#//And exactly what gave him the confidence to start making those changes in the first place

[lee-laurent]

Just Friendly Things -- Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn brings his "friend" Hayden to meet the guys, only issue... they all wanna get on his nerves by flirting with her

content: arguing, teasing, flirting, some posssibly sexist jokes, suggestive jokes, making out, implied smut but no explicit smut

wc: 6.6k

notes: this took way longer than i expected because i hated the first few versions of hayden that i wrote. hope you guys enjoy! and pls pls let me know which fic from my most recent list you wanna see next!!!

Quinn had been convinced he had a type, until he met Hayden. The moment he laid eyes on the freckle-covered brunette behind the bar, all his ideas of the perfect woman went out the window.

He hadn't planned on approaching her that night--he rarely did that sort of thing--but something about her made it impossible to stay in his seat. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled as she teased the patrons, or the quick, confident way she moved, shaking cocktails and sliding beers across the counter without missing a beat. Or maybe it was her laugh, low and raspy, floating above the noise of the crowd and hitting him like a bucket of cold water.

When he reached the bar, he still hadn't figured out what to say. But she noticed him right away, tipping her head at him with an arched brow. "You gonna order something, or just stand there looking pretty?" she asked, smirking.

It had taken Quinn half a second too long to respond, his brain short-circuiting at the sound of her voice. Her smirk only deepened as she watched him scramble for words.

"Uh, yeah--just a beer. Whatever's on tap," he finally managed, shoving a hand through his hair.

"Sure thing, champ." She poured the drink in one smooth motion and set it in front of him, wiping her hands on a bar towel. "That'll be six bucks."

Quinn handed her a twenty. "Keep the change."

Her green eyes flicked up to meet his. "Big spender, huh?"

He shrugged, suddenly unsure of himself. "Just figured you deserve it. You're working hard."

That made her pause. The teasing look on her face softened for a split second, and she gave him a small smile before moving on to the next customer.

That had been six months ago. Now, Quinn had her memorized in ways he wasn't sure were healthy. He knew how her lips curved when she smiled, the exact spot on her shoulder that made her shiver when she kissed it, and the way her voice sounded when she moaned his name in the dark.

Not that they were anything serious--she'd made that clear from the start. "I'm not looking for a boyfriend, Hughes," she'd said one night, perched on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but one of his hoodies. Her legs had been tucked under her, and her fingers toyed absently with the hem of the sweathshirt. "I don't have time for that right now. Gotta focus on work and school, and I don't need a distraction."

"Fair enough," he'd replied, leaning back against the headboard and trying to sound nonchalant, like her answer didn't sting just a little.

It wasn't like he could blame her. She worked crazy hours at the bar, saving every spare dollar for tuition. And yet, every few nights, she still found her way into his bed--or his car, or his couch--looking at him with those green eyes and making it very clear she wanted him.

And that was the problem, really. He knew exactly what she wanted from him, but the feelings that had started creeping up on him were a hell of a lot messier.

Like now, as they drove through the winding roads to the lake house. Hayden was sitting in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to the way he kept sneaking glances at her. She'd insisted she could come as a friend--"We're just hanging out, right? Your brothers don't need to know anything."

Quinn had agreed, mostly because he didn't want to push his luck. But the idea of her spending an entire weekend around his brothers and friends--Jack, Luke, Cole, and Trevor--while pretending they didn't have history? He wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep it together.

Especially not when she looked like that.

~~

Quinn tightened his grip on the steering wheel, forcing himself to look at the road instad of Hayden. She was lounging in the passenger seat like she owned the place, legs pulled up and bare feet resting on the dash--something that normally annoyed him, but didn't when it was her. Her hair was twisted up on top of her head with a claw-clip, dark sunglasses perched on her nose, and her shorts were so short they were more like denim underwear. And worse, she didn't seem to have a single clue what she was doing to him.

"Any bets on how long before Trevor starts acting like an idiot?" she asked, not looking up from her phone.

Quinn exhaled, shaking his head. "Two minutes after we pull in."

Hayden snorted. "I'm giving him 30 seconds. Kid doesn't have an off switch."

"Don't let him get to you," Quinn warned, though his jaw clenched at the thought. He already knew how this was going to go: Trevor was going to flirt, Jack and Luke were going to egg him on, and Cole was going to sit back and stir the pot like the chaos-loving menace he was. The last thing Quinn needed was his brothers and friends turning this weekend into some weird interrogation.

She finally looked at him, dropping her phone onto her lap. "Relax, Hughesy. I can handle myself."

That was the problem. He knew she could handle herself. Hayden could flirt and toss back jabs like it was nobody's business. She was cool under pressure, quick with comebacks, and completely unfazed by guys like his friends. If anything, they were going to love her. Which was great--except it also meant they were going to keep pushing, keep prodding, and Quinn was going to have to sit there and pretend it didn't bother him.

He wasn't entirely sure he could pull that off.

The house was already crazy when they arrived. Quinn barely had time to turn off the engine before the front door flew open, and Jack and Trevor came sprinting out like a couple of dogs that'd been cooped up too long.

"Quinny!" Jack hollered, dragging out the name like he was twelve. His eyes darted to Hayden before a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. "And you brought a friend!"

"Careful, Jack, you're drooling," Hayden teased, sliding out of the car like she hadn't just turned Quinn's brain to mush.

Trevor skidded to a stop next to Jack, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he gave Hayden an exaggerated once-over. "Who's this?" he asked, like Quinn wasn't standing right there.

"Hayden," she said, unfazed. "You must be Trevor."

His grin widened. "Guilty. Did Quinn tell you that I'm his favourite?"

Quinn groaned, dragging their bags out of the trunk. "Literally no one has ever said that ever."

Trevor ignored him, zeroing in on Hayden. "So, you a hockey fan? Or did Quinny trick you into coming up here?"

Hayden shot Quinn a quick, amused look over her shoulder before turning back to the blond. "No tricks. I just like the lake."

"I'm gonna like you."

"Trevor," Quinn said sharply, but it was too late. Hayden was already laughing, and Trevor looked delighted, like he'd just discovered a new game.

This was going to be a long weekend.

~~

The kitchen was already loud by the time Quinn woke up the next morning. Jack was rummaging through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of skim milk, while Luke stood at the stove making ovens. Trevor was leaning against the counter, already drinking despite the early hour.

Then there was Hayden, perched on a stool like she'd been part of the group for years. She was wearing a tank top and athletic shorts, her legs crossed as she sipped a mug of coffee one of the guys had made for her. She looked completely at ease, laughing softly at something Trevor had just said.

"Morning, sunshine," Jack called out when he spotted Quinn. "You sleep okay on the couch?"

Trevor smirked. "Guess you're more of a gentleman than I thought, letting Hayden have the bed."

Quinn ignored him, heading straight for the coffee pot. "Someone had to make sure you idiots didn't scare her off already."

"We're harmless," Jack said, grabbing a yogurt and joining Hayden at the counter. "Right, Hayden?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Totally harmless."

Trevor licked his lips, setting down his beer. "So, Hayden, what's your deal? You work at a bar, right? Bet you've got some wild stories."

"Plenty," she said easily. "But I'm guessing you don't wanna hear about drunk bachleorette parties or old guys claiming they already tipped me when it's the first time I've ever seen them."

"Come on," Trevor said, flashing her his most charming grin. "What about the weirdest pickup line you've ever gotten?"

"I don't know... probably the guy who told me I had eyes like a mermaid and asked if I wanted to 'swim into his arms.'"

Jack snorted. "That's terrible."

"Right?" Hayden laughed again. "I told him I'd rather drown."

Trevor laughed so hard he nearly spilled his beer. "Okay, that's solid. But what about the best pickup line? You've gotta have one."

Quinn, pouring his coffee, clenched his jaw. He knew where this was going.

Hayden glanced at him briefly. "I don't really go for pickup lines," she shrugged. "If a guy's confident, he doesn't need one."

"Oh, I'm confident," Trevor leaned a little closer.

Hayden smirked. "Good for you, bud."

Quinn's knuckles tightened around his mug as he turned and leaned against the counter. "Shouldn't you save some of that energy for the lake, Trev? Or is embarrassing yourself in the water not enough anymore?"

Trevor shot him a look, but Hayden only smiled, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Careful, Hughesy," she said lightly. "You're starting to sound jealous."

Quinn froze, scrambling for a response. "I'm not--"

"She's got a point," Jack interrupted. "You're lookin' a little tense there, Quinny."

"I'm fine!"

Hayden raised her coffee mug to hide her smile, but the damage was already done.

Quinn's nerves were frayed by the end of breakfast. Hayden had slipped easily into the background, chatting with Luke about something or other, but Trevor and Jack were relentless in their interrogation.

"Hayden, what kind of guys do you usually go for?" Trevor asked carefully as they started clearing the plates.

Quinn stiffened, glancing at Hayden out of the corner of his eye. She didnt' miss a beat.

"Hmm. I guess I like guys who can make me laugh."

"That's me!" Trevor said excitedly.

"Right," she said, deadpan. "But I also like guys who know when to quit."

Jack laughed, clapping Trevor on the back. "Ouch! Guess you're out of luck, bud!"

Quinn didn't bother to hide his smirk, but his amusement didn't last long. Trevor wasn't giving up, and Hayden seemed determined to keep sparring with him.

The group wasted no time in dragging all their gear down to the water. Paddleboards, kayaks, and inner tubes littered the dock, and Jack was already trying to wrestle Luke into the water just for the sake of it.

Quinn had just finished setting up a folding chair near the edg of the dock when he caught sight of Hayden emerging from the house.

His brain short-circuited.

She was wearing a simple blue bikini, nothing overly flashy, but it might as well have been haute couture for the way it made his chest tighten. Her hair was loose now, claw clip abandoned, and her sungless perched on her pale nose as she carried a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

She walked like she owned the place, completely oblivious to how every head on the dock turned her way.

"Jesus, Quinn," Jack grinned. "Where'd you find her?"

Quinn scowled. "Shut up, Jack."

"Hey, Hayden!" Trevor called, waving her over like they were old friends. "You ever paddleboard before?"

Hayden stopped at the edge of the dock, plating her hands on her hips. "Once or twice. Why?"

Trevor pulled a board toward himself. "Because you're about to get a free lesson from the best."

"You mean Luke?" she quipped, smirking proudly.

Trevor clutched his chest like she'd stabbed him. "That hurts. I'm actually really fucking great at this!"

"Uh-huh." Hayden tossed her towel onto a chair, kicking off her sandals. "Fine. Show me what you've got."

Quinn groaned internally as Trevor guided her toward the paddleboard. He tried to focus on adjusting one of the chairs, but his eyes kept returning to Hayden as Trevor "helped" her climb onto the board.

"Keep your knees bent," Trevor said, standing waist-deep in the water beside her. "It's all about balance."

"Got it," Hayden said, adjusting her stance.

"You're a natural," he grinned up at her. Then, with an exaggerated wave of his arm, he tipped her board slightly to the side, sending her wobbling.

Quinn tensed instinctively, stepping toward the edge of the dock, but Hayden quickly recovered, giving Trevor a look that could melt steel.

"Do that again, and you're swimming home with this thing shoved up your ass," she said flatly.

Luke burst out laughing from where he was lounging on an inner tube. "She's not wrong, Trev. You're annoying as fuck."

Trevor ignored him, hopping onto his own paddleboard. "Alright, then. Let's race."

"You're on," Hayden paddled toward the deeper water with ease.

Quinn really wanted to stay out of it, but watching Trevor and Hayden laughing and splashing each other in the middle of the lake was slowly driving him insane. He stood at the edge of the dock, hands on hips like a dad, until Jack strolled over and gave him a knowing look.

"You good, man? You've been standing there glaring at Trevor for five minutes."

"I'm not glaring," Quinn said, moving to cross his arms.

"Sure," Jack said, dragging out the word. "Hey, maybe we should all take turns teaching Hayden how to paddleboard. I mean, I've got skills."

"Don't."

Jack raised his hands in surrender, laughing as he walked away.

~~

Quinn moved from standing to sitting, his feet in the water, when Hayden paddled back toward him. Trevor had abandoned his board by this point, leaving her to float leisurely near the dock.

"Not bad, huh?" she said, smirking as she climbed off the board and into the shallow water.

"You handled yourself," Quinn said, shrugging like it didn't matter.

Hayden raised an eyebrow, stepping closer until she was standing waist-deep in the water in front of him. "You sure you're okay? You've been looking kind of... tense."

"I'm fine," he said, though his shoulders gave him away.

"Right." She reached past him to grab her towel, her arm brushing his in the process. The touch was brief, accidental, but it was enough to send a jolt through him.

"Hayden," Trevor called from the shore, "you wanna head out again? I think I can beat you this time."

Quinn didn't miss how Trevor's eyes flicked down to Hayden's legs as she pushed herself up on the dock, or the stupid grin on his face when she finally looked at him.

"Pass," she waved him off. "I've already proven I'm better than you."

Quinn couldn't help it; he smirked.

As Hayden sat down beside him to dry off, he caught her looking at him through the corner of her eye. "You're glaring again," she mumbled, covering it with a fake cough.

"I'm not."

"Sure..."

Quinn didn't say anything, looking back out over the water. Trying his hardest, and failing, to think of anythingbut how much longer this weekend was going to last.

~~

Dinner was even more chaotic... if that was possible.

The dining table was a mix of empty beer bottles, half-eaten burgers, and bowls of chips scattered across every inch of available surface. Luke and Jack had teamed up on the grill, burning half the patties while Trevor heckled them from his seat. Cole had claimed his spot across from Hayden, watching things unfold with a look on his face that Quinn was starting to resent.

And of course, Hayden--perfectly unbothered--sat at Quinn's right, sipping a beer and laughing at the guys' stupid antics. Quinn tried not to notice how her shoulder brushed his every time she shifted in her seat.

"So, Hayden," Trevor said suddenly, wiping ketchup off his fingers, "we've all been wondering--what's your deal?"

"My deal?" she bit back a smile.

"You know," he leaned foward on his elbows. "What's a girl like you doing hanging out with a guy like Quinn?"

Quinn choked on a sip of water, sputtering into his napkin. "Jesus, Trevor."

"What?" he innocently flashed a grin. "I'm just saying. You're cool, Hayden. You've got, like, a vibe. Quinn's... well. Quinn."

Hayden turned to Quinn, tilting her head dramatically as if evaluating him. "You're right. I could probably do better."

The table erupted into laughter, Jack banging his fist against the table as Trevor fell back in his chair. Quinn groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, though he couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips.

"See?" Trevor said, pointing at Hayden like she'd just proven his point. "I like her. She's honest."

"Honest, huh?" Hayden smirked, lifting her beer to her lips. "Careful, Z. I don't think you can handle honest."

Trevor was undeterred. "Oh, I can handle honest. Hit me."

"Alright. Honestly? You talk a lot of shit for someone who fell off a paddleboard twice today."

"Hey! The second time didn't count!" Trevor argued, pointing a potato chip at her. "I was distracted."

"By what?"

"By you," he smirked, like he thought he was the smoothest guy ever.

Quinn's hand clenched under the table. He forced himself to take a sip of his drink, trying to mask his irritation.

"Well, don't let it happen again. I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself three times today," she giggled.

Luke snorted into his drink, while Cole howled from the other side of the table.

"I don't embarrass easily."

"Could've fooled me," Hayden said, giving Quinn's thigh a squeeze under the table.

"You're good at this," Jack laughed. "You should come to dinners more often."

"Don't encourage her," Quinn rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Quinny," Jack nudged him with his elbow. "You're just mad she's better at coming up with comebacks than you are."

"Not mad."

"Uh-huh. I'll see it when I believe it, Quinnifer."

~~

Once the plates were cleared and the guys had moved outside to do god-knows-what, Quinn hang back in the kitchen, rinsing dishes just to keep his hands busy. Hayden lingered, drying plates as they were handed to her.

"You sure you're okay, Q?"

"I'm fine," he said, though his jaw was still tight.

"You've been 'fine' all day," she teased. "You sure you don't want to try a different excuse?"

He sighed, setting down the plate he was holding. "They're onto us."

"So? Let them wonder. What's the worst that could happen?"

Quinn stared at her, incredulous. "Are you serious? We're not... dating. I... don't need them knowing about... us."

"You're worried because we're casual? Quinn, I'm sure they've all had flings before."

"But, you--"

"Hayden! Quit flirting with my brother and come play pong!" Jack called from the sliding door.

"Coming!" she pressed a quick kiss to Quinn's cheek before rounding the corner and disappearing out of his sight. Maybe Hayden was going to be the death of him and not this weekend.

~~

The house was finally quiet.

Quinn lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling lit dimly from a lamp in the corner, the soft hum of fridge the only sound he could hear along with the occasional snore from upstairs (Trevor). His pillow was lumpy, the blanket was scratchy, and he'd long given up trying to get comfortable. He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying there, but it felt like hours.

Everyone had settled for the night, laughter and shouting just a ghost of the day now. Trevor had been the last holdout, talking loudly about his plans to crush everyone at volleyball the next day until Jack shoved him up the stairs to the guest room.

Quinn waited until he was sure--absolutely sure--the house was still. Then, as quiet as possible, he swung his legs off the couch, folding the blanket and tossing it over the armrest.

The door to his bedroom creaked slightly as he opened it, and he winced, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody had heard. The hallway remained silent, and he slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

Hayden was lying on her side, her back to the door. She was scrolling through her phone, her hair splayed out across the pillow, one of his old t-shirts draped loosely over her frame.

"Took you long enough," she murmured, not bothering to turn around.

Quinn rolled his eyes, tugging his hoodie over his head and tossing it onto his desk chair. "I had to wait for them to fall asleep."

"They're not asleep," Hayden said, her voice low but teasing. "Trevor's probably lying awake right now, trying to figure out if you're sneaking up here or not."

Quinn froze, his hand on the edge of the bed. "He's not."

"Wanna bet?"

He sighed, pulling back the covers and sliding into bed beside her. "If he was, he'd already be at the door making some dumb comment."

"Fair point," she sighed, finally setting her phone on the nightstand and turning to face him. Her eyes gleamed faintly in the low light from the hallway. "Still, you're playing a dangerous game, Quinny."

Quinn propped himself up on one elbow, frowning at her. "I'm not the one who spent the entire day letting Trevor flirt with me."

She smirked. "What was I supposed to do? Tell him to stop? That'd make things way more suspicious."

"You didn't have to encourage him."

"I wasn't encouraging him," Hayden cocked an eyebrow. "I was shutting him down."

Quinn scoffed. "You call that shutting him down?"

"What would you call it?"

"Flirting," he muttered, unable to keep the bite out of his tone.

Her smirk only widened. "You sound jealous."

"I'm not--"

"Relax," her tone softened. "If I wanted Trevor, I'd be in his bed right now."

Quinn stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Her tone was casual, but held a quiet reassurance he hadn't been expecting.

"Besides," she added, shifting onto her back, "he's not my type."

"Yeah? What is your type?"

Hayden turned to look at him, biting her lip to hold back her smile. "You really wanna know?"

"Yeah," he said, his throat dry.

She didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Go to sleep, Huggy."

He exhaled a quiet laugh, lying back against the pillow. "Night, Hayden."

If I wanted Trevor, I'd be in his bed right now.

He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse... so much worse.

~~

Jack and Trevor had dragged the volleyball net out from the shed, while Luke attempted to detangle it and Cole sat nearby offering unhelpful commentary.

"Hayden, you any good at volleyball?" Trevor asked, tossing the ball lazily in the air and catching it.

Hayden shrugged, standing at the edge of the makeshift court in one of Quinn's t-shirts knotted at her waist. "I can hold my own."

"Perfect! You're on my team then," he said, his grin widening.

Quinn grimaced, adjusting the net. "We didn't even pick teams yet."

"We don't have to," Trevor said, tossing the ball at Hayden, who caught it easily. "I already called dibs."

"Dibs don't count," Jack argued, stepping into the sand. "Besides, I don't trust you not to ruin every single serve she makes."

"Guys," Hayden interrupted. "We can rotate teams."

Jack and Trevor exchanged a look then both shrugged, apparently satisfied.

"Fine," Trevor smirked. "But don't be mad when we crush you."

~~

"Out!" Luke yelled, pointing as the ball bounced into the sand.

Trevor threw his hands in the air. "That was not out!"

"Dude, it was so out," Jack said, shaking his head as he jogged to retrieve the ball.

Meanwhile, Hayden stood at the net, adjusting her ponytail and smiling. Quinn couldn't help but stare, admiring everything from the curve of her neck to how her shorts fit her thighs.

"Q, stop staring and serve the ball!" Jack called.

"I'm not staring," Quinn mumbled, lining up to serve

The next rally was fast-paced, with Jack diving to save a ball and Luke lobbing it back over the net. Hayden held her own, quick on her feet and unflinching as instructions were barked at her.

"Nice hit!" Trevor exclaimed after she spiked the ball, raising his hand for a high-five.

She slapped his palm lightly, her smile easy, but Quinn caught the way Trevor's hand lingered for just a second too long.

"Focus, Trev," he snapped, tone sharper than intended.

Trevor turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. "I am focused. You okay, man?"

"I'm fine."

~~

A few points later, Hayden stumbled as she went for the ball, her foot catching in the sand. Quinn moved without thinking, reaching out to steady her before she could fall.

"You good?" he asked, his hand warm on her arm.

"Yeah," she said, brushing the sand off her leg as she looked up at him. Her eyes get his and the rest of the group seemed to fade away.

"Thanks," she added softly.

"Anytime."

"Alright, lovebirds," Cole called, ruining their moment. "Can we play now?"

Hayden laughed, stepping back to her spot. Quinn shot Cole a glare but didn't respond, his ears burning.

The final play came down to Hayden, Trevor, and Cole on one side, with Quinn, Jack, and Luke on the other.

"Just hit it over," Quinn muttered to Jack, who was already bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Trevor set the ball perfectly, sending it sailing towards Hayden. She jumped, spiking it cleanly over the net and straight into the sand on the other side.

"Game!" Trevor yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Hayden raised her hands in victory, giggling as Trevor ran over to give her a congratulatory hug. Quinn gaze looked like it could kill as Trevor lifted her slightly off the ground, spinning her once before setting her back down.

"Alright, alright," she said, patting him on the shoulder as she escaped his grasp. "Calm down, Z."

"Can't help it," Trevor said grinning as he turned to Quinn. "You guys put up a good fight, though. Better luck next time."

Quinn didn't respond, heading straight for the water with the ball tucked under his arm.

Hayden watched him go, her smile fading. She didn't follow right away, but when she did, she caught up to him at the water's edge, where he was skimming the ball across the surface.

"You okay?" she whispered, wanting to keep their conversation private.

"I'm fine."

"Still just fine? Because you seemed... tense back there."

"Not tense," he muttered, thought Hayden knew him well enough to know he was lying. She could tell from the tightness in his posture.

"You know you can quit the protective act, right? Trevor's harmless."

Quinn snorted. "Harmless isn't the word I'd use."

She knocked his shoulder with hers. "Chill, babe. You need to be more... zen."

"Zen?"

"Shut up, I'm trying. And... just for the record, you're way more fun to play with."

"Yeah?"

"Duh," she said, her smile teasing. "But don't let it get to your head."

"Noted."

~~

The fire crackled softly, sending soft ambers into the air around it. The group lounged in mismatched deck chairs around the campfire, beers and marshmallows in hand. Luke was poking at the logs with a stick, while Jack balanced on the two back legs of his chair... strongly against Hayden's wishes.

She was curled up in one of the chairs, her legs tucked up to her chest, the glow of the fire casting shadows across her face. Quinn sat across from her, trying--and failing--not to stare at how majestic she looked.

"This is nice," she mumbled, sipping her drink.

"Best part of the trip," Jack agreed.

"Well, second best," Trevor added with a grin.

"Let me guess," Hayden said dryly. "The best part is beating everyone at volleyball."

"You fucking know it!"

Quinn rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of beer.

"Alright, I've got a question for you, Hayden," Trevor giggled to himself, already tipsy.

"Here we go," Cole cackled.

"No, no, it's a good one," he insisted. "If you had to date one of us, who would it be?"

The group erupted into groans and howls of laughter, with Luke flinging a marshmallow at Trevor's head. "Dude, what's wrong with you?"

"What?" Trevor asked, popping the sweet into his mouth. "It's a valid question!"

"Is it?"

"Yes! And you have to answer. It's the rules."

"What rules?" Jack asked with a snort.

Trevor ignored him, looking back at Hayden. "Come on. Hypothetically. Who's your pick?"

Hayden looked around the circle, her lips twitching like she was holding back a laugh. "Hmm," she said, drawing out the word just enough to make Trevor lean forward in anticipation. "I think... I'd pick... Cole."

Cole nearly choked on his s'more. "What?"

"You're the least annoying... I think," she shrugged.

"Fucking brutal," Jack shook his head.

"Good choice," Cole lifted his beer to her in toast.

Trevor pouted. "That's not fair. I'm not that annoying."

"Very debatable," Cole said, earning a hard shove.

Trevor, however, wasn't done.

"Okay, new question. What's the most romantic thing a guy's ever done for you?"

"You're fucking killing me," Luke groaned.

"Just answer the question!"

"Probably this guy who made me tea every morning for a week after my late-night shifts. And he didn't even drink tea himself."

"That's cute," Cole nodded.

Jack frowned. "Quinn doesn't drink tea."

Hayden bit her lip, trying to hide her amusement.

Quinn's cheeks burned as every eye in the group turned to him. "What?"

"Nothing... just making an observation."

"Interesting."

"I think it's time for bed," Quinn said abruptly, standing and brushing the sand from his shorts.

Hayden lingered for a moment, finishing her drink before standing and following him.

~~

Quinn was already lying on "her" bed when Hayden slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"You okay?"

"You keep asking that."

"Let me guess you're fine?"

"Yup," he said, popping the 'p.'

Hayden shook her head, pulling off her tank top and replacing it with one of Quinn's t-shirts before climbing into bed beside him. "You didn't look fine."

"They're fucking relentless."

"It's their job. They're... feeling out my vibe."

"Trevor sucks dick," he rubbed his hands over his face.

Hayden reached out, running her hand through his hair. "You didn't like his questions?"

"No."

"You're cute when you're worked up, you know that?"

Quinn rolled his eyes, but smiled despite himself. "Go to sleep."

"Fine," she said, rolling onto her back and pulling the covers over her. "For the record, I wasn't lying about the tea."

"Goodnight Hayden," he chuckled.

"Night, Huggy."

Hayden couldn't help but wonder if this weekend was proving that maybe... they weren't meant to just be "friends."

~~

Breakfast passed as normal, Trevor making comments about "volleyball rematch strats" and Jack pestering Hayden about if she'd ever stay for another "family" holiday again. Quinn kept his head down, gritting his teeth through most of it.

By the time they made it down for another round of games in the late afternoon, Quinn was wound so tightly he could feel it in the back of his neck.

And then... Trevor started again.

"Hayden, I think you should be the ref," he said tossing the ball between his hands. "You're way too good at this. It's like totally unfair to the rest of us."

"She's not that good," Quinn said, adjusting the net.

"Oh, come on, Qball. Don't be bitter just because she carried my team yesterday."

Hayden cocked an eyebrow. "I'm standing right here, ya know?"

Trevor smirked. "Trust me, I know."

Quinn felt a rush of heat flood his chest, a sharp pang of jealousy and irritation that he couldn't ignore.

"Alright," he snapped, letting go of the net and stepping back. "Can we just play already?"

"Jeez, man. Relax," Trevor blinked, his grin fading slightly.

"Quinn," Hayden mumbled, but he was already walking toward the house, his jaw set and his fists clenched at his sides

~~

She found him a few minutes later, standing in the kitchen and staring out the window at the water.

"What are you doing?" he exhaled sharply.

Hayden frowned. "What'd you mean?"

"This," he gestured towards the lake. "With Trevor. With all of them. You're enjoying this way too much."

"So what if I am? It's harmless, Quinn."

"It's not harmless," his voice rose. "They're pushing, Hayden. They're asking all these questions, making comments--and you're feeding into it!"

"I'm not feeding into it," she said, her tone defensive. "I'm just... playing along."

"Well... maybe you should stop."

"What's your problem, Hughes?" she narrowed her eyes. "You're the one who agreed to keep this under wraps. I'm just doing what you asked."

"Yeah, well, it's not fucking working. They clearly know."

"So what?" she challenged, stepping closer. "What's the worst that could happen? They find out we're sleeping together? Who cares?"

"I care!" Quinn yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.

Hayden froze, her eyes as wide as saucers.

He sighed. "I care, Hayden. Because this isn't just some game for me. It never has been."

The tension in the room was thick, the weight of his words hanging between them.

"Quinn..."

"You have no idea how hard this has been," he said, his voice low and intense. "Watching them flirt with you, tease you--like you're just some... some random girl I brought along."

"Q..."

"I know we're not serious. Not official," he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I know you don't want anything serious. But you're mine, Hayden. And it's fucking killing me to sit here and pretend that you're not."

Her breath hitched, her eyes locked on his.

"Say something," his voice was rough, almost pleading.

Hayden didn't say anything. Instead, in two quick steps, she grabbed his face and pulled him down into a kiss.

Quinn froze for a quarter of a second before his hands found her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was hot and urgent, everything that Quinn had been bottling up for months spilling out at once.

They stumbled back toward the counter, Hayden's hands tangling in his hair as he lifted her onto the edge. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a burning path in their wake.

"Quinn," she whispered, breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look in her eyes. "Tell me this isn't just casual for you."

She stared at him, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. "It's not," she admitted. "Hasn't been for a while."

"Good," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.

~~

The lay tangled together in his bed, the room quiet except for them both trying to catch their breath, Hayden drawing patterns on Quinn's bare chest with her finger.

He felt lighter than he had in days, the knot in his chest finally loosened... maybe even gone.

"You okay?" she whispered, pressing a kiss to the skin of his pec.

"Yeah, you?"

She tilted her head up, scruncing her nose as he kissed it. "I'm good."

Finally, they could both breathe easy.

~~

Jack and Trevor were already bickering as Hayden headed downstairs in the morning. She paused in the doorway, taking a second to tug the hem of Quinn's hoodie further down her thighs. It was comically oversized on her, the sleeves swallowing her hands, but it was warm and soft, and she hadn't felt like getting dressed into her own clothes.

Her hair was a mess from both sleep and sex, and her skin was flushed in places Quinn's stubble had brushed against the night before. She wasn't even thinking about it was she padded into the kitchen, bare feet against the hardwood floor.

Trevor was the first to notice. Of course.

"Morning, Hayden," he said cheerfully, taking a bite of his eggs. Then his gaze dropped to the hoodie, and his smile widened. "Wait a second. Is that--"

Jack turned, taking in her appearance. "Oh, no way! Is that Quinn's hoodie?"

Hayden blinked, feigning innocence as she grabbed a mug from the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Good morning to you too, Jack."

"Don't 'good morning' me," he pointed the spatula he was using at her. "What is going on here?"

Trevor's eyes flicked to her neck, and his jaw dropped. "Oh my God!"

"What?" she asked, sipping her coffee like nothing was amiss.

Trevor laughed, loud and incredulous, gesturing wildly. "You've got-- Jesus, Hayden."

"You're gonna have to be specific, Trevor."

Jack moved closer, squinting his eyes like he was solving a crime. This his eyes widened. "No fucking way!"

"What?" Luke asked. He followed Jack's gaze and nearly dropped his fork. "Oh, damn."

"What?" Cole said, peeking over Luke's shoulder. His eyes moved from Hayden to the hoodie to her neck, and then to Quinn, who had just walked in from the living room.

Quinn froze, his hair still damp from the shower and a fresh t-shirt clinging to his chest. "What's goin' on?"

Jack and Trevor turned to him in unison, both grinning like maniacs.

"Quinn," Jack started, his voice high-pitched with fake shock. "Care to explain why Hayden is wearing your hoodie and why her neck looks like she lost a fight with a fucking vampire?"

"Can we not do this right now?"

Trevor cackled, doubling over. "Oh, we're absolutely doing this right now."

"Dude," Luke shook his head. "I thought you said nothing was going on."

Cole smirked, "Guess the couch wasn't so comfortable after all."

"Not helping," Quinn shot him a glare.

"Y'all are making a big deal out of nothing," Hayden said, popping a piece of bacon into her mouth.

Trevor pointed at her, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, no. This is not 'nothing', Hayden."

"Looks like something to me," Jack wiggled his eyebrows.

"Guys," Quinn's voice was strained. "Can you please just drop it?"

"Oh, come on, Quinny!" Jack nudged him in the ribs. "This is a big moment. You've got a girlfriend now!"

"She's not my--" Quinn started, but Hayden cut him off.

"Careful, Jack," she smirked. "You sound jealous."

Trevor howled with laughter, gripping the counter for support. "She's good. She's so good."

Quinn groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I hate all of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Hayden said lightly, taking another sip of her coffee.

Luke, who had been mostly quiet, finally spoke up. “So, uh... are we gonna talk about this, or are you just gonna keep pretending it’s ‘nothing’?”

“It’s nothing,” Quinn muttered, glaring at his brothers.

“Yeah, sure,” Cole said, smirking. “We believe you.”

Hayden laughed softly, setting her mug down. “Alright, boys. Enough interrogation. Let the man eat breakfast in peace.”

“Fine,” Jack said, holding up his hands. “But this isn’t over.”

Quinn sighed, grabbing a plate and filling it with eggs and toast. He sat down at the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Hayden slid into the chair beside him, her smile softening as she leaned in close enough for only him to hear. “You okay, Hughes?” she asked for the millionth time that trip.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Good,” she said, squeezing his hand three time under the table.

Quinn didn’t look up, but the faint smile tugging at his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

Maybe the chaos was all worth it in the end. Because Quinn Hughes finally had the girl of his dreams.

[eu-nicola]

jealousy

summary: you're jealous of a woman who approached Rafe

warnings: nothing

word counter: 2291

author's note: english is not my first language, writing something better but i left this here

You had known Rafe Cameron forever. Outer Banks was far too small for you not to cross paths with him every now and then, although you had always been from two completely different worlds. You were a Pogue, born and raised between sunsets on the docks and impromptu beach parties. He, on the other hand, was a Kook, living in the luxury and opulence of Figure Eight, surrounded by wealth that you had no interest in.

You had always thought Rafe was arrogant, self-centered, and often unbearable. And to be honest, he didn’t have a very different opinion of you. Every time you crossed paths at a party or on the docks, there were looks filled with disdain and cutting remarks. To him, you were a "loud Pogue," always ready to question him. To you, he was "the typical spoiled rich kid," used to getting whatever he wanted.

The funny thing is, you were both wrong.

Everything changed one night, one of those where the air was thick with salt, and the sky seemed like an infinite blanket of stars. You had gone to a beach party, invited by Sarah and Kiara, and, of course, Rafe was there with his usual entourage of friends. You had decided to ignore him as usual, but the events of that night wouldn’t allow it.

It all started with a sarcastic comment from him, something about how Pogues were always sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. You responded with an equally sharp retort, and before you knew it, you were engaged in an argument in front of everyone. You don’t exactly remember what you said, but it was enough to shut him up. Rafe gave you a look you had never seen before: a mix of challenge, interest, and something you couldn’t quite identify.

Later that same night, you found him alone, sitting on a rock near the water. It was rare to see him apart from his group, but something in you decided to approach him, maybe driven by curiosity or lingering anger. To your surprise, instead of continuing the fight, you talked. And for the first time, you saw another side of Rafe. A more honest, even vulnerable side. He talked about things you’d never have imagined bothered him, and you surprised yourself by being honest with him too.

That night marked the beginning of something neither of you expected.

At first, it was strange. It wasn’t like you suddenly got along. In fact, most of the time, you still argued, but the fights stopped being purely hostile. There was something electric about, a tension both of you pretended to ignore but became harder to hide every day. It didn’t take long before that tension spilled over.

The first kiss was an accident or at least that’s what you told yourselves afterward. It was during another argument, one that started over something insignificant but ended with both of you too close, too aware of each other. You didn’t know who made the first move, only that suddenly his lips were on yours, and everything you had thought about him crumbled in that moment.

From then on, things changed. You started spending more time together, first in secret, away from curious eyes and the judgments you both knew you would face. Surprisingly, it was Rafe who insisted on keeping your relationship private. “It’s complicated,” he told you once, and even though you didn’t like the answer, you understood why.

Still, the relationship progressed quickly. You spent almost every night at his place, though you never entered through the front door. He always found ways to make you feel special, whether it was sneaking you onto his bike to ride to the cliffs or staying up with you for hours, just talking. Despite your differences, you began to see how much you actually had in common.

Rafe, despite his confident, was someone with far too many inner demons. Sometimes, he would come home late, upset about something he wouldn’t tell you, but you found ways to calm him down. In turn, he was always there when you needed him. You learned to trust him more than anyone you ever had before.

Of course, it wasn’t perfect. Sometimes you fought, and you couldn’t help but wonder if what you had was sustainable. You were a Pogue, and that wasn’t going to change. He, a Kook, had a reputation to maintain, expectations to fulfill. Yet when you were with him, none of that seemed to matter.

What surprised you most was how much he truly cared about you. It was something you never would have expected from someone like Rafe Cameron. He treated you with a tenderness you never imagined he could have. When you were with him, you felt seen, like you were the only thing that mattered in his world.

The months flew by, almost like a sigh. You and Rafe were still together, closer than you’d ever thought possible at the beginning. What had started as something secret had become your refuge, a space where you could be authentic without the weight of the Pogue and Kook labels. But you couldn’t deny that being with him meant stepping into his world, a place you never quite got used to.

That night was yet another test of that.

You found yourself at an elegant party, one of those where everything about the atmosphere screamed "money." The music was soft, like a sophisticated murmur, and the place was filled with people who seemed all too aware of their status. The men wore perfectly tailored suits, the women donned dresses that probably cost more than your house, and everyone drank whiskey or champagne like it was water.

You had tried to fit in, wearing a pretty dress and styling your hair with care, but no matter how much you tried, you always felt like you didn’t belong. You stood near a table, idly playing with the rim of your wine glass, watching people chatter in small groups. Everything felt so superficial, so far removed from what you knew, it made you want to laugh.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Rafe. He was a little farther away, at the bar, with a whiskey glass in hand. His eyes were almost glassy, a clear sign he’d already had more than enough to drink. Despite everything, he looked incredible, as always. He had that presence that made people stare, that almost arrogant confidence that drove you crazy but had also drawn you to him in the first place.

However, you weren’t the only one who noticed his charm.

A blonde woman, probably in her fifties, was approaching him. She wore an elegant dress that fit her perfectly, carrying herself with the kind of confidence that screamed she always got what she wanted. She stopped in front of Rafe and smiled at him, a smile that made your teeth clench.

You watched as she leaned in, introducing herself with a handshake. Rafe, drunk but ever charming, smiled back and soon they were talking like old friends. After a moment, they moved to a nearby table, sitting across from each other.

You weren’t the jealous type, at least not in the classic sense. You never felt the need to control what Rafe did or who he talked to. But there was something about this woman, about the way she looked at him and smiled, that made your blood boil. You couldn’t quite explain it, but you felt it deep in your chest.

You took a sip of your wine, trying to ignore it. But the discomfort didn’t go away, and before you could stop yourself, you were already walking toward them. You stopped next to Rafe, placing a hand on the back of his chair, and glanced at the woman.

She noticed you immediately and gave you a smile that seemed far too fake to be polite.

“Oh, hello,” she said in a high-pitched tone, as if surprised to see you there.

“Hello,” you replied quietly, keeping a neutral expression.

The woman shifted her attention back to Rafe, as if you no longer existed.

“Who’s she?” she asked curiously, gesturing toward you with a subtle tilt of her head.

Rafe glanced at you briefly before turning to the woman. It took him a moment, probably more due to the alcohol than anything else, but he finally answered:

“This is my, uh, friend.”

You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words but said nothing. The woman, who apparently was named Hollis, gave you another smile and nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Rafe’s friend.” Her tone was friendly, but there was something in it that set your nerves on edge.

After a few more comments, Hollis finally got up. Before leaving, she handed Rafe a card, which he accepted without hesitation. You watched as she walked away confidently, and once she disappeared into the crowd, you turned your attention back to Rafe.

“Who’s she?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Rafe rubbed his forehead, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol, and looked at the card in his hand.

“She’s the biggest real estate agent on the island. Also, apparently, a cougar.”

Your reaction was immediate: a mocking laugh escaped your lips as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, sure. The biggest cougar on the island.”

Rafe kept looking at you with that smirk you loved to hate. You knew what was coming; you recognized that spark of amusement in his eyes whenever he found an opportunity to tease you.

“So?” he asked, leaning a little closer to you, his warm breath brushing your skin. “Are you jealous?”

You stared at him without flinching, even though you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. You weren’t going to give in so easily. You raised an eyebrow and adopted a nonchalant tone, though deliberately defiant:

“Should I be, friend?”

That stopped him for a second, but only for his grin to widen even more. He leaned in closer, reducing the distance between you until your faces were dangerously close. You felt your heart begin to race, but you held your ground.

“Friend?” he repeated, his deep voice dropping even lower. He leaned in until his nose brushed yours, his teasing smile making you want to laugh and hit him at the same time. “Is that all I am to you?”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling but decided it was time to hit back.

“Maybe I should go find JJ.”

Rafe’s smirk disappeared for a second. You saw him tense, and before you could step back, he grabbed your waist and pulled you close, your chest colliding with his. His gaze locked on yours, intense and dangerous, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes that made him even more irresistible.

“Don’t tempt me. You know JJ can’t make you feel what I do,” he murmured, his voice rough and dripping with something deeper.

Your breath hitched for a moment, but you weren’t going to give in that easily. You looked at him with a challenging smile and raised an eyebrow.

“That sounds like a warning, Cameron. And you know I don’t like warnings.”

He smiled, that arrogant smile you knew so well, and before you could say anything else, he tilted his head, and his lips found yours. The kiss was so sudden you almost lost your balance, but his firm hands.

The world seemed to disappear in that instant. You couldn’t hear the murmur of the party or the soft clinking of champagne glasses around you. All you felt was Rafe, his warmth, his intensity, and the way his mouth claimed yours as if he was trying to prove a point.

When he finally pulled back, just enough for his lips to still brush against yours, he smiled again, triumphant.

“Are you going to run off to JJ now?” he asked in a whisper, his voice dripping with arrogance.

You rolled your eyes, trying to regain your composure, though the way your heart raced gave you away.

“You’re an idiot.” But you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“And yet, you can’t resist me.” His tone was cocky, but there was something softer in his gaze, something that made you forget why you were even upset in the first place.

You gave him a small shove on his chest, though you didn’t make much effort to pull away from his arms.

“Next time I see you talking to Hollis or any other “real estate agent,” you said, emphasizing the words with a slightly mocking tone, “you better remember who I am.”

Rafe let out a low, charmingly husky laugh as he nodded.

“Believe me, baby, there’s no one at this party, or on this island, who could ever make me forget who you are to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of showing it, you simply lifted your chin and looked at him with a satisfied smile.

“You better not. Because I’m not good at sharing.”

He looked at you as if you were confirming something he already knew, and before you could say anything else, he kissed you again, this time softer, as if he wanted to erase any trace of doubt from your mind. And as you got lost in that moment, you knew that, no matter how chaotic things were with Rafe, he would always have the power to undo you with just one kiss.

[weakformingyu]

Another Love | Part 6

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Genre: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 8,416

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Warnings: angst, hickeys, unprotected piv(don't do this at home), dirty talk(I think that's it)

A/N: I'm finally here with the last part of Another Love. This fic means the whole world to me, it's the story that made me grow a lot as a writer and was the first story that I thought "woah this is really good" when I finished the first part. I hope you all like this last part, I poured my whole heart in this and I really want you all to feel what I tried to convey with my words. Thank you for all the comments, reblogs and feedback, that's what made me motivated to finish this fic.

Also, I wanna thank my best friend @baby-yongbok for bearing my whines and rumbles about this story. Thank you baby for helping me through the difficult times 🫶🏻

You may have regretted telling Han that you would give him a chance. How soon? As soon as the sentence left your mouth. Why? Because now, you are going to have to face all the demons you kept inside of you for all these years.

While having an unrequited love, you had a motto: if you don’t get too delusional, it's going to hurt less. So every single time, when your mind started wandering through those dirty thoughts, you made sure to stop yourself. However, now it’s not a one sided love anymore and you’re honestly afraid of what that means. The furthest thing you thought about doing with Jisung, was a kiss and even that left you hot and bothered. Now, you are thinking about other things, like having sex and that’s something you never did before for the sake of your sanity.

It doesn’t help that Jisung is a menace and surprisingly you didn't know about it. 15 years of friendship and just about now did you find out that this man has no shame.

Things were going pretty normal, he had been treating you like always so things didn't seem to have changed much and that gave you some peace of mind, afterall, he was always affectionate to you.

However, little by little, you started noticing some things. Like, walking around the house shirtless like he wants you to look and unsurprisingly that’s exactly what you do. Every fucking time, you feel like you'll explode and in your defense, it's really, really hard not to look. He shows up wearing nothing but sweatpants and you try with all your willpower to look anywhere but him but in the end you can't help but look. Honestly, it's impossible and you know he's doing it on purpose because you get glimpses of his condescending smile whenever he catches you watching. You wish you could punch him in the face but then he’ll know he has won and you can’t let that happen.

Jisung is trying to prove a point, is it risky? Yes, but he's not entirely confident about winning you over. Even though you said you would give him a chance, every time he tries to get close to you it seems like you push him away and that scares him, he’s afraid you will change your mind and he can’t have that. So he’s trying to show you that he’s the full package.

He's good to you and funny but that you already knew, you have been friends for a long time. So he wants to show you a new side of him, something you only get to see from a boyfriend.

After days of hesitation, one night he finally makes his move. You’re in the kitchen, trying to get something on the top shelf but you can't seem to reach it. Jisung sees that and a brilliant idea pops on his head, you can only hear his footsteps coming behind you and in the split of a second, you feel the warmth of his body almost touching yours when he leans over you to get the bowls you wanted.

That’s the moment you lose your mind, years of restraint ending in a simple touch of his. Actually, the fact that he’s not even touching you makes everything worse.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, not turning around to look at him.

“Helping you, what else?” He answers, voice shaking a bit with the proximity. You can feel his breathing on the top of your head.

“I didn’t ask for help”, you clarify, not to sound rude but just trying to control yourself.

Unexpectedly, you feel his hands lightly holding your hips and in a quick move he turns you around, caging you against the kitchen cabinet and you release a shaky breath, heart beating like a hammer on your chest.

“You’re pushing me away”, he points out, “I won’t be able to win you over if you don’t let me”

You stare at him for a minute, he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, making you sigh.

“I’m sorry, I just have to get used to it”, you say, “I thought you would never like me so this change is kinda overwhelming”, you clarify.

“Shall we go on a date, then?” He proposes, taking a step back, looking at you hopefully. You nod, earning a big smile from him. “Okay, be ready tomorrow at 8 am”, he tells you, making you frown.

“What are we gonna do so early in the morning?” You ask, confused, making him shrug.

“It's a surprise”, he says, “but I can tell you that you should dress comfortably”

That's all he says, turning around and leaving you alone in the kitchen. Why does it seem like you just fell right into his trap? Like he already had everything planned and you acted exactly how he wanted you to?

There's nothing much you can do now since you already accepted the date, so you forget about what you wanted to do in the kitchen and go to your room, preparing a handbag with anything you'll possibly need.

He's up before you, waiting with breakfast and a warm cup of coffee. While you two eat you just know he's dying to tell you where you're going but he also doesn't want to ruin the surprise.

You realize it's going to be a trip when he drives out of the city, giving you the task of taking care of the playlist. You scroll through his songs, some from the boys, some from the artists he likes, you add some that you like, until you see the seaside.

“Are we going to the beach?” You ask, eyes sparkling. You missed this place so much.

“We are”, he smiles, stretching his hand to grab yours, interlacing your fingers. You feel your face hot, sure that you're blushing but you glance at him, seeing Jisung stare at the road with that shit eating grin on his lips.

“Don’t you think you're being too much?” You ask, trying to hide the smile that's trying to escape your lips.

“Not really”, he shrugs.

You and Jisung would always come to the beach when you were younger, it would be usually on your vacation but when you two were feeling down or something upsetting happened, you'd catch a bus and come here. You'd just sit in the sand, watching as the waves came and went, as the ocean reflected the color of the sky. It didn’t matter if it was winter or summer, that was always the place to make you feel better.

Jisung parks in front of a restaurant, inviting you to come out to eat and you look around, seeing how much it has changed since the last time you went there. When you moved to Seoul for school, you stopped traveling farther than your parents house. Even though you didn’t really need to save money because your family always supported you, you like to have savings for an emergency, so you had to give up on luxuries like traveling too far. Also, as you got older it became more difficult to stay close to your best friend in a place that was meant for just the two of you, every time you would go to the beach with him, you’d feel the urge to confess and that couldn’t happen, you were not ready yet. So you spent the last few years avoiding coming to your favorite place.

You were planning to come alone one day, when you had gotten over Jisung but life seems to be playing with you and now you’re there with the man you love and he’s the one holding himself not to confess to you right then and there. Not because it’s a secret, but because he doesn’t want to pressure you more than he already feels like he’s doing.

“I can’t believe we came all this way to eat spicy fried chicken”, he tells you as soon as you order your favorite.

“Stop”, you pout, “you know this place has the best chicken wings in the entire planet”

“Have you ever tried all the chicken wings on the planet?” He teases, making you roll your eyes.

“I don’t need to, I just know this one is the best”, you argue back, crossing your arms.

He stares at you with an idiotic smile, biting on his bottom lip trying not to laugh at you.

“Maybe on our next tour you can come with us?” he says, feeling his face warming up, “I’ll accept your opinion only after you try the fried chicken from two other countries”

Jisung looks around, trying to hide his blushing or his pout, anxiously waiting for your answer but you can see his ears as red as tomatoes.

“Maybe”, that’s the only thing you say, holding yourself from giggling.

You and Jisung take a walk when you finish your food, needing some exercise after eating too much. You take your sneakers off, feeling the sand hugging your feet and the cold water making you shiver when the waves finally get to you.

“Remember when I had to go on tour for the first time?” Jisung asks, glancing at you and you nod. “You got so upset that I would go away for an entire month, that you disappeared, your mom wanted to kill you”, he chuckles and you sigh, remembering that time.

You were 20 and had barely settled down in Seoul when he had to go away. You were upset that you would have to stay all by yourself since classes had already started but you pretended like everything was alright.

“I didn’t really disappear, that’s an exaggeration”, you scoff, “I just forgot to mention that I wouldn’t come home that night”

“Well, that sounds like disappearing to me”, he argues back, “and it did to our parents too”

“The point?” You try changing the subject, not really wanting to admit that you were in the wrong.

“The point is, that I found you seated on that rock right there”, he points to the place you were walking to. “You were a mess, you cried and were already sick because you didn’t bring a coat and it was already night”, he scolds you, making you roll your eyes.

“And?” You push again, starting to feel guilty again about that day.

“I should have realized your feelings for me sooner”, Jisung bites on his bottom lip, fidgeting with his hands. “Everyone but me knew and you had to struggle on your own. I’m sorry”

You feel tears brimming on your eyes, you don’t want him to pity you.

“I never wanted an apology from you”, you explain, “I was always aware that you didn’t have to like me back. It was not fair of me to expect you to feel something you didn’t. That’s why I never told you… I mean, until I couldn’t hold it back anymore”, you chuckle awkwardly. “Even if you had never liked me back, I wouldn’t want you to apologize to me”

Jisung pouts, nodding in agreement.

“But I’m not apologizing for not liking you back”, he say, “I’m apologizing because you struggled because of me and if I had realized it sooner maybe you wouldn’t have had to-”

“And maybe you wouldn’t have fallen in love with me too”, you blurt out, hand flying to your mouth as soon as the sentence left your mouth, making a big smile show up in his lips.

“Am I hearing this correctly?” He teases, seeing you blush. “Did you just admit that you are satisfied that I’m the one in love now?”

“Why, of course”, you bite back a smile. “You deserve a bit of a punishment for dating so much in your life”, you shake your head in disapproval.

“There’s nothing wrong with falling in love”, he teases, laughing when you roll your eyes.

He’s right, you were in love with him for a long time and there’s nothing wrong with that. However, for some reason, that makes your heart ache and an awful thought appears in your mind, making you stop on your tracks, glancing at him and staring for a whole minute before speaking up again.

“For how long are you going to be in love with me though?” You ask, letting your insecurities speak but you can’t help but think about that. “Your relationships didn’t last that long, are you sure you won’t just fall out of love with me in a bit?”

That makes his smile disappear, his brows knit together in a frown, pure confusion on his complexion.

“I- you’re different”, he says like it is the simplest thing in the world.

“What’s so different about me?” You push, trying to understand him, trying to look for some reassurance.

“I don’t think I ever felt like this for anyone before”, he explains. “I was never the jealous type, but when I saw you with Jeongho I wanted to explode and my chest hurt so much. I think of you every minute of the day, I was never like this before. I want to show you places, I want to take you to eat different foods and see your reaction when you taste them. You know you’re just like Hyunjin right? You do that face when you eat something delicious”, he smiles, “I want to be the one to make you smile and I want to be the one who’s there when you need to cry. I want to be your best friend, but I don’t want to be just your best friend, I want to have it all. All of you”

You feel like all the air from your body just decided to come out, you can’t breathe and at the same time you feel like you’re breathing too much — too fast, but when you see his dark eyes watching you, waiting for you to say something — anything, its like your body move on its on and in the split of a second your lips are on his.

You always dreamed about kissing Jisung. You always imagined how it would be to kiss him. But not even your greatest dreams came close to reality. His lips are soft just like cotton and warm like the hot chocolate you drink on a cold day. His body pressed against yours is something you never thought you needed but now that you have it it's something you don’t think you can let go.

His hands cup your face, fingers digging on your skin like you’re going to run away if he holds you with less strength. He’s shy, just pressing his lips against yours, until it's too much for him to handle and his tongue comes into your mouth, making you sigh. Jisung's hands trail gentle caresses down your arms, leaving a trail of warmth behind and sliding around your waist and pressing himself more against you.

You are completely lost in his lips, not sure what to do next, it's like it's your first time kissing someone. You grab his shirt, trying to get a hold on something, trying not to fall because your legs are almost giving out and your chest feels like exploding. When you two need to breathe, he pulls away from you, looking at you breathlessly, waiting for you to explain yourself or at least give him another kiss. But when he sees doubt in your eyes, he hugs you, squeezing you against him again.

“Please, don’t run away now”, he pleads. “I don’t think I can handle it, not after this”

“Jisung, I-”, you hesitate, trying to say the right thing.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now”, he assures you. “I won’t expect anything from you until you are sure about your decision, so don’t worry about it”, he says.

“Okay”, you nod.

The fact that it seems like your feelings didn’t change at all, scares you. How could you try so hard to get over him but still feel the same? If he hadn’t come around to like you, would you have struggled your whole life with your unrequited love? It didn’t happen but the ‘what if’ is haunting you and you can’t give him an answer until this feeling goes away.

The trip back home is quiet, not as awkward as you thought it would be but Jisung seems lost in thoughts and you are not very different. You don’t know why you keep letting all these intrusive thoughts win over your mind, if it was before your confession, you’d jump in his arms at the mere mention of him liking you back, so why is it so different now? Why are you so hesitant?

“Do you want pizza?” He asks, as soon as you enter Seoul again.

“Yeah”, you nod, looking at him.

Jisung changed too, he’s treating you the same as he always did but it seems different somehow, you just can’t quite grasp what changed. He looks more mature, like something switched inside of him and that makes you a bit nervous. You’re not so familiar with this Jisung, you can’t predict what he’s gonna do next or what he’s thinking. Your best friend doesn’t look just like your best friend anymore and maybe that’s the whole point. If things stayed the same would it feel like you were dating? Would you understand that you don’t have to hide your feelings anymore? That you can kiss him and be jealous of him? If things stayed the same, would you let yourself love him freely?

“So she kissed you”, Chan points out, eyes squeezed, trying to make sense of the situation, “and she hasn’t talked about it since?”

“Yeah”, Jisung pouts, “but in her defense, I told her I didn’t need an answer immediately”

“And that was your mistake”, Hyunjin says, “you have anxiety, you always need answers immediately”

“Well, you’re not wrong”, Jisung sighs, “but I didn’t want her to feel pressured. Especially since it looked like she was about to run away if I said anything abrupt”.

“I guess she’s just confused”, Chan tries to help, “but the fact that she kissed you is a good sign”

“You think so?” Jisung looks at his older friend with puppy eyes, hopeful.

“Yeah, of course”, Chan chuckles.

“You know what?” Changbin comes in from the kitchen, he’s been listening to the whole story but didn’t say a thing until now. “You should do something romantic for her”

“Like what?” Jisung asks.

“Think about something that would be touching, something that has to do with your story together”, Chan advises, making the youngest think.

Jisung frowns, there's something that comes to mind but would you like that? Until now, he has tried to be subtle in his ways of approaching you. He wakes up earlier than you everyday and makes you eat before you go to class. He's always home when you come back at night, waiting with snacks and a movie for you two to watch together. You have been discovering a new side of him, even though you thought you knew everything about your best friend, but now Jisung watches you with heart eyes.

Would you like it if he was more romantic? He’s not even sure if you’re into that kind of thing, the boyfriends you had never made big gestures like that and you didn’t seem to care. Would you like it if it's him doing it? Well, it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Okay, I think I know what to do”, Jisung decides.

You still haven't given an answer to Jisung and that's making you feel bad, what's holding you right now? You know he likes you, but what if things don't work out, will you be able to keep being friends after all that?

To take your mind out of that for a bit, you finally graduate, after what it felt like ages. You poured all your blood, sweat and tears in the years that you spent in college, now you're finally free.

Jisung's parents and yours came to the city for your graduation celebration. You organized a dinner in a good restaurant and the night was so much fun, you laughed till your stomach hurt and your friends brought up all your embarrassing stories through all the years you spent in college.

The morning after you had trouble even opening your eyes, any light was too much and your eyes refused to open. You hear a few knocks on the door of your room, making you groan, telling the person — Jisung probably, to enter.

“You should get ready”, he says, making you frown, eyes still closed. “Don't pretend that you're still sleeping, it's afternoon”, he whines.

“I'm not pretending, my eyes can't take this much light”, you explain, you shouldn't have drank so much.

Jisung walks past you, going to the window and closing the blinds.

“Now you have no excuses”, he teases, watching as you flutter your eyes open slowly.

“Why do I need to get ready, though?” You ask, sitting down.

“We are going out”

“We are?”

“Yes, so get ready”, he informs you, walking past you in the direction of the door and leaving with no further explanation. What's this guy planning now?

You get up, grab a towel and a change of clothes and go to take a shower, knowing that arguing won't take you anywhere.

Jisung is waiting for you in the car, a cup of coffee and a sandwich waiting for you.

“Shall we?” He asks, turning on the engine when you enter the car and close the door.

“Couldn't we have had breakfast inside?” You ask, biting on the sandwich.

“It's not a breakfast if it's already afternoon”, he rolls his eyes, “I ate a long time ago and we are already late”

“Late for what?” You enquiry, sipping on the coffee.

“It's a surprise”, he grins, eyes focused on the road.

You sigh, knowing that he won't tell you, so you just finish eating while watching the scenario change, buildings turning into threes and farms.

“Don't you know how to plan dates in the city?” You ask, making him laugh.

“I do, but I wanted to do something specific on this date and I had a bit of trouble finding it”, he tells you.

The sun is already starting to set when Jisung parks in front of a school, making you from, what kind of date is this? You ask, trying to understand, until you see a crowd.

You get out, walking by yourself while Jisung locks the car, hearing his footsteps after you a few seconds later.

“What's this?” You ask, when you see the booths spread around the campus and the families and students walking around.

“A school festival”, he smiles, watching as you turn to look at him, confusion in your face. “A little bird told me that you found out about your feelings for me right around the time I took Haneul to the school festival on elementary school”, he bites on his bottom lip, “and you were there to witness my first date, even though you liked me”, he sighs, “so I thought that maybe I could make it up for that time by bringing you to a school festival, just me and you”, he explains, making your heart skip a bit. You never thought Jisung could be this romantic, you never knew you liked this kind of romantic stuff either, but the way your heart is beating makes you think that you do.

“I- Jisung I-”, you try to say but you can't form a coherent sentence, making him smile.

“Let's go, I got a lot of prizes to win for you”, he informs, stretching his hand in your direction so you can hold it and you do, you hold his hand without a second thought, ignoring his red ears and how hot your cheeks are.

You walk around the place, going to every booth, watching the performances and eating to your heart's content. Jisung is giving you food like his life depends on it, it's a mission of his to make you eat everything you set your eyes on and when you can't finish he does it for you, but he wants you to try everything.

“How are we supposed to carry all this?” You ask, arms full of the plushies he earned you.

“Like we are doing right now”, he answers, as if he has not been dropping the ones he's carrying all the time.

“You know the children must hate you, right?”

“It's not my fault if I have the power of love to help me win the big prizes”, he winks at you, making you feel your cheeks hot.

“Let's go, it's already late”, you tell him, walking faster in the direction of the car so Jisung won't notice how flustered you got.

You stuff the plushies in the backseat, feeling a few drops of rain fall on your face when you close the door, making you run to the passenger seat to escape. Jisung comes right after you, starting the car and driving back to the road.

“Can you check the forecast? I did it in the morning and there was nothing about rain”, he asks, the rain outside getting stronger.

“Sure”, you take your phone out of your pocket, searching for news about the weather. “It seems like it's one of those rains that start out of nowhere”, you explain, “and it's not going to stop any time soon”, you watch the dark road, little to no lighting.

“Should we look for a hotel, then?” Jisung asks, making you turn to him with wide eyes. “Hey! Don't get any weird ideas, we are going to separate rooms”, he informs you, covering his chest like you have the dirtiest mind.

“I didn't say anything”, you retort, crossing your arms.

“Hmph, but you thought”, he murmurs. “Can you look for a place nearby?” He asks but you were already doing that.

There's a nice hotel a few minutes from where you are and when you call them, they tell you there are rooms available but when you get there things are different.

“So… they only have a room”, you say, fidgeting.

“It's fine, I can sleep on the floor”, he shrugs, pressing for the elevator to come to you.

“Actually there are separate beds, so there's no need”, you chuckle, seeing his ears turning red.

“Great, that's great. My back appreciates it”, he rumbles, flustered like an idiot making you laugh.

The rain seems to get worse outside, now adding thunder and lightning to the chaos. The room is comfortable and clean, there's a bathroom and a minibar so you can eat something.

You take your coat, throwing it in one of the beds and walk to the window, closing the blinds and shivering watching the lightning outside. Jisung opens the fridge, looking inside to see if there’s anything interesting to eat and grabbing a bottle of water.

“Do you want it?” He asks, making you turn to look at him and nod, waiting as he walks to you, handing you the bottle.

“I think we should get to sleep soon, so we can go back early tomorrow”, you say, gulping the water and Han nods, finishing his.

You two get on your beds, it's weird to sleep in the same room as him after so long. You turn your back to him, hoping that not seeing his face is going to make it easier for you to sleep.

However, a thunder rumbles so loudly sounding like it's right by your room's window, making you jump.

“Jeez”, you squeal, covering your face with the blanket.

“Are you alright?” Jisung's voice sounds behind you, making you turn to look at him. He's staring at you, brows knit together in worry.

“I'm fine”, you tell him, even though you're not so sure.

“I know you're afraid of storms”, he sighs, biting on his bottom lip. “Do you want me to lay down with you? So you won't be so scared?”

You feel heat spreading all over you just by thinking about sleeping in the same bed as Jisung. You slept together a hundred times before so it shouldn't be so embarrassing to do it once more, but you're not sure if you're going to be able to behave if you go there.

“There's no need”, you tell him, closing your eyes and trying to fall asleep when another thunder sounds out there, seeming so much louder than before and making you jump again. “You know what? I think I'll accept your offer”, you say, watching as Jisung sits down, grabbing his pillow and blanket, standing up to move to your bed. He lays down so far from you that he's almost falling from the mattress.

“I won't bite you”, you roll your eyes, turning to look at him, facing the middle of the bed.

“I wouldn't mind if you did”, he chuckles, “I just don't want to make you uncomfortable”, he says and even with the darkness of the room, you can see his cheeks reddening when he gets closer.

“You won't make me uncomfortable, it's okay”, you put your arm down your pillow and the other one on top, your hand beneath your head, watching as Jisung fidgets, trying to find a good position without touching you. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” You enquiry, seeing as his eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically.

“Not at all, you're the person whom I feel the most comfortable with”, he confesses, making your cheeks burn and something more spread through your whole body.

Maybe things need to change. What then, if things don't workout? If you were going to think that way, you should have never confessed to your best friend in the first place. You decided to risk it all when you told him about your feelings and now he's the one pouring himself to you, waiting for you to choose him once more.

“If I asked you to kiss me now, would you?” You ask, gulping down, trying to stay calm even though your heart just turned into a hammer in your chest.

“Can I?” He asks, hopeful, watching as you nod slowly. His hands cup your face and in the split of a second his lips are on yours, his fingers caress your cheeks delicately and he holds you like you're the most fragile thing in the whole world.

This kiss is so much better, kissing him while being certain about what you're feeling is delightful. His kiss is still soft and sweet, yearning and hungry as if he's been waiting for this for a long time.

You slide your hands down his shirt, going to his back and digging your nails on his skin. He sighs on your lips, letting a little groan escape his mouth. Jisung's hands go down from your face too, sliding to your waist and hips to pull you closer to him, pressing your body against his.

When you two find it too difficult to breathe, he pulls away from you, trailing kisses down your jaw and your neck, biting on your soft skin, making you moan. Your eyes widen in embarrassment but Jisung looks at you with dark eyes, licking on his lips.

“You sound so good, please don't hold back”, he pleads, going back to marking you. “Can I take it off?” He asks, grabbing the hem of your shirt, making your whole face burn as you nod, sitting down so he can pull the piece of fabric out of your body. He watches as your chest rises and falls, you lay back down, looking around extremely flustered but he can't take his eyes out of you. You're the prettiest woman he ever got to know and he's so in love with you that it feels like his heart is about to explode.

Jisung leans closer to your face, kissing you again as you let your hands wander through his body, sliding them to his hips and digging your nails on his skin, pulling him against you, feeling his length pressing on your thigh.

“You're so pretty”, he sings praises as he kisses down your collarbone, reaching your breast and his hands go to your back, undoing your bra.

“Stop staring”, you feel your cheeks burning with the way his eyes wander through your chest.

“I can't, you're too beautiful”, he answers, leaning down do suck on your hardened peaks.

“Ji-Jisung”, your hands fly to his hair as you press him against your breasts, “that's so good”, you sigh, feeling his tongue circling around your nipple.

Jisung starts humping against your clothed core, making you gasp and groan as your hands cup his face, bringing him back to kiss you. He doesn't stop the movements of his hips, rubbing his hard cock and sighing on your lips.

“Can I eat you out?” He asks, biting on your bottom lip as he pulls away from you.

His eyes are dark like you have never seen, like he's in a daze but the reality is that Jisung is too drunk on your scent and your warmth to think about how lustful he may look at that moment.

“How much do you want it?” You tease, making him sigh, looking at you with puppy eyes, his hands going to the waistband of your pants, pulling it slightly away from your hips and playing with it, wanting to pull it down but waiting for your permission.

“I want to taste you so bad, you have no idea”, he bites on his bottom lip, “I feel like I might die if I don't feel your pussy clenching around my tongue right now”, he pleads, making your hips involuntarily thrust against his shaft, making him groan, “fuck. This is torture, please let me taste you, please”, he begs.

“I like it when you beg”, you try to pretend you're not dying to have his mouth down on you, “go ahead”

In a second Jisung is pulling your pants down, your panties going with it, he has no time to waste. He rushes to fit in between your legs, setting them over his shoulders as he kisses your inner thighs, trailing kisses closer and closer to your aching cunt.

“I can feel the scent of your arousal”, he teases, taking a deep breath, “You smell so good, baby”, he completes, making you groan in embarrassment.

“What are you, a dog?” You retort, trying to ignore the burning on your face.

“Only for you”, he grins before diving in on your pussy. Jisung attaches his mouth to your clit, the warmth of his tongue spreading all over your body and you lead your hands to his hair again, pressing him against your core. His fingers dig on your thighs like he wants to mark you, putting more strength on the way his face sticks between your legs.

“Jisung- fuck, Sungie”, you whine feeling his arm moving, his finger being inserted inside your folds. He thrust them in and out, eyes closed as he enjoys your taste, the way your juices spill all over the bed sheets, he wants every bit of it in his mouth but there's just too much, he can't have it all. It's okay though, he's planning to lick you clean everyday from now on, every time he makes you come on his tongue, he's not going to let any of your juices go to waste.

He puts another finger inside you, finally opening his eyes when he feels your walls fluttering around his knuckles.

“Fuck, are you gonna cum baby?” He asks, the look of pleasure in your face is so much that he has to hump against the bed to get some relief, his cock is throbbing so much, he feels he can cum just by looking at you.

“Y-hmm”, you are unable to form a whole word, the feeling spreading all over your body is too overwhelming, it's making you dazed and you can't think properly but you nod to him, hoping Jisung can understand that he shouldn't stop, not right now.

“Shit, y/n, come for me, please, I want to taste you coming on my tongue”, he tells you, going back to licking your cunt. He can feel the moment you cum, not just because you moan so loudly he thinks the other people on that floor can hear it but because your hole gets tighter around his fingers. You arch your back, hands going to the sheets as you grab them for dear life.

As you come down from your high, you're embarrassed to open your eyes. You never thought Jisung was one to do the whole dirty talking thing but if you think about it, there are quite a couple of things you didn't know about him.

You feel his kisses coming up your stomach, forcing you to open your eyes, you prop up on your elbows, watching him sneaking closer to you.

“Was it good?” He asks and you feel your whole face burning again but you nod anyways, feeling breathless when he smiles brightly, ears turning red.

You're ready to ask something but the huge bulge in his pants makes you gulp, staring for a second until his eyes follow yours and he blushes, turning with his stomach down so he can hide that part from you.

“Can I suck you off too?” You ask, licking your lips, suddenly eager to feel him coming on your mouth.

“I- I really want you to”, he clears his throat, looking around embarrassed, “but I don't think I'm gonna last long if I feel your pretty lips around me”, he says, making a huge smile grow on your lips.

“I never thought you'd be such a sweet talker in bed”, you confess, still squirming to his words.

Jisung smiles, leaning closer to you know, his chest pressed against yours and his length brushing on your leg.

“So, did you thought about how it would feel like if I fucked you?” His eyes darken again.

“I mean, lately you have been showing too much skin, it would be impossible for me not to have any dirty thoughts”, you confess.

“Fuck”, he groans, “do you want to keep goin?” He asks, kissing your neck, going up to your jaw and then your lips, “I don't have a condom but I'm sure we can make it work without putting it in”, he stares at you expectantly.

You feel the warmth on your lower stomach spread to all your body, shouldn't you feel less turned on now that you came?

“I- I'm on the pill, so…” you start saying and his eyes widen to your suggestion.

“Are you sure, it's okay if we don't-”

“I want to”, you assure him, “I want to feel all of you inside me, you have no idea how much I want to”, you plead and Jisung breathes a laugh, he's glad to see you're as desperate as he is.

“Okay”, he nods, “but if you want to stop at any time just tell me”, he says as he gets up from the bed to take his pants and underwear off.

When Jisung cock springs out of his underwear, hitting his stomach, you can't hold the moan that escapes your lips as you watch how painfully hard he is. He crawls back to your side, letting his hand rest on your stomach as he kisses you again.

“Do you have a position you want to be in?” He asks, shyly, as if you both are not fully naked in front of each other.

“I'd like to stay on top if it's okay”, you whisper and he nods.

“Yeah, I'd love that”, he says, laying down after giving you a peck on the lips. You take a deep breath before kissing him too, mouth trailing down his jaw and neck. You mark him, giving him hickeys all around his chest.

Jisung cups your face, bringing your lips to his as you throw a leg over his hip, rubbing your wet folds on the length of his cock, that small stimulation making you moan.

“Shit, you're so hot”, he whines, biting on his bottom lip as he stares at you. You chuckle, grabbing his shaft and positioning it on your entrance, closing your eyes and sighing to the mere pressure of his head splitting your foulds in a half. You sink down on his cock, moaning loudly, feeling him stretching you out perfectly.

“Oh- oh, this is so good, fuck”, you whine, letting yourself get used to the feeling.

“You're so tight”, he groans, hands going straight to your hips, digging his fingers on the flesh. “It feels so good inside you”

Jisung closes his eyes, overwhelmed with you, it's too much, your warmth is hugging him, making him whine and groan like an animal. But he wants you to feel as good as he's feeling, so he takes one of his hands from your hip to your mouth, brushing his middle and index fingers on your lips.

“Suck on them, baby”, he asks, making you moan and do as you're told. Jisung grins, taking his hand down to your core and pressing them on your clit, making circles around the puffy bud.

“Ah- Sungie, that's- that's too much”, you whine riding him slowly, feeling your orgasm growing at each passing second. The knot on your stomach ready to burst when you feel his cock throbbing inside you, making you open your eyes to look at him.

He's stunning even coming undone beneath you, Jisung has his lips partially open, his hair stuck on his sweaty forehead and his moans are just like music to your years, the prettiest sound he ever made and it's just yours now, it's just for you to hear it.

“I'm gonna come! Y/n, I'm gonna come”, he warns you so you can get off him if you want to but you sink deeper, causing him to reach his orgasm, spilling his hot cum inside you. You follow him shortly when he puts more pressure on your clit while he's coming, making you tremble and moan as you spasm with pleasure.

You fall down on his chest, feeling Jisung's arms wrap around you as he gently lays you down by his side. He pulls the blanket to cover you and gives you a kiss on the top of your head as he watches you blinking into sleep.

Jisung wakes up to an empty bed. His hand wanders through the sheets, searching for your warm body to snuggle in as he opens his eyes but he finds nothing, just a cold space.

He sits on the bed to look around, trying to find you but you're nowhere to be seen and suddenly dread takes over him. Did you go home? Did you leave him behind? Did you regret spending the night with him?

Those thoughts break his heart, he looks around once more just to make sure he's not mistaken and you're actually there with him. He gets up, putting on sweatpants and walking to the bathroom. He knocks a few times, hoping that you're there, that you're going to tell him to wait because you're in there but no sound comes back to him and when he opens the door the space is empty.

Jisung sits down on the edge of the bathtub, he wants to cry. He shouldn't have expected you to stay with him just because you spent one night together, he should have known that, but why does it hurt so much? Why does he feel like a part of his heart was ripped out?

He sighs, guessing this is your answer to his confession. Could you still be friends after what happened last night? He can't be sure. He goes around the room, collecting the rest of his things and finishing getting dressed, couldn't you have waited for him? The keys are still on the table, so how did you go home without the car?

When he's grabbing said keys though, the room's door swings open, welcoming in a very sweaty you.

“Ah, you're up?” You pout, “I thought I would be able to come back before you woke up”, you smile. How can you smile like that when you just broke his heart? How could you have disappeared?

“You came back?” He asks, arms falling limp by his sides. He stares at you with the eyes of a wounded puppy and that's when you know you did something you shouldn't.

“Yeah? You thought I left you?” You tease, trying to be funny but when he sulks, eyes growing glossy, it sinks in. “You did”, you come to the conclusion, closing the door behind you.

You walk to Jisung, putting the bag you have in your hands on the table.

“I went to buy breakfast but it turns out there aren't many places that sell decent food around here”, you explain, “it ended up taking more time than it was supposed to, I should have left a note. I'm sorry”

“I thought you had decided that you didn't want to stay with me”, Jisung whines, “that after last night you found out that I'm not enough for you anymore. That I really ruined everything”, he cries out, a single tear running down his cheek.

“Jisung, of course I wouldn't leave you behind even if I had decided I didn't want to date you”, you tell him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, trying to give him some reassurance.

“I was even preparing a speech in my head”, he pouts, “about how even if we don't date I'd still see you the same way. I'd be by your side forever even if it's not romantically, I'd be happy to watch you live your life, even if it's with someone else as long as you were happy”, he tells you. “Your love was already something I couldn't reach so I'm grateful that you gave me the chance to show you how much I love you”

“So you're going to be happy even if I marry someone else?” You question, making him sulk even more.

“I won't be happy but if you're that's enough for me”

“But I wouldn't want my boyfriend to be happy that I'm marrying someone else”, you tell him, smiling slightly as you watch the sentence you just said sink in on him and the sparkling grow in his eyes.

“Bo-boyfriend?” He asks, hesitant.

“Of course, or did you think I'd smash then dash?” You chuckle, his cheeks turn red and he pouts pulling you closer with the hand you have holding yours.

“So you love me back, right?” He questions, making you smile, nodding.

“I do”

“‘Cause I love you so much it feels like my heart is about to burst”, he says, putting your hand on his chest, his heart beating like crazy, making you smile. “Then, do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Ye-”, his lips are on yours before you can finish the sentence, making you sigh, just forgetting about the breakfast and also to check out, calling the reception and updating your stay for another half day.

When you show up at Jeongin’s birthday holding hands and looking lovey dovey, everyone sighs relieved and you have to hear Minho’s and Seungmin's sarcastic ass saying “finally” and “I thought I would die before you two would finally fuck”, respectively.

Your daily life with Jisung went about almost the same as before, except that now you'd basically share the same room, you'd rarely sleep in yours. You make food and take it to the company when he's too busy, sometimes you even stay there till late in the night, waiting for him to finish recording so he can come home with you and cuddle in bed until you two fall asleep.

Your parents don't make a big deal about it, you swore your father would make you move to another place after the news came out but he just sighed, telling you that he knew this would happen someday and that he's happy you are dating someone as good as Jisung.

A few months go by and your relationship is still going smoothly. Of course you have some arguments here and there but nothing that you can't fix with a conversation.

You accepted the proposal of the guys to go touring with them and that's how you ended up in their dressing room, waiting for them to get back there after their last show on the tour.

The door opens and you hear the boys' loud voices coming in, greeting them and telling how nice the show was.

“You see how hard your future husband works?” Jisung brags, walking up to you and pulling you aside. He wraps his arms around you and you feel your cheeks burn, you still feel flustered to hear him saying this kind of thing.

“Future husband?” You tease, giggling as he pouts, frowning.

“Yeah, or do you let any man do this to you?” He pulls you closer and gives you a peck on the lips.

“Maybe?” You tease, making him stare at you with his brows raised, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“It seems like you need some punishment”, he sighs, looking at his hands before attaching them to your stomach, tickling you.

“Stop!” You scream, laughing and trying to get away from him.

“Say you're only mine”, he pouts, tickling you even more.

“Jisung, I'm gonna kill you”, you struggle to say between giggles.

“I'll die happily if you say I'm the only one for you”, he pushes, pressing his fingers even harder against your stomach.

“Okay, alright”, you give in, making him stop to look at you. “You are the only one for me and I'm all yours, happy?” You roll your eyes, watching his pout turning into a big smile.

“Say it one more time”, he whines.

“I love you”, you say, making Jisung stare at you for a moment, before his cheeks start turning pink.

“I'll never get tired of hearing that”, he smiles, holding your hand and bringing it to his mouth for him to kiss. “I love you”, he says, leaning in for a kiss, the sweetest you have ever shared.

A/N: If you like my work, please don't forget to reblog, it really helps my stories reach new people so more readers can come to enjoy what I write.

If you want to support me you can also buy me a coffee ☕

Taglist(in red are the ones I couldn't tag): @hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @starsandrqindrops @itshannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98 @blithevix @astro-doll-the-star @captainchrisstan @rag-iii @notastraykid @jisunghannie @applepie-macaroon @stayingdelulu @sundayysunshine @kidrauhlschik @wolfennracha @meloncremesoda @hanschimpmunk @realrintaro @teejisung @maexc @gyustarzzi @ivaneedssleep @chaeryred @daemon-bunny @broken-glowsticks @ch4nniebang @sleepyleeji @seukijeuxq @luvbangchan @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @castielsfrillywhiteknickers @armystaytiny @literallyjustwanttoread @jungkookies1002 @diorggukie @channieandhisgoonsquad @mamabymychem @ladylexis @bmnyy

[mercillery]

CROSS GUILD WITH A CHILD READER

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD + I MOSTLY TALK ABOUT BUGGY OOPS

NOTES: A clown, a swordsman, and a sandman. My favorite trio. Everything written here is so random, so please buckle up. 🫨

You've got Crocodile and Mihawk, both big shots in their own right, and they've got a ton of stuff going on, right? They're busy dealing with all sorts of important things, and suddenly, you come into the picture needing someone to look after you. Now, it's not that they don't care about you or anything, but they're not exactly equipped to handle a kid at the moment. So, what do they do? They look around and think, "Hey, who can we pawn this kid off to?" And guess who they settle on? Buggy. They're both kind of on the same page about Buggy being, well, pretty useless most of the time. But hey, he can at least handle babysitting duty, right? It's like the least he can do to make himself a bit more tolerable to Mihawk and Crocodile. And eventually, you end up in Buggy's care, and who knows, maybe he surprises everyone by not completely messing it up. It's like a little test for him to see if he can step up and actually contribute something meaningful to the Cross Guild, while also maybe earning a bit of respect from the big bosses themselves—Crocodile and Mihawk. Plus, it might even help smooth things over between them all, make things a bit less tense in the Cross Guild. It's kind of like Buggy's chance to step up and show he's not totally useless after all.

Spoiler alert: Buggy is, in fact, useless, even when it comes to babysitting.

While under Buggy’s care, think of that one audio that goes like, “You want a beer?” “He’s four!” “I DONT KNOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HIM?!” Buggy is the one offering you a beer, and it’s probably Alvida scolding him for offering you a beer. He’s trying, okay—and it’s the thought that counts. When Mihawk and Crocodile first told him he'd be looking after you, Buggy's gut reaction was to grumble and complain. But then he saw the looks they gave him—those death stares that could silence any king—and he quickly shut his mouth. Just like that, he accepted his new role with a resigned, "Okay, I am now a babysitter." Sure, he's skeptical about the whole thing. I mean, Buggy and babysitting? But he knows better than to argue. So here he is, awkwardly navigating this whole childcare thing, making blunders but genuinely trying his best. It's a weird situation for everyone.

I imagine that you have been with the Cross Guild for some time already, so this likely isn’t Buggy’s first time taking care of you. Yet every time feels like the first time for him. He's just not a natural with kids. It's like he's constantly second-guessing himself, unsure of what to do or how to act. But you know what really lights a fire under him? Compliments. Especially when they're about how cool he is. Seriously, mention anything about his awesomeness, and suddenly, he's walking on air. You can practically see the confidence oozing out of him. "Oh, you think I'm cool?" he'll say, grinning from ear to ear, soaking up every bit of praise you throw his way. And if you really want to see him shine, just keep the compliments coming. Tell him how flashy and impressive he is, and watch as he practically transforms before your eyes. Suddenly, he's not just awkwardly babysitting; he's putting on a show, trying to impress you with his swagger and style. After that, you'll probably notice a change in him. He'll start to relax a bit and maybe even start looking forward to spending time with you. Buggy the babysitter isn't such a wild idea after all.

And if for some reason Buggy isn’t the one taking care of you, it’s most likely Mihawk who steps up. Crocodile's usually buried under a mountain of responsibilities, so Mihawk takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. Now, unlike Buggy, Mihawk's not exactly awkward around kids. He's just... well, himself. You know, all serious and stoic, like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders. He doesn't really have much experience with children, so he kinda just treats you like a mini-adult. No baby talk or anything like that, he just sees you as a little human being. But don't worry, he's not some mean old grump or anything. He's just firm. Firm as in he won't tolerate any disrespect or nonsense from you, but he's not gonna yell or anything like that. His gaze alone is usually enough to keep you in line. Oh, and whatever you do, don't even think about touching his sword. Seriously, that thing's like his baby—the last thing he wants is a crying kid with a cut because they were being too clumsy. He might let you take a good look at it though. So look all you want, but keep those small hands off. But you know what he will let you have? His hat. If you beg ask him nicely enough, he might just let you borrow it for a little while. So go ahead, give it a try. Who knows, maybe wearing Mihawk's hat will make you feel like a little pirate captain or something.

And then there's Crocodile. When it's his turn to take care of you, his approach is pretty straightforward. He'll plop you down somewhere near him and tell you to behave and stay out of his way while he works on stuff. But what kind of kid is just going to sit there quietly and stare at their dad work on a bunch of boring papers? None. Exactly. So naturally, you start to get a bit antsy. At first, you try to be subtle. You scoot over a bit closer and peek over his shoulder, trying to see what he's so engrossed in. And what do you find? Boring paperwork. You sigh, plopping back into your seat, feeling utterly defeated by the sheer dullness of it all. Then the questions start. "Crocodile," you call out. He doesn't look at you, but you know he's listening. "What are you working on?" "Work," he replies, his voice flat and uninterested. "Crocodile," you try again. "Hmm?" he grunts. "Why are you so tall?" "Why are you so talkative?" "Crocodile," you persist. "What?" "Can I have one of your rings?" "No." He goes silent again, but you're not giving up that easily. "Crocodile," you say once more. This time, he finally glances over at you, annoyance etched across his face. Perfect, you think—this is your chance to unload all those burning questions. So you start firing away. "Why are you called Crocodile? Are you a crocodile? How did you get that scar on your face? Can you make a sandcastle? Can I have your hook? Can I have your coat? Can you make my hair like yours? Can you make me cool like you?" He listens in silence as the barrage of questions comes his way, his eyebrow quirking slightly at the rapid-fire interrogation. "Kid, where are all these questions coming from?" he finally asks, unable to hide the hint of exasperation in his voice. “My head," you say innocently, flashing him a wide-eyed look. It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes at your annoyingly cute innocence.

Now, when it's the three of them—Mihawk, Crocodile, and Buggy—all tasked with taking care of you at the same time, things can get pretty complicated. On one hand, you have the stern swordsman and the no-nonsense sandman keeping a close eye on you while you and Buggy play patty cake. It's a weird dynamic. Buggy's usual strategy in this situation is to dive headfirst into playing kids' games with you, trying his best to act like he's fully engrossed in the fun. But you can tell he's a bit on edge, especially when you notice him glancing nervously over his shoulder, feeling the burning stares of Mihawk and Crocodile boring into the back of his head. Sometimes, the tension gets to be too much, and Mihawk and Crocodile can't resist giving Buggy a hard time, even in front of you. It's like one of those awkward moments when you're watching your sibling get scolded by your parents. You can see Buggy's face go pale, and he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. But then there are those moments when you step in to defend him. Buggy has never felt more grateful and relieved in his entire life than when you stand up for him like the little knight in shining armor you are. And believe it or not, your defense actually does make somewhat of a difference. Mihawk and Crocodile are way too mature to start bullying a child for defending Buggy, no matter how much they can't stand him. Plus, the last thing they want to deal with is a full-blown crying session from a grown man and child. Sure, your defense might earn Buggy even more glares from the two men, but it also makes them back off a bit. You can imagine Buggy clinging to you like a damsel in distress while you stand there, fierce and determined, protecting him with everything you've got. It's a sight that definitely annoys Mihawk and Crocodile. But hey, at least Buggy's got someone in his corner.

It’s pretty much a given that with Crocodile and Mihawk watching over you, you're practically untouchable. Even Buggy, despite his penchant for getting into trouble, wouldn't intentionally put you in harm's way. Sure, he may accidentally stumble into dangerous situations from time to time, but deep down, all three of them care about you—even if they don't always show it. Since you often spend the most time with Buggy, it's not uncommon for him to inadvertently lead you into precarious predicaments. Take, for example, that time you found yourselves perched on a rocky hillside, with Buggy enthusiastically rambling on about how cool and flashy he is. But then, in a classic Buggy move, he trips and starts tumbling down the hill—with you in tow. You’d think your life would flash before your eyes in a moment like that, right? Wrong. Instead, it's Buggy's life and yours flashing before his very eyes. The panic he's feeling right now is like when Crocodile and Mihawk are giving him those death glares, except multiplied by a thousand. But here's the thing: Buggy's luck? It seems to have rubbed off on you because, miraculously, you came out of this whole ordeal without a scratch. Meanwhile, poor Buggy's got a bloody nose, a bruised face, and who knows what else. But the moment he sees that you're okay, it's like a floodgate of relief and joy bursts open. He's screaming at the top of his lungs, cradling you like you're some precious treasure he's just unearthed. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed. And it's not just because of the screaming clown in front of you—it's also because you know he's genuinely relieved that you're okay. (Think of that one part in the movie The Lion King when Rafiki just holds Simba high up—except in this situation it’s Buggy holding you high up and screaming out of joy like some madman. I legit had to search for this scene on YouTube because I forgot that dang monkey's name.) The only problem now is that Buggy's got to come up with a good explanation for those injuries he’s got when Crocodile and Mihawk inevitably catch sight of him. 

When hunger strikes, Mihawk is usually your go-to guy. He's not just the world's greatest swordsman; he's also a fantastic cook. If he ever decided to retire or whatever, he could easily become a top-notch chef. Or he could be the world's greatest swordsman and chef at once, who knows. On the other hand, if you asked Buggy to cook, you'd probably end up with something burnt. And Crocodile? He'd just brush you off with a classic "go ask your dad" line, where "dad" in this case is Mihawk. Of course, Crocodile never actually calls Mihawk your dad, but you get the joke. Anyway, Mihawk takes his cooking duties seriously when it comes to you. He doesn't cook for you throughout the day. Instead, he wakes up at the crack of dawn and prepares enough food to last you the entire day. By the time you wake up, your meal is already waiting for you, perfectly packed and ready to go. And the impressive part is that Mihawk always packs just the right amount of food, ensuring that you're never left hungry or stuffed. It's like he has some kind of sixth sense for portion control. If, by the end of the day, you haven't seen Mihawk at all, you make a point to find him at night just to say thank you. Mihawk, with his usual stoic demeanor, nods at you and sends you off to bed. It's a small ritual, but it means a lot to both of you. Another thing about Mihawk is that he's meticulous about your diet. He makes sure you're eating healthy, well-balanced meals. Sure, he lets you have sweets now and then, but he's always careful to remind you about moderation. He'll explain how too many sweets can be bad for you—not to scare you off sweets entirely, but just to make sure you're aware. He doesn't want you polishing off your fourth chocolate bar of the day, especially since Buggy is probably sneaking them to you because he thinks you're the cutest thing ever. Overall, Mihawk's attention to your diet and well-being shows how much he cares, even if he's not the most expressive guy. He might be stern and serious, but his actions speak volumes.

You have this cute habit of constantly asking Crocodile to pick you up. Honestly, who wouldn't want to be hoisted high up by the tallest guy around? For a kid, it's like an instant rollercoaster ride that's thrilling and fun. At first, Crocodile's pretty reluctant. He’s not exactly the most nurturing figure, and he's out of practice handling kids. But you, with your endless persistence, your pleading eyes, and that adorable pout, eventually wear him down. The first time he gives in is pretty comical. He picks you up with a heavy sigh, clearly unsure of himself. For a moment, he just stares at you, probably wondering what he’s gotten himself into and debating whether he should put you back down or not. But then you flash him your brightest, most radiant smile, and he knows he’s stuck. He figures that if he puts you down now, the cycle of begging and pleading will start all over again. So he resigns himself to carrying you around as he goes about his day. Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose where he takes you. Crocodile decides the route and destination, and that’s non-negotiable. If you start to complain about it, he'll fix you with a stern look and threaten to put you down and never carry you again. That usually gets you to pipe down pretty quickly. But all that aside, being carried by him is an absolute blast. He's so tall that you get an amazing bird's-eye view of everything around you. There's a thrill in being up high, combined with a comforting sense of security, knowing that Crocodile’s got you firmly in his grasp and won't let you fall. As for the way he carries you, it’s always in his arms. On very rare occasions, he’ll let you sit on his shoulders. But there's one rule: don't mess up his hair. Seriously, he’s adamant about that. So there you are, perched up high on Crocodile's shoulders, looking down at the world with a huge grin on your face. Despite his grumbling and sighs, you know he doesn't really mind. In his own gruff way, he’s grown fond of having you around.

You may be a handful, but you're their handful.

[thepointofme]

mind full of thoughts of erik accidentally being sent back to the past and staying with the x men until they find a way to send him back to the future and present erik being jealous charles with his future version.

ok so in my head here the timeline is different from xmfc, it takes longer for erik to find shaw so he stays with charles for at least three years and they open the school together. there's no beach divorce or charles getting paralyzed but the divorce eventually happens bc erik never gave up on his revenge plan, ends up killing shaw at some point, this causes a massive fight between him and charles and he decides to go on his own bc they're both too stubborn to meet each other in the middle. a year and a half passes after their dramatic divorce and this is precisely when future!erik arrives. in his mid/late 40s from twenty years now on, this erik is not that different from present!erik, they still look the same, save from how future!erik has shorter hair, a stubble, and a few more wrinkles.

the major difference lies in his posture. future!erik carries himself with more genuine confidence than his present version, since he's obviously older and has way more experience, he's way more confident in his powers and doesn't rely (that much) on anger anymore to use them. hes just.. a bit more calm. doesn't look like a bomb ready to explode. and this is what makes charles orbit around him like a moth to the flame. i keep thinking about young charles absolute FASCINATED with this version of erik, bc that's the man he loves so much, his dearest friend, now older and mature and comfortable in his own skin. this is exactly what charles wanted for erik and its right in front of him, after a year and a half of being away from erik, all that hurt and pain.. and future!erik is ACHING and YEARNING so badly like i bet he regrets all the things he did that hurt charles and always had those 'what ifs' in the back of his mind, 'what if he could change the past' 'what if he could change the way he treated charles' and now he has this version of charles, the first version of him he learned how to love, still full of hope for the world and with that soft look on his beautiful blue eyes.. he wants to make things right this time. so while hank is trying to find a way to send him back to his time, charles and erik spend their days together, playing chess and talking and talking and talking.

charles sees erik interacting with alex and helping him with his powers, everybody is still at shock to see how he's way more patient than his present version, and charles is about to EXPLODEEE with so much love. and in the middle of all this we have present!erik, hurt and bitter with his fresh 'magneto' suit of armor bc now he's the leader of the brotherhood of mutants, seeing this man who clames to be him in the future following charles around like a puppy, making charles smile and blush, he's about to start a new war. he also stays with the x men bc he wants to send his future version to the future as soon as he can, he's there to "keep an eye on him".

it goes like this until one day charles and future!erik are talking in the balcony of charles' room, they're talking normally and they simply CANT take their eyes off each other until charles blurts out of nowhere "are you happy? at peace? or at least getting there?" and erik says after a few seconds looking at him ".. im getting there." and charles smiles bright like the sun, holds one of his hands saying "good" and the moment is so soft and delicate and intimate they end up kissing. slow and wet and romantic with their bodies pressed against each other totally lost to the rest of the world, none of them hear the door opening until is too late and suddenly there's another erik in the room, furious. thats where things get interesting!!!!!! present!erik is absolutely out of his mind and tries to attack future!erik with his powers, but future!erik is more powerful and doesn't even bat an eye (thinking about present!erik trying to choke future!erik with that necklace he uses in dark phoenix but future!erik simply uses his powers to put it in present!erik's neck to choke him instead) until charles get in the middle ordering them to stop because theyre being ridiculous.

its just too funny the idea of erik fighting with himself bc other version of him got to kiss charles before him (got to kiss charles at all) and future!erik tauts him by saying that he could have that if he wasn't too much of a coward to act on his feelings and charles is a little offended how they're talking about him as if hes not there but hes also getting all hot and bothered bc cmon there's Two eriks fighting over him and theyre both so hot and attractive in the same AND different ways he's sweating a little!!! and then future!erik kisses him again... gets behind him gently pushes his body close to present!erik.. who looks at him as if he's pained and then he also kisses charles... they end up taking charles to paris if you know what i mean

[maikissed]

and the day after that, and day after that

jude bellingham x reader a bit angsty, a little bit of drama and a lot of monologue, i like drama

You took a minute to wonder when has it started, really, what pivotal moment changed the perspective, the trajectory of new feelings, harsh and alerting, making you nervous and full of doubt that whatever follows, would bring anything good of it. Because you noticed, it was hard to pinpoint the moment when, but you did. It was there, in the softness of his eyes when he looked at you, payed attention to your words and actions, the gentle smile displayed on his lips, slightly curved on the side in a adoring kind of way. The way he touched you when he meant to, on your shoulder, your neck or your arm. Touches sometimes unnecessary but present, warm and lingering. Or brief, but still there. Filled with something different from those in the past. Innocent, yet intentional. You felt, knew, it was different.

Maybe it was somewhere around the time when he was coming back from Dortmund for vacation, so full of pride and joy, fuelled by many successes of his and his team. The world started to hear about him and he was floating in praise. It kept changing him, not exactly in a negative way, but it kept his head higher. He knew his worth, simply the rest of them started to learn it now. That gave him a peck of confidence, you noticed him grow in this. And it’s been remarkable, to watch him develop in every way so much.

When he was about to take a plane to England, every time he made sure to give you notice about his comeback, searching for your arms to be the first that embrace him on his welcome party. Parties in a meaning of a little friend gathering. Sometimes real parties, when you all were feeling like it. You were noticing the attention back then, different, prominent. You started calling him your boy, still slightly oblivious of his intentions, or you’ve simply turned a blind eye on everything around you, wanting to accompany him on this journey and not cause a fuss about something that maybe is not there for a fact. You kept being a good friend.

And you kept your cool, rolling with all of it just fine. It’s been fine, but everything skyrocketed when his career went on a higher range path as he joined Real Madrid in last July. Now, that was some boost to Jude’s ego. And it’s been astonishing that every time he came back now, he was presenting a different, much developed persona. A man, as you noticed with a flutter of your heart. Man with responsibility, worked up discipline, well-groomed talent and a radiant self-confidence that you knew not many women can say no to. But you were not a woman for his choice, you were too old for him. From the moment when you’d been kids, strutting down the province to buy some ice cream in a corner shop. You as a young guardian, since your little brother and his jumpy friend with big dark eyes and funny ears were too young to pay the cashier the right amount of money for your sweetmeats.

Now, it’s been a joyful night and at the end of it you found yourself standing in front of him leaned back on the huge sofa in your hotel room. You’ve been laughing non stop for the last two hours and you didn’t even remember exactly how both of you ended up in your suite, leaving your friends behind. You breathed in a huff, slightly exhausted by your alcoholic trance, smile still visible on your face. You leaned back on the edge of a little table in the middle of the room and you spotted him doing the exact thing that made you unbelievably anxious lately. He kept watching you, intensively, so passionately you felt all parts of your body as if exposed to him. Like you were a painting, the sight of which he’d rather die than part with. He’s been close to you all night. You could feel him sneaking in. There was a reason he came after you here, wasn’t there?

“Jude” you breathed, nervous, not very much ready for this conversation.

He hummed in question, playing with the soft brink of the armrest of the sofa with his fingers.

“Stop looking at me like that” you stated a longer moment after.

There was a inquiry in his expression after your words. He anticipated you elaborate.

“I can’t shake the feeling that you’re seeing me different than you’ve used to”

You kept your cool. Good.

“What do you mean, y/n?” he murmured, and his face now did not appear unaware of the course of this conversation. Like he was prepared.

“I am not…” it was hard to fight the bile that started to form in your throat.

It was not that hard. The rejection. You’ve done this before. But it was not just some guy. He was your friend. Childhood companion.

“…I can’t be what you want me to be”

He went rigid, his eyes turned hard, lips stiff. He incited you to continue.

“It can’t happen” you voiced it out surely. Your eyes still not leaving his. You had to be resolved and purposeful.

His jaw clicked as he looked down at his hand as if looking for composure. Swiftly he brought his eyes back to your face.

“It’s done already” he stated in a firm voice and you shook a little in horror.

Whatever he meant?

“I’m not playing anything, y/n. It’s done already and I don’t really have the intention to fight it.”  

“What do you mean by done?” you went pale.

Amongst many things that Jude were, he was definitely a man of devotion, conviction and determination. You were shaking in your limbs at the magnitude of these words. These were serious ones.

He laughed lightly at your question. He knew you were playing dumb for your safety.

“I know what I want” he started quietly “And I aim to have it” a dangerous spark in his eyes.

Was this his go? To rile you up?

“What exactly do you want?” you stared to banter.

“You”

He said it so effortlessly but his voice hardened slightly.

“Don’t be ridiculous” there was a snort leaving your mouth as you tried to turn away for his fiery gaze.

You went for a glass of wine you poured yourself earlier, in a need of something that’ll make this easier for you. Many questions appearing in your head of how to save this situation without it shattering everything you’ve had between you.

“You don’t find me enough, then?” he asked from the distance.

At least the distance was safe.

It was your turn to laugh. You almost threw your head back.

“I am too old for you, Jude” you argued, now fire appearing in your eyes as well because all of this was not so definite on your side.

How have you been perceiving him? The answer to this question was far more complicated than his “I know what I want” statement. Because you did not know. All you knew is that the last thing you wanted is for the world to shatter at your feet because you did something as repellent as throwing yourself at such younger boy.

“I don’t give two fucks about…”

“But I do!” you turned sharply to face his way “What about my saying in this?!”

“Voice it out then, fully” he tempted.

Bigger, his eyes turned even bigger. You prayed for your legs to not lead you closer to him.

“It’s wrong, it’s weird. What would your mother have to say about this, the public?!” you hissed, scolding him almost.

He did not liked to be scolded. By anyone, except his mother. Well, not many would like to get into Denise’s black book.

“Oh, please, my mom adores you” he scoffed trying to make you sound unreasonable.

“As a family friend!” an obvious statement “And it would look dreadfully wrong, for a five years older woman to groom a boy such as yourself!” you snapped.

He frowned at the term you named him in such sentence. You definitely wounded him by it, choosing to strike with a necessary impudence.

“To groom?” laughter enveloped his features.

He was not to give up on this. It mildly made you want to come up to him and shake him.

“Yes, that’s a word for it”

“It’s an exaggeration”

“Are you in love with me, Jude?!” that was definitely a question you yearned to hear an answer to. Looking for advantage.

He blinked, swallowing sharply. And your knees went weak because you knew that look on his gentle face. Softer, boyish, fond. The fire died in his eyes for a moment, leaving room for waving devotion. Like an ocean in the darkness.

“Yes” he breathed.

Fuck.

“Do you even know what that means?!” you could slap him in the face as well, probably would be more subtle.

“For fuck’s sake, y/n” he moved forwards on the settee, clasping his hands together.

“It’s a lot Jude, and you’re not in love” were you trying to put feelings and thoughts of your choosing in his head right now? Most likely. “It is not a time or place for a boyish infatuation” you fumed.

He stood up abruptly and you shook in your place.

“Do you want me to prove you it’s far from being a boyish infatuation?” a step forward, putting you into action to take a step back. “Your reaction says a lot about that” he stated noticing you fighting the intention to circle the table.

Breathe in, breath out.

“If it’s lust, it means little and dies quickly” you breathed, your chest falling and raising faster. You were raging, with… something.

“If it was just lust, I would’ve snapped years ago” he burked rolling his shoulders back.

You snorted.

“I am not trying to force anything on you” he took another step your way.

You stood still. Hold your ground, you kept saying to yourself.

“And the last thing I want is for us to fell apart” just few feet away from each other now, you looking up at him “But you’re putting a hell lot of work for this denial, because you’re looking at me different than you’ve used to as well.”

A sharp intake of breath. You realised it was yours. From this proximity he could hear. And you weren’t looking at him, focusing your absent gaze on his chest, searching for composure. Suddenly his fingers appeared under your chin, tilting your head up delicately. You gave in, exhausted, almost.

“Sweet dreams, we’ll see each other tomorrow” he smiled with reassurance in his eyes, honest and with gentleness “And the day after that, and day after that” his thumb grazed your under chin when he whispered these words to you.

You narrowed your eyes trying to get an answer to the true meaning of this promise. But he left your room before your smart mouth could work proper again.

[redbleedingrose]

that baby girl Lucy thing could be a drabble or headcanon or whatever ur comfortable with btw 😁 or you don’t have to do anything at all with it if u don’t want! just wanted to mention it bc GIRL DAD ERIS

GIRL DAD!ERIS AND LUCIEN RECONCILLING PART 2

A/N: OKAY YES I AM SO SORRY I GOT BUSY WITH MED SCHOOL, HAD A SHELF EXAM TO TAKE AND THEN I GOT LAZY BUT IT IS HERE!

Edit: So I started writing and realized this is getting a bit long, like I am not done with this part and I am already 2.2k word in, so this will likely be a 3 or 4 part mini-series giving y'all girl dad!Eris lore! I hope you enjoy and I am sorry I had to split it up, but it seems like I had more to this story I wanted to share!

part 1

Your first letter remains unopened, buried beneath legal documents and trade deals in a locked drawer of Lucien's desk. Each week, another one of your letters is added to the ever growing pile that Lucien can't bring himself to open.

Part of him wants to rip all your attempts of communication to shreds, throw it into the fire place and forget that you and Eris exist.

The other part of him, the one that he tries to bury deep within himself, is curious, anxious really, to know what it is you have to say to him. What is it that you continue to reach out to him?

Is it a part your duty as high lady of autumn? Are you looking to start relations between Autumn and Day? Are you trying to keep your relationship to your brother in law as professional as possible? What if you are trying to get to know him? Would that be the worst thing in the world, to get to know his sister in law? He has always wanted a sister.

What if you are writing out of need? For help? What if you need asylum from his brother? Gods, he hopes not. What if Eris turned out to be the exactly like his father, cruel and abusive in his marriage to you? What if he, like Beron, was ruining Autumn court with outrageous regulations and taxes too high that  most of the autumn population were left in poverty?

What if you were writing to him to brag about how well Eris has done without him, that this is the only way he will receive any updates on Eris, and to not expect anything more?

What if you are lovely and kind? What are you like? Are you good to Eris? Is he good to you? Do you make his oldest brother happy? Does he make you happy? What is Eris like now? Has he changed or is he the same paranoid male who plots conspiracies?

The lack of response from your brother in law does little to defer your efforts. You continue to write to Lucien, without skipping a beat, sending a letter to him every week, giving him updates on his brother, updates on your pregnancy, even updates on the pups Eris is raising to protect your babes in the coming months. You share with him your feelings about Eris, the story of how you met, how your mating bond had snapped abruptly and without notice, how he fought against your relationship for years until he couldn't hold back anymore, how when he finally gave in, he had made you the promise of a safer home, a safer land, a place in which his father could never lay a hand on you.

You confide in him your concerns over his brother, your fears that his duties as high lord will consume him, that Eris has anxieties about being a good father, and you are scared it will paralyze him. You tell him about the things you notice about Eris, things you think Eris doesn't know about himself. That, sometimes, Er will get a distant look in his eyes when he sees young children playing together, especially when one looks older than the other. That, sometimes, Er mumbles in his sleep, how often his name comes up while he is asleep, how Er wakes up from those same dreams gasping and clutching at his chest, how it takes hours for you to calm him after. How when Eris struggles to sleep, he stares at the family portrait, with his eyes fixated on Lucien before he comes back to bed with you at your urging.

You write to him as if he is your best friend, as if he is sitting across from you and you are just talking to him. You write to him as if you have known him for centuries.

With all of Eris' stories about his beloved brother, you feel as though you have known him for centuries. 

It takes a long time for Lucien to muster the courage to open your letters. After weeks of receiving letters and storing them away without a second glance, after weeks of forcing any thoughts of the letters away, after weeks of catching himself thinking about Eris, thinking about you and Autumn court, does he finally force himself sit down to read the letters. To be done and over with it. To read the letters, and never think of you or his brother again. To give closure to that horrific chapter of his life. To have this as his final goodbye.

It takes him several minutes to unlock the drawer after he slumps into his chair by the desk. It takes him a couple of minutes to open the drawer before staring at all the papers on top of the letters. It takes him 20 minutes to pluck the letters out from beneath and toss them onto his desk. Another 30 minutes is spent of him grabbing the letters and setting it onto the side table near his hearth, pacing around his office, biting at his nails, wringing his hands, running his fingers through his long auburn hair to sit in his cozy leather chair with the letters at an arms-length. An hour is spent staring blankly into the near extinguished fire, the pops and crackles from the desperate surviving flames being the only times he blinks. Another 10 minutes of delay, spent with breathing exercises while pouring himself a two, maybe three, fingers of night court imported whiskey and taking several bated sips of the hard liquor.

After almost two hours of delay, does Lucien use the letter opener the night court general gifted him during a visiting trip, to slowly and carefully, with shaking hands, tear the seal open. Deep breathing does little to stop his pittering heart as he opens the first letter, glazed eyes racing over each sentence, each word multiple times, nearly seizing as you break the news of your pregnancy. Tears he didn’t even know were leaking down his cheeks, meeting at his chin to drip down his neck began to stream. Choked sobs with a hand clutched at his chest, your letter delicately being placed to the side as his emotions crash into him.

Weeks of pent up feelings become unrelenting waves that makes it near impossible for him to catch his breath. All of grief for the time he has missed with you and his brother, all of happiness at your pride and clear love and devotion for your mate, his brother, all of sorrow and concern for what Eris turned out to be after years of torment and unrelenting abuse, all of quiet hope for the future relationship he may have with you, with his future nieces or nephews, with his older brother, all of that is almost unbearably overwhelming. The only source of respite, coming from your gentle handwriting.

“Lucien, I implore you to take all the time you need. I will patiently be waiting for a response, whether it takes weeks or months, years or even centuries. I want a relationship with you. As does your brother. And I want our children to have a relationship with their uncle. So I will wait. And if you decide that having a relationship with us is just too impossibly painful for you, then with the deepest regret and with the most profound love, will we accept that fate as well.” 

It is your own hope that pushes Lucien to read all of your other letters, whiskey set aside and forgotten. Letters that have his bereaved sobs turning into silent tears of joy. Letters that have him bubbling with laughter as you express your loving annoyance at Eris’ puttering about the nursery and his great insistence that your future babes will need 15 chicks, and at least 6 baby cows to grow up with.

Letters that have him smiling softly, reminiscing in the good memories of his childhood Eris whispered to you in the dark recesses of night. Letters that have him pondering if what you say is really the truth, because you give a convincing argument that his older brother may actually miss him, may have actually loved him… still loves him. Letters that give him insight into all the years he missed, that he now almost feels a part of, like he was actually there to witness all of the events surrounding your relationship and Eris’ ascension to the autumn throne. Lucien spends hours, even as the fire in the office gives way to death and the only remaining source of light becomes Lucien’s own magic pulsating through the room, reading your letters. Over and over, in the order it was sent in and in backwards order. And by the end of it, he is speechless. 

No words come to mind that can describe how he feels. He cannot come up with what to say. The only thing he knows is that he is appreciative for the time and patience that you have given him, the grace that you have shown, the honesty of the hardships that you and Eris went through, of the relationship you have formed with his brother, and of all the changes Er has gone through and has brought to Autumn Court since his escape. So, Lucien folds your letters following the exact lines you used, making sure not even a slight crease is created, before carefully placing back into the envelopes you sent them in, holding them to his chest as he walks to his room and retires for the night. Sleep, however, the trickster it is, plays the most exhausting game and evades him most of the night. His usual tossing and turning is replaced with his ember eyes focused on the letters, hands clasped tightly together resting on his chest because his fingers kept twitching with want to reach back for your messages to reread them. Lucien’s thoughts are wildly free of the endless possibilities of what might come in the future… a happy future. 

Days were spent rereading your letters. Days were spent stressing out over what to do, he never had a choice when it came to his family. All things were inevitably decided for him. He was brought up to be competitive with his brothers, it was decided that he would have to fight his brothers for the autumn throne, a throne he had no desire of having. It was decided what kind of training he got, despite his lack of interest in violence. He didn’t choose to leave Autumn, he barely escaped with his life. He didn’t choose this. Having a choice… it was a delicacy he hadn’t been offered before.

Lucien knew though. Deep down inside, he knew what he wanted to choose. Going back and forth with his options inevitably landed on one outcome. He wants to try. He wants to get to know you, a sister he always wanted and now, finally has. He wants to get to know his future nieces or nephews. He wants to be a part of their lives; he wants to be the best uncle he can be. And he so achingly wants to know his older brother, wants to know his side of the story, wants to know if he was wrong to blame him for everything. It is alarming. The prospect of it all. It’s… fully… wholly… thoroughly and completely terrifying. 

What if he was wrong about it all? What if he spent decades… centuries hating his own brother… someone who should’ve been blameless? Would Eris forgive him for it? What if he comes to the conclusion Eris didn’t try hard enough? Could he forgive Eris, a crimeless, unwilling accomplice in the murder of Jes? What if Eris is uninterested after a near lifetime of rejection? How will they build their relationship, beyond what it ever was? What if, even after all of that, he ends up alone? Was it worth it?

Was the hurt, the fear, the hope… was it worth it?

It took another month of Lucien’s contemplation to come up with a response, not for lack of trying. He had so many thoughts, so many feelings and emotions regarding his brother, his past, his future, you as his new sister in law, the fact that he is going to be an uncle, to work through, that he is still working through. He is afraid, afraid of what he has missed with Eris, afraid of what or who Eris has become. But one thing about the Vanserra brothers is that they have a burning courage within them. So despite the fear, he wants more. He wants to try. Every time he sits down to muster an acknowledgement to your letters, though, he chokes up. 

A ball of anxiety runs rampant through his stomach, a knot in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow, that he can't seem to clear even with a rough rub at his neck. His hands quake as he readjusts the pen in his hands, over and over, feeling pins and needles at the tips of his fingers as he tries to figure out the words to respond with. Your letters had so much thought, so much effort and sentiment and zest poured into them. And all of the thoughts and feelings he had during the time he took, it seemed… inadequate. A simple letter… it wouldn’t be enough. Not with all the things Lucien wants to say to you and eventually… to Eris as well. Finally, after staring at the blank sheet placed in front of him, sweaty hands rubbing furiously up and down his thighs, does he figure it out. 

So… with a shaky inhale, he brings his pen to the page. 

Hello dear sister,

I apologize for my delay in responding. If I am being honest, I spent a lot of time, quite a lot indeed, thinking of your letters. Thinking of you. Thinking of my brother Eris the Autumn High Lord. Thinking of the past. Thinking of the future. One letter to tell you all of my thoughts in response to your attempts of communication feel woefully insufficient. 

If you are ever so inclined, would you be open to meeting with me? I understand that your pregnancy condition may make it difficult upon you to travel to Day. I’m happy to I am set to be in Spring Court for two weeks from now for a week. Would you be willing able to meet at the border in three weeks time? 

with warm wishes,

regards, 

Lucien Vanserra

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Be Here

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, mentions of Joe x bestie!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You go crazy for revenge after the death of your best friend Joe.

“Has she said anything to you?”

“If she had, I would’ve told you.”

“I don’t get it, Sam. She wants to find Meg, but she won’t let us help her.”

“I think she’ll let us help as long as we don’t try to talk to her.”

“I’m right here, you know.” Both brothers turned in surprise at your voice to see you sitting on the bed, your headphones removed from your head.

“Well you haven’t taken those off in days,” Dean said, pointing to your headphones. “So…”

You rolled your eyes and started to put the headphones back on.

“Wait!” Sam stepped forwards. “C’mon, this is the first time you’ve said anything in days. We’re sorry, it’s just…we’ve been kind of worried.”

“Well, I’m fine,” you sighed. “Just busy.”

“What exactly are you trying to research?” Dean asked, trying to get a look at your laptop.

“A way to track Meg down.”

“Don’t you think maybe Lucifer is the priority here?” Sam asked gently.

“Yeah, right. You get him, I’m going to get the demon that killed Joe and Ellen.”

“Kid—“

“Dean, you won’t change my mind, so stop wasting time trying.”

Dean was taken aback by the harshness of your tone, but he didn’t say anything. This was the first time you’d spoken since Ellen and Joe died, he wasn’t about to discourage that.

“Ok then,” he sighed. “We’ll look for Lucifer. Let us know if you find anything.”

You didn’t respond

…

“I won’t work with him anymore. He shouldn’t even be breathing.”

“Kid, I know it’s not ideal—“

“Ideal?” You scoffed at Dean. “He’s the reason Joe and Ellen are dead! It was Crowley’s stupid plan and that stupid colt that got them killed, and now you want to—“

“We don’t want to work with him,” Sam interrupted. “But we’re running out of options. We have to get rid of Lucifer.”

“And what about Meg?” You asked. “Or did you guys forget that she’s the one who sent those hell hounds after us?”

“One enemy at a time, kid,” Dean replied.

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s not good enough. We have to kill her, I-I can’t—“

Sam put a hand on your shoulder when your voice cracked, but you shrugged him off. You took a deep breath, and Sam could see you blinking back the tears that you’d managed to hold off with weeks of revenge-seeking. He persisted, placing both hands on your shoulders and kneeling down to meet your eye.

“Honey, you’ve gotta listen to us. This revenge, it…it’s not gonna take away the pain you’re feeling.”

You finally met his eye, and Sam’s heart ached for you when he saw the pain behind your eyes.

“Then what will?” Far from the harsh, confident tone that you’d managed to keep up over the past few days, your voice was now small and vulnerable as you stared up at your big brother, searching for an answer he didn’t have.

“Nothing.” You turned to look at Dean when he spoke. “There’s no magic recipe to just take it all away, kid. But if you let us, then we can try and help make it better. Keeping it all inside, not letting us help you…it’s not good. You aren’t better off alone.”

“I-I can’t…” you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and once they began to fall you struggled to speak. “I can’t talk about it. It’s hurts too much.”

When Dean stepped forwards and put his arms around you, any pretense, every wall, it all came down instantly.

He held you up when your legs gave out under you, and he cradled your head against his chest as you sobbed.

“I know,” he whispered, blinking back his own tears. “I know it hurts, kiddo.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Sam said as he stepped closer and put his hand on your shoulder. “Just let us be here, ok?”

You couldn’t speak, but Sam’s lips lifted in a relieved smile when you nodded.

“We’re gonna be here for you, kiddo,” Dean promised. “We’re always gonna be here.”

[lostgracestories]

Always, With You...

wc: 1.1k (HELP I LOVE MOHG) tw: brief mention of intimacy (nothing happens), literally so fluffy you might melt, good luck

This is what I have been working on since the poll decided that Mohg x Tarnished was the first thing I needed to write so I do hope you guys thoroughly enjoy this <3

oh, and DLC character mention so if you haven't played the DLC yet go away (jk just read with discretion <3)

It was like every other day in Mohgwyn palace. Mohg was pacing back and forth, rambling to himself as he attempted to come up with a way to introduce his dynasty to possible recruits. As he did this, you stood some feet away, conversing with Varre and Sir Ansbach. You expressed to them that you wanted to propose a romantic idea to Mohg to which they stared at you like you were ridiculous. 

“Is… is that not a good idea?”

You shrunk back a little, wondering if they had some form of knowledge that you did not have. After a long pause, Varre’s face twisted into a grin. You couldn’t necessarily see it behind his mask, but you could always tell by the way his mask shifted and his tone changed. Sir Ansbach seemed to hold his breath when Varre began to speak, as if expecting he would need to scold him. “Oh, lambkin… Luminary Mohg is not exactly… familiar, with such things”

You couldn’t help but give into the tugging at the corner of your lips as they curved into a smile. Exactly how unfamiliar was he alluding to? Regardless, it wasn’t like you were going to make Mohg plan it, it was your idea after all, you would plan it accordingly.

“Well, how do you expect him to get familiar if he doesn’t try things?”

You turned on your heels, facing in the direction of your dearest. The look you gave Varre was almost taunting, as if to say “watch this”

As you approached Mohg, he spotted you, striding toward him with a bright smile on your face. He immediately ceased his pacing and stood still for you. When you stood at his feet, his orangey eye lingering over your face for a moment before he questioned you with an amused intrigue to his voice.

“You seem quite amused about something… care to share with me, little dove?”

Oh how you loved that pet name, anytime he called you as such your knees practically buckled beneath you. However, you cleared your throat this time, forcing yourself to keep your gaze trained up at him. Those doe eyes you looked up at him with drove him crazy. Finally, you parted your lips to speak. Despite your efforts to stay confident, your voice cracks for a mere second as you begin

“My heart-”

You started with the endearing nickname, pausing before you continued

“I have been thinking, and I wish to partake in a romantic outing with you”

You could have sworn you saw Mohg’s gaze falter for a second, as if he had become distracted, pulled away from the gaze he kept over your delicate features that so vastly contrasted his own. As silence surrounded both of you, Mohg took it upon himself to fill it, clearing his throat and confidently straightening his posture.

“Well then, little dove… it would be my honor to plan this outing!”

His voice was filled with an excitement that you were all too familiar with. It was the same overzealous excitement he carried in his tone when he explained his dynasty to anyone that would listen. Suddenly, you realized what Varre had meant, a feeling rising in your gut as you peered back at him. His hand was over the mouth of his mask and his shoulders shook with quiet laughter. Well… you couldn’t say he didn’t try to warn you…

Mohg was quick to push you toward the exit so that he could prepare a lavish outing for you, his beautiful little dove. Sir Ansbach was quick to guide you away as Varre was too busy snickering… that bastard. You ended up finding time to read your favorite book in the time that it took Mohg to prepare. Deep down, part of you hoped that he would just prepare a normal dinner with some wine and perhaps, bed you after a few too many glasses. Alas, such a thing was preposterous to hope for.

As you sat by the fireplace in the lavish room that Mohg had offered you to stay in, you were transported out of your book and your thoughts to the sound of knuckles– large ones– rapping against your door ever so gently. You knew it was Mohg and were quick to set aside your book, hurrying to the door and pulling it open cautiously. Your jaw nearly fell off your face at the sight before you. Mohg had put on his nicest ceremonial robes and very clearly washed his horns since you could no longer spot random spots of dry blood.

“Little dove… may I guide you to your surprise?”

Once again you were forced out of your thoughts when he reached a hand out to you. His other was behind his back and as you took his free hand you quickly found out the reason for the hiding of his other hand. Mohg carefully revealed at LEAST a dozen bouquets worth of blood roses combined into one large bouquet. You gaped at the gesture and the sheer size. It was so utterly adorable.

“Oh- Mohg that is so sweet-!”

You exclaimed as he led you away from the doorway and into a part of his palace that looked over the landscape. Mohg chuckled as he stopped in front of a large blanket covered in snacks, treats, and food. All of them were your favorites. Mohg gently placed the bouquet next to the blanket as he helped you to sit. You were all too shocked to find words. If Varre thought this was inexperienced you hesitated to think what he thought experienced would be.

As you rested against the blanket you watched as Mohg carefully lowered himself across from you. He seemed utterly pleased with himself and it drew a giggle from your lips. Once he was fully sat, you crawled to him and knelt in front of him.

“My heart… this is so wonderful… I am so thankful for your beautiful soul”

Mohg immediately leaned toward you as your hands came to rest against his legs. He seemed to stare for a moment as if searching for permission before he carefully brought you into his lap and pulled the treats, snacks, and food closer.

“I was not sure if this would be enough… I may not be able to take you anywhere outside of where my dynasty resides, but I wish for you to feel special, regardless”

You could feel heat rise to your cheeks as Mohg’s words sunk in, his clawed fingers tracing circles into your back. You melted into his gentle touches and let out a sigh of content. As you tilted your head up to look at him, a smile graced your lips and he swore his heart could burst then and there.

“My heart… I always feel special with you…”

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 27

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

The incense smell only had him shaking his legs even faster, while he tried to avoid lying his eyes on any of the mystical objects that were spread all over the room.

Sageous was written on one of the plates hanging next to the bohemian rags hanging next to the window, which was covered with a dark lilac curtain. Was that her name? After so many months visiting her, it was the first time he was aware of the name she used to advertise herself to her public.

—Let me guess —the old lady started, taking the seat in front of him while dragging the cards over the small rounded table—: another round to confirm you're free like a bird in a cage?

—Actually... —he opposed, shyly looking down— My questions are a bit different this time. There's this girl... and I think I messed things up with her.

For the first time since he started those weekly visits, Jungkook was asking about someone else that wasn't himself, looking for an answer that gave out he was indeed leaving that curse behind because of Y/n.

—Shuffle —the lady signaled him to do, changing her tired expression from a serious one just by hearing the way that session started—. Do not cross legs, do not cross arms, and focus your energy on what worries you.

His fingers moved skillfully over the table, picking up every card spread to pile them up on his right hand while he mixed them with his other hand.

—What I have with her is illogical. She isn't even my type —he started—. She's a freak who always needs to get things done her way. She's impulsive and irrational, and determined and confident. She knows what she wants, and she gets so excited when she succeeds —he realized he started smiling a bit too wide when the cold breeze hit his lower teeth, going back to serious—. We are incompatible. I'm sure.

—What are you here for, then? —Sageous tried to get him to explain.

With a playful grin, she motioned him to give her back the cards. Her thin fingers started shuffling those same cards at the same time her eyes closed, shuffling skillfully while she took in all the energy he allowed to share.

—I sense she has a really powerful aura, doesn't she? That woman ain't no joke —she chuckled—. The type of person that doesn't bow down to anyone, especially you —one of her eyes opened, giving Jungkook a funny look—. That's what got you so hooked, huh? She doesn't come to you when you want to, and she doesn't stay when you're begging her. Must be odd for you.

—I never begged her anything —he scoffed, looking away.

—And maybe that's the reason why you're here asking about her and your non-existent relationship —she mocked him, closing her eye back again—. The fool —she dramatically announced when she flipped over the first card.

—I'm starting to think you're trying to tell me something...

—Not me, your guides —she corrected him—. Either way, The Fool represents new beginnings and taking a leap of faith. Very fitting for your situation, no?

Jungkook held back from making the smallest move, thinking it was better to react once everything was set and done.

—The Lovers —she hummed, flipping another card.

As if he wasn't an expert on all the meanings behind those cards, Jungkook smirked, fooling himself with relief at the thought of that meaning being something positive.

—Hold your horses, lover boy —she teased him, bursting every sight of hope—. In your context, it means your relationship with this girl will become a turning point in your life. Hmm... tough decisions to be made, and difficult risks to be taken. It'll be scary, but you'll grow a lot if you follow your intuition. Your real one, that one deep inside your brain being held hostage by that little evil one —she let out two other cards to clarify that first one—. With the magician and the knight of pentacles, something you're looking forward to will be coming your way.

His smile immediately infected her, making her smile shortly while shaking her head, going for another card that could clear up all those assumptions that had Jungkook almost jumping on his seat.

Until the tower showed up.

That hum she let out when the fourth card fell over the deck had Jungkook looking over at the table with panic.

—What?

—I see there will be a good connection with this girl. I'm feeling there are more connections to her other than just that attraction.

—Like what? Is it about the curse?

—It could be —she frowned—. I don't know. I see something dark and upsetting, so it could be —Sageous went back to her explanation—. You like her, and she likes you, but there are decisions to be made for it to work out. You'll need to sacrifice some things and proof you aren't playing when it comes to her. Oh, boy, she really knows what she wants —she scoffed—. You said you argued, right?

—I just said that I messed things up.

—Uh-hum. I see there will be a bridge that will bring you closer again. But there's an event, there's something here —she pointed at the Tower card—. It's destructive. I don't know how serious it'll be, but it'll make the two of you rethink a lot of things.

—Can you pull another card?

Although he regretted that question when the Death card covered the ones that had him smiling like a fool.

—Something will need to end for something new to begin —she shrugged—. It could mean you'll have to cut some habits, or change some manners.

—Or it could mean things with Y/n will end before they even start... Could this also be related to the curse?

—It could be. Your energy must be chaotic for the cards to be mixing things about the curse and your relationship with this girl though.

It was indeed chaotic.

—Fate isn't set in stone —she said, dropping her cards back on the table—. This is your path with the decisions you've made until now, but any small change from now till the moment it happens can change a lot of things —her words tried to sound optimistic—. Not because you've been avoiding love until now, it means you will keep doing it. Take this as a reality check, and start working on yourself so next time you come you receive nothing but good news.

—So should I try to reach out to her? Yeah?

—An apology is always a good start —she shrugged.

Jungkook stood, with a breaded smile that hid how upset he actually felt over those news, heading to the door with mixed feelings.

—And don't forget to pay on your way out! —she warned him as he crossed the corridor—Mystical advice doesn't come free, you know!

While giggling, he dropped the money of the session inside the payment jar next to her door, exiting her house with a subtle bow and a dimpled smile.

It was obvious he needed to do something to get Y/n back -it wasn't like she was ever with him, but it was his way of explaining a difficult situation he didn't quite understand himself. He needed something that would excite her so much that she'd be willing to listen to him -not apologize, because he knew Y/n was way too hard to reach to earn her with just a random thing.

He needed something, but what?

And while he played with the chain on his neck, he saw it crystal clear. The silver necklace fell over his black t-shirt while he stopped on his tracks, lips parting in surprise at how fast his brain worked whenever it came to Y/n.

He was sure he wouldn't have found a solution to his problems that quickly if they hadn't been encouraged by just the image of her.

His solution was simple: a necklace that could make her feel closer to her brother, and which she was upset to see go back again as he dragged her out of the warehouse to protect her. He just needed to make some calls, pay a few visits that morning, and probably that chain would be inside an envelope on its way to its real owner.

And he knew exactly how to get it.

He didn't bother to go to the gym, he didn't bother to go back to his place, because he knew where to find the person he needed.

—Jungkook —Hashim sighed, answering his call straight away—. Hey, I know I owe you money, but...

Jungkook didn't hear any of his excuses. He had been done trying to get any cent from him after he kept coming up with one excuse after the other, indifferent towards every warning he was told. He tried to walk on his shoes, forgiving every payment in his gym until he couldn't take it any more -mainly because the rest of the trainees started getting some hints about it.

—Forget the money —he cut him off—. I need something better from you.

He was convinced he had seen that man before around his gym, and one of the few last times he was seen randomly talking to Hashim before he started his training, or later when he was about to leave.

It took him less than twenty minutes to show up to the location he was sent, chuckling while he thought there was nothing more desperate than a person that owed big money, while also being threatened with Elijah's name and the two gorillas that always did the dirty work.

The hardware store was empty when he stepped inside after parking the motorbike next to the door, eyeing over the short corridors that reached his eyes from the door.

The same man showed up, cleaning his hands with a rag while looking up at the tall man that had just stepped inside his establishment. His customer service smile dropped as soon as he squinted his eyes, recognizing Jungkook's tattoos.

—The Doberman of Busan —he greeted, dropping the old rag over the counter—. What brings you here?

—I was looking for something —he casually said, picking one of the mallets hanging on the metallic wall—. And I thought that you'd help me.

—More like you're the one who owes me an apology after your girlfriend punched me on the face —he threatened back with a calm tone.

—I bet the police would love to know about the scheme you do with the drugs under this counter.

—Hope you have proof of that.

Jungkook chuckled, holding the mallet to hit it against the wooden counter, denting through the material and causing some superficial fractures. If Hashim was useful for something, it was to get that type of information.

He was planning on breaking his teeth, one by one, until he finally gave up, but he didn't want to waste any energy and well-being on someone like Tyjon.

Two, three, four... and the proofs he was asking for were shown all over the extreme Jungkook was standing against.

—I wouldn't be acting so smartass when I know what you do, too.

—As far as I know, you have no proof of me being anywhere. While I have it as easy as making a quick call to the police and waiting here until I see your ass taken to prison —he tilted his head—. Not to mention... how would you know I'm in those fights if you didn't frequent those places either? —with a grimace, he spoke again— 'Didn't think things through, I see.

—What do you want?

—The necklace she asked you to give her yesterday. That's what I want.

Tyjon mumbled some incomprehensible words while he just handed out the necklace in his pocket, resting his hands on the edge of the counter while he felt his blood boiling with Jungkook's satisfied smirk.

Five dollars flew over the counter a few seconds later, following the mallet.

—I broke the mallet a little, and the model didn't really convince me —he twisted his lips—. Have a good day.

He only needed to send Y/n a text, and convince her to speak to clear things up, and things would be done between them.

Her pen was hysterically hitting the desk, on the spot right next to her keyboard, letting out the anxiety that rushed her brain with the unwanted thoughts that kept going through her head. The words from the previous night kept replaying, ringing in her ears as if she were just hearing them all over again while in the office.

She was angry at Jungkook, but she was even angrier at herself for letting her guard down with someone she knew she couldn't show any sign of weakness to. She was smarter than that, or so she thought. She assured herself she was able to see that man coming from miles away, reading through all his signs to get ahead of his actions before they could even cross his mind.

Yet there she was, thinking about that big mistake that man was, when she kept reiterating she'd focus on work only, while trying to find out more about those fights and their relation to her brother and his death.

After she arrived at the hotel room the previous night, she kept insisting she wouldn't let that little problem affect her. She assured herself it wouldn't be a burden to her. She was even convinced it was the excuse she needed to stick her head in her work and the investigation, yet it seemed like it was something that only worked with words that got lost in the air.

She had bigger problems to worry about, way bigger than a simple love story that she knew would take her nowhere.

Jungkook was everything that was wrong with the male species. He was childish, irresponsible, annoying, impulsive, egocentric, and a player. He was the reddest of the flags, with a huge sign that warned her to stay away.

Hell, she should've seen that outcome coming with the little she had known from him.

A huff left her lips, trying to calm herself down from the pile of negative thoughts that were making her blood boil and her body move nervously on her seat. She clicked her tongue with pain when an electric shock ran through her wrist to the tip of the fingers of her right hand, reminding her of what a bad idea it was to punch someone in the face when she had no protection in her hand.

The previous night was awful: that fight with Jungkook, she hurt her hand, she lost her brother's necklace again...

Her head moved up as if something had lit up with that thought, remembering the situation that had Jungkook getting in between and pulling her away so the problem wouldn't get any bigger.

That conversation...

—Y/n? —Jason answered, confused.

—Hey, sorry to be bothering you.

—Don't be stupid. You never bother me —he chuckled—. What's up?

—Can I ask you a question?

—Sure.

—The other day I was checking on some of Noah's old documents —she started her lie, covering up herself from everything she had been doing the past few months—, and something got my attention —after hearing his best friend's name, Jason prolonged his silence—. Did Noah have heart problems?

—Y/n...

—Did he?

—Yeah —he finally sighed—. His heart kept going weaker after each fight, and he was determined to give up that life after he paid all the bills.

—But?

—But his heart was so weak and fucked up that he needed a heart transplant. So he went back to the fights when he was offered half of what he needed to pay for all those bills, and his girlfriend...

—Wait, girlfriend?

Jason stayed a few seconds in silence again, sighing after he realized how deep he messed up when giving up information he shouldn't have.

—Y/n.

—My brother had a girlfriend no one knew about, he had a heart disease no one knew about, don't come up with that shitty tone now —she stopped him, looking around to lower her voice when she noticed a few eyes on her.

—Noah wanted to introduce her to you when he got better. He barely spent any time with you himself the last months of life because he hated what boxing did to him —he admitted—. He wanted to wait for the surgery to let you all know everything. But he didn't make it out of his last fight.

—And what about her?

—She personally asked me not to tell anyone about her, because she didn't want to make things harder for you and your mother.

—And you seriously didn't think of telling me after all this time? I don't know.

—Y/n, understand, Noah didn't want to make things difficult. And Elia knew it was going to be hard for you to accept all those secrets from Noah, so it was just better for her to go on with life.

—I'm... this is nuts... Are you justifying it?

—I'm saying I understand them, and I understand you —he quickly shut down.

The thick silence floated through their mics, when neither of them knew how to go on with the bit of information that was exposed that day.

—I need to go —Y/n finally spoke.

She didn't get to hear Jason say goodbye, because her finger hung up the call before he could even say a word.

Of course his brother was hiding more than what she thought. She should've known when she and her mother knew about the illegal fights only after they rushed to the hospital because Noah was suffering a cardiac arrest. Only for all of that to be followed with it heading the news. As usual: displaying the victim, over mentioning the cause, but never going too deep into details on who were the real responsibilities of that.

Two of her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose when she heard the notification from her phone, thinking that it was Jason insisting on speaking with her deeper into the situation when they got time.

Jungkook.

Just seeing his name made her roll her eyes, but she still clicked on the notification to read the whole thing and, who knows, maybe distract her from everything she had found out.

Jungkook: I didn't mean what I said yesterday. I know I'm an asshole, and I wouldn't speak to me if I were you. But since you're a better person than me... can we meet up?

Jungkook: Tell me where you are and I'll pick you up.

She let out a tired scoff as she read that message. That was exactly what she was thinking of not doing.

Jungkook: I have something for you. Please, let me know if you want to talk.

She was indeed going somewhere else after work. She needed to free her mind from all the worries and the overload of thoughts she was going through, but it wasn't going to be Jungkook the one helping her with that.

Nope.

The only things that'd help her were four Gintonics, three shots of Tequila, and seeing Donna losing it after she showed up at Alma's bachelorette party after she told them she wouldn't attend.

That was the way she'd cope with all of her problems that night. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[blissfulip]

Dopamine

on AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut.

Cw: mentions of sexual themes, alcohol consumption

Words: 2k

[A/N: tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly. (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

Previous Next

Chapter 3: Between rage and something else

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous. Nervous didn’t even cut it at this point, you were dreading this meeting, and not even a pep talk from Moira (and her pep talks were known to be incredibly effective) helped get your usual confidence back. You scolded yourself the entirety of your walk there; how can you let someone as non threatening as Viktor shake your grounds so easily? It’s not like he would ever ‘win’ any of your fights, it’s not like…shake it off, you idiot. The voice in your head was correct, though. You never allowed him to make you flustered or visibly annoyed, but this recent excessive and prolonged contact with him had been proving to be much more than you could handle.

Nevertheless, the matter being official Academy business gave you no choice but to withstand his many attempts at slandering your work and being simply vexatious and arrogant. Many a deep breath later, you entered the café. He was sitting on a table near the farthest wall and did not seem to have noticed your entrance until you approached him. 

“You are late.”

“It’s 1:07” 

“You said 1:00, my time is valuable.”

“I apologize, I’m sure you have many things to do at the lab,” you said, making sure the sarcasm in your voice came through. 

He was unable to retort since, before you could even sit on the chair opposite him, a waitress was already standing next to the table with a wide grin. 

“Welcome! How are you two doing today?”

“I’m wonderful, thank you.” You tried as hard as you could to let go of the frown you’d been carrying and be as nice as possible to her, Viktor answering with a polite smile as well. 

“That is so great to hear! Can I get you something to start?”

“Just drip coffee and sweet milk for him.” Viktor was initially annoyed that you had spoken over him, but his feelings soon changed into unfiltered confusion. 

“Sure thing! I'll be back with those in a minute, let me know if you need anything else.” She said and then disappeared among the group of people at the counter who were taking their orders to go. 

“How did you know?”

“What?”

“What I wanted to order”

“What do you mean? It’s literally all you drink,” You said in a dismissive tone that just made him even more puzzled. You would’ve dropped the matter there if his expression wasn’t so utterly perplexed. “Viktor, just because I don’t like you, it doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Right, eh, I got the notebook, where would you like to start?” He said, trying to deflect. 

“Why can’t I write?”

“I got the notebook first, I write. And my handwriting is better anyway.”

“Fine, I asked Heimerdinger how many days we were allotted for the conference, and he said we needed to have it all on the same day, but we could get two different venues in the same place to split the different disciplines.”

“Why is that necessary?”

“I doubt the people who attend to see the chemistry presentations will be interested in sticking around for the arts talk, so rather than having people stand up and leave, we can split the disciplines into two different venues”

“Hm, sure.” He said, opening the notebook to start scribbling down, “Chemistry, engineering and biology on one venue, arts, history and language on the other.”

"Exactly,” You started to say before being gracefully interrupted by the sweet waitress with your drinks.  

“Here’s yours, and here’s the drip coffee, are we all good?”

“Yes, everything is perfect, thank you so much”

“No problem at all! And can I just say you two are such a lovely couple? I haven’t seen a couple go out with matching outfits in so long, it makes me so giddy to see!”

“We are not—” Viktor was quick to answer, but you were quicker.

“—matching, this is our work uniform. Maybe we should go out with matching outfits one day, though, that sounds so fun! Right, my love?” 

Shock is not a strong enough word to describe what Viktor was going through at the moment, his ears red with embarrassment and his silence deafening.  

“Don’t mind him; he’s shy,” you said, shooting her a warm smile as she did the same and turned to leave once again.

There was another minute of muted annoyance in Viktor's eyes, contrasting with the smug chuckle you let out. 

“Are you out of your mind? What was that about?”

“What? That was hilarious,” You said, shrugging.

“Why do you always do that? What is so fun about being a mythomaniac?”

“I don’t always do that, only to get out of uncomfortable situations. Can you imagine how awkward she would’ve felt if we had corrected her? She’s happy, and I got to see you flustered, so I’m happy; everyone wins!”

“I’m not— Whatever. Stop doing that."

“So, about scheduling, we need to decide the order of the speakers.” You said, still with a smirk on your lips. Viktor nearly sighed in relief.

“For venue number one, I think it should be me, biology second and you third.”

“There is no way I’m going last; I want to leave as early as possible, not to mention the bio students are probably going to be the largest crowd, so if anything, he should go last to retain the audience for as long as possible.”

“There’s the same amount of students in all disciplines.”

“I’m talking about the turnout on the day of, more people are going to show up for him.” 

“How can you be so sure of that? You don’t even remember his name.”

“First of all, neither do you, and second of all, he is hot; all the students swoon over him.”

“That’s preposterous.” There was a tinge of more annoyance in his eyes. 

“If you paid attention to anything other than those little blue crystals, you would’ve noticed.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not a good enough reason to change the schedule”

“Why can’t it be me, him, and you, then? You can close off the show, rock star!”

“We can both write out proposals for the order and present them to the others at our next group meeting; the best one wins.”

“Ugh, everything is a competition for you, isn’t it?” You said now visibly annoyed.

This comment seemed to irk him differently than usual; perhaps he felt you were right, or perhaps he felt hurt by your comment, but either way, it seemed to have worn him down. A sigh of resignation and a massage on his temples later, and he was apparently ready to give up. 

“Have it your way then, princess.” 

_____________________________________

This had an effect on you, but definitely not the one he intended. After writing the order of the schedule down and ironing out some other details, you offered to take this information to Lara so she could design the material for advertising. You would’ve gone to the art labs (more like studios, but they all called them labs since every researcher workspace was in the same wing of the Academy), but for obvious reasons you couldn’t, so you made plans to meet up at her dorm that very night.

Lara was as fun as you expected. Moira had been your only friend at the Academy for years. You always preferred to keep to yourself, and although Jayce was your friend too, technically, his proximity to Viktor made it difficult for you to hang around his work space without starting any fights, so hanging out with someone new felt refreshing. 

The work meeting was quick. After you had settled into one of the comfortable puff chairs scattered throughout the small room, she began to offer you drinks and food. One gossip session later, she offered you one of her tiny nightgowns, and before you noticed, you were having a full-on slumber party. 

It felt good to relax like this. You chastised Viktor a lot for being too obsessed with his work, but you weren’t too far off from that yourself, not having had a night to wind down with friends in at least a year. She made cocktails that tasted like sweet nectar and fruit too, so it was so easy for the both of you to be way over tipsy when you heard a knock on the door that she went to answer. 

“Guess what, sweetheart! It's your worst enemy!” You heard her scream from over at the door and then come over, slightly tumbling, with a very confused Viktor on one arm. "Come, come, come, err... want a drink? Some chips? We’re havin’ some chips, aren’t we, hun? Here, have some chips..."

“Eh, no, thank you; I just came over to correct a mistake I made on the notes I sent her with. It should’ve said 6:00 pm instead of 8 p.m. on the first time slo— “

"Yeah, yeah, tell me again tomorrow, though I won’t remember,” Lara said again in between giggles as she let go of his arm and sat down on the bed. 

Throughout all of this, you stayed silent, looking up at him as you sank into one of the puffs. He blushed for a second time that day, as you noticed, and he made it a point to look at the floor every time Lara spoke. When he looked at you, even though you tried to repress it, you smiled in amusement. 

“Can you at least write it down?” He told you. 

“I’ll write it down, yeah,” You said, crossing your legs. 

“Now?”

“Are you in a rush, Vik?” You said standing up lazily.

There’s a kind of blushing that bares the soul— Not the kind where one’s embarrassed; you’ve seen that on Viktor plenty of times as it settled on his ears—the kind where you could see pink and peach and red all mix to boil over his cheeks. You didn’t know for sure, but the crinkle of his nose and the long but broken-up breath he took showed something beyond simple timidness, something darker. 

Perhaps it was the scanty lace of your nightgown and your own spirit-induced rosy cheeks, or maybe you had unlocked in him a new level of rage. You wanted to see it again, that was for sure, whatever the cause was.  

“You two seem to be having a lot of fun; write down the correct time, and I’ll be on my way”

And that you did, you had a lot more time to figure this out in your next meetings. He turned and left through the door as soon as he made sure the information was recorded, and you were left to silently ponder what you had just seen while you continued to have fun with Lara. 

----------------------------------------------------------

Viktor heel-and-toe raced all the way back to his dorm as fast as his legs allowed him. From the outside, it would seem he was trying to run away from something, and in a way he was. He thought maybe leaving the place was good enough to leave that feeling behind, but alas, it wasn't. 

Only when the door handle did not turn did he notice his palms were sweating, and it went downhill from there. Every step he took inside his room came with a new realization. He sat in the dark for a while; his skin felt a little too much like skin, his heart was incredibly squeezed and restricted sitting in his throat, and his face was hot enough to boil the sweat dripping down his forehead. He would’ve mistaken this for unbridled rage in any other circumstance, he could have, if it hadn’t been for the uncomfortable feeling of tightness in his pants.

The line was so blurry, he thought, between rampant fury and arousal, they shared the same place in the brain and produced some of the same hormones. But this was not supposed to happen. There was so much more about you to loathe than to like, or at least that’s what he had always believed. 

Perhaps this is why it feels so good to hate her, Viktor thought. 

However, this felt like letting you win. And if you were right about something, it was that Viktor was competitive. A cold shower should do it. 

[im-not-corrupted]

@samsalami66 very kindly gave me another prompt for a new Dreamling fic--Can I do your hair? from this list of prompts.

Features: human au, too much pining, Dream on the aromantic spectrum, childhood friends, developing friendship, and so many feelings!

-------

The sun is already low in the sky when he asks, evening setting in far too quickly for Dream’s liking.

The question comes as quite the surprise. Dream doesn’t quite know why, exactly—they have been steadily growing closer over the last few months, since they reunited after a good many years apart. It is a strange thing to go from close friends to nothing but tentative strangers after years apart. There is familiarity, of course—not everything changes. Some things remain the same.

Most things do not. Dream recalls the way he saw Hob after their numerous years apart. He did so with an entirely different light, though whether that perspective came with age or that distance, he doesn’t know. It was simply that he saw Hob grin at him—small and tentative, unsure despite the confidence he held himself with, a beautiful study in contrasts—for the first time in years, and it did something to him. Stirred something within him, something that remained stubbornly latent until that one moment.

It was something to do with his eyes, Dream thinks. Hob has lovely eyes. Russet brown with specks of gold. They are made for sunlight and seem to crystallise its rays in their irises, all brilliant colours that manage to take his breath away each and every time. They are gentle, hopeful things, those eyes, and made even more beautiful by the soft lines in their corners. Crows feet, barely noticeable but there. Those were not there when they were children, and serve now as proof that they both grew older, but also that Hob has spent these last years away from one another happy.

There is a jealousy to be found there, in the idea that he has been unable to contribute to this joy. He has found the act of bringing smiles onto Hob’s face almost addictive—they are blinding in their brilliance, precious gems Dream just knows he will treasure until the end of time. He wants to be the one to bring him further joy, and wishes he was there to do so during their years apart.

Yet Dream has duties to his family. He could not forsake them, not even for Hob. (He wishes to. They meet every fortnight since their reunion. Dream creeps out the palace, takes his mare from the stables and rides to their obscure meeting place, where Hob is always—always, without fail—waiting for him. The sight always makes his heart ache in his chest, and when they say goodbye…When they say goodbye, Dream wishes he could follow Hob. Wishes he could follow the steps of his childhood friend who he had become ridiculously attached to, a bond that is so terribly unwise he knows he should not continue to meet him yet finds himself unable to not do so. He wishes he could forsake every duty that has ever been placed upon his shoulders and see what life away from the palace might be like—what a life with Hob might be like.

He imagines it to be wondrous. Hob’s stories have always been so…so full of adventure, the tales he spins so full of drama and excitement and everything the palace is not. He wishes he could experience that, if only once.)

In the end, that faint amount of jealousy—the idea that he should be the one to inspire joy inside of Hob, the selfish thought that he has missed so much—it all faded away into gladness. He is happy that Hob has been happy in their time away. He is glad his friend gets to have that, and gets to have enough of it that it has made a permanent mark upon his face.

That, Dream thinks, is enough.

So they have grown closer, these last few months since their reunion. It started tentatively, with unsure steps, a little like walking on eggshells. For Dream, though much about Hob remains the same, the differences are large enough that, at first, he was terribly unsure of himself. There is Hob, with his new-found confidence, with arrogance that suits him instead of feeling obnoxious or annoying like half arrogant nobles back at the palace, with his new-found strength and tanned skin from years spent in the sun, with easy smiles that look so natural on his face. And then there is Dream, who is, for all intents and purposes, much the same. He still dresses in black, as he did when they were younger. He still finds court to be stifling, frustrating, a cage he has yet to escape and one he fears may crush him someday. He still argues with his parents, though admittedly far more politely than he used to, about duties and marriage and all the things that were predetermined for him the moment of his birth. He still wanders the halls of the palace a little like a ghost, stays quiet when he is expected to raise his voice, and is perpetually terrified that he is not enough. For his kingdom, for his family, for anybody he truly cares for.

When he thinks about them like that, it is clear that the two of them are so different. It seemed a foolish idea, that the two of them could be friends, that they could rekindle what they once had. Dream missed him dearly in their years apart, of course—Hob was one of the few things that made his life bearable, along with the books inside the Library and Jessamy. But in that first moment, the day of their reunion, he was sure that he was so much lesser than Hob. That Hob would see it and spit at his feet and simply leave.

That did not happen. For all his fears, all his uncertainty, things were just as easy that day of their reunion as they were the day Hob left. They learned what parts of them had changed, decided they still fit together, and they formed a friendship that now seemed stronger than the one they left behind when Hob had to leave.

It is a blessing, Dream thinks. He thanks the stars that Hob decided, however foolishly, that he is worth befriending. That he is worth knowing.

Still. Growing friendship or not, Dream was not expecting Hob to state at him for a couple of moments and ask, abruptly, “Can I do your hair?”

He blinks, taking a moment to register the question. He replied with a quiet, “…What?” because, truly, he is unsure he heard correctly.

Despite all his confidence, gained from years of befriending people with nothing but a smile, Hob sometimes manages to be so unconfident sometimes. This is one of those moments—his eyes widen fast enough to almost be comical, staring at Dream like he had made a grave mistake, before his face turns red. Distantly, Dream wonders at that, at the way it appears so becoming on him. It compliments the tan skin of his face and Dream wants to see more of it, though isn’t entirely sure where that impulse came from.

“Sorry,” Hob says sheepishly. “Only—your hair is so pretty. I had the sudden urge to braid it. I know that may be…weird? Just. Forget that I asked?”

”No,” he says, and, truly, he is unsure where the word came from. Only, he is not opposed in the slightest to the idea of Hob’s hands in his hair. They’re tough hands, scarred and callused from years of soldiering, yet they have only ever treated Dream with an unfamiliar tenderness he craves. The few touches they have shared are memorable solely due to this—to the carefulness with which Hob touches him. Not like he is a delicate, breakable thing, but instead like he is something worth treasuring. He did not think there was a difference between those two things until Hob Gadling pulled him in for a hug the day they reunited, one arm around Dream’s waist and the other cradling his head.

It is a moment that has changed him, he thinks. Because now that he has been offered more of those touches, more of that gentleness, he wants it. He is familiar with want. It is a great burning thing inside of his chest. He does not want with any kind of moderation, and he wants so much of it that the wanting has nowhere to go.

But it has a direction now. He thinks of Hob’s hands in his hair, of the loveliness with which Hob would no doubt do this with, and he wants. Which is why he looks at Hob, at the red blossoming across his cheeks, pretty like roses, and he offers softly, “You may. If you truly wish to.”

He watches as a smile full of relief and delight breaks over Hob’s face like the sun at dawn. It feels a little like a miracle to be able to see this, and even more like a blessing to know this is solely his. That, in the end, Hob smiles with such beauty in his direction, and now he is able to keep this close inside his memory and revisit it again and again. “Really?” he asks, and he tugs at his ear in a way that can only be nervous, and Dream thinks this is what it means to be in love. “I only want to if you’d be comfortable with it.”

He has read about it, in books. There are plenty in the library, and it seems to be one of the more common themes. Love. Romance. These are things he has never understood.

He does love, of course. He loves his dear older sister, Telute, who they all call Death. He loves his youngest sister Del. He loves Lucienne even if he is not strictly supposed to, for she treats him less like a prince and more like a person, and that is important. He loves Jessamy, who has taken care of him even when his parents have not.

But romantic love is another thing entirely. He feels a little as though he is incapable of it, and cannot quite understand why. It seems to come so easily to everybody else, after all. It seems to be such a universal experience—has to be that, if there are so many works about those feelings inside the library.

Here, in this moment, he thinks he understands. He wants, only he is not sure what exactly it is he is wanting. He aches with it, with the desire to see Hob’s smile again and again. It is different from friendship, he thinks. It is a little like a wildfire catching, burning bright and beautiful and yet so dangerous.

This thing is large enough to ruin him, he can tell. If he reaches forward and lets his fingertips brush those flames, he will burn.

He offers Hob a smile that feels a little like tempting Hell and figures he will be okay with burning if it means he gets to have more of this. More of these moments, lovely and warm and gentle. More of Hob’s smiles and more of his touches. “I wouldn’t agree if I didn’t want you to,” he points out, and Hob laughs.

It is a loud, joyful thing. Dream wants. He wants to taste that sound for himself. Wants to swallow it and let it take root inside himself so that he has a piece of Hob with him. Wants to press his lips to Hob’s and see if he will be as kind to him then as he is every other time.

”Alright then, my friend,” Hob says, and he is beautiful when he is delighted. It becomes him. He had a face built for joy and a voice made for expressing it. Dream wants as many of these moments as possible. “Sit in front of me?”

Hob crosses his legs where he sits in the meadow, amongst wildflowers that bathe the area in a sweet scent that reminds Dream of all things summer. Of sunlight on his skin, its warmth seeping in through his blood and settling inside his bones. It is heady, and it reminds him also of the early days of his and Hob’s friendship—the times when Hob would convince him to take his horse down to the beach so that they might be able to jump in the sea, the times when Hob would drag him to the market in town and teach him the art of pickpocketing. Each time felt a little like courting danger, for he knew his parents would disapprove of both of those endeavours, but they all felt golden, the days so full with possibility that any bad ending would surely be worth it.

(There were no bad endings, not even when they jumped into the sea. Jessamy found him before his parents ever could and tutted softly at the sight of his sodden clothes, no doubt ruined by sea water, and bid him clean up before anybody else found out. There were no bad endings because Jessamy protected him from them, and Dream is eternally grateful to her.)

And, after a moment’s hesitation, Dream sits between his friend’s crossed legs with an insistent feeling of anticipation. He faces forward, turned towards the gradually setting sun. It is beautiful up here, on top of this hill in the middle of a meadow.

He brings his legs up to his chest, wraps an arm around them. With his other, he picks at the grass beneath them, the green so beautiful and vibrant and lovely. It is a nervous thing, this action, and he feels distantly foolish for it. He is not supposed to appear nervous—he is a prince, after all.

Yet Hob makes him feel like this. Like anything is possible. Makes him nervous, despite all the effort Dream has put into learning how to mask these things.

He does not mind. Hob is…Hob is safe. He knows this.

He does not gasp when he feels Hob’s fingers in his hair, but it is a close thing. The touch is so light, so soft that Dream could melt into it. He does not think it would be entirely appropriate to lose himself like so if he does, but he is tempted. For now, he keeps his eyes on the sun and tells his heartbeat to calm down. It is only Hob.

Except it has never been only Hob, has it? This is Hob he is talking about, after all. He is beautiful and lovely and Dream loves him so much. Perhaps a little more than platonically.

”Is that alright?” Hob asks him. He is…close. Which makes sense, considering their proximity, but being confronted with this so suddenly is almost startling.

It takes him more time than he would like to admit to find his voice. When he does, his voice is small and breathy, and he does not have it in him to feel embarrassed. “Yes.”

Hob hums softly under his breath, and then he starts to braid.

He starts from the top of Dream’s head, so it is certainly no ordinary three-strand braid. He sections the hair carefully, mindful not to tug, and braids with an efficiency that feels practised. Dream did not think this would come out of keeping his hair relatively long out of little more than pure spite and a vague like for the style, but does not mind it at all.

“I used to have a sister, you know,” Hob tells him with an air of wistfulness, like he looks into the past and wishes he could go back as he says it. “She used to demand I braid her hair constantly, so I was forced to learn. Admittedly, I rather enjoyed it. Your hair is perfect for it, too.”

He doesn’t preen at the compliment. He doesn’t. “Used to?” he asks softly, then winces slightly. The use of past tense says enough, does it not? There is no need to drag up old ghosts, and yet, he has done so. Accidentally, and without thinking, but he has. “I apologise. You do not need—“

”Hey.” It is so soft that it stops him in his tracks. “Don’t be. You didn’t know. She died a couple years ago. I miss her very much. You would’ve liked her, I think. I am glad you let me do this. Feels like I’m…remembering her by doing so, if that makes sense.”

Dream thinks it does, and says as much. Hob hugs once more, and the two of them fall silent for a while. There is little more between them than slight rustling of movement from behind him as Hob readjusts himself to continue the braid. More than once, he pauses for a reason Dream is unable to determine.

It is comfortable. Quiet. Dream thinks he would like to do this time and time again, if Hob is amenable.

Eventually, Hob tells him, “It is done,” and Dream immediately regrets having not brought a handheld mirror with him. It feels a crime that he is unable to see Hob’s work with his own eyes.

There is nothing for it. But he reaches behind himself and it feels so neat, so tidy, he knows Hob has done well. Then he runs his fingers over feather-soft petals and asks, “Flowers, too?”

”Yeah. There’s plenty about. They suit you.”

Dream turns to face him once more, and Hob stares at him with an expression he cannot quite read. He wishes he could. He wishes he knew what this is, this growing thing between them. He wishes himself capable of putting it into words.

It is enough, he supposes, to leave this thing between them to its own devices. Perhaps it will make sense, make itself known and understood, at some other point in time. For now, Dream lets himself imagine pressing his lips to Hob’s cheek in the gentlest of kisses, let’s himself wonder if Hob might hold him close with the same gentleness he does everything else, and he decides it does not have to be anything more than what they were already, not necessarily.

”Thank you,” he murmurs softly, and Hob smiles. It is a small, delighted thing. Dream adores the sight of it.

”Anytime, my friend. Anytime.” He settles back a little, resting his back against the grand oak tree they mark their meeting spot by, and says, “Come on. Tell me a story. You’re good at those.”

”I am,” Dream agrees. And Hob asked this of him, so he does. He tells him a story, and eventually, the two of them part ways.

He does not take his hair out until long into the night, where he takes the flowers out carefully and keeps them on his nightstand. They will wither soon, he knows, but for now he keeps them as—as a token of Hob’s friendship, he supposes.

When he sleeps, he dreams of his friend, beautiful and joyful and oh so lovely.

[l-in-the-light]

Love your account ❤️🥰 What do you like best about Law?

Thank you <3 Sorry for the late reply, I was sitting on this one for a while, because I thought giving it time would help me write a better answer. But this is so difficult, because where do I even start? How can I say what I have in my heart so it doesn't actually just sound weak and pretentious, but also not extremely dramatic?

Maybe let's start from the fact I didn't fall for him at first sight. I totally didn't care about him in Sabaody when I first read that arc. The first moment he truly earned my sympathy was his confession in Dressrosa, I went all whoa, I was hoping for some open show of emotions, but I didn't expect this intensity hiding under the surface. Then Wano happend and he was so cool in Wano. And then I caught up with the manga in Egghead arc. He still wasn't my favourite, but things were slowly changing. I started noticing how much I actually miss him in the story. I started worrying for him. Finally, I gave up and just reread his parts from earlier arcs and damn it just hit differently the second time around. Before I noticed it he became one of my top 3 characters. Soon after, he sneakily took the number 1 spot as well without me realizing.

I love how unyielding he is, especially against Doflamingo, someone who constantly gaslights him. And oh boy I have been in that spot before, when a mentor figure tries to push their own way of seeing things without listening even for a moment to other reasons. I'm always surprised by Doflamingo-Law conflict in Dressrosa exactly because of that; Law keeps pushing in what he believes in instead. Even fandom buys Doflamingo's point of view on Law: yes, he's just a pitiful vengeful ghost, he's just lashing out, he needs to be put back into his place and silenced. But no, Law's not having any of that. It feels like a catharsis for me to see that and it restored my own faith, at least a little bit, because if Law could deal with all that shit and didn't truly lose (technically he did, but it was to his own good heart imo), then inevitably I also feel myself becoming more unyielding, it rubs off.

He's so unbelievably strong, but it's not about his attacks or power, but mental strength. And I wish I was at least a bit as strong as him. Between Doflamingo, Law's traumas, fears and putting up a confident front when he feels anything but that, smirking at those who lose to their own arrogance, I'm really amazed he is as strong as he is. And it's not just about him never giving up, because of course he has moments like that, but he always, always gets back up and it's probably never for himself, but for others that are dear to him.

And there's also his resemblance to Ace (and Sabo) somehow, because they're inevitably all older brother types. But while Ace is rough around the edges but his love is so warm, Sabo's soft and supportive but is also a bit self-centered, Law's something else entirely. He's just so avoidant, but at the same time kinda soothing and gently watching from afar, like the moon, you don't usually see it in the day but you know it's always there. That's his kind of love. It's captivating, but it doesn't exactly warm me up when I think about it like when I think of Ace, it doesn't make me feel the fluff like when I think of Sabo, but instead it's like a strong, tingling light that shines not in the sky but inside the heart, when you need it the most: in the middle of utter darkness.

His loyal love to Cora-san, his unobvious but gentle ways of showing affection, his good heart, his sharp smiles and unyielding spirit, reckless and petty paybacks, his shitty and brooding attitude, his serious but trolling sense of humour, I definitely like all of this about him. And sometimes he's just simply insufferable and I enjoy that about him as well. Every time I discover a new thing or detail about him, I like him only more.

[mintymonicaa]

A Sweet Moment

Summary: Leon follows you into your room to have a conversation with you. You seemed to be upset during a party, eventually, this conversation led to something more (This is also a preview) Tags:Bikini sex, Leon is shy at first, Pairing:Leon S.Kennedy x fem!reader Word Count: 1,78k

You could hear the number of people having fun in your house. Those busy conversations and loud chatters all muffled with the loud music. Everyone seemed to be having fun, it’s ironic. They’re supposed to be celebrating you and your last day here and yet you were in your room, alone with Leon. Leon didn’t stop kissing you not for one moment. Maybe if he kept going, he would remember how you felt before you left.

“I wish you’d stayed” Leon whispered in your ear, he was being needy. Usually, he isn’t, and he’s a bit more confident as well. Something about you was driving him crazy, maybe because it was your last day here. Maybe because you were a bit of a forbidden fruit for Leon.

“You’re so sweet Leon,” You said to him gently, while looking into his eyes. He loved how sweet you were being to him right now. He felt like maybe he had actually found the one for a second. Maybe the two of us are meant to be? He would think to himself. His face was flushed, maybe it was because he was previously drinking, but Leon knew it was because of you. He’s not a lightweight, he didn’t even drink much to begin with. Leon gave you a low grunt, he felt his hips buck a bit towards your thighs. He wanted to be with you, to be inside of you badly.

“Can..Can I?” He looked at you with pleading eyes, he wanted to make sure you were okay with it first. He was pretty turned on by the entire situation, his cock felt heavy. It was like he was being manipulated by his sexual desires at this point. He desired you.

“Can you what? You have to be more vocal about what you want Leon” You looked up at him, he thought you were being so forward with him again. You wanted to force it out of him, it was working, even if he thought it was humiliating. He felt his cock twitch a bit against your thigh, you felt it too and just smirked at him. It was like you were taunting him.

“Are you seriously..going to make me say it?” He replied a bit frustrated and embarrassed, it felt so dirty to him having to say everything on his mind. He blinked a couple of times, he scrunched his nose up a little. He looked and saw your expression, you were being serious.

“I want to fuck you..can we?” He sounded a bit ashamed of himself for saying it. It was the first time Leon had sex with you, so obviously he was nervous. The way you stared at him as if you were pulling him in with your eyes. It only made him feel more nervous. He felt small in your hands, at this moment. You were just too gorgeous.

Quickly you replied back with a sultry tone. “And how exactly do you want me?”

Leon stuttered a bit, he felt like you cornered him onto the wall. Leon has had hookups in the past and he’s had sex too. So why was he so embarrassed? It was the talk, the conversation. Usually, he just gets to work and does the deed, but you’re making him be so honest. It’s turning him on even more. He might discover new kinks with you.

“I want to put urgh…this is humiliating” He groaned frustrated and looked back at you, you placed your hand on his chest. His look changed and he felt a bit more bold. It's just us two..so it should be fine right? He thought to himself.

“I want to put my cock inside of you y/n…I want to make you feel good.” He said it, it felt like a relief when he said it. He can’t believe it.

“You want to feel my pussy wrapped around you? To hold me?” You teased him even more, he was starting to lose it. I have a feeling, Leon would do a lot of risky things for you.

God, this woman, she’s something else. Leon thinks to himself.

“Yes, I do” He confirmed it as if he were in a trance. He pulled down his swimming trunks and he was finally exposed. The tip of his cock hitting his lower stomach, you could see that it was covered in pre cum already. It looked thick, you looked at it. For a moment, you questioned if he could actually fit inside of you. He was bigger than what you saw, it wasn’t length but rather girth.

“Look, I’m so hard right now” He wanted you to look at him, to think that he was sexy. It made him feel good, feel confident in himself. A part of him was nervous, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you were thinking. Did you think he was ugly down there? Should he have shaved? His happy trail was sticking out, he puffed his chest a bit. He waited for you to say something or do something.

“Do you like me that much Leon? Fuck…you look amazing” You sighed breathily, you thought he looked absolutely gorgeous. He was really sexy when you complimented him. He felt his heart flutter at that, his cock got harder if that was possible.

“Am I really okay for you?” He said so sweetly, wondering if he was actually enough for you at this moment. It made your heart feel bad like you wanted to grab him and just squeeze him. Leon was being so cute and you wanted to torment him longer, but you couldn’t deny that you were too horny to wait. Also, you’re pretty sure that time is running out. You have to be quick.

“You’re more than enough for me Leon” You gave him a quick wet kiss on his lips and he felt like his loneliness was going away. He felt like he was enough for someone, he loves that. “We’re going to have to be quick okay? People might look for us soon” you said to him in his ear, your lips moving so closely that it tickled his ear. That’s another thing about Leon, he’s ticklish.

“I wish I could just keep you a bit longer..you’re so gorgeous..” Leon said to you, in a trance. His hands would hover over your body, looking at your bikini. He thought of just undressing you but he didn’t know if you were okay with it. Instead, he placed his hand on your slit, covered by your bikini. Moving the lower part to the side, your full pussy on view for him. He saw everything, your clit, how wet you were. He gulped silently and was so eager to have you, his shame and his worries going away. He was too into you to remember even his morals right now.

“I’m going to put it in now alright”. Leon maintained eye contact while saying that, for some reason, you felt nervous. Leon was bigger than what you’d seen, you kept wondering how it would feel. You felt him slowly go inside, his mouth gaping a bit. His eyebrows went lower than usual as he felt your pussy wrap around his length. You saw his blue eyes shine when he thrust himself inside entirely. Maybe it was the position he was in or the angle, but Leon was genuinely a gorgeous man. It’s ironic how he lacked social skills.

“You feel amazing,” The tall blonde man said to you in a bit of a gasp. You felt his cock twitch inside of you, it’s practically begging to move. He held up your legs to the side of his waist, making you wrap around him. Then he lowered himself and finally went straight to your neck. At first, he took a big whiff of you, inhaling how you smelled. Then he slowly started to lick and kiss your neck. He was kissing your neck gently.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, curious about your pleasure too. He wants to see you lose it too, and you just nodded. You had to pretend as if he wasn’t making your stomach turn. Him being inside of you felt too good, almost like you could see yourself get addicted to him.

He thrusted inside of you, he began to move. His fingers dug into your skin gently, gripping your thighs as he thrusted. He was going in and out slowly at first, then you gave him a needy look.

“Leon..please, I need you to go faster” You looked absolutely beautiful to him in this moment. When you said that, it was like someone poured honey down his ears. He kissed you on your lips and thrusted harder and faster. If your house wasn’t filled with people that were partying, you could hear the lewd slaps. Leon was happy to be doing this with you, he smirked as he saw you moan. This was a face he wanted to see, such a sensual expression. He thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful and you did.

You moaned out his name and he thrusted deeper, he was trying his hardest to not cum inside of you yet and hold back. He wanted to feel you more, to taste you more. For once, he wanted to be selfish when it came to you.

“Gorgeous, you’re just so gorgeous y/n” He slowed his pace and moved your hair to the side. His entire gaze focused on you, one of his hands went from your thighs to the inside of your crotch. Placing a finger on your clit, he slowly rubbed in circles and carefully analyzed your reactions. When he saw you twitch and place a hand on your mouth to muffle a moan. He repeated that same action, realizing that he found a sweet spot.

“Oh, what's that? Did I find a sensitive spot of yours love?”, Leon teased you, his voice lower than usual. He couldn’t help but tease you. He thought you were cute, you look like a feast for him.

“You’re doing so so good, taking all of me…God look at you” Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and was starting to feel bold now. He might be socially awkward but Leon is a great lover. He was making you feel crazy, you were close and you could feel yourself on the edge. You were about to cum, but you also wanted to play with him more. This game isn’t over, Leon thinks you’re sweet and gentle. Which you can be, but it doesn’t mean that you are. You just know how to pretend to be a good girl, but you’re a devil.

[mylesimeblr]

Aged Up: after everyone learned Spider saved Quaritch (who goes on to lead the ash tribes) and kick Spider out as a traitor, but Spider joins the ash tribe as Tsahik, and comes back years later to help the other tribes when they beg for the Ash clans help. Whom ever is paired in this ship, Mets the ash Na’vi that Varang wants to Spider to mate with.

I just love the idea of this with any of the pairs, Aocorro, Locorro or Nocorro.

Ok, I love this one and funny enough I was currently writing a Locorro/Aocorro story aged up future fic with Spider as a (very, very badass) Dragonborn/Mother of Dragons and FUNNY enough too they were actually based on red-skinned Na'vi (were you in my head?!) (I'm not kidding I'm 10 pages into this already!)

However, it was kind of dark (honestly, I based it on Game of Thrones so Spider is not having a good time at the beginning then he becomes basically a God leading all the Na'vi tribes against the human cities and Lo'ak and Aonung live alone to serve him)

But based on this ask, here's how it goes:

After Spider is kicked out, he struggles to survive alone in the wild and after weeks of surviving on his own, he's found by red-skinned Na'vi

At first, they're really not friendly and more or less happy stuff happen to Spider with the clan before they discover he has a gift and strange connection to Ewya when saving Varang from near death and Spider becomes one of their own, his strange humanity/power making him unique and very respected

Time skip - rumors start running of a powerful Tsahik rising in the south

When things start getting complicated with the Sky People, Jake and Tonowari have no choice but to ask for their help and the help of their powerful Tsahik

Varang accepts on the condition that their fiercest warrior mates with the tsahik

Everyone agrees even if Lo'ak is a little reluctant at being mated by "force" with some girl he doesn't know (or so he thinks) - he never bounded with Tsireya because he actually doesn't like girls but has yet to accept it

And then a few days later, the delegation of the Ash tribe arrives with the Tsahik and surprise, surprise!! It's actually Spider, older, super beautiful and Lo'ak is very, very confused because that's his bro and at the same time, it's not and damn, he's supposed to mate with his bro?!!!

Aonung finds his confusion funny and proposes to do the mating himself because he's really, really ok with this and Lo'ak glares at him

Spider has changed a lot, he's still much smaller, but he has an aura of power that keeps everyone frozen on their spot and he's very confident

Everyone is shocked, Neytiri doesn't know what to think, she's both lost between compulsory respect and disgust because a human cannot be a Tsahik, Jake is completely taken aback by Spider's apparition, Aonung is instantly smitten and Lo'ak realizes that he's actually been in love with Spider his entire life

This isn't exactly your prompt, but here's an extract of the story I was writing similar to your plot:

After Spider disappeared, all those years ago, he thought he’d never see him again. He thought him dead and he mourned him deeply. In silence. He wasn’t even aware of the true nature of his feelings for the boy back then. His brother. How this makes him laugh now! Spider was never a brother. But it took him years to realize it. 

He did hear the rumors and the formidable tales of a growing power in the south, far, far from their village. He heard the rumors of the Dragonborn and the mighty warrior who bounded with the Chief of the tribe and gave birth to the Dragons World. 

But like many, he thought this was a Na’vi woman and from the sanctity of his life with the Metkianya people, he paid it no heed.

Then, this mighty warrior, this mother of Dragons was said to be a human. He was intrigued but there was no interest piqued.

Anonung left to find this warrior, this human who he wanted to meet and challenge. 

And finally, the rumor made this human a man and Lo’ak’s interest was piqued. Not to mention that Aonung never returned from his encounter with this human he wanted to best and conquer.

When he finally realized that this God - arose Khaleesi - was his dear, long gone Spider. He was shocked at first - his mother was furious, she hated him and all humans after Neteyam’s death - but he knew he had to join him and see for himself who this Khaleesi really was - if it really was his Spider. He rode day and night on his Ikran to Merene where the Dragonborn was said to have built the beginning of a Kingdom. 

He had expected many things upon this first reunion, anticipated emotions and looks based on his now feeble memory of what the boy was like. But nothing could have prepared him for the absolute perfection that was the Dragonborn. And he pledged himself to him on the day of their reunion and for the days to come.

He wasn’t the only one who lived only to adore him. Aonung had long lost himself to a passion he could never quell. And Lo’ak remembered the rumors that did portray Khaleessi with a beauty that could not be resisted. He had seduced the dangerous Chief of the most primitive Na’vi tribe after all. And from their union, three dragons were born. A miraculous birth. A prophecy fulfilled. 

His feelings for Spider were already strong. But when he saw him in his glory on that Throne, he felt his soul sip from the pores of his skin and air leave his lungs. It was more than physical perfection. It was an aura of absolute Power. A beauty and a strength that transcended everything.

[apocalyptixs]

→ GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Atlas James Pickett AGE: 33 DATE OF BIRTH: November 21st GENDER IDENTIFICATION: Nonbinary, they/them OCCUPATION: Tattoo artist survivor?? POSITIVE TRAITS: Confident, passionate NEGATIVE TRAITS: Impatient, reckless FACE CLAIM: Nico Tortorella

→ SUMMARY

When they were young, Atlas tended to feel different from most of their peers at school. They never really fit the classic definitions between the boys and girls in their class but often felt like they fell somewhere in between or outside of it. They were pretty young when they first started noticing this, but it hadn't ever really mattered all that much. They didn't mind being different. Everyone was different in some way, weren't they? It wasn't until high school that they really started recognizing what it meant for them. Their gender identity has always been rather fluid and constantly shifting, but they affirmed it by changing from he/him to they/them pronouns shortly before graduation.

They never needed for anything, really. There was always food on the table for Atlas, even if their parents weren't consistently joining for meals at times. Their mother was a nurse at the local hospital, working long hours to make ends meet. And their father was a lawyer, often away from home for long stretches of time as well. Maybe it wasn't easy all the time, but Atlas was good at adapting where necessary. They spent time at their friend's houses more often than not, and felt as much a part of each of their families as their own. It wasn't typical, but it worked, and Atlas didn't mind so much.

When it came time to make decisions on college and their future, Atlas wasn't really sure what they wanted to do. It seemed like college was the next logical step, but Atlas had always been more of a creative mind than academic. They did okay in their typical coursework, but it was the arts that their talents really shined. If given a direct choice, they liked the idea of going into tattooing, or otherwise exploring their skills in the artistic realm - even if it wasn't a choice their father would be particularly fond of.

Despite the risks, they decided to lean into their passions, choosing to travel instead of going to college. It wasn't entirely off the table, and they spent a lot of time visiting friends at their respective dorms, couch surfing their way across the country and seeing what there was to see of the world, while doing odd jobs here and there to support the travel. They didn't have a whole lot to their name, but they didn't need much, either; as long as they were with their friends and seeing what was out there, they were happy.

When an opportunity at a local tattoo shop in the Washington DC area opened up while Atlas was visiting a friend out there, and they jumped on it. It seemed like a door opening just for them. They established themselves in the art scene of the area, rented an apartment with a couple friends, and laid down some roots. There was a part of them that missed the transient lifestyle they'd gotten used to, an ache for wanderlust, but the job at the tattoo shop gave them a whole new meaning and focus for their endlessly active imagination.

News of the decay hit quickly. At first, Atlas didn't think too much of it; news outlets were always coming up with crazy stories and catastrophizing everything, they'd believe it when they saw it. And then they did see it, and a part of them still couldn't quite wrap their head around it. This was something out of those video games, or horror movies - not real. And yet it was staring them right in the face.

Ending up at the so called 'safe zone' wasn't exactly Atlas's cup of tea. Already they're beginning to feel like a caged animal, scratching at the walls to be let out. But is what is out beyond the walls truly better than what is inside? They're not so sure either way.