whined, hips pushing upwards and head falling back as his fingers rubbed small circles against her clit. She clutched at his sides, his forearms, and finally gripped the sheets, fingers twisting in the soft cotton while his fingers continued the delicious torment. So caught up in the pleasure, it didn't register that he was moving until he guided one leg over his shoulder. His breath was pure fire, his tongue molten lava replacing his fingers.

She forced her head upright, breath catching in her throat when she was met with his intense gaze. He rubbed and squeezed her thigh, moaning occasionally, his tongue dancing rapidly over her clit. Her last shred of self-control reminded her she couldn't be loud and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her sharp squeal. Her other hand dropped, curling tightly in his hair, and she was rewarded with a low growl from him, his hands splaying on her thighs as his tongue danced faster.

Her eyes widened and she nodded, holding her hand tightly over her mouth as her entire body burned, feeling weak with need. She moaned raggedly against her palm, heart racing in her chest. Pulling away her hand long enough to gasp out a new plea. "Don't stop…"

She felt him smirk and barely turned her head to stifle her sharp squeal with the pillow. Already close, she let her hips rock slowly, trying to focus on all the sensations and not just his tongue. His fingers digging into her thighs. The muscles of his back flexing beneath her foot. The scruff of his beard scraping her sensitive flesh. His breath pouring over her like a steaming waterfall. She squealed again then snatched in a breath and held it, back arching off the bed as she came, the pleasure so intense she could only let out a shaky, whining gasp.

He hummed, his tongue easing slightly, dragging out the delight, and when her body shuddered he slowed, his moan vibrating through her as he gently licked her clean. With a breathless chuckle he pressed kisses to her trembling thighs then crawled up, hands tender on her cheeks.

Y/n murmured his name, cupping his wrists and relishing the moment of tenderness as he stayed over her, the heat of his body calming her shivers. Tasting herself on his lips and tongue, she groaned softly, tongue darting out for a deeper taste while her hands slowly traveled down.

"I don't have a condom," he groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder.

She did but they were across the hall, and she knew that if she made that mad dash one of her family members would suddenly appear and ask her what the hell she was doing. Her mind scrambled, fingers frozen just above his boxer briefs then she licked her lips. "I'm on the pill, and you can pull out?"

Max released a questioning hum. "Are you sure?"

"I want – I need you," she breathed.

With a groan he lifted his head, eyes searching hers for a moment before he shifted, hands reaching to help her push his boxer briefs down. His soft hiss as her hand wrapped around his cock was more erotic than any other sound she could imagine in that moment and she hummed encouragingly, exploring the length and girth with her fingers. Until his hand covered hers and he moaned harshly against her lip, "I won't make it inside you if you keep doing that."

A giggle bubbled up her throat, dying on a whine as he settled more firmly between her thighs. His hand trembled slightly over hers then grabbed at her thigh, their breathless gasps mingling as she guided him along her slit. She wanted to draw it out until they were both begging but her desire won out and she moved her hand to his hip, nails digging into his skin as he pressed into her.

"Fuck," she moaned, hips rolling up to meet him.

His eyes were more intense than ever before and she felt the shudder ripple through his body while he kept still for several long seconds. "Y/n…"

It was a delicate mix of longing and need. She returned it with an eager nod, grabbing his shoulders to hold onto him as the slowness and gentleness melted away.

Frantic. Pure lust with dashes of tenderness. Each time her lips parted to make a sound his claimed them, muffling and swallowing each noise. The heat consumed her, and he was there, grounding her with his firm hold, his thrusts steady and unfaltering.

"So good," she gasped, lifting her leg higher against his waist.

"I know, I know," he moaned as he hooked his arm beneath her leg, angling her hips slightly.

The scant change sent the tip of his cock directly over her spot and she threw back her head, nails raking down his back and eliciting a sharp hiss from him. "Yes…"

"Right there, schatje?" he whispered, nuzzling her neck before dragging his lips over her jaw, smearing the sweat beading on her skin.

"Yes," she whined again, turning her head for his kiss. He tasted of sweat and sex and heaven and she whimpered against his tongue as ecstasy grew within her again. She could feel his thrusts falter and clenched around him, teeth sinking gently into his bottom lip. "Gonna come," she gasped, a harsh moan escaping when he suddenly released her leg, his hands fisting in the pillow on either side of her head. He pushed deeper than before, panting against her lips and she screamed into his kiss as the orgasm crashed through her. Her legs wrapped tight around him, pulling him deeper, and as she began to come down from the high he suddenly pulled out, leaving her gasping and missing the fullness. Looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as he sat back, she shivered, watching his hand wrap around his length, squeezing and stroking wildly.

"Where do you want it?" he asked in a breathless moan.

Her mind was blank, barely able to remember her own name, but when he released a strained groan she finally found the words. "Stomach," she managed to whisper.

He shifted, hand working fast and urgent and she stared in a haze of awe and longing at the way the muscles of his arm rippled and strained as he released a deep groan that made her tremble. The heat of his release splashed across her stomach in thick bursts.

Panting, she reached for him as soon as the last drops splattered over her hip, leaning up to meet his lips in a breathless kiss. He nearly collapsed over her and she could feel the thrumming of his heart against her breast. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, body craving the heat of his, and held onto him until he moved to slump next to her.

Chuckling, still breathless, his skin flushed and sweaty. He pulled her into his arms, lips bumping her forehead before he leaned away long enough to grab his discarded shirt. "Okay?" he whispered, using the shirt to wipe the cum from her skin.

Y/n hummed, still trembling with the aftershocks as he balled up the shirt and dropped it to the floor. Curling close, she nestled her head in the curve of his shoulder. "Yeah," she murmured. "Better than okay."

Max let out a soft hum. "Better?"

She nodded, her hand sliding to rest over his heart. "Perfect."

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[scorpiomother]

there is a light that never goes out

･ﾟ★ most of these days, i don't get too intimate / why would i let you in? but i think again

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

summary: you’ve tried to ignore the pestering infatuation you harbor for your fellow camp counselor, but when last day debauchery ensues, the lines between friendship and love blur.

tags: slow burn. summer camp. friends to lovers. pining. alcohol usage.

word count: 4.4k

a/n: mother is back and here is my love letter to the feverish bliss of a season and to everyones favorite muse, peter parker + this only took a broken laptop, nicotine and a full year to finish... so enjoy<3

playlist ☆ masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ kofi

You don’t think it’s possible to feel any warmer, but the mixture of everything is weighing in on you. The blossoming bonfire in accordance with the sultry sun. The tipsy hum in your chest. The occasional graze of Peter’s arm against your shoulder.

Sometimes you can’t bring yourself to look at him and this is one of those times.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the last day and you don’t know exactly what to do with yourself. Or it could be the muffled buzz in your chest that’s growing by the minute; telling you to do things you shouldn’t. Admit things you can’t. If you look at him for too long, you’re sure that your better judgment will fade into that tempting hum. 

You squint past the sun rays reflecting off of the lake and focus on all of the small things that don’t mean anything to you. A bottle here, a crushed can there. The flicker and burn of the fire. The new stains on your old Converse.

You search for the next best thing when a beer bottle appears, floating above your lap.

“Your turn,” Peter says.

His voice makes you want to look. It makes you want to say, huh? Then, he would have to repeat himself and you could watch the way his lips move. Instead, you murmur a soft thank you and take the bottle, eyes cemented on the shoreline.

The campers had left in the morning, and yet the feeling of childish abandonment and delight is still overflowing in the empty campgrounds. The handful of twenty-something-year-olds that stayed back for one last night to “clean up” the camp were quick to revel in the sudden freedom. By the time the last bus left with the campers and older counselors, they were already going on a liquor run and starting a bonfire on the shorelines in nothing but their swimwear. And as nice as it all was, you wish the kids were still there. They would distract you from the thoughts of Peter and now, you don’t know what to do when they come.

As you sip on the lukewarm beer, you feel eyes on you. You look up and sure enough, Peter is staring. His eyes are lighter than normal, a sheen like honey, and his expression is almost quizzical. That glint of amusement catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he smiles. “I’m just waiting for you to admit that you hate beer.”

“What?” you repeat with more confusion.

“Every time I pass you the bottle you frown.”

You furrow your brows. “No, I don’t.”

“Sure you do. And after you drink, you make a sour face,” he says plainly.

You’re about to protest when Peter reaches for the bottle and takes it from you, his hand skimming against yours in the process. 

“Creep,” you mumble. You drag your fingers along the skin that he touched and try to ignore the burn. "You’ve known me for like, what? Two months? And you think you know me like the back of your hand.”

“I wish,” he shrugs before downing the rest of the beer.

I wish. You’re biting the inside of your cheek now. “I- I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice and when you close your eyes, you can even see it. His closed mouth grin, full of satisfaction and knowing. 

Fuck. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mutter, standing up from the bench.

“‘Cause you hate beer, huh?” 

“‘Cause I’m thirsty.”

“Mhm, alright, Bug,” Peter says, smugly.

You can still feel his eyes on you as you walk towards the cooler by the dock and as much as you want to look back, you don’t.

You rummage through the cooler— a little more frantic than you should be. Beneath all the shitty beer and ice is a thick bottle of margarita mix and you pull it out in triumph. 

“Wow, going for the hard stuff, huh?”

You look up to see Harry standing in front of you with Patron in his right hand and a vape in his left. You scoff, “Says you. This shit is mostly juice anyways.”

Harry settles beside you and watches you pour yourself a cup. He smells like liquor, cologne, and bad news. 

“Make me a cup?” He slurs.

You hum in response.

You don’t trust Harry. Not for any particular reason, but he makes you unsure of yourself and you don’t like that. You fill his cup to the brim and hand it to him carefully.

“I’m surprised Peter isn’t here with you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ah, come on. You guys are two peas in a pod.”

“He’s my friend.”

“Is he though?”

“What else would he be?”

“Everyone knows you guys have a thing for each other.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, ruminating on his words. Your brain is teetering between joke or not. If he isn’t, then what? 

“Just friends,” you murmur in a way that doesn’t reach him. It sticks in the honeyed air like a mantra for yourself. 

Ever since the start of camp, Peter and you had been attached at the hips. You were both the new counselors, whereas everyone else had known each other from the year prior. During counselor orientation and the team-building exercises, you gravitated toward each other, sharing awkward laughs and stupid little comments. As the weeks went by, you got closer and closer. You had just met the guy and he was probably the closest you ever got to a person.

“So, that doesn’t bother you at all?” Harry raises a brow.

You look back and Gwen has replaced you on the bench. Peter’s looking at her with such adoration in his face that makes you feel a pang of jealousy. It spreads through your body like a fever.

His cheeks are full of warmth, laughter bellowing out from him so easily. The subtle flex of his bicep has you staring a little longer than you should. When he catches your stare, you mean to look away but the numbing heat makes you forget.

“What? No. Why would it?” You murmur, turning your attention back to Harry.

“Alright. Well, I’ll help you out. Just ‘cause it’s the last day,” Harry says before pouring an ungodly amount of Patron in your cup.

“Oh- I, um. Okay. Thank you,” you stutter. 

Harry takes his bottle and taps it to your cup. “To friends.”

“To friends,” you mumble under your breath before throwing back a couple of gulps.

Harry starts to talk about nonsense that you can no longer concentrate on. Your ears had zoned in on the laughter behind you, trying to figure out what was so funny to Peter. Have you ever made him laugh like that? 

There’s an invisible string tugging at your face, telling you to look back. Soak up the last of the daylight and the last of Peter, even if it hurts. You want to give into the compulsion, like looking at him is a tick you can’t help, but your attention falls on the dainty bumblebee fluttering innocently in the space between you and Harry.

“Oh, shit,” Harry yelps. His face is full of horror as the small thing dances around him.

“It’s just a bee,” you reassure him. 

Rather than calming down, Harry attempts to pull an ungraceful version of the matrix, bumping into you in the process. 

“Harry!” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry! I just- Fuck!” Before Harry could finish his apology, he’s running far from the docile insect and you.

“Fuckin’ Harry,” you mutter to yourself, looking at the stain of Red40 and Patron on your shirt and then to Peter.

He’s too preoccupied with Gwen to notice the mishap.

Like a small child, it hurts. The possessiveness sticks onto your skin like humidity. 

You down what’s left in your cup in one go and start walking to your cabin.

It was that second week of camp when your heart first succumbed to Peter. The two of you were on night watch and he entertained you with a game of Would You Rather while everyone else on the campgrounds slept soundly and the night insects trilled. 

Would you rather get stung by a bee or watch Isabella all by yourself? 

Give me the bee, you deadpanned.

Ouch, I’m gonna tell her what you said.

You wouldn’t, you scoffed.

You’re right, I won’t. That kid would probably start biting us both. 

One moment you’re laughing and the next, he’s whispering, wait, hold on. Stay still. So you do. You stayed as still as the night and suddenly, his hand was inching closer and closer to your face until his fingers grazed against your cheek. He held an eyelash in front of your lips and gently said, make a wish.

You hesitantly whispered a delicate oh, okay before absentmindedly blowing the eyelash away. 

I hope it was a good one, he grinned.

It was, you lied.

Everything after was hazy, with constant flashes of making a wish. If you could do it again, you would tell yourself to get a grip and not waste such a precious wish like you just did. If you could do it again, you would wish that Peter would grab that eyelash off your cheek again and again and again.

You’re already feeling the drink make its way to your head as you head on over to your cabin. You underestimated Harry’s heavy hand and the heat is working against you. Annoyingly, the wet shirt is enough to cool you down.

You wonder where the time went. It’s overwhelming to think about, especially now that you’re tipsy. Time is slipping through your fingers and you don’t know how you’re supposed to go back to the city and let this all turn into a memory— let Peter turn into a memory. 

In all honesty, you’re not so sure that you can. Eight weeks of children watching and sun soaking. Eight weeks of Peter and all of those almost kisses (two to be exact). Where was it supposed to go? In a shoebox of memories, farther away than you’d like it to be?

There’s a swelling feeling in your chest that quickly dissipates when Peter comes running behind you.

“Hey, hey, where did you go?”

You want to be spiteful and ask him what happened to Gwen. Instead, you bite your tongue.

“I’m right here, Bear,” you say.

“Well, yeah. I mean, what happened?”

“I just wanted to get something to drink and I-”

“You spilled all over yourself.”

“No, I didn’t. Harry did and I need a new shirt.”

“My cabin is right here,” he points out.

“It’s okay, I have my own clothes.”

“Bug, stop being stubborn.” He grabs your wrist, and you have no choice but to stop and look at him. The swelling returns as his brown eyes try to read you. “Trust me.”

“Okay?” 

You sigh. “Okay.”

His cabin is identical to yours. Three beds. Creaky wood all over. Light smell of mildew. You were there once before but you try not to think about it too much.

“Here, sit,” he says, patting the mattress.

Like a loyal dog, you obey quietly.

While Peter rustles through the drawers, mumbling where did I put it? you gaze at the Polaroids decorating the wall like his own personal scrapbook.

You notice one particular photo with you in it. You were setting up the projector for the first Movie Mondays. That night The Princess and the Frog played, the lights flickering green and blue on the flimsy screen that took you and Peter too long to put up. 

Oh my god, you sobbed halfway into the movie. Ray, the firefly, was singing Evangeline to his star, and it was enough to trigger an embarrassing fit out of you.

Are you crying? Peter whispered.

I’ve never wanted to be a bug so bad before, you laughed pitifully. You wrapped your arms around your legs and let the stray tears fall on your knees. You wanted to pout and blame your hysteria on Peter. He didn’t know it but he had an annoying habit of turning you into a child. 

You’re pretty when you cry, he said.

With your head on your knees, you bit your lip. You- you’re stupid.

I don’t think that’s what you say when someone gives you a compliment.

You’re making fun of me.

Am not, Bug, he said for the first time. 

With teary eyes, you looked for the truth on his face. His eyes softened. Without noticing, you licked your lips and you swore he did the same. It happened so fast you couldn’t remember and suddenly you were wondering if you leaned in, would he do the same? Before you could test your theory, there was a tap on your shoulder.

I think I just ate peanuts, Susie said.

What?

My throat is itchy.

Oh!

Luckily, little Susie was okay, but you weren’t. That night you couldn’t sleep. That look on his face stuck with you. If you were crazy, you would’ve thought that he wanted to kiss you. 

Still, you’re unsure.  

You open your mouth to ask him if he remembers that night, but he interrupts you.

 “I kind of miss them,” he says, head still in the dresser. 

“Your army of fanboys?”

“Yeah, if you want to call them that,” he laughs. 

“It was pretty sweet how they looked up to you.”

“Maybe, I should start a cult.”

You snort. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why do you hate me?” Peter looks back at you and tilts his head with a boyish smile that makes you look away.

He returns his attention to the drawers and you begin to get impatient.

“You know I don’t need anything special, right? I just need… A shirt.”

”Bug,” he says firmly. “When did you get so bratty?”

“I- You’re taking a long time,” you redden.

You tap your foot against the old wood and stare at the back of his head bobbing and searching. His hair is overgrown, longer than it was when you first met him. If you were brave enough, you would run your hands through it.

“If you think about it, we were basically paid to be cult leaders for eight weeks,” he says.

“Oh. We’re still talking about cults. Great.”

“How does one go about making a cult anyways?”

“Hold on, let me just look for a cult leader’s TED talk.”

“So sarcastic, Bug.” 

“Only for you, Bear,” you joke.  

“Good.”

Your ears turn hot and you’re licking your lips again. The raspiness in his voice feels all too serious. 

You’re silent again. It’s quiet enough you can hear the Earth past Peter’s search. Trees rustle. The wind caresses the grass. If you listen hard enough, you swear you can hear sunshine, but maybe it’s just the alcohol. Eventually another drawer shuts.

“Here,” he says. He finally turns around and stands up with a shy expression on his face that makes you smile. In his hand is a red and blue tie dye shirt he made in the early weeks of camp.

When you reach for it, you zone in on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, a silly little nothing that you made for him a week ago. You might as well have threaded the beads to say IHAVEACRUSHONYOU, but the nickname you called him was safer.

You partially regret the bracelet as the cringey gift screams elementary innocence, but now you had something of his. You were even.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you outside.”

“It’s fine,” you say before you can think. “I mean it’ll only take three seconds. You’ve seen me without a shirt before, hah.”

“Someone’s drunk,” he chuckles. 

You turn away before he can see you blush. “Not really…”

In one swift motion, you sling off the stained shirt and drape it along the end of his bed frame and pick up Peter’s replacement shirt.

“Oh, it’s healing nicely,” Peter says, surprised.

You look back in an attempt to look at the once opened wound on your back. “Thanks to you, I guess.”

Due to peer pressure from freshly graduated fourth graders, you had jumped off the cliff right into the lake and your back grazed against a submerged rock. It wasn’t anything serious. Barely deep enough for medical attention and the adrenaline from the jump turned you numb.

It was the first time he touched you, really touched you. A deliberate palm to your side rather than an unintentional graze of the knuckles. It made you think of other ways you could hurt yourself just so the two of you could play an innocent game of doctor.

I can’t just drink this by myself, you whined. 

I’m about to put a needle through you, you really want me to drink alcohol right now?

I trust you, you admitted unwillingly.

Once he stitched you up, you sat together side by side on his bed with your shirt still over your neck and your bathing suit now cold on your skin. He pressed his hand on your thigh, saying all better. It was enough to warm you up. Enough to make you forget why you never kissed him. Enough to make you want to.

He squeezed the fleshy part of your thigh, and you exhaled. Peter.

It’s Dr. Parker to you.

One moment you’re whispering, stupid, and the next your nose was grazing his with two parting lips just barely touching. His own breath matched yours. Cinnamon, and booze. Warm and wanting. You gently nudged your nose against his before you could come to.

With lips hovering and agape and adrenaline clouding your mind, you thought he was about to kiss you, for sure this time. But when Gwen knocked on the door, calling out to Peter, kissing was the last thing you wanted to do. The only option was to run away. Run back into that lake and sink all the way to the bottom.

When you throw the shirt on, the fabric grazes against the healing scar. The cotton is soft and weightless. You could immediately smell the familiar evergreen and pine. 

“Red and blue look good on you,” Peter says and you have to force yourself to not think anything of it. Friends compliment each other. No big deal.

“You should keep it,” he adds and then you’re thinking, okay, kind of a big deal. But you don’t have it in you to protest. If this was the only thing you could get from Peter, then you were happy. Almost satisfied.

“Alright,” you say and wear it like a promise ring.

By the time you two make it back to the lake, the sun is nearly set. The bonfire melts into the fire in the sky, a burnt orange streak floating above the lake. Smoke and char wafts in the air and you notice everyone huddled up in a circle. There’s beer bottles surrounding them like they were partaking in some kind of ritual. As you get closer, you see the single bottle laying on its side in the middle of the crowd. 

“What are they, twelve?” Peter whispers as Flash and Felicia kiss.

They don’t notice you two. They’re far too gone and enamored to see beyond themselves, and you’re grateful. Being the bystander looking in was better than watching Peter kiss someone else.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” he nudges.

You nod your head in silence and follow him like a lost puppy.

You two keep to the lakeshore and walk side by side until you can barely see the stray embers of the bonfire in the air. 

A mile away, you eventually reach the west pier. It’s unsoiled with beer and degeneracy, the moon purifying the fresh water and wood. The two of you sit on the dock, feet dangling in the chilling water. By the time the night completely glossed over, the alcohol had too.

“It’s so… Quiet,” you say and suddenly you fear your voice may disturb the stillness and ripple through the water. 

“I like it.”

“Just kind of eerie, ya know?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll scare the monsters away for you,” he teases.

Peter places one hand on your back and rubs small circles, a new type of warmth now rippling through you. 

Without realizing it, you began to mindlessly kick your feet through the lake, ripples after ripples reaching out to touch the earth beyond. The wrinkles of water pulsate. Your heart does the same with each circle of his hand.

“Should’ve got another beer before we left,” you eventually murmur.

“I’m not fun enough for you?”

I just don’t know what to do with myself.

“You’re less fun without your little cult,” you tell him. 

“I’m retiring,” he tells you.

“Oh, God forbid.”

“I’m tired,” he says. “Let me be tired.”

When he lays his head in your lap, you don’t move. You barely breathe.

You wish you could feel the calm, shudder and move on, exhale the hummingbird out of your chest, and be done with it. 

It’s heavier than you can manage. The ease and calm of him scares you. He makes a home in you so terribly easy, and you can barely touch him without feeling dizzy.

Peter sighs. “What am I going to do without you, Bug?”

You wish he didn’t say things like that.

You get out a shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you do know. Peter’s going to be okay without you. You’ll just be some girl he used to know and move on just fine. But you on the other hand? You don’t know. You don’t want to.

It aches.

I’m tired. Let me be tired, you beg the cruel universe.

It twinkles in response. Ripples right through you. 

Your hands are in his hair. You’re dizzy, but you do it anyway. There’s a soft moan coming from Peter so you play and pull and tug, letting all the anxiety leave your hands like kneading dough. You’re gentle because Peter is gentle. Rubbing your back. Stitching up a silly mistake. And even breaking your heart. He does it so gently, you don’t know if he has a cruel bone in his body. Even if he was cruel, you’re not sure if it would offend you.

He closes his eyes. You drag your nails against his temple and roam freely. The night sky reminds you of fireflies and popcorn. Slow breaths and wishes. You count the dimples on the moon. Little distractions to ground you, even now. 

The moment feels infinite. Almost infinite, like those almost kisses. So close, yet so fleeting. You stop trying to make it stay. You let it ripple through you.

You feel a little brave.

“Let’s go swimming,” he says, eyes closed. He can smell it on you— the braveness, you think.

Your hands freeze.“Now?”

“When else?”

“It’s cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm, Bug,” he says, this time with his brown eyes wide, open, and tempting. “Trust.”

He stands up and holds his hand out for you before you can protest. Whenever he mentions trust, it does something to you. The cut above your shoulder blade is trust scarred onto your body. Were you supposed to stray from your habits now? On the last day?

You open your mouth but then your hand is in his and he’s guiding you to the obsidian. 

He takes off his shirt and shorts, throwing them on the dock. You follow suit, and by the time you fold the tie dye shirt into a neat square, Peter’s already in, yelping, laughing, coaxing.

You shiver and when you’re in the water, you shiver some more. 

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“Is this your big plan to murder me? Drown me and run back to everyone else and play spin the bottle?” you grumble, less than satisfied.

“Duh,” he smiles proudly.

You’re treading water, feet barely reaching the sand, while Peter stands tall, the moon illuminating his handsome face.

“Why didn’t you wanna play spin the bottle?” you say impulsively. 

It shocks both you and Peter.

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

His brows knit together. “I don’t want to see you kissing someone else.”

Your brain short circuits. A laugh coils in your stomach and you want to ask if Ashton Kutcher is going to come out of the woods with his crew and yell, Gotcha! It makes more sense than what you think he’s implying. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

“What do you want it to mean?”

Your limbs suddenly burn from trying to stay afloat.

“Do you need me to show you, bug?” he says.

His hand is out in front of you again like a life raft. You let him take you, pull you in his gravity. Show me. You glide in the water until you can feel Peter’s breath on your face and your chest is heaving against his. Show me.

Peter wraps his arm around your lower back and your legs have nowhere else to go but wrapped around him. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Still need me to show you?”

 Show me. Show me. Show me.

“I think so,” you say so delicately you’re not so sure he hears you, but then his lips are on yours and the sun comes back in the dead of night, blooming in your ribcage.

It happens fast. He doesn’t let you hesitate, retreat back like the scared creature you are. He knows you. He kisses like he knows you. He keeps his promise. I’ll keep you warm. 

Soft, tender, and close to loving. His lips overlap yours and your gripping onto his back like this moment could dissolve in this lake. He grips you right back like you’ll run. You could. You might.

He deepens the kiss, more want, more need, less tenderness. He sucks on your bottom lip and the strength to run right out of you. 

Your hands wander feverishly. From his back to the crook of his neck and then his hair.

Now that he has you here like this, it makes things more difficult. 

You feel like a firefly. This small little thing of shine and glow, jutting around in a mason jar with Peter’s name sharpied on the top. 

His lips linger for a second longer and then he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“Bug,” Peter says.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to call me, right?”

His lips move in slow motion.

“Right,” you say.

[shadowqueenjude]

The most disturbing things portrayed in ACOTAR

Victim-blaming: Lucien tries to help Feyre and gets physically abused by Tamlin as a result. Feyre then proceeds to call him a dog despite Lucien doing everything he could in a difficult situation. And we're supposed to...support Feyre on this? And Rhysand throws around words like "can never forgive" man stfu you prick.

Sexual Assault: The most disturbing thing is not that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre. It's that he's never held accountable for this and never even apologizes at ANY point in the series. There are so many examples but this is the one that is the most disturbing.

Double Standards: We have Tamlin locking Feyre up for her own good being vilified, yet Rhysand is championed for locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses for their own good. Huh? WTF.

War Crimes: What Feyre did to the Spring Court, manipulating the sentries with the whole Ianthe thing and basically getting them killed, then weakening the Spring Court rulership which resulted in all those villagers in the Spring Court getting killed, then laying the Summer Court bare to Hybern as well, are nothing short of war crimes. And...instead of feeling regret, we have the main characters saying "Hybern's actions are their own." Like bitch what? Hybern wouldn't have been able to do shit if it wasn't for you! Have some damn accountability! And the fact that Tamlin and Tarquin are vilified for this never ceases to irk me.

Grooming: Rhysand groomed Feyre. He made excuses for everything he did with trauma, then sent Feyre out to do tasks for him like she's some kind of weapon he can use. WITHOUT giving her proper information, there is no choice. And everything he does is constantly explained away, until eventually Feyre becomes his trophy wife. Rhysand basically assigns Cassian to do the same for Nesta. I'm holding out hope that Elain will be saved from the Night Court.

The pregnancy debacle: the whole thing with the baby having wings and Rhysand withholding information from Feyre is just...disturbing. Idc if you're not telling her FoR hEr OwN gOoD, it is HER life at stake and she deserves to know. They didn't even try to shapeshift her to try and save her life? Like why is everybody seemingly more concerned about the baby than the mother? Disgusting. And why is Nesta vilified for being the only one to tell Feyre? She said it to hurt her, blah blah blah. She also wanted to show Feyre that their situations are similar. That they're BOTH being shit on by the Night Court. And when she's close to a breaking point...Nesta is forced to hike a mountain? That is physical abuse. Also, Rhysand being extremely territorial putting a shield over her and barely letting Feyre go anywhere is beyond weird.

Suicide baiting: What Rhysand did to Tamlin in ACOFAS is nothing short of suicide baiting. And...only Lucien seems to really be that concerned about it? Like...are you telling me I'm supposed to be supporting Rhysand after he basically told a depressed male to kill himself?

Segregation: Separating the Hewn City from Velaris IS segregation, no matter what excuse you try to come up with. You can't claim they're all shitty people, since your bestie Mor comes from the CoN. So, there are good people stuck in the CoN unable to get out of their torment because Rhysand decided that only certain individuals are allowed in Velaris.

Performance Feminism: Establishing laws to help women and not doing shit to enforce them is performance feminism. If he's as powerful as he says, he can 100% stop wing-cutting and r*pe. But, he's a goddamn virtue signaler so he doesn't fucking care. The thing is, SJM could've handled these topics in a much better way and it would've been fine. But she completely fucked shit up here and it's crazy that some people don't see it. Part of me is still waiting for the final book where she says, psych rhysand was the villain the whole time. If so, I'll take everything back.

[jungshookz]

yoongi's getting a lot of attention at the mall and y/n doesn't like it very much

➺ pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n

➺ genre; all of the usual demon!yoongi antics & a little more :-)

➺ wordcount; 1.8k

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

something is… off.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is off and you can quite literally feel it in the air

“do you think navy blue washes me out?” jungkook holds a shirt up to show you before pursing his lips, waving his hand in your face when he doesn’t get a response from you, “helloooo-“ you guys came to the mall today to do some shopping but for the last ten minutes you’ve been distracted by something which isn’t helpful to jungkook because he values your opinion when it comes to his style!

“you look great in navy blue and that’s a good shirt for summer, linen is a great material-“ you hold a finger up, turning your head slightly, “do you hear giggling?”

jungkook frowns, shaking his head slightly before looking in the same direction you are, “…no. i just hear generic pop music coming out of a set of shitty speakers- hey, do you think these stores play these songs on purpose so that you’ll shop faster and leave faster?”

“uh-huh, gimme a sec, kook-“ you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek before spinning around to face the exit, “where did you say yoongi went?”

“oh! he went to get some pretzel bites, i think.”

you weave in between the racks of clothes smoothly, your

your nose twitches as you pick up on the faint scent of yoongi’s cologne and cinnamon sugar (your favourite flavour for pretzel bites, of course) and you step out of the store, your eyes narrowing in suspicion when you spot yoongi heading in your direction

the black button-down he's got on hangs nicely on his frame and as he reaches up with his free hand to push his dark hair back, head tilting as a lopsided smirk makes its way onto his face when he spots you, “did you miss me so much that you had to come out and greet me? i was only gone for like ten minutes.”

you don’t respond, getting up on your tip toes to look over his shoulder only to notice that almost everyone is looking at yoongi, people pausing in the middle of what they’re doing to stare at him with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks

“what the hell…?” you don’t know how yoongi hasn’t noticed the fact that he has people drooling over him, and your face scrunches slightly when you see someone cross her legs and suck her bottom lip into her mouth as she stares at the back of yoongi’s head, “get a room-“

has it always been this bad???

how have you never noticed this???

maybe the reason why you never noticed all these things before is because you just had regular old human capabilities, but ever since you’ve been blessed (or cursed, however you want to see it) with some demonic abilities you’ve noticed a few things have changed about yourself: you can literally float (though, it only lasts a few seconds before gravity takes over), your eyes flicker black whenever you’re really upset, and all of your senses have heightened significantly — like today, you could hear the familiar purr of jungkook’s car from two miles away and he was more than surprised to see that he didn’t have to text you to get you and yoongi to come down like he usually does (you still haven’t broken the news to him that both you and yoongi are… not human, but you’ll get to it eventually)

“what’s wrong?” yoongi frowns, turning to glance over his shoulder, “what are you looking at?”

“people are… looking at you.” your jaw clenches slightly when another girl walks past the two of you, your ears picking up on the sound of blood rushing to her cheeks and her heart skipping a beat, “people are like- like, really looking at you.”

now, you’d like to clear things up and say that you’re not worried about yoongi running off to someone else because you know that yoongi loves you and also the two of you are literally bonded by blood or whatever — you know that yoongi is very attractive and most of the time you’re happy to walk around with him and have him admired by strangers but this is too much

this is like- well, to be honest, it looks like people are just about ready to pounce on yoongi at any given moment and now you feel like you need to defend him

in fact you’re pretty sure you heard someone growl at some point so now you’re wondering if the keys in your purse are going to work as a sufficient tool to ward people away

“of course they’re looking at me.” yoongi snorts, finding it amusing how flustered you’re starting to get, “they… i mean, not to toot my own horn here, baby, but i’m not lying when i say that everyone in this mall wants me to fuck the shit out of them, that’s kinda my whole thing, which, in my defense, you knew when we got together-" his eyebrows raise slightly when you whip your head back around to look at him, your eyebrows set in a glare as your eyes flicker black for a second

oh.

(he likes that.)

“well, i don’t like it.” you grumble, and yoongi knows you must be really upset because you haven’t attacked the cup of fresh pretzels he has in his hand and usually you’ve already popped like eight of them in your mouth

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. and you know i only have eyes for you, you’re being silly-” yoongi smiles, reaching down to pinch your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger to turn your head towards him, “hey, look at me- what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“what’s going on-“ you smack his hand away (yoongi’s demonic charm isn’t as strong now that you’re not entirely human) “is that i think we should buy whatever we need and then go home before everyone starts chasing after you-“

“you know, there is a way to offset the pheromones, or, whatever you wanna call it.” yoongi kisses his teeth, tossing a pretzel up into the air and catching it with his mouth as he chews thoughtfully, “i don’t evphen know what it is. my aura? i don’t know. whatehver demon thing is happening-“ he swallows, “i usually just have to fuck someone. then it takes like thirty minutes before the pheromones come back and everyone’s pining after me again.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you and the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he notices your throat bob as you swallow

“…that’s really the only solution?” you ask suspiciously, “because you got a paper cut last week and you said your body will heal itself faster if you go down on me, which i’m still struggling to see the connection-“

“well that was very obviously a lie, y/n, i just wanted to bury my face in between your legs and you were like, too busy writing a paper but it makes sense in this case, doesn’t it? get some good sex outta my system and people won’t pay as much attention to me because the tension inside of me has been released.”

“hm. i… guess you have a point. and you swear people will stop for a little while if you have sex?”

“pinky promise. but, you know, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want me bending you over in the dressing room. i know you like having privac-“ yoongi stops halfway through his sentence, his own eyebrows furrowing when he picks up on the fact that there’s a group of guys checking you out and almost instantly he feels jealousy swirling in his system

“-nice ass.”

he catches the end of a sentence and his eyes darken as he loops an arm around your waist and tugs you towards him, making direct eye contact with the group, “yeah, and you’re never gonna get your grimy fucking hands on it, you freaks-!” he calls out, and you don’t get much of a chance to say or do anything else before he’s dragging you down the opposite direction, setting the cup of pretzels down atop the garbage bin

“hey- where are we going?? jungkook’s still in the- okay, well, i don’t see why we had to abandon the pretzels, but fine-“

“what do you think? we’re finding a washroom and i’m fucking the shit out of you-"

“see, this is exactly what i was talking about!” you let out a laugh of disbelief at yoongi’s shift in mood as you let him drag you towards the washrooms, “and you had the gall to make fun of me for feeling some type of way about other people staring at you!”

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

(“oh, fuck- fuck me, fuck me-“ you whimper, head dipping as you grip onto both sides of the ceramic sink, your eyelids fluttering shut as yoongi slides a hand from your lower back up before grasping the back of your neck, shoving you downwards as he continues thrusting, very much enjoying the view of your ass bouncing off of him at this angle

“good girl- so fucking good for me, always so good-“ he growls, sweat glistening off his brow bone as he tangles his fingers in your hair, grabbing a fistful before yanking you back up to press your back against his chest, the back of your head slotting against the crook of his neck, “nuh-uh, i want you to watch me fuck you-“

your eyes immediately flicker down and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your cheeks flushed and lips slick and swollen and god you look hot-

“you- you swear this is gonna- gonna work-" your eyebrows crinkle together as you let out a particularly high moan when yoongi’s hand slides down in between your legs, the tips of his fingers pressing into your sensitive clit

“of course it’s gonna work, my girl.” he grunts, flashing you a boyish grin in the mirror, “don’t you trust me?”)

🎙️ ask y/n and yoongi if they had a good time (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!) 

[billskeis]

HEAR ME OUT…SURFER TOM X FEM. (Maybe they can do it on the beach…)

holy shit im hot n bothered

˖ ࣪ ⟢ beach boy tom

tom kaultiz who you met on summer vacation while out with your family that you were totally forced to go on. you’re not a beach person, but given the fact that they begged (and bribed) for you to come at least once in your lifetime, well, didn’t sound too bad at all. the salt air and cool breeze hit you and honestly, summer vacation didn’t look too shabby after all!

you sat on your beach towel under the umbrella as you watched your younger siblings play fight in the water, parents out to grab some more snacks from the local stand as you watched the bags. quickly, your eyes averted and begun ogling at the figure in the waves.

matt locs flow through the air as the water brushes past his body as if he were apart of it. surfing huh, it wasn’t your thing until today seeing those abs.

those washboard abs, you swear to god you can grate cheese on those fucking things.

they weren’t the most defined, but they were most definitely there. what also was there was the intense eye contact held between the two of you despite there being such a difference. and within a blink, the figure disappeared within the waves. as a couple seconds pass and you no longer see him in your peripherals, you pout, but quickly shrugged it off and decide to just move on.

time passes slowly as your parents finally return back with ice cream, yay! giving you a popsicle, you begin eating at the dessert, walking alongside the shoreline. your parents mentioned something about ‘getting with the locals’ pft, like that’s important for a summer vacation.

“hey,”

and you turn to face the figure calling out to you. he holds his surfboard under his arm as the latter rubs awkwardly at his neck. up close, you noticed his lip ring, amber eyes and the faint beauty mark on his left cheek. wow, he’s even hotter up close.

“oh. hi,”

he laughs at your awkwardness, as you stood there like a deer in headlights. to be completely honest, the eye contact shared wasn’t that big a deal to you, until seeing him a second time, even closer, now it was a big deal. “i noticed you earlier, thought you were cute.”

“you could see how cute i was from that far??”

“well, i mean—i could definitely tell you were cute. now i’m glad i got the chance to see you up close.. needless to say i’m not disappointed.” his cheeks were a little pink, cute.

“how, flattering.. y/n,”

“tom, you from here?”

and there you go on your needless babbling about how your only here for summer vacation. you weren’t even supposed to spend your summer in california. but here you are, hot summer california as you grind your cunt onto the abdomen of a man you just met. it didn’t take long for the two of you to take note of what one another wanted, tom guiding your hips as your clit ruts against his abs, biting your lips as pleasure bubbles in your core.

“you’re soaking me, princess.”

“oh please, d-don’t act like you’re not enjoying the view,”

“can’t say i am, but a pretty girl like you rubbing her sweet little cunt on these gorgeous abs? i’m fucking diggin’ it..”

a towel under the two of you as he leans on his surfboard that’s propped up against the tree. while ‘getting to know’ each other, tom lead you to a private area of the beach. curious, you wonder how and where he got the access to be in such a secluded area (but you didn’t need to know that this is the famous guitarist of a young and new band called tokio hotel).

nipping at your skin, tom kneads your ass behind his hands as he watches you fuck yourself on his pelvis, smearing your juices all over him. he finds you absolutely insatiable, tucking your hair behind your ears, tilting your chin down so he can place a kiss on your lips, tongue slipping in as you mangle with one another, tasting like fresh fruit.

breaking the kiss, he thumbs at your bottom lip, smirking, “think ya could help me out?” freeing his hard on from his trunks.

“holy shit you’re huge,” your eyes widen at not only the length but the girth, pinkish tip that twitches with anticipation, pre threatening to lean from it’s mushroom top, “i know, :).” you can’t help but scoff as he laughs jokingly.

now hovering your cunt over his cock, you lower your hips down as he slips in with ease. tom has to choke back a groan as his fingers dig into your hips. he could honestly cum right then and there. taking in every inch vein, your plush walls hug against his length, slowly but surely remembering the shape of his dick as you whine from the pleasure, “t-tom..”

“s’okay i got you baby, need help?”

with an eager nod from you, he plants a kiss to your cheek as he lifts your ass up, dragging your cunt allllll the way to the tip of his cock, harshly slamming your hips back down onto his lap. with a loud ‘thwop!’ he hits dead on into your cervix, leaving you to see stars as your legs tremble, cunt tightening against him, “mmmphf~!”

“f-fuckkkkk.. you like that don’cha?”

he forces you to ride him as he lifts you up and down his length, sliding your body to a rhythm he likes, but one that also you enjoy, clit occasionally hitting his pelvic bone.

“tommmm~ i—i might—”

a low grunt escapes tom’s lips as he observes your body, stomach beginning to clench as you also begin to mindlessly ride tom without his assistance. it’s wet and sticky between the two of you, nothing but a little swimming could clean off!

“that’s it.. ride me baby.. you feel amazing, ‘m cumming soon, shit.. don’want it to end..” tom now toying at your clit, helping you reach your climax. he mutters words under his breath, not being able to hear him over how your cunt flutters against his shaft, legs shaking as the knot in your stomach finally snapping, and all that you could see now is white.

“fuckfuckfuck..!” falling from tom’s lips as the way your pussy clenches against him wrings his cum out dry, also reaching his orgasm. fucking his hips in deeper as he cums, his tip assaulting your cervix threatening to put a baby in you, thank god for birth control amiright? don’t know when you’ll need it if your on vacation with your family.. amiright?

as you both ride out your highs, deep breaths shared between each other. “you okay?” he asks, fixing the straps of your bikini to sit properly on your shoulder once more. sweat glistening off his body as you watch his chest rise up and down.

staring a little harder, you notice the sun freckles that decorate his face. your eyes quickly catch onto his pink soft lips, you catch his lip piercing in a kiss, deepening it as you wrap your arms around his neck, bodies sharing even more heat through the warm summer weather.

“so, will i ever see you again?”

“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily princess, i better see you at the beach everyday that you’re here.“

as you playfully punch at his arm, you lay your head in the crook of his neck, raising your head up to kiss his face, smooching him again, you thank tom for being able to make your summer vacation worthwhile.

2008 tom kaulitz gives summer fling type shit and then you’ll never see him again except he’s totally obsessed with you and is already booking a ticket to your home town to live w u permanently :33

guys am i eating rn (in my flop arc)

[marigold-hills]

@wolfstarmicrofic | August 25th: win | 1000 words

CW: attempted mugging, mentions of broken bones

Remus Lupin is well aware what he looks like: the wrong side of lanky, with a nasty scar across his face from falling off a bike at five, and a nastier one down his sternum from heart surgery at fifteen. Weak knees, weaker ankles. Breakable wrists. He surrounds himself in soft things, wears sweaters and cardigans even in the summer, when his varied blood deficiencies keep him cold in the heat.

He doesn’t usually go out in the dark. His library desk job keeps his work hours to a respectable 9-to-5, and he’s not one for bars, or clubs, or any other sort of entertainment that would require him to be out in the evening.

Today? Well, there was a book signing at the library. It run late, and he was having a nice chat with the writer, managing to keep his fan-boying to a minimum (it was the James Potter, after all). There was wine, which he doesn’t usually partake in. So: it’s well past his work hours, he’s pleasantly buzzed and on a high from a successful social interaction. Then he sees him.

It’s probably the most beautiful human specimen Remus’ has ever seen. He was stunning in the library, where he accompanied the James Potter for the signing, and he is just as lovely now, in the dim unflattering streetlamps. The hair, the bone structure, the shoulders. Everything about him made Remus decide not to say a single word to him, only gape half-open-mouthed and watch from across the room.

(Doing it now, as he as good as follows him down darkened South London streets, feels roughly stalkerish. Again, Remus knows what he looks like. He’s got too big ears and slightly too big front teeth and definitely too big a nose. He wouldn’t even try to talk to someone like this, not for all the embarrassment in the world.)

Remus is slower, especially with the crutch he has had to use since he broke his ankle a month earlier. His foot is still in the awkward boot-cuff. There should be no way of him catching up, so no chance of an interaction, successful or, more likely, otherwise.

Out of the shadows, appears a figure. Hooded, wide-shouldered, knife-wielding. The beautiful friend of James Potter doesn’t notice until the man is almost on him, knife pointed at the Nirvana logo on his T-shirt.

Remus can’t hear what’s said, but he doesn’t really need to. He’s lived in South London all his life, from Lambeth to Peckham - he’s seen his fair share of muggings.

Something comes over him. Maybe the late hour, maybe the wine. Maybe the impossible wrongness of a man so pretty being in such a situation. Whatever it is, before he even thinks about it, he’s somehow caught up.

Next thing he knows, he’s behind the mugger.

Next thing after that, the heavy, metal leg of his crutch makes heavy, violent contact with the side of the mugger’s head.

He falls to the ground in a heap of limbs and dark fabric and dropped knifes and for a terrible second Remus thinks:

“Fuck. I think I killed him.”

Through the wine-haze or adrenaline-haze, or maybe your-dodgy-heart-finally-gave-in-haze, he realises he said it out loud.

The pretty man leans down and checks the muggers head, then his pulse. “He’s fine. Well. He’s probably concussed. That was a mean hit,” he looks at Remus with something like appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Remus. Lucky you were here, or he’d have probably made off with my phone.”

“You know my name?” Remus asks rather dumbly. The answer is obvious and self evident because the man just said it.

“Of course I do. I’ve been watching you all night,” the cheekiest smile Remus has ever seen. The man prods the prone mugger with the tip of his shoe. “Who knew it’d take something like this to actually get you to talk to me.”

“Huh,” Remus says. (He has a degree in literature, he should really be able to string a sentence together with some intelligence, but apparently it has abandoned him.)

“Should probably call an ambulance.”

And that brings Remus out of his stupor. “You’re hurt?” He just stops himself from checking the man over, hands itching to reach out and feel for the damage.

“For this one. Can’t really leave him just lying on the side of the road.”

“Oh. Right, of course.”

“And they’ll probably arrest him, while they’re at it. Win-win.”

“Silver linings.”

The man – Remus doesn’t know his name – laughs at that. It’s oddly dog like and on another person it’d be too much, too loud, but on him? Perfection. Remus wants to ask to record it. Maybe playing it in the evenings will cure his insomnia.

Adrenaline wearing off, Remus realises that his broken ankle hurts way more than it should. More than it has for a while. The same amount as…

“I’ve re-broken my ankle,” he doesn’t mean to blurt out loud. There’s immediate concern in the man’s face. Remus half-sits half-slumps down to the pavement. “Yup. I’m pretty sure I’ve re-broken my ankle. Fantastic.”

That’s what he gets for chasing down would-be-muggers down the streets of London. It’s probably some cosmic price to pay for hearing that laugh. It must be delirium: Remus thinks it’s worth it.

There are gentle hands on the side of his face, guiding it upward, and gentle eyes full on sincerity. “Thank you for helping me,” the man says again, “let’s get you to the hospital, alright?”

Through the pain-haze or wine-buzz-haze or maybe you-just-assaulted-someone-haze, Remus becomes shameless. “Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” the man says and the way he looks at Remus? Like he doesn’t have too-big ears and too-big a nose, or the scar, or the hair he can never get to behave.

Remus, more than shameless: “forever, then.”

The laugh he gets in return is somehow even better. There is nothing mocking about it. Instead, agreeable. “Alright. Forever.”

NOTES:

does this count as a meet-cute?

[querenciasturniolo]

never really over ⮕ m.s.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, angst, mention of a breakup, crying, self doubt

summary: „thought we kissed goodbye, thought we meant this time, was the last, but i guess it’s never really over”

a/n: this song played at work the other day and i started daydreaming, so here’s this LMAOOO. this song SCREAMS summer and lemme tell you, i’m so fucking sick of winter. also the picture of matt gives me heart palpitations, so enjoy.

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

You knew coming home this summer was a stupid idea. Standing across the bonfire, staring directly into the dimly illuminated face you hadn’t seen in person in two years, you felt as though there was a pull screaming at you to move towards him. He hadn’t seen you yet, he was too busy laughing quietly at his brothers and a friend of his you weren’t particularly close with when the two of you were together. You, on the other hand, haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him since you’d gotten to the party half an hour ago. It felt surreal, being in his space again after so long. It felt as though it was just yesterday you had your arms wrapped around him, your tears soaking the front of his shirt as he comforted you for the last time.

It seemed the only thing you and Matt were good at was breaking up, since it happened more often than not. Every other week you would decide that you didn’t deserve Matt and the two of you would call it quits. Then, a few days later, he’d show up at your door. He wouldn’t leave until the cycle repeated itself, but you knew he’d be back. You guys were never really over, after all.

You thought the last time you two said goodbye truly was the last time, considering you were going off to college and he was staying with his brothers to continue their YouTube career. You always knew he’d make it. Matt and his brother’s were the most genuine people you’d ever met, and it always transferred over into their videos. You watched them periodically while you were away at college, when missing him hurt so bad that you knew if you didn’t alleviate it somehow, you’d call him, and you couldn’t do that to him. The two of you promised each other that the last time was the last time, to keep the both of you from hurting each other. But seeing him only thirty feet away from you had your skin crawling in a familiar way you hadn’t felt in years.

“Who are you staring at?”

You jumped and whipped your head to the side, sighing and shaking your head when you met Nate’s eyes.

“Nothing, Nate. No one.” You said, clearing your throat and not letting your stare flicker back to Matt. You watched in horror as Nate’s eyebrows furrowed and he tracked your previous gaze until realization spread across his face.

“Matt, huh?” He asked, his voice casual as he slowly met your eyes. You hated the look on his face. It was almost as if he pitied you and your pathetic staring, which you couldn’t blame him. You scoffed and shook your head.

“No, I’m clearly staring at Dylan. What do you think?” You asked sarcastically, running a hand over your face to try and hide your embarrassment. You knew he meant well, but everyone always meant well, and they made you feel insane. They all had the same silent question; why couldn’t you just let him go? It’s been two fucking years, why did looking at him now feel the same as it did then? Your chest ached with how hard your heart was pumping against your ribcage. Goosebumps stayed prominent on every inch of your body just knowing he was so close to you. “I’m sorry, Nate. That was rude.” You said softly, moving your hand and sighing into the cool evening air.

Nate didn’t seem to take it to heart, he never really did. He was there for the entirety of your relationship with Matt, and unfortunately, he was one of the only few people who witnessed the aftermath. He’d answer your midnight texts, and when you were in town during breaks that first year of college, he’d pick you up from your house at three in the morning just for the two of you to drive around and blast music to keep your mind from racing.

“It’s been hard for him too.” He said, which was not at all what you were expecting him to say. You met his eyes with furrowed brows, though not a single one of his tells was showing. It was still hard to believe, considering how much of a mess you were when you went off to college and Matt moved to LA. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you processed what he said, your heart telling you he’s genuine, but your mind telling you he’s just trying to make you feel better.

“What makes you say that?” You asked, your voice almost breathless as Nate scoffed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe the fact that I’ve known the kid for forever and we talk every single day.” He stated, your features dropping into a blank stare as he shook his head and glanced back over in Matt’s direction. You couldn’t bring yourself to look that way again, otherwise you’d be walking towards him immediately. “You’re allowed to talk to him, you know?” He said after a short while, meeting your eyes again with a soft smile. You knew he meant well, and you knew he was right, but the thought of walking over to Matt and him not wanting to talk to you had you shaking your head fervently.

“I know I can, but I also can’t. Besides, he doesn’t want to talk to me.” You said, your eyes flickering over in Matt’s direction once more. He was gone from his spot, Nick and Chris and the friend you couldn’t think of were still talking away as you furrowed your brows.

“Who doesn’t want to talk to you?”

You froze in place, your chest warming and your body relaxing the moment his voice washed over you completely. When you turned around, it felt as though a swarm of butterflies were flying behind your ribcage and hitting every single corner and bouncing off. There was no doubt in your mind he could hear it, no matter how impossible that seemed. Your eyes met the familiar cool blue, and you were back in every single moment you’d spent with him. He was smiling the same smile he always gave you, his eyes crinkling slightly as they flickered over your more than likely shocked face.

“How have you been?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours once more as you fought your useless brain to say something—anything to him.

“I’ve been alright.” You finally said, your heart hammering in your chest as your own lips stretched into a smile against your will. You couldn’t help it, he always had that effect on you. “What about you?”

Matt sighed through his nose, his shoulders dropping a few centimeters as the two of you began to fully relax again in each other’s presence. “I’ve been okay.” He said breathily, his eyebrows twitching inward as he studied you. “Were you talking about me to Nate?” He asked, the slightest hint of teasing in his voice. You snickered and shook your head, dropping your eyes to the grass below you.

“You were listening?” You teased back, lifting your head again. You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you studied his shirt. It was a simple flannel, similar to the one most of the guys at the bonfire were wearing to keep warm on this chilly Boston night. He grinned and nodded his head, dropping his eyes to his shoes right as you felt brave enough to look at him.

“Can you blame me?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours once more through his eyelashes. Your breath caught in your throat. That familiar pull was working against you without you realizing it, the space between the two of you had dwindled enough that you could feel the heat from his body, you could see the push and pull of his breaths and the rise and fall of his chest. Fuck, you missed him.

“How’s Los Angeles?” You asked dumbly, wanting to smack yourself as he inhaled softly and shrugged.

“Warm, sunny, crazy.” He mumbled. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, and it was driving you nuts. Two years ago you’d be able to tell what he was thinking just by the way he breathed, but you were out of practice. “How’s college?” He countered. You shrugged in return, a playful smile forming on your lips.

“Stressful, expensive, exhausting.” You said. Matt rolled his eyes and shook his head. His eyes were nothing but fond as they scanned over your face slowly. A million thoughts were racing through your mind at once, but all you could do was keep looking at him like it was the last time you ever would.

The two of you were silent for only a few heartbeats, the both of you just basking in the other’s presence for the first time since that last goodbye. He was the first to speak, and it took everything in you not to fall into his arms at the warmth and sincerity in his voice.

“I missed you.” His voice was only a few decibels above a whisper, but those three words were screaming in your mind the moment they left his mouth. You weren’t the only one wanting, yearning, wishing, hoping, praying, waiting. He missed you. He missed you. Your composure crumbled slightly, and you couldn’t help but smile sadly at him.

“Fuck.” You whispered, running your hands over your face and closing your eyes. “I missed you, too.” You said. Before you could open your eyes, you were pulled into his arms and against his chest. You couldn’t believe you were worried about the beating of your own heart as you listened to the rapid thumping of his against your ear. Like it was second nature, you wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your toes to fully embrace him like you used to. Your face rested in the crook of his neck, the skin warm against the chilled tip of your nose.

He felt the same—the same warm chest and tight arms making you feel safe, the same familiar scent of vanilla bourbon soap and laundry detergent with the smallest hint of campfire, the same gentle movement of his thumb lightly caressing your back. You relaxed completely against him, his grip on you the only thing keeping you from sliding down his body and laying limp in the grass. He was so familiar, so comfortable, so fucking safe that you never wanted your embrace to end.

“Matty?” You asked, a shiver running down his spine when the warm breath from your lips puffed against his skin. He hummed in reply, swaying softly with you to the quiet music playing from someone’s car speakers. “This is gonna fuck everything up for us, isn’t it?” He didn’t pull away from you, like you expected. He didn’t stiffen either, which was odd. His lips pressed lightly against the top of your head, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you somehow relaxed further.

“I don’t care.” He whispered. You pulled back to meet his eyes, your pulse deafening in your ears as you searched for anything on his face that wasn’t sincere. Matt never broke eye contact with you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’m being serious. These last two years have fucking sucked, and I don’t care if we fuck it up because I missed you. Can we forget about saying goodbye, just tonight?” He asked. He sounded almost breathless, begging you for just one night together like old times.

Before you could say anything, his eyes were flickering to your lips and he was leaning in. You gasped lightly, his lips barely brushing against yours as your eyes fluttered closed. Warmth completely enveloped you the moment you tightened your arms around his neck and closed the space between the two of you, the cool summer night completely forgotten as your fingers tangled in his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp.

You’d forgotten what it was like to kiss him, you’d forgotten how he’d hold the back of your neck with one hand and grip your waist with the other like his life depended on it, no matter how gentle the kiss was. It drove you wild every time, your body feeling like it was on fire as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. His kiss was gentle, soft, full of passion and yearning, yet rough, hard and full of tension and desperation. You could feel the pain he’d felt the last two years with each soft brush of his tongue against yours, and it took everything in you not to break down in tears mid kiss. Your Matty was back, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to let him go again, even though you knew you had to.

When the two of you pulled a part for air, you couldn’t help but stare up at him with soft, gasping breaths leaving your lips. Matt’s eyes remained closed, his eyebrows furrowed tightly. He looked…miserable, and you hated it. You untangled your hands from his hair, one of your palms resting against his chest while your other hand reached up and cupped his cheek softly. Your thumb caressed the crease between his eyebrows until he relaxed, finally opening his eyes to meet yours. Every single bit of anguish you’d felt for the last two years was written all over his face. It was etched into the lines by his eyes, the twitching corners of his mouth, and it was glimmering in the cool blue of his iris’. He was in as much pain as you’d been in, and it made you want to scream.

“Did you stop loving me?” Matt asked, his voice thick and raspy. You inhaled sharply, your own brows furrowing.

“Matty, I—”

“Just.” He interrupted, exhaling deeply through his nose and looking into the flames of the fire rippling a few feet to your left. “Just answer the question, please.” He didn’t return his gaze to yours, no matter how badly you wanted him to look into your eyes and see the answer screaming out at him from your heart. You fish-mouthed for a few seconds before taking a deep, shaky breath and closing your eyes.

“I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I stopped loving you.” You said, Matt’s gaze finally returning to yours. You smiled brokenly, letting your eyes well with the hot tears you’d been fighting since seeing him and his brothers the second you looked across the fire. Your hands clenched into fists in his flannel, your body desperate for him to stay close to you. “Loving you…fuck, loving you was the best thing I’ve ever done, even if it went up in flames. It made every argument, every bad day, every break up and reconnection worth it. I didn’t think it was possible, and I thought I was doing so well getting over you, but I love you just as much as I did the day we broke up for the last time. And it’s okay if you stopped loving me completely, because I can understand how you could.” You whispered the last few words, closing your eyes and letting the depth of your words fall over the two of you. You dropped your head, sniffling to yourself and trying to pull yourself together before you made a mess of things again.

Matt’s fingers lightly gripping your chin had a shaky exhale leaving your lips as he lifted your head. Your eyelids fluttered open, the tip of his nose almost touching yours with how close the two of you still were. His tongue peaked out to wet his lips and he opened his mouth to speak as his grip moved from your chin to his hand cupping your jaw and holding it firmly.

“The one thing I didn’t miss was the lack of faith you had in yourself being loveable.” He said clearly, firmly, matter-of-factly. He’d told you a million times before that there was absolutely no reason for him not to love you, but you never stopped looking for that one reason to present to him. “I have loved you so completely, so wholly, so entirely since the day I met you, and the day we said goodbye. You were and are the last person I think of when I fall asleep, and the first person I think of when I wake up in the morning. For so long, you were the only person I wanted to be around, and the only person I knew that I couldn’t live without.” He said, your eyes wide as you stared up at his smug face with a slack jaw.

“The fact that I came back each and every time you looked me in my face and tore my heart out of my chest, still wanting and needing to be a part of you and your life should show how much I loved and still love you. If you can’t see how deep my love for you is, then I truly don’t know what we were doing in the first place.” He finished, the tears that had welled in your eyes had begun to fall, Matt smiling softly down at you as his thumb tenderly swiped the tears away. “Don’t cry, baby. I was only telling you the truth. I’m just glad that it seems now you finally choose to believe it.”

You sniffled and shook your head up at him, not understanding how only a short time ago you were staring at him from across a bonfire, absolutely petrified of him seeing you and not being interested enough to even wave, and here you were. You were standing in his arms, only a few feet away from the fire, listening to him tell you that all of your sleepless nights full of tossing and turning, overthinking, watching him and his brothers’ videos on YouTube for some semblance of normalcy, he was missing you and loving you just as much as you were him. You couldn’t help but smile up at him and pull him closer to you, wrapping him in the tightest hug you could manage. You wanted it to feel the way his words made you feel, warm and safe and protected and loved. So fucking loved that you could hardly stand it.

“What does this mean, Matty?” You whispered against his shoulder. He sighed into your hair, his grip around your waist tightening as he shook his head.

“Just enjoy the moment, baby. We’ll talk about that later.” He mumbled, pulling away from the hug to press a kiss to your forehead, cheek, and then pressing his lips firmly to yours. It was only a firm peck, and he pulled away. “Watch the fireworks with me?” He asked. You nodded your head and turned around, letting him press himself against your back and wrap his arms around you like he’d done a million times before. His chin rested against your shoulder, and you leaned your head slightly to the side to rest your temple against his as the first firework shot into the sky. Each and every breath you took, you breathed him in, not wanting this moment to end.

It was possible that by the end of the night, the two of you would go your separate ways and leave one another again for an indefinite amount of time, or maybe even continue your cycle from two years ago. But it was also possible that the two of you would start something new, maybe change the cycle and make sure it wasn’t repeated again. You had a feeling it was one of the latter two options.

After all, you two were never really over.

tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @ev3rgreenxtrees , @reveriewave , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @champangekisses , @floofparker

[lnfours]

you are in love | l.n

summary: the moment where you knew he was the one.

warnings: best friends to lovers au, shitty dates, language, a little bit of innuendos, and just pure, tooth rotting fluff.

masterlist | inbox | listen

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you walked out of the restaurant, nails tapping against your screen as you walked on the sidewalk. there was a soft, warm breeze in the city of monaco as you stared down at your phone. your phone locked once you found somewhere to stand, out of the sight from the crowds, and specifically the guy you had left at the dinner table.

can you come get me?

it was almost ten. and if he wasn’t asleep, he was definitely doing better things with his time-

of course, where are you?

your heart pattered against your chest, your fingers moving to tell him the name of the street corner you were standing at. he had responded quickly after, saying he’d be there in five.

and he was, the mclaren pulling up besides you. he had the top open for the nighttime summer breeze to flow through. you stepped closer, opening the door and climbing in carefully before closing it behind you.

“you alright?” he asked, car still parked as he made sure he didn’t have to go back into the restaurant and give the guy a piece of his mind.

when you nodded, he let out a breath of relief, “i just really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

he huffed out a laugh, pulling onto the road, “we could say that,” he looked back over at you as you looked out the window, “back to mine? or yours?”

you met those stupidly beautiful green eyes and you let out a shaky breath as his eyes scanned your features, “yours is fine. blair is out of town anyway, so it’s been lonely.”

“oh, yeah? where she go this time? ibiza? france?” he joked and you snorted next to him. your roommate, blair, came from money. big money. and every other weekend, she always had somewhere new to take her father’s private jet. even if it was just to visit a louis vuitton store in paris.

her frequent trips had become an inside joke to you, max and lando. so far as to where the three of you make bets on which extravagant place shes visiting every time she leaves. this week, it’s bali.

“close,” you nod, “her family’s vacationing in bali this week.”

“damn,” he mumbled, “so close.”

you both shared a soft laugh, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you as you watched the city life out the window. he couldn’t help but take occasional glances towards you, his eyes falling to the necklace sparkling around your neck.

the one he had gotten you for your most recent birthday. you had refused to accept his gift at first, immediately shaking your head when you spotted the tiffany blue box underneath the wrapping paper.

but he insisted, and now you never took it off. a silver heart engraved with a little four. a subtle detail, but a special one. some people thought he seemed ‘full of himself’ because he got you a gift with his number on it. but, you were the one who encouraged him to chase his dreams. the one who pushed him to do better, the one who never believed for a second how the media tried to paint him out to be.

because, to you, he wasn’t ’lando norris: mclaren formula one driver with a sassy attitude who’s full of himself’, to you he was just ‘lando: the boy you’ve known your entire life, who knew everything about you, and the boy who would pick you up after a shitty date’.

at the end of the day, it was always the two of you against anything and everything. two peas in a pod, as cisca would say.

the two of you got to his apartment, his key unlocking the door and pushing it open. once you got inside, you kicked your heels off by the door as he made his way into the kitchen.

“do you still have those makeup wipes i left here?” you asked.

he nodded, reaching into one of the cupboards as he grabbed the white mug with little yellow stars on it. your mug.

“should be in the top drawer in the bathroom with your toothbrush and hairbrush,” he said, turning back to you, “want a coffee?”

you nodded, letting out a soft sigh, “please. milk and two-“

“two sugars,” he smiled softly, “i know.”

you smiled back at him before turning and walking down the hallway to his bedroom. when you entered, you took in the view of his freshly made bed and the hamper in the corner being empty. a sign that he had done his laundry and cleaned the house today.

you hummed softly, opening the closet door and thumbing through the different hoodies he had. you settled on an older mclaren one, the same one he had lent you a few years back when you were crying on his couch.

you also snagged a pair of sweatpants while you were in there, changing into them and placing your dress on his dresser. making a mental note to take it with you when he takes you home in the morning.

once you had taken your makeup off in the bathroom, you made your way back to the living room where he was sitting on the couch, phone in hand as he held his mug. you sat next to him, your mug on the table next to you. you took it into your hands, smiling over the rim.

“thank you,” you said.

“‘course,” he smiled, locking his phone and picking up the remote, “what episode were we on before we fell asleep the other night? i don’t remember,”

you looked over at the tv in front of you, now noticing he had the show the two of you had been watching pulled up. you twisted your lips in thought.

“uhm, i think six? maybe seven?” you said, he clicked on six and after a few seconds you realized the two of you had guessed correctly.

at some point during the show, your head had ended up on his shoulder. his arm had pulled you closer into him, taking in the smell of his cologne and the shampoo he used. a scent you had grown to love, to look forward to every time he wrapped his arms around you to give you a hug, or whenever you were close enough to him to pick up on it.

at some point you had zoned out, thinking to yourself. maybe the reason all these dates hadn’t worked out was because they all lacked something. something no one else had other than lando, the boy who knew you like the back of his hand.

you shifted, moving to look at the boy with curly brown hair, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the tv. you took in the beauty marks that freckled his face, the ones he used to complain about when he was younger, but you always said it was your favorite thing.

maybe it wasn’t the fact that lando knew you like the back of your hand that turned you away from all the other men who’d swipe right on you. maybe it was the fact that they weren’t him.

you didn’t know when, but somehow you had fallen in love with the boy next to you. i mean, who could blame you? he was everything you could ever dream of, the perfect man.

he turned and met your eyes, his face inches from yours now. you smiled softly, his lips turning up in return. his eyes scanned yours and you took in a nervous breath when his eyes traveled to your lips.

“i’m sorry that date didn’t work out for you,” he said softly, “these guys really don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

you shrugged, “it’s okay,” your heart was hammering against your chest, questioning silently to yourself if he could hear it.

he couldn’t, but he could tell when he scanned your face that you didn’t really seem all that upset. he wasn’t really sorry, either, to be fair. it might’ve seemed selfish, but he always anticipated your ‘can you come get me?’ texts whenever he knew you were going out. he prayed the dates would fail, so he could finally be the one to take you out and do it properly. give you that fairytale kind of love you deserve.

he blurted out before his mind could even filter it, “can i tell you something?”

you hummed. fuck, there was no going back now.

“i’m kind of glad those dates haven’t worked out.”

you furrowed your eyebrows in question, “why’s that?”

“because i want to be the one to take you out,” his voice was soft and it sent your heart right into your throat, “all the fancy dinners, the kissing goodnight at the doorstep, all of it.”

his eyes traveled back to your lips and you sucked in a breath, “can i tell you something too?”

he nodded, his face centimeters away from yours now. your warm breath fanned his face, the smell of your perfume and the hair product you had put in hours beforehand captivating him.

“i want all of that with you, too.” you smiled and he grinned back, a soft laugh leaving both of your lips. he reached up, his hand lifting your chin.

“you sure you want to be stuck with me?” he asked, “cause once i start, i don’t think i could stop.”

your nose brushed against his, “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

that was all it took until his lips were pressing against yours. you kissed him back, the hand that wasn’t holding your jaw reaching to your hip and pulling you closer, leaving no room between you as you climbed into his lap.

your hands threaded through the curls on the nape of his neck, his arms wrapping around you. a moment of complete bliss, the moment you’ve been waiting for for what felt like ages.

“lets go to bed, yeah?”

you nodded back, nose bumping his as your face wore a smile. he stood from the couch, hands supporting your thighs before letting your legs wrap around his torso. he carried you down the hallway, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

he placed you down on the mattress, the two of you entangling limbs underneath the sheets. he played with the soft strands of your hair, his lips pressing against the top of your head as you listened to his heart beat against his ribs. existing in complete contentment with each others company.

“breakfast in the morning?” he asked softly.

you thought about it for a minute, turning to look at him. it was dark, but you could still make out his face, “sure, just as long as you don’t burn the toast.”

[holylulusworld]

Darkness and Sunshine (3)

Summary: Bucky hurt you deeply. Can he make amends?

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

Warnings: angst, hurt reader, BBF trope, attentively Bucky, flirting, fluff

Catch up here: Darkness and Sunshine (2)

Bucky refused to let go of your hand. Even when you entered the black SUV, driven by one of his men, he didn’t want to let go. It was a struggle to explain to him that it was not possible to enter the car while holding hands. Maybe if you’re bendable like an acrobat.

“The park is nice in late summer,” he says while walking next to you. It seems like Bucky is unsure what to do next. “I’ve never been for a walk. Not since I was a kid.”

“You haven’t been to the park since you were a kid?” You stop walking to look at Bucky. “Why? I mean, the park is not even far away from your office. You could go for a walk to have a break and enjoy the sun and fresh air. Is there a reason why you don’t go for a walk or spend time with normal people?”

“Normal people?” He furrows his brows. “What do you mean by normal people?”

“You know,” you shrug, “people not involved in your business.” He blanches at your words. Bucky believed you don’t know a thing about his business and that he’s a criminal. “What? Did you believe I’m blind when it comes to your business?”

“If you knew the whole time, then...” He swallows thickly. “Why did you like me? You’re a good person and a ray of sunshine. I’m not only a grumpy man, but I’m also a dangerous and criminal one.”

“Not to me,” you softly reply, giving Bucky the smile he loves so much. “I never cared what you do for a living. You were always good to me and my brother. Never judge a book by its cover, Bucky. Only because you play the tough guy for business doesn’t mean you can’t be sweet with someone.”

“Sweet, huh?” Bucky smirks to himself. “You think I can be sweet to someone?”

You drop your eyes, and your smile fades. “Someone who isn’t me, though. Maybe, one day, you’ll make someone happy.”

“Y/N,” Bucky sighs and drops your hand to cup your face. “I know you’re still hurt because of all the stupid things I said, but when I imagine getting happy with a woman, it’s with you.”

“Why did you do it then?” You sniffle. “And don’t give me that crap about keeping me safe and not wanting to hurt me. Because what you did hurt me a thousand times more than your job or behavior ever could.”

“Doll, I—” Bucky bites his tongue. Apologizing again won’t fix what he broke that night. He not only broke your trust in him, but your heart too. He’ll never forgive himself for hurting you. That’s the last thing he wanted to do. “Most of the time I’m a grump. My soul is as black as the coffee I drink. You’d never get lucky with me by your side.”

“Still, you wanted me to go on a date with you,” you roll your eyes. “Bucky, what are we doing here? You believe that you cannot make me happy but want me at the same time. This doesn’t make sense at all. You’re confusing me. Why can’t you tell me what you want?”

“I want that beautiful smile to be mine only,” he leans closer to brush his lips over yours. “That smile makes my heart flutter because you give it to me whenever you look my way.”

“It was yours before you took it away from me,” your voice cracks when you look him in the eyes.

“Doll, I want you to bring sunshine into my dark life. Maybe you can light it up, so I won’t be too dark for you to bloom.”

You snicker.

Bucky furrows his brows.

“What?” He asks.

“You’re so mature and serious all the time, and then you say something like that,” you giggle, and fist his jacket. “Why don’t you tell me that you want in a much better way?”

“A better way?” He whispers against your lips. “How?”

“Like that,” you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss Bucky before he can chicken out. He hums against your lips and wraps his arms tightly around you. Bucky deepens the kiss, putting all his feelings into this one kiss.

He only parts from you to get some air. Bucky smirks when you gasp for air. “Not that bad,” you comment. “But we should practice more often to be sure you’re a good kisser.”

Tags in reblog.

[robinsno1lesbian]

brothersbestfriend!Robin who fucks reader everytime she's over the house. Once reader's brother is practically blackout drunk or tired, she goes over to reader's room and has her fun with reader 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

(I don't even have a brother, nor do i know where this came from. But obviously I felt like ur inbox is the most suitable for this one)

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⋆˙⟡

-r.b. x reader

summary: the title is pretty self explanatory but here’s my take on having somewhat of a summer romance with your brother’s handsome best friend (robin buckley, duh?)

warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), vaginal fingering, oral sex, strap-ons, semi-public sex, light spanking, orgasm denial, nipple play, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl, my girl, princess), maybe the slightest bit of humiliation if you squint, let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: thank you @aylasology for requesting this and for helping me with the creation of these headcanons!! as always, find my summer fic masterlist here!

⟡ your brother’s best friend who always wears a strap beneath her pants when she comes over (to see you). you can feel the bulge press against your center when she pulls you in for a hug, certain she can hear the soft gasp that falls from your lips.

⟡ you’ve been crushing on her for the longest time. how could you not? she’s funny, and -truth be told- kinder than your brother’s other friends. on top of that she’s so god damn handsome.

⟡ but you would’ve been too scared to actually try and make the first move.

⟡ so you’re grateful that she’s the one to flirt with you at one of your brother’s parties: when walking past you, she moves your body out of the way with a hand on your waist. a hand that lingers.

⟡ playful banter over a shared drink turns into two, which then turns into innocent dancing together.

⟡ the rest is history, but led to frequent make out sessions in your room, to secret touches when no one’s around, to fucking in the back of her car.

⟡ whilst you don’t want anyone to know, robin loves to tease you around your brother: putting her hand on your leg under the table or whispering things in your ear when she’s passing by.

⟡ brother’s best friend!robin who fingers you on the dinner table when it’s just the two of you ??

⟡ she’d never tell but when she’s done with you or when you leave her alone in your room, she steals your underwear from time to time (though you’ve obviously noticed that they’re missing and that she must’ve taken them)

⟡ so when robin is back at her place she’ll get it out from her back pocket and finger herself raw to the thought (and scent) of you.

⟡ once you figured her out, catching a glimpse of a lilac pair of panties that’s peeking out of her pocket, you make sure to leave them in places where she’ll find them.

⟡ or she’ll simply take them from you once she’s done eating you out in the bathroom. just shoves them into her pocket and leaves you with shaky legs and no panties to put back on.

⟡ brother’s best friend!robin who catches you masturbating because you forgot to lock your door. she walks right in on you fingering yourself or humping your pillow while moaning her name.

⟡ once, she pushes you against the wall of your room so your face is pressed against it. she bends you over at the waist and takes your from behind like this.

⟡ “gotta be quiet for me baby. your brother is right next door. we wouldn’t want him to know what i’m doing in your room now, huh?” “shh, be quiet sweet thing” etc.

⟡ and if a moan does slip out, robin smacks your clit until your gushing, hissing: “that’s not quiet baby” into your ear.

⟡ she definitely puts a remote controlled bullet vibrator into your underwear when you’re hanging out with your brother and his other friends.

⟡ + she turns it up every time it’s your turn to speak.

⟡ and when robin notices you trying to sneak off to the bathroom for some relief, she obviously follows you, making up some vague excuse of you “seeming a little unwell”.

⟡ (you’ll end up with one leg thrown around her waist and her fingers in your mouth while she’s fucking her strap into you)

⟡ sucking robin’s strap in the back of her car that’s parked in your driveway???

⟡ after she took you out for dinner, robin offers you a ride home. you told your family you’d be out with friends so you have to be quick so they won’t spot the familiar car in the driveway.

⟡ her hands are in your hair and her strap is nudging the back of your throat as you bob your head along its length.

⟡ she moans whenever you take it into your mouth deeper, as if she could actually feel your warmth around her.

⟡ she does that whenever she’s fucking you, whether it’s her fingers or her cock sinking into you: pretends she can actually feel your cunt throbbing around her.

⟡ “so tight for me princess, fuck”

⟡ and she makes the most obscene noises when she’s going down on you: whimpering and moaning like a woman starved whenever she has the chance to eat you out.

⟡ she definitely has somewhat of an oral fixation.

⟡ always in the mood to eat you out if you’ll let her. always either sucking on your clit or fucking her tongue into you.

⟡ when you’re riding her, she’ll suck your nipples into her mouth immediately: the sight of your bouncing breasts right in front of her eyes too tempting for her not to give in.

⟡ and that woman has got stamina.

⟡ she can and she will spend hours between your legs: both arms wrapped around your thighs to spread them for her mouth while she eats you out.

⟡ her, holding you open with her thumbs to spit on your pussy???

⟡ it’s a rather rare occasion but when you do go down on her she’s loud.

⟡ she’ll hold you by the hair, groan in pleasure and praise you.

⟡ she’s so sensitive too!! <33

⟡ moaning for you and your pretty mouth and you haven’t even flicked her clit with your tongue yet.

⟡ robin will always be in charge though: she’ll pull you by the hair until she’s got you where she wants you. and if you don’t give her that, she’ll spin you onto your back and ride your face.

⟡ she’s lowkey athletic from some kind of sport she does with your brother.

⟡ which comes in handy when it comes to her picking you up and fucking you up against the nearest wall

⟡ additionally, you love to trace the the fine outline of her abs

⟡ pulling down her boxers whilst kneeling in between her legs and watching the strap come free 👁️👁️

⟡ she loves to talk dirty to you. she literally will not stop. not when she’s pounding into you, not when she’s eating you out, not when she’s finger fucking you mindless.

⟡ you’re pretty sure that, by now, her voice is probably enough to get you off.

⟡ „that’s it, that’s my girl. come on, cum for me baby”

⟡ robin loves to make you work for it: she loves to have you on your back, at her mercy, with her fingers fucking you closer and closer to the edge without ever pushing you over it.

⟡ “aw, do you want to cum baby? yeah? i see the way you’re lifting those hips for me. are you getting close? yeah?”

⟡ but she could never deny you for too long: she loves it when you fall apart beneath her. she loves to watch your pussy throb or even gush with your orgasm and the way your face contorts in pleasure.

⟡ robin would quite literally fuck you everywhere if given the chance. and even though it’s not often that you get to have the house to yourselves, when it does happen she makes good use of it…

⟡ …by bending you over the kitchen counter or the armrest of the couch.

⟡ but her favorite way of fucking you might just be eating you out from behind.

⟡ with your cunt fluttering around her tongue and your ass against her palms all while she’s making you cum again and again.