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cjlouwho · 2 days ago

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This got a little long winded, so it gets its own post. The story you are about to read is based off of this poll. These are your choices.

Tommy was pretty sure he'd never felt a headache like this before. He wasn't prone to migraines, but he'd seen his mother suffer with them and this... well, this might be worse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as a wave of nausea fell over him.

It wasn't just his head that hurt. It was his whole body.

Damn, he hadn't been this sick in... well, ever.

His body shook with chills. There was a heaviness in his chest that had him turning his head to the side and choking out a hard cough.

Once he finally settled, that heaviness still there, he slowly let out a raspy breath.

Pudding.

He wanted pudding.

That was odd. He used to crave pudding as a child. Every time he got sick, he would request a pudding cup. And that's what he wanted right now.

Maybe he still had one in the fridge. He'd kept a few things there for Jee back when- Well, he had some kid foods that had been sitting in his fridge for a couple months now. Surely, the pudding would still be fine.

If only he could get out of bed.

He made a mental note to order a new mattress. This one had lasted him quite a few years, but he was definitely feeling the lumps today. It was hard and painful and poked into his back.

“God, this sucks,” he breathed out, blinking his bleary eyes open and... oh.

This wasn't right.

He wasn't at home. Wasn't in his bed.

And the heaviness in his chest was actually on his chest.

That's when the memories came flooding back to him. Going for a flight on his day off. Wanting to clear his head and get his thoughts in order.

He couldn't panic. He needed to maintain focus.

That was hard to do when his brain was all jumbled.

He remembered his phone was... somewhere.

Shirt pocket! That was it!

Carefully, and painfully, he reached up and pulled out the phone.

Miraculously, it was still in one piece. Besides a few cracks to the screen, it seemed to be working fine.

He stared at the screen. The default background that was once a picture of him and Evan.

It hurt to breathe. Hurt to think. He knew he probably didn't have that much time. Not with the way this heavy piece of metal pressed against his body.

So, with fuzzy eyes, Tommy went to his contacts, hovering his finger over the name before pressing down.

“Hello?”

“H- Hey. Long time, n- no talk.”

“Tommy? What's up? Are you okay?”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I... Well, that's a loaded question.”

“You sound weird. What's wrong?”

“I wanted to a- apologize to you.” With a grimace, he swallowed down what was definitely blood.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

There was a pause, then, “Did you do something stupid?”

“Not intentionally,” he deadpanned. “Listen, I- I kinda got into an accident and I...” his voice trailed off as he went into a coughing fit. The movement sent a pain shooting from his leg to his back. “Damn it!” he yelled.

“Tommy! Tommy, talk to me. What do you mean you got in an accident?”

“No, it- it doesn't matter. I just wanted t- to apologize for the way I left you.”

“You apologized for that years ago, Tommy. Tell me what happened so I-”

“Abby!” he exclaimed, the hunk of metal over him creaked as it lowered slightly. “I don't... I just need to apologize. I- you loved me, didn't you?”

“Yeah, I did. Car crash, or were you flying?”

“F- Flying. I loved you too. Not... Not the same though. Sorry.”

He could hear her mumbling something to someone else, then she was back on the line. “I'm calling 911 with Sam's phone. Stay on the line with me, Tommy. Are you in LA?”

“Mhm. Do- Don't think I made it far. Abby, listen, I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. I was so s- scared of- of everything.”

“Do you see anything around you? Any indicators for where you are? They're working on pinging your phone.”

When Tommy turned his head to the side, all he could see was trees. “Woods. I think. Can't see much. I was dating th- this guy.”

“Can you tell me where you're hurt? Are you bleeding anywhere?”

“Oh, for sure. But A- Abby, I didn't m- mean to hurt you.”

“Focus, please. Where are you bleeding?”

“Head. Leg. Mouth. Kinda e- everywhere. I was dating th- this guy,” Tommy sucked in a shaky breath, a rattling in his lungs. “Your guy, actually. O- Our guy?”

“Tommy, I think you're getting confused. I-”

“No, no. Evan. Buckley, Ev- Buck. Him.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“No, I'm here. I- You're dating Buck?”

“Was dating Buck. I- I ended it. I'm c- cold.”

“Help is on the way, Tommy, just stay with me. You broke up with Buck. Why?”

“Remember wh- when we went to karaoke nights? Th- That was fun, wasn't it?”

Abby sighed. “It was, but that's not what we're talking about.”

“Wh- What was the song we us- used to sing?”

“You were a big Queen fan. I Want to Break Free. Shoulda known,” she mumbled.

Tommy laughed, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit, where blood bubbled up in his mouth.

“Tommy! Tommy, stay calm, okay. Turn your head a little so you don't choke.”

Tommy listened, spitting out the blood before he continued. “We should karaoke again.”

“I don't think that's gonna happen. Tell me about Buck.”

“Evan.” Tears filled in Tommy's eyes and he tried his hardest to blink them away. “We were t- together six months and it all f- fell apart.”

“Why?”

“He wanted... wanted me to move in. Can you b- believe that?”

“Yeah, actually, I can,” she answered. “Buck likes to attach and you're, well, attachable.”

“No. No, I'm not.”

“You haven't changed much, Tommy. You didn't seem to think you were worthy when we were together either.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. Down his back he could feel the sensation of more blood dripping from his neck. “What d- do you mean?”

“The whole time we were together it felt like you were waiting for a bomb to drop.”

“That probably had to do with the whole being gay thing.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “Maybe. Don't think so though. Hang on a second.”

He looked up at the hunk of metal trapping him in place. “Nowhere to go.”

Tommy closed his eyes while he waited. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but the next thing he remembered, Abby was yelling in his ear. “-mmy! Tommy, talk to me!”

“Wha- I'm here, I'm here. God, you're l- loud.”

“And you're an ass. If I was there I'd smack you on the back of the head.”

“That would hurt,” he replied. “With the gaping wound an- and all the blood.”

“Back to Buck. Why'd you say no to moving in?”

“I own a home.”

“And?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “I- I wasn't enough for you, Abby. Couldn't be.”

“Mhm.”

“I hurt you. Didn't m- mean to, but I did. I saw- I saw it in your eyes, when I left, I... You loved me, and I couldn't... I'm sorry.”

“Is that why you left?” Abby asked. “You were afraid Buck would do the same thing to you?”

“I really...” he couldn't stop the tears now. His chest heaved in the little space it had left. “I really loved him, Abby, and I- I saw what I did to you and I couldn't. I just co- co- couldn't-”

“Okay, okay, Tommy, I need you to stay calm, okay? Listen, the dispatcher is telling me that the 118 is close to you. So you stay calm and you talk to me!”

“O- Okay.” He tried to calm his breathing the best he could, but the rattle persisted. He knew that didn't mean anything good. Each breath got a little harder, the blood continued to flow down his neck, and he was pretty sure something was sticking through his leg.

“Did you tell him how you felt?”

“He didn't... He never said it. That he loved me.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Maybe he was waiting on you. Did you think of that?”

“I think...” He just wanted to close his eyes. Nothing made sense, the cold feeling was fading, he was going numb. “I think I- I'm dying, Abby.”

“No! Listen to me, Tommy! They're close to you! I need you to make a noise. Let them know where you are. You hear me?! Call for help, Tommy.”

“Abb-”

“Call for help!”

Tommy groaned, more blood coming up in his throat. He managed to move one arm just enough for his hand to knock on the door of the chopper. “H- Here!” he yelled, banging on the door as hard as he could manage. “I- I'm here!”

Abby listened over the phone as the 118 arrived on scene. She could only make out bits and pieces.

“Tommy, can.... me? Talk to... There ya go! We got a...”

“What about the...”

“Hey. Hey, we're here, Tommy. Just focus on... and we'll get ya out, okay?”

“He's losing too... gotta get that off now!”

“Tommy, you look at me! We will... you just gotta promise me you'll... Promise?”

She waited, holding her breath until she heard his voice, just a touch above a whisper. “Promise.”

Things got quieter for a bit, then she heard voices again, so she yelled, “Hey! Hey, pick up the phone! Someone pick it up!”

“H- Hello?”

“Buck, is that you?”

“Yeah, Abby, it- it's me,” he answered, his voice practically shaking. “Maddie said y- you were on the line with him.”

“Is he...?”

“He's alive. We're following the ambulance to the hospital.”

“How bad?”

She could hear Buck sniffling through the line. “I don't know how he's alive, Abby,” he admitted, lip trembling. “It looks like this thing has been through a compactor.”

“And Tommy?”

"Has a gash on the back of the head, concussion, broken ribs, a pretty big piece of glass through his leg, definitely some internal bleeding. He... Chim says he should make it, but we- we barely got here in time. He might've... if he wasn't talking to you he probably...” He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

“Hey, don't think about that now. He's gonna be fine. That's what matters.”

“Yeah.” Buck ran a hand over his eyes as he nodded. “Yeah, you're right.”

“I'll let you go, Buck, but let me know when he's stable, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Abby.”

“Of course. Oh, and Buck!” she quickly added before he could hangup.

“Yeah?”

“I know the guy pretty well. He loves you. He's just not great at being loved.”

“A- Abby-”

“Don't give up on him. He's worth it.” Before Buck could get in another word, she hung up.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed.

Evan was beside him, staring down at an empty cup in his hands. Tommy figured he must've sensed the staring, because soon enough Buck was meeting his eyes. “You're awake,” he said, eyebrows rising.

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “I think so, yeah.”

“There's been a couple wake ups that didn't quite stick,” Buck explained, standing to grab cup of water. He put the straw to Tommy's mouth and had him take a sip. “Slowly,” he instructed. “Don't want you choking.”

Tommy took a few sips, then settled back in the bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost four days.”

Tommy's eyes widened. “You.. You haven't been here the whole time?” he asked. “Have you?”

Buck nodded. “Three nurses have tried to drag me out of here. All have failed.”

Tommy hoped the monitor didn't show how fast his heart felt like it was beating. “Wh- Why? Why'd you stay?”

Buck smiled, wrapping his shaky hand around Tommy's. “A mutual friend of ours told me you were worth it,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears. “I just so happen to agree.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #tw: blood #tw: near death

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puppykatz · 3 days ago

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pls write some fluff w dani and gn!reader

12:00AM ‹𝟹

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ; daniela avanzini x gn reader.

summary ‎::: you and dani have been in the talking stage for a couple weeks now, but new years might be the final push you two need.

warnings ‎::: reader gets a little overstimulated, but that's it !!

note... a week late for new years bc im a slow writer.. and the intro reads a tad rushed bc i had a rough time figuring out how to make the transition smooth :[ im very sorry!! (also i am in fact working on some other requests rn! ty guys sm for your patience ^.^)

dani smiled, greeting everyone excitedly whilst they cheered over her arrival. you stood behind her nervously, yours hands intertwined, giving a meek smile along with small waves to the few people who noticed and welcomed you in.

you were dani's plus one to a new years gathering, and to say you were anxious was an understatement; this was the first time you were meeting any of her friends in person. you'd talked to a few of them interchangeably a couple times, when they'd burst into her room while the two of you were calling or texting. you'd talked the most to manon, seeing as she's dani's roomate, and often entertained you whenever dani stepped away for a little during one of your calls.

it wasn't long before two of you were pulled away into watching an on-going uno match, as it was the crowd's current main focus.

eventually, that game ended, and a second one started—but unfortunately, you had been eliminated pretty early on, and since everyone else was busy continuing on with the game, you'd figured it'd be okay to step out onto the balcony for a few as it had gotten a little rowdy due to all the +2s.

what you didn't realize, was that dani had gotten eliminated as well, and noticed you leaving. she frowned, wondering if something happened that upset you. to not draw any attention to you or her, she stood up quietly, following you out onto the balcony.

“yn?” she called out, softly shutting the balcony door behind her. you greeted her, smiling sheepishly as she stood next to you. “are you alright?”

“yeah. it was just kind of.. loud.”

she inched closer to you, taking your hands in hers. “we can leave if you want.”

you shook your head profusely, “no, i'm okay. really.” you gave her hands a light squeeze as affirmation, your heart warming up at the fact that she seemed so genuinely concerned.

she opened her mouth to say something else, immediately being cut off by ruckus from within the house; everyone had paused the game and begun counting down. “it's 12:00 already?” she muttered, unconsiously fiddling with your hands.

as soon as the countdown got to one, your eyes were fixated on the sky, cheerfully watching all the different fireworks go off. dani, on the other hand, had her gaze fixated on you; admiring how pretty you looked with all the firework colors lighting up your face.

“can i kiss you?” her voice was barely over a whisper, as if it was a thought that wasn't meant to be said aloud.

you whipped your head to look at her, immediately being met with her gaze; the sweetest, love-filled doe eyes you'd ever seen staring back at you. she was a lot closer than you remembered, yet you were unsure if you had even heard her correctly.

“please?” hearing her plea made your stomach flip, and you couldn't help but nod giddily.

you couldn't even get a second nod in before her lips were on yours, her hand traveling up to caress your cheek while the other tugged you closer by the hem of your shirt. the kiss was slow, her lips moving against yours passionately, though delicately, as if she were afraid to hurt you or possibly scare you away.

she let go of your shirt, bringing her other hand up to hold your face fully. your knees wobbled, feeling her smile into the kiss. “already falling for me?”

you barely had the chance to respond before a knock on the balcony door startled you two apart.

“we're.. starting uno round three.. or are you guys too busy?” manon smiled innocently at the two of you, clearly planning all the different ways she'd tease dani about this later.

dani bashfully muttered a response, entwining your hands again and following manon back inside, bringing you along with her.

── 𖹭 ──

for the rest of the night, dani hovered around you; her hand never left yours and the smile on her face never faded once. the kiss had seemingly boosted her confidence, as she'd started openly using pet names for you. she'd also gotten a lot more touchy; currently, she had her arms wrapped around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder while she hugged you from behind.

“babe, play that one.” dani perked up, using her head to point to a card in your hand.

“hold on. how is it fair that these two are teaming??” megan called out, pointing at you and dani, since you guys had decided to mix your cards and just play as one.

“leave them alone megan, you know dani will explode if she's away from yn for five minutes.” sophia remarked, nudging dani with her shoulder playfully.

dani's cheeks heated up and she hid her face in the crook of your neck, hugging you a little tighter.

you finally placed down a card, “okay, okay. lara, your turn.” unable to hold back your smile, you turned to dani, pressing a kiss to the side of her head before turning your attention back to the game.

#i LOVE spreading the clingy dani agenda #₊˚⊹☆ – 851 words #₊˚⊹☆ – divider creds; cafekitsune #daniela avanzini x reader #daniela x reader #dani x reader #daniela avanzini #katseye #katseye x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #kpop #katseye imagines #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #₊˚⊹☾ – works #₊˚⊹☾ – requests

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divinedelusional · 2 days ago

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how rafe would treat his gf on her period

rafe cameron x fem reader

word count: 796

warnings: menstruation, mentions of toxic relationship and period sex

a/n: yeah this is how rafe treats his girl on her period but also how he would be like in a relationship throughout the seasons? i got carried away, sorry not sorry

s1 rafe: sooo i feel like fratboy!rafe genuinely doesn't give a fuck, i don't even know if he would be capable of being in a relationship. i see him being involved with a girl but only for sex and he would only know she's on her period bc she would just text him that they can't meet today bc of it and he'd be like "uh huh cool" and would go jerk off

s2 rafe: here i think situation would be slightly different. i think our psycho bby could acc develop feelings for a girl, it would mostly be just sex but he could start falling for someone. so i think he'd fight a battle in his mind if he should come over to the girl's house and be there for her on her period or to completely neglect her. it's just he doesn't have a clue what to do and tbh he's occupied with other shit, he uses sex with her to forget. i think it's very similar to s1 rafe but with guilt and feelings creeping in (and obvious denial for this emotions)

s3 rafe: so okay we all know the shift from curtain bangs psycho rafey to buzz cut man of the house rafe who looked like he's getting his shit together. of course that means he's different when it comes to relationships. he still deals with a lot, but he finds you. and he kinda sees you as this light. a small light who he has to be very careful with so it won't go out. he is attentive to you. treats you right, but with some sort of distance and you don't blame him. he doesn't spend every day with you, he didn't even ask you to be his girlfriend yet, didn't make it official but he will and somehow you know it. when you're on your period you become quiet. you don't text him, but he finds out as he had a feeling that he should drop by your house. he finds you on your couch with a heating bag and cookies. you told him you weren't feeling well and he ordered you hot soup and made a quick run to pharmacy for some medicine. he still was clueless and thought you caught a cold. "rafe im not sick im just on my period" "oh" it's not like he avoids you, no. he visits you everday for the next four days but doesn't stay for long, always excusing himself with some meeting or business. you know he means the best for you but wish that he's going to be able to let you in soon. you're really patient with him, but start having doubts.

s4 rafe: is now fully committed to you. you talked to him how you really felt about this relationship. that you really cared and wanted to give him as much time as he needed, but also you couldn't waste it anymore waiting for him. and rafe realized that nobody else would have such patience for him. he was thinking about you a lot and he admitted to himself that you were the one. he made your relationship official and two months later you were living together. he was spoiling you, really. taking you on dates, buying you gifts and most importantly giving you his time. getting to know you, observing your daily habits, remembering stuff you said. your likes and dislikes. no wonder he became pussy whipped. and started to feel like he knows you better than yourself.

that's why when it's that time of the month you don't have to say anything. rafe knows. just by the way you whine when you wake up, he knows if you'd be able to get out of bed and get on with your day or you'd want to stay in bed cuddling, because he's your personal heater, makes back pain go away. gives you massages. cuddles with you all morning untill your stomach start to signal that it's time for some food. oh and he doesn't care about his schedule. he could clear it off, cancel the meetings, but he doesn't bother. his girl is the most important, his business associates don't even deserve a phone call on a day his girl is in pain. also he's not opposed to period sex at. all. orgasm is a great way to reduce cramps, so if that works for you and you want him to help you, he is the happiest to do so. if you're not comfortable with having sex these days he totally understands. wouldn't even thought of forcing you to do something, on your period or not. when he discovered that he has so much love in him, his only interest is to give it to you♡

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

tagging: @sugaraanddiesel @cherrylipglossss hope they'll enjoy it and @cameronsprincess bc maybe it will put a smile on her face♡

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fluff #obx fluff

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thisweknow · 2 days ago

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I very much understand your frustration with the "you! are! valid!" Tumblr culture from the mid-2010s, that was something that honestly made me feel so isolated as a teenager. I hated hearing "it gets better!" and watching my life fall further and further apart with everyone telling me that it would all be fine one day. It felt hypocritical. It WAS hypocritical—to tell me my feelings and my experiences were valid and then to just absolutely steamroll me when I expressed my frustrations and fears.

I started to favor the phrase "everything changes" around the time I turned 16. I liked the idea of neutrality, it was something I'd seen as a suggestion relating to body positivity, which I struggle(d) with greatly. The basic premise was that if you couldn't say anything positive, try saying something neutral. Everything changes is neutral. It's not saying it'll get better necessarily, but not that it would be worse, either. It felt like the closest to a truth I could have. What I was dealing with in any given moment wouldn't last forever. Everything changes, my circumstances today are entirely different than my circumstances tomorrow, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

I've let that phrase carry me for years. In the bad moments I remind myself that everything changes, and the world parts that suck won't suck so immediately forever. In the good moments I remind myself that everything changes, and I should hold on to those and savor them for what they are, even if they're peppered in with the worst moments.

It's not to say that I don't remember the bad moments now—I very much do. I can remember a lot of the trauma of my childhood and if I let myself sit with it for too long I can feel what it was like to sit awake at 3 AM sobbing in my room wishing that I was no longer here. I don't think I will ever truly forget that. I can say that those parts aren't the part on my mind anymore. When I look back at my life I tend to look with rose colored glasses at the parts that were good. The moments I spent with my friends, the nights I'd sneak out to ride my bike in the peace and silence of the small town I lived in, the rehearsals for plays that I dreaded going to but loved being in, the way my dog would curl up at my feet and sleep there all night when I was sad—the list goes on. The bad parts are still very much remembered and acknowledged, but the good parts are the ones I think about and the ones I miss.

I know that I struggled for a long time with feeling guilty about having moments I looked back on that I didn't hate. This was especially true after leaving an abusive relationship. I knew the person I had left had been abusive and had done horrible things to me, that I had sustained damages that I wasn't sure I could recover from. Yet I still had moments I looked back on fondly. Moments where I had genuinely cared for my abuser, moments of sweetness and moments of joy, moments of calm and peace that I hadn't had with anyone else. I felt like looking at those moments somewhat fondly cheapened my experiences, as if it was somehow an admission of fraud to acknowledge that even the worst thing that had ever happened to me had its silver linings. It took years of therapy and dedicated self work to finally understand that abuse doesn't happen in a vacuum and that it's okay to miss those good moments, however many there might be, even when we know the overall situation was awful.

It's okay to savor the good things when they come your way. A journal entry from when I was about 17 sums it up really well: I don't want to be happy all of the time. If I was happy all of the time I wouldn't really feel happy anymore, would I? It would just be my normal, my neutral. I want to feel positive at least 75% of the time, that's my goal. I want to feel sad sometimes, too. I want to feel angry and hurt, I want to feel excited and happy and in love, too. I want to experience every emotion life has to offer, even the sucky ones. I don't think I would appreciate happiness if I didn't experience everything else, yknow?

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

#sorry if this is an unwelcome addition #but what you said really resonated with me and i just #i think sometimes its helpful to see other people who have gone through it #and i think that more kids who are struggling and hating to hear that everything gets better and to just wait #i think they need to hear that its okay to take a more neutral approaxh #and that you dont need to feel guilty to enjoying the small things #and that you dont have to strice to be happy 100% of the time #that you really just need to strive for the positive side of neutral and anything greater than that is a blessing #and thats not to be a downer or anytjing #i genuinely meant what i said before about feeling as if being properly happy all of the time would cheapen the feeling of happiness #you just gotta find what that positive neutral is for you #like for me it's no longer feeling suicidal and feeling optimistic about things more than i do pessimistic #like i dont feel miserable or like i dont want to get out of bed #most days i feel like im excited to get up and go to work and see the people i care avout and that im excited to go home #and to go home to a husband who loves me and my dog and my two cats #and yeah sometimes im frustrated or cranky or sad but those feelings are much fewer and further between than the more positive feelings #and sometimes thats enough #idk i hope this makes sense im very tired its 1 am and i cant sleep bc my tummy hurts so im a lil out of it

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wqlfstqr · 2 days ago

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◟𖥻 ♡⃕ before falling in love : percy jackson

▰▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

Percy finds a list y/n made in order to fall in love, he's determined to be the one to complete it.

warnings: briefly hinted cabin 7 reader

author: this is inspired by the book mi conquista tiene una lista by Inma Rubiales. Recommended if you like cheesy romcoms (as i do) and can read in spanish !!

Percy didn’t mean to find it, really. He didn’t mean to pry into her things; it felt like an invasion of privacy. But she was the one that had sent him to look for a paintbrush while she was painting, and he wasn't at fault if said paintbrush was beside a piece of paper that called for his attention.

'things someone has to do before I fall in love'

At first, he wants to go and tease her about it, but as he starts reading, he realizes this is his opportunity.

He had been in love with her for so long he couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment. He has tried to get her to notice, but either she is too oblivious or she acts like it.

But this list- this list is exactly what Percy needed. He can't tell her, of course, but he is sure that he can check off all the boxes in her list. Then, that's going to show her that he is at least worth a date.

"Percy, did you find my paintbrush?" she calls from out of the cabin, he quickly pockets the piece of paper on his jeans and takes the brush to go with her.

it is no big deal, he's just going to take the list with him to make sure he can follow it. She won't realize.

1. sings with me (even if they can't sing well)

Percy loves watching her in her element, how she gets absorbed once she's in front of the easel, the way her brush runs through the white canvas, how her brows furrow together when she makes a mistake that surely no one but her is able to notice.

She sings when she's distracted, and percy loves it. Her voice is just perfect. And somehow, she always seems to know every song playing on the radio.

And he always finds an excuse to just sit there and watch her as she paints. It's a wonder how she hasn't realized how utterly in love he is, because every time he looks at her with such love in his eyes that by this point, everyone in camp knows about it.

Sometimes he helps her, mostly when she can't seem to find the paintbrush or pallete she needs, which is why he even found the list to begin with and- talking about the list! Percy remembers exactly what the first point was.

Sing with her. Percy doesn’t like singing, he's sure that didn’t come with the list of talents provided by Poseidon. He thinks his voice is terrible and even the idea of singing an disturbing the beautiful sound of her voice was just wrong.

So he starts small, humming along the music. He recognizes this one. That's a first. Even y/n seems surprised as she pauses for a moment, a small smile tugs at her lips before she goes back to painting, but Percy swears he sees the spark of amusement in her expression.

"You know this one?" she asks, her tone light and teasing. "Come on, sing with me"

"I’m not a singer" he mutters, immediately stopping his humming. "In fact, i'm terrible at singing."

"Who said you had to be a good singer? It’s not an audition,” she teases, picking up a clean paintbrush and holding it out to him like a microphone. "here."

Before he can even think about protesting, the chorus of the song kicks in, and she starts singing, her voice clear and cheerful. Percy groans, but he picks up the paintbrush as he starts humming again.

She grins widely. "See? it's not that hard"

"I’m still not singing, no way" he insists, though his voice is softer now, the edges of his reluctance smoothing out just by the sight of her smile.

“Oh, you will,” she says confidently, twirling the paintbrush and pointing it at him like a challenge. "Come on, It’s a duet. You can’t say no."

And he really can't, not because he cares about any duet whatsoever but just because he can't ever say no to her.

Before Percy knows it, the words spill out of him, hesitant at first, but then stronger as he loosens up. He's Slightly off key, but she doesn’t seem to care. She cheers him on, laughing as he stumbles over the lyrics.

"You know, you're actually not that bad." she teases as the song reaches its end.

"You're ridiculous." he says between chuckles, handing the paintbrush back.

"And you’re fun sometimes." she replies, beaming up at him.

He gasps playfully. "Excuse you? sometimes?"

When she burst out laughing, Percy smiles at her. He wasn't expecting checking off the first item on the list would be this easy. Or this fun.

2. dances in the rain with me.

The second item comes just as naturally as the first one. Percy doesn’t have to force anything, it just so happens that a few days later, it started raining just when they were walking back from sword training.

Most campers around them take their things and run for cover. Percy's just about to do the same, knowing the rain is probably Zeus' doing and not wanting to be anywhere near it, when his eyes fall on her and stops right on his track.

Far from being agitated by the sudden downpour like everyone else, she tilts her face up, laughing as the rain fall all over her. She looks so carefree, so beautiful, that Percy can hardly be blamed for allowing himself to be pulled into her orbit once again.

Without hesitation, he steps forward, takes her hand, pulls her closer and spins her around. She is confused at first, but then she laughs, her face full of joy.

Percy is not a good dancer in the slightest, but he tries just for her. He lets himself relax under the pouring rain, twirling her again and again, his hands holding her waist as she throws her head back, laughing like its the best thing in the world.

He knows there are people around them, probably watching, but he can’t bring himself to care. Her smile, her laugh, make everything else fade into the background. It's like they are in one of those cheesy romantic movies that she has always seem to enjoy so much.

When the moment slows, Percy reaches out and gently brushes wet strands of hair off her face. She leans into his touch, smiling softly, and for a second, he’s sure his heart skips a beat.

"I didn’t know you were such a good dancer." she comments, her voice filled with amusement as she tries to catch her breath, raindrops running down her cheeks.

I could be anything for you he thinks, but instead, he smiles playfully. "maybe i'm just full of surprises."

3. creates something just for me

bonus: 4. knows my favorite flower

Percy realizes soon enough that not everything on the list is going to be as easy as simply going with the flow. He is good at a lot of things, but crafting isn't one of them, so going through the process of creating something was just- difficult to say the least.

Still, he doesn’t want to half-ass this one, if she wants him to create something for her, then it'll have to be special.

That's where Leo comes in, Percy has to beg the boy for his help. But once he ends up agreeing, it's all set to go.

"metal flowers?" Leo repeats, leaning against the workbench in bunker nine. "Really, dude? you're whipped."

Percy shrugs, trying to act casual. "She really likes flowers. And uh- she loves peonies."

How does Percy knows she loves peonies? even he's surprised, he doesn't remember her telling him. But he simply knows. And he's sure of it, too.

"And couldn't you simply buy her some flowers?" Leo asks, but Percy can already see the gears turning in his head.

"She deserves something unique and special, doesn’t she?" He replies, and that seems to be enough for Leo.

"Alright, let's get to work then."

The two of them spend hours working together. Leo shows Percy how to mold and bend the metal into petal shapes. It's easier said than done, but after a few tries, Percy's able to do it by himself while Leo focuses on welding them together, because he doesn’t trust Percy won't end up burning down the bunker.

When they're finally done, they have a steel peony. It isn't perfect, but Percy's proud of it. It feels special, and he can't wait to give it to her, he barely manages to thank Leo before he's rushing out of the bunker.

He's able to find y/n on the stables, she has her hair in a ponytail, a few strands falling messily over her face. She's focused on grooming a pegasus, so she doesn’t notice Percy until he taps her shoulder.

She's startled at first, but once she sees Percy, she visibly relaxes. "Oh hi Perce, do you need something?"

Percy was excited, but now he's clearly nervous as he stutters through his words. "I- um- I made something for you."

That gets her attention, she looks at him surprised as she sets the comb down. "You got me something? what do you-"

Her words trail off when Percy pulls his creation from behind his back. She seems surprised, looking in between the flower he's holding and his face, as though she can't surely trust her eyes.

"you like peonies, don't you?" he asks hesitantly, even though he had been one hundred percent sure of his choice a few hours ago.

She opens and closes her mouth, words dying before they can escape her lips as she reaches and takes the steel peony from Percy's hand.

It takes her just a moment to realize that Percy is still looking at her with eyes full of doubt, and then her lips finally curl up into a beaming smile. "Like them? Percy i adore peonies." she looks back at the flower in her hand, and she almost feels like crying. "It's so beautiful, how did you make it? how did you know I like peonies?"

"I'm sure you've mentioned it before" he shrugs, trying to hide how nervous he is. "but i'm glad you liked it."

"I love it." she reassures him, her smile wide. "thank you, Perce."

And when she leans and kisses his cheek, he knows the effort was worth it. He would do anything just to make her happy.

5. listens to me

bonus: 6. shares his opinions with me

Some of these were the easiest because, well- Percy already did them. It was the minimum he could do, really. Listening to her came as a second nature.

He could be in a room full of people, all of them talking at once. but the moment y/n's voice filled his ears, he would be the first one listening.

Right now, he's in the middle of a shouting match with Clarisse. Cabin meetings always go just like this, they waste the first hour without accomplishing anything, the other counselors are used to this by now.

"I'm just saying, we shouldn't show any weakness! we should focus on our defense." Clarisse slams her palms against the ping pong table, her voice rising. "we're still vulnerable and we shouldn't rely on a stupid dragon for everything!"

"And i'm just saying." Percy fires back, already losing what little patience he has. "We need to focus on training new campers first, we-"

Clarisse cuts him short, it's not the first time she has done it. "what better training than patrolling the borders?"

"We won't send our new campers to fight monsters without any previous training!" His voice rises, everyone else stares like they're watching a tennis match. "We won't send them to die, have you gone mad?"

Before Clarisse can reply, surely to fire back with some offense on her part, y/n's voice cuts through the noise.

"Okay, let's calm down." Percy's head whips towards her the moment she talks, the heat of the argument forgotten the moment his eyes find hers. "you both have a point."

"but-" Clarisse starts again, but Percy's faster.

"let her talk" he interrupts before they can get into another argument.

y/n falters for a moment. She isn’t even supposed to be at this meeting, she’s only covering for Will, who’s stuck at the infirmary with some campers who got into a fight. She feels out of place and is ready to choke on her words. But when her gaze meets Percy’s, he nods at her and offers a small, reassuring smile. It’s all she needs to find the courage to continue.

She takes a deep breath and then keeps going. "Defense is important, but we do need more trained campers. Maybe we could compromise? Split the efforts? Half the camp focuses on guarding the borders, while the other half works on training?"

There's a murmur of agreement amongst everyone else at the table, even Clarisse seems to deflate as she acknowledges the logic in her suggestion. But her eyes are still focused on Percy, she might not say it out loud but she values his opinion.

"Actually" he says after a beat, his voice softer now. "that’s not a bad idea. If we rotate shifts, we could cover both."

Clarisse rolls her eyes at Percy, but she finally concedes. “Fine. That works.”

y/n allows herself a small, satisfied smile. Percy catches it, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his own face.

He knows this isn't the first time she was able to calm him down or change his perspective on something, it probably won't be the last either. He'd simply listen to her anytime.

7. Shares his interests with me

It takes Percy a lot of convincing to get her to even step into the water. She’s suspicious of his plan and stalls for ages before finally caving to his begging and jumping in.

It’s worth it, though, because Percy gets to hold her close under the guise of teaching her how to swim.

"Okay don't panic." He says gently as he guides her into the water. "just lay on your back and try floating, i've got you."

She gives him a skeptical look, but he smiles and hesitantly places his hands on her waist, gently guiding her to lie back. His touch is steady, reassuring, and slowly, she begins to relax.

"There you go, see? it wasn't that hard." Percy says softly, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the moment.

"Well, i'm not drowning, so that's a win" she jokes, earning a chuckle from Percy.

As the time goes on, Percy shows her how to kick her legs, how to paddle with her arms, and she was able to float by herself in no time, clumsily treading through water while she laughed.

"You're a natural." he says, though he's already missing holding her close.

She splashes him, when he laughs, she has to ignore the way her heart flutters in her chest. "Maybe I just have a great teacher."

By the time the sun started to set in the sky, they had spent hours swimming around, splashing each other and laughing. Being able to see her smile while she floats close to him, Percy feels his chest tighten, a warm spreading through him.

"I-" love you. Percy is able to catch himself before the words can slip out of his mouth. "thank you for coming with me."

Her eyes sparkle like they're holding a million stars in them. "Thank you for teaching me how to swim."

Percy's in love, and he knows he won't be able to keep it to himself for much longer.

8. stargazes with me

The moon is high in the sky by the time they climb out of the water, the gentle sounds of waves lapping against the shore filling their ears. The air is cooler now, and y/n shivers as droplets of water trickle down her skin.

Percy notices immediately, and he grabs a towel, wrapping it around her shoulders as they sit down on the pier. "Here."

"Thank you." She smiles at him warmly.

For a moment, they sit in silence, their feet dangling over the edge of the pier, toes grazing the water. The sky above them is impossibly clear, stars scattered across the sky. The moonlight casts a soft glow on Percy's face, and she can't help but stare at him just a little longer than she'd like to admit.

She quickly looks away when he turns to glance at her, busying herself with admiring the sky instead. "it's beautiful out here."

"Yeah." he replies, his eyes fixated on her. "it is."

She doesn’t notice at first, too distracted by the way the constellations seem to shine just for them. But when she turns her head to make a comment, she catches him looking at her instead of the sky.

Her heart skips a beat, but she tries to ignore her reaction behind a small laugh. "Do you know the constellations?"

"Not really." he admits, shrugging. "I mean, I know of a few, but I always end up mixing them up."

She smiles softly, pointing at a small cluster of stars. "That one's Orion's belt."

Percy squints at the sky, following her finger. "Oh right, I see it now."

Just like that, they fall into an easy rhythm of pointing out constellations, or at least trying to. When they can’t find one, they make up their own, laughing as they assign ridiculous names to each star.

Eventually, the laughter fades away and they're left with the sound of waves crashing to fill the silence. She hums happily, resting her head on Percy's shoulder.

"Thank you for today." she murmurs softly.

Percy feels a warm on his chest he's become too familiar to. "Anytime."

9. always tells me the truth

it takes a week for y/n to notice the list is missing. And she's immediately panicking. She had written that list as a spur of the moment, something so personal she couldn't even think about sharing it with anyone.

As her siblings leave for breakfast, she stays behind. She has already torn her side of the cabin apart, but there’s no sign of the pink paper she used to write the list.

She's full on freaking out when someone knocks on her door. She's about to tell whoever is at the door to go away, but then she turns around and finds Percy standing by the doorway.

The effect is immediate. Just the sight of him makes her body relax, even if only slightly. Percy has always had that effect on her, it's like the world slows down for a moment, and the chaos in her mind quiets.

"Hey, I wanted to talk to you" he smiles at her, but once he notices her panicked expression, he raises his eyebrows hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

She freezes, unsure whether to lie or spill everything. But as her eyes meet his, she crumbles under his gaze.

"No" she admits quietly. “I lost something really important.”

Percy steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Maybe I can help you find it, what did you-”

He stops himself mid-sentence just as the realization dawns on him. He knows what she lost. He has it on his pocket.

She doesn’t even seem to notice his sudden change of attitude, she's too busy pacing around the room. "It's a piece of paper but it's personal. And very important. I can't lose it Percy."

Percy has to stop her before she keeps talking. "i have it."

She stops on her tracks, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. "What?"

Percy takes a deep breath, his fingers trembling as he pulls the pink paper from his pocket. It's Slightly crumpled now, but unmistakable. "I have your list."

y/n's white as a ghost as she silently looks at him, so he keeps talking. "I swear I wasn't trying to snoop or anything. It was just there when I came to find the paintbrush you asked for and I-"

"Did you read it?" she asks, her voice barely a shaky whisper.

Percy nods, guilt flashing across his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have, but… I've been working through it."

Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Her face flushes with a mix of disappointment and embarrassment, and she snatches the paper from his hand, clutching it tightly.

"Percy you don't understand." she shakes her head, tears gathering on her eyes. "When I wrote this list, I didn’t want anyone to see it, because I didn’t want whoever completed it, did it just because they had to."

He understands where she's coming from, he really does. Which is why he doesn’t panic and simply takes a step towards her, carefully reaching to take her hand. "No you don't understand. y/n, I didn’t do those things because I had to do them, but because I wanted to. Everything on there- it’s stuff I’d already do for you anyway."

Her breath catches in her throat, but she doesn’t take her hand away from him.

"I already love listening to you, and I share my opinions with you because I want you to know the real me. I made that flower because you deserved something special, and I already knew your favorite flowers were peonies. I taught you to swim because I wanted to share that part of my world with you, and every time I spend time with you is because-" he closes his eyes for a moment, he knows he can't keep hiding his feelings." simply because I love you, I love seeing you smile and I love hearing your laugh. So of course, I'd do anything just to spend time around you."

His words take away her breath, but she can only focus on three specific words. "You what?"

"I love you." he replies, no hesitation. "And if this changes anything between us, I’ll understand. But I just can't keep pretending I don't love you."

For a long moment, she stands frozen, clutching the list in her hand. Her heart races wildly, and her hands tremble. But as the truth of his words sinks in, a realization washes over her like a wave.

She thinks back to every moment they’ve shared, how he's always the first person she looks for in a room. She thinks about how she's always looked for his comfort, how he always listened to her and made her feel safe, like she belongs.

She thinks about writing that list. And how it always felt so specific, like no one could surely fulfill it. And it was always because she had one person in mind while writing it. him.

It hits her all at once: she loves him too. She’s been in love with him for longer than she realized.

"Percy" she mumbles, her voice soft and her eyes full with tears. "I love you too."

That's everything he needs to hear. He doesn’t even need to ask for confirmation. He can see it in her eyes. He knows.

Before she adds anything else, Percy leans in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tender kiss. It’s everything she imagined and more, and she knows in that moment that every word he said was true.

She loves him. She’s sure of it now, just as sure as she is that he loves her.

When he pulls back, there’s a smile on his face that makes her heart flutter. He reaches up, lightly tapping the paper in her hand, his voice warm and teasing. "Looks like you can cross the last item off your list."

10. Kisses me

#fluff #percy jackson fluff #i love them #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #one shot #imagine #pjo series

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formylovetodaryldixon · 2 days ago

Text

"One of these days." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

For you and your husband, trying to find the right time to have a little fun is not always so easy.

A/N: Just a imagine that made me smile while I was writing it hehe, so I hope you guys enjoy it a bit too. Thanks! (with a small appearance of Denise fearing Daryl XD) (Not my gif!)

Daryl lifts you up for you to sit in the counter of the living room, his lips crashing against yours in a hard kiss as his hands pulls you close to him by the waist, the heat of your bodies getting mixed with the sole idea of feeling each other after almost two weeks apart.

The last search for supplies had taken longer than usual, and between his arrival and your days and sleepless nights in the infirmary accompanying some sick people with Denise, the bed in your home had only recognized one lonely body.

Now, your hands tangle in his hair kissing him back, his tongue playing with yours, getting from your husband a low growl when your legs pull him close, feeling the bulge in his pants against you. Taking a ragged breath before sinking back into your skin, Daryl takes your black t-shirt off and his hands caress your soft skin as he kisses your neck, missing the contact with it; and too excited to waste time because he has to leave again soon. But your mind clouds with desire like a foggy morning, so you push his vest out of his body and start unbuttoning his shirt while Daryl kisses the skin between your breasts, making you moan.

“Do we really have time to do this?” You try to be reasonable, but your hands are still holding onto the buckle of his pants.

“Yeah…” He said, in a low, deep voice, but Daryl couldn't care less if he is late as he starts to unbutton your jeans. “Let me get ya ready.”

There was something extremely hot when he did that, like being in a beautiful hell in the way Daryl always ate you up first, like it was his duty, and his words make you lick your dry lip, feeling his on your belly that contracts with the heat of his tongue.

But when he is about to pull your jeans down, someone knocks the door, insistently.

“Shit…” He growls in frustration, getting up.

“Coming!” You get off the counter, putting your t-shirt back while he does the same with his shirt.

You start fixing your jeans as you walk toward the door to open it, feeling your cheeks red and hot while you smile at Denise.

“Hey, Denise.”

“Hey, (Y/N).” She smiles back. “Is Daryl home? I hope he hasn’t left yet.”

You nod, clearing your throat in fear that your voice will crack.

“He’s getting ready. Something happened?”

“No, no…” She moves her hand in the air, pulling a paper of her jean pocket next. “I forgot to write some things on the list I gave him yesterday.”

Behind you, the door opens and Daryl walks out, dressed and with his crossbow and his backpack around his body. He looks normal, his hair is kind of messy, but it usually is so nobody could tell the difference.

“Oh, hey…” Denise smiles at him, and he nods once at her while taking the paper, his personality usually becoming silent with people he didn't feel comfortable with yet. “I just wanted to give you this. Sorry to bother you.”

“No. It’s okay…” You say and look at your husband. “Daryl has to go now. Right, love?”

Daryl looks back at you, frustrated for your interrupted play time.

“Yeah. I better go.” He kisses your temple and looks at Denise. “Bye.”

He goes down the steps of the porch, walking away.

“Remember to keep it cool.” You chuckle, referring to his erection that would take time to get down. “And please be careful.”

Looking over his shoulder, Daryl waves his hand in the air, because that is his special way of telling you that he will be careful.

Life within the walls of Alexandria moved slowly, calmly like a sleeping river instead of feeling like wild waves, giving you and the family you made when that new world arose, a sense of peace after having been wandering out there for so long, dangerously all the time. Fortunately, life there was kind of peaceful, and that had stopped the chaos in your worlds and the fear that some members of the family sometimes fell into. But that night, as you return home from work, you can allow yourself the luxury of admiring the bright moon that shines and illuminates your path, as a sign that for that moment at least, the darkness of the world is no longer as terrifying as it used to be.

“Were you married to Daryl before all this, (Y/N)? Or did you meet him when all this madness started?”

Denise is reserved and shy, but there is also a sweetness in her that is still preserved, intact, like a living proof that there were still good people in the world.

“We actually met like two years before all this.” The memory makes you smile at her, a latent feeling awakening in your heart with some shyness. “We had been married for a few months when the dead started to rise.”

Denise nods, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Daryl is… intimidating…” She chuckles nervously, but there is something in your soft laugh that encourages her to continue. “But in this time that you two have been living here I have noticed the way he looks at you, or how Daryl looks for you with his eyes in a room full of people, at community meetings for example. But he is not very talkative, is he?”

You laugh again, a little longer this time as you see your husband sitting on the porch steps a few houses away.

"Daryl is quiet, very reserved, and has a hard time letting people into his life, but when he feels like he can trust people, you can tell that Daryl cares a lot about them."

“And he was the same with you?”

You think about that, remembering that when he saw that he could trust you, Daryl became open to showing his own vulnerabilities, only with you, so it was easier to fall for him. Plus, he was and is still hot as hell.

“Something like that...” You nod softly. “Trust me, a couple of times I was close to throwing something at his head for being so stubborn and surly, but Daryl has a good heart. Just give him time to get used to this life, okay?”

Denise nods again, falling silent as you both finally stop at your house, with her waving at him and receiving a nod in response.

“Have a good night.” Her gaze meets yours, and you smile at her before she walks away to her own home.

And when Denisse is away, you chuckle as you walk over to the porch to sit next to Daryl.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“She’s terrified of you.” You chuckle even more as his brow furrows, his gaze on yours. “You scared the poor woman.”

Confused, Daryl watches the path Denisse took, for a few seconds before looking back at you.

“Did I do somethin' wrong?”

“No. It’s just that you’re so quiet that she feels kind of shy. But you could try talking to her a little, don’t you think?”

Even more confused, Daryl's gaze takes in an empty spot beside you, the white picket fence before looking back at you.

"What should I say?"

You shrug.

"I don't know. Maybe say something more than just a hey." When your hand makes contact with his cheek, Daryl leans into your touch. "Maybe show her that you are a sweetheart."

He scoffs.

"I ain't a sweetheart."

You chuckle.

“What are you talking about? You are a sweetheart with me.”

"Yeah, but jus’ ‘cause I love ya."

His words make you smile as you both lean into each other's lips. After Daryl let you in, you realized he had a lot to offer as a person with a good and brave heart. He was always a good company: he made you feel protected, in the old world too and even when you could protect yourself, but above all, it was damn cute to see him get embarrassed when you teased him, always masking his blush with a snort.

But when things got hot, like now, Daryl could be even hotter as you feel his hands on your waist, searching for the warmth of your skin under your t-shirt until he found it, sliding his calloused fingers over your flesh, sinking you into a new kind of desire. His touch is a silent plea for you to climb his lap, and you do, his hands holding you against him as his mouth takes yours in a hot kiss. Daryl chokes a grunt in your mouth, but you can feel his erection and he pushes your body down, dying to be inside you.

“Let’s do it here.” He says against your mouth. “S’dark and everyone is sleepin’.”

“Wow. That’s kinky.” You chuckle, your hands searching for his belt as he kisses your neck. But since life has a sense of humor, you can see the light of the living room turn on through the window, seeing Carol coming closer to the door. “Wait…”

Daryl growls in frustration, again when you get off his lap, but he learns forward a little bit to hide the bulge on his pants when Carol opens the door of the house you all share.

“Hey, guys, I thought you two were sleeping…” She says, smiling affectionately at you two. “I was looking for some water and I saw the kitchen light was already on, but… did I interrupt something?”

“No.” Daryl says looking over his shoulder, in a low, hoarse voice.

She looks at you, but you only smile shaking your head.

“Okay, then. Goodnight.” Carol waves her hand before closing the door again.

You wave her back, your own body falling against the railing.

“And… strike two.” You chuckle when Daryl lay down on the floor, covering his eyes with his arm.

That night, you may have used the shadows and darkness of your room to make love, but it still felt weird about doing it knowing that you and Daryl lived with Carol and Tara, even though you were a married couple, but at the same time, the thought made you laugh: because it felt wrong like the first time Daryl climbed through your bedroom window when you two were dating, before the world went to hell, because that night, everything became adult content.

The next morning, the day started early with you organizing the new medications that had been found during the last supply run, alone in the infirmary, accompanied by a comfortable silence as Denise took a day to explore her new relationship with Tara. And it was nice to think about that, in the mounting nerves that came with finding out things about the other person, the way you looked at her or him, the smiles and the shy laughs, the way your world suddenly seemed to fit together perfectly with them.

But when a knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts, you're surprised to see Daryl on the other side when you open it.

"What are you doing here, sir?"

"What? I can't visit ma wife at work?" He walks in, looking around as you close the door again. You walk back to the desk, stopping in front of the last few medicine bottles in the center. "On ma way here I saw Denise."

"You talked?"

Daryl, who was still walking around the room, stops, frowning in confusion.

"I'm not mute, woman."

You laugh.

"I didn't mean it like that, I meant that since we got here you haven't said more than one word to her."

Daryl mutters something under his breath, turning his attention back to the place as you continue reading the open book at your side. He spends like a minute or two in silence, reading the medicine descriptions from the shelves or touching the medical instruments, at least until you feel his body against you from behind, his hands on your waist as Daryl breathes in the smell of apples in your hair, thanks to the bottle of shampoo that came with the house.

Your tied hair gives him the freedom to kiss your exposed neck, and your belly flexes at the touch of his hands.

"I knew you came to see me for other reasons."

Daryl chuckles, and you breathe in, feeling the tingling between your legs.

“I've missed ya, I've missed the warmth of yer body.” His voice is always low, but it gets sexier when you feel that he’s that happy to see you. ““And we haven’t done it in weeks.”

You gulp, feeling his hand slipping down on the skin from your belly under your t-shirt, and your palms pressed against the wood when his hand gets lost under your jeans.

“Yeah, but–uh…” You gasp through your parted lips when Daryl rubs his fingers against your folds, over your underwear just to tease you.

“(Y/N)?”

But that is not his voice. Daryl removes his hand, cursing under his breath when you two see a person standing from the other side of the blur glass of the door. You sigh in frustration, but you chuckle too while walking towards it to opening. Rosita is smiling when your eyes meet, and you let her walk in.

“Hi, Daryl.” She says.

“Hey…” Daryl says back, leaning over the desk.

“Sorry to bother you, (Y/N), but I need something stronger than an aspirin. Abraham fell on his butt during the run and he keeps complaining.” She rolls her eyes. “Do you have something?”

You nod.

“Yes, of course.” You walk toward the shelf on the wall behind Daryl, smiling to yourself as he tries to hide his erection. You take two painkillers from a bottle and go back to Rosita. “If a man as big as he complains of pain it must be serious.”

“No. He’s just a big baby.” She smiles at you and Daryl, waving her hand before walking out. “Thank you. Bye.”

And she leaves, closing the door behind her. But when you turn, and to your surprise, Daryl doesn’t seem to be so frustrated as you think he would be.

“Whatever is going through your mind…” You chuckle. “It scares me.”

“I got an idea.” He smirks. “And this time ya ain’t escapin' from me, so finish quickly whatever ya're doin’ here.”

You narrow your eyes for a moment, giving him a confused look before finishing your chores.

But what is to come (pun intended) is about to come hard.

There, alone with him, your head falls back against the thin mattress inside the last cellblock, the view of the white ceiling disappearing when you close your eyes, and your mouth opens with a hot moan when Daryl makes you cum. Your grip on his hair loses strength as he gets up from between your legs to kneel, his hand replacing his tongue you to help you ride your orgasm. You let the air of your body go, finally going down from that high ecstasy after a moment as Daryl climbs over your body to be on top of you, shirtless, with his pants hanging now from his waist.

“That was just an extra.” He smiles sideways, part of his long hair covering part of his face, while your chest goes up and down with each breath.

“Yeah… I noticed it.”

Daryl chuckles getting up, but his smile falls when you two hear someone opening the front door of the basement.

“Stay here.” He says, fixing his pant as you put on your t-shirt that covers your thighs.

Daryl walks out of there, putting on his shirt as you put your jeans back on. Counting the few minutes in silence as you wait, he comes back frowning.

“Oh, no.” You chuckle. “What happened?”

“He jus’ came to read.” Daryl says, his voice full of sarcasm, lifting up his hands to mock of that person. “Yeah, right… I’m sure he jus’ wanted to jerk off in private.”

You laugh, falling on the mattress, laying down sideways to look at him.

“Who?”

“Eugene.” Daryl growls, pushing his hand through his hair. “Fuck…”

You keep looking at him: he’s frustrated even after making love, but Daryl looks so funny complaining for something so little.

“Come here.” You say opening your arms for him. “Come.”

Daryl exhales, his expression softening, and he walks towards you as you lay down on your back with him on top of you now, holding his face to kiss him softly before pulling apart to look into his blue eyes.

“Calm down, tiger: everything is fine.”

“Yeah… now it is.” He whispers with his lips an inch from yours, his deep gaze on yours. "But ya know what I was thinkin’?"

"What?"

"That s’bout time we got a fuckin’ house of our own, 'cause I'm tired of havin’ to sneak away to make love to ma wife."

You chuckle at his words, but they make you smile, too.

“I think that’s a very good idea, love.”

@fluffy-dixon

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon

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eldritch-spouse · 1 day ago

Note

At first, Belo believed his Goddess was just really affectionate physically. She frequently cuddled up to him, burying her face in his chest, or absentmindedly stroking whatever area of his body wasn't covering his soft fur, sighing happily as her hand moved. However, every time she's had a friend over, they'd hug briefly, then… hang out on opposite ends of the couch. Between the short greeting hugs, there was little to no physical contact.

…Does his Goddess only enjoy touching… him?

(while not exactly touch-averse, the Goddess in question just generally prefers to have her own space and tends to show affection in different ways. excluding Belo, obviously. his fur is so SOFT and COMFORTING to touch, it feels like her heart will explode from PURE JOY)

[Adorable! I like this. Fem reader.]

He's always thought he was unworthy of such attention.

Powers like him are only meant to guard and fight for their Lords and Ladies. It's not even their job to worship, not to the extent of other casts, but Belo still likes to think he can perform decently in that field... His kind isn't meant to be showered in attention and rewards, they're taught not to expect such for simply executing their duties.

Yet, since shortly after Belo found his place at your service, you've done nothing if not treat him with endless kindless, endless love.

Part of him had wanted to caution you that touching him is beneath your status. That he didn't deserve it.

Hardly ever would those words manifest, because Belo simply couldn't stop himself from enjoying it. He'd hate himself if he said something that made you truly not touch him anymore.

He's always wondered why you did it.

There's no doubt you enjoy the feeling of his fur. He's memorized the way you like to lace your fingers on the tufts that warm his chest, the way you'll slide from the top of his wings to his arms, leaning onto him just so you can feel more of it. Belo often forgets he tends to lean during those encounters, chases after the hand that pets him, forgetting who he's meant to be and who he's in front of. There's no way to describe the way his heart hammers behind his ribcage, how his eyes will flicker everywhere and he tenses all over -Puffing out that fur you seem to love- before he's floating in his own Eden.

Do you like to touch Belo simply because he's, as you put it, "fluffy"? Do you enjoy touching him because you seek to reward him? Do you touch him because you think he should be the only one who gets to receive that privilege?

Selfishly, he silently wishes you'd touch him more. Many, unfortunately, were the times Belo would get distracted throughout the day, daydreaming of you running your hands all over him, unhindered by his outfit, feeling everything everywhere just because you could, because he's your angel and his body is also yours to keep, to order. The blood in his body would rush elsewhere and the celestial would curve to hide his own shame, even as it continued to throb and demand attention until he succumbed.

Pervertedly, Belo did such an experiment once. He dressed casually. It felt wrong, felt inappropriate to present in such a relaxed hammer around the most important figure in his life... But you had expressed delight in his supposed drive to adapt a little bit more, so the guilt was ever so slightly lessened.

That day, there was hardly a limit to your boldness. He remembers you embracing him from behind, arms coming forward to squeeze at his chest and rubbing the soft clumps over his abdomen. The knee-length sport shorts he picked were pushed down slightly. Belo had done it on purpose, and it yielded results. You had, perhaps in distraction, perhaps knowingly, massaged the fur-dense spot right above his slit. The angel couldn't breathe in that moment, he feared he might even collapse if your digits wondered just a tiny but further. He knew that he would react shamefully but the notion wasn't strong enough to make him prevent such.

He was ready to be punished, if it meant having this small guilty pleasure.

Your phone, that blasted electrical contraption that you love so dearly, rang so jarringly loud in that exact moment that Belo nearly yelped. Your hands were off his overheated body in a blink, and the interaction ceased there, with his Lady none the wiser to the state she left him in.

He could barely feel a shred of indignity for the way disappointment radiated off him in thick waves.

Belo hasn't had the courage to try that again, though it's more than safe to say the memory is engraved in the forefront of his mind.

It got him to... Think about you.

Your actions, your behavior around others.

It's not often you allow people into your sanctuary anymore. Belo insists that you shouldn't invite those beneath you into such close quarters. This ground is pure and protected for the sake of your well-being, to allow ignorant outsiders to disrespect and desecrate this location is an act of self-harm the power will simply not stand by!

Yet still, his Lady's word is final on a lot of matters. There is faith in some people, who you see as good and deserving of your holy presence. The celestial sees naught but lessers in delusion of your supposed "normalcy", but if you believe these individuals are somewhat excusable, then he'll try to see things through your eyes.

You've always tended to keep your distance from them. Not emotionally, physically. This was something Belo was initially quite relieved by, he didn't have to warn you not to put yourself in such unsightly positions. Just the thought made him itch in an unnatural way...

Now though, he wonders why, if you're aware of the distance you should keep from others, you still choose to touch him frequently? Belo is still beneath the honor of such, yet never once do you hold the hands of the people you invite, refuse their embraces, look uncomfortable at the slightest unintentional brush... In contrast, you appear to be greatly comforted by the sensation of his physique.

He freezes, mind running so wild with possibilities that the angel's fingers tremble.

You have clearly made a choice.

There's no one you'd ever like to touch, except Belo.

In your eyes, in your actions, in your mind, he's the only one worthy enough

He's the only one who can reach your standards!

You only need contact from him.

Belo understands now.

He feels his chest tighten with delight, feels weightless for a second, the rush of euphoria clawing its way up his spine makes his wings flutter and he makes some sort of noise entirely undignified of his cast.

He remained in a state of barely concealed hysteria until you arrived home that day.

For once in his life, he commits something unthinkable.

" Welcome back, my Lady. "

He greets when you step through the door. Instead of standing by your side as he typically does, the angel crowds you, ruffled and tense. You don't get to answer before Belo summons the courage to reach out, to ghost his hands across your soft face and ever so gently, so carefully -like you'd shun him forever otherwise- embrace you in a comforting hug.

He feels as if he broke a thousand rules in one moment alone, but it was worth it.

Because he felt you smile against him.

#Belo oc #3moghost #angel boyfriend #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster lover

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crookedteethed · 3 hours ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 who do you love? . • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- mistress! reader goes bonkers and films a surprise video for Rafe and his wife's anniversary. ۶ৎ

warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut (unprotected p i v), breeding kink, video voyeurism, infidelity, mention of alcohol usage, age gap, cursing, pussy whipped! rafe, homegirl is... yeah

other woman masterlist |taglist | based on this ask | wc: 1.7k

You knew exactly what you were doing when you typed her name into Facebook's search bar. Your fingers moved with purpose, guided by an obsession you couldn't shake.

There it was - Rafe's wife's profile, and right at the top, exactly what you'd been hunting for: a fresh post celebrating their decade of marriage, complete with a photo from their younger days when their love still seemed pure and untainted. You stared at their beaming faces, letting the bitterness wash over you.

Each scroll feels like turning a knife in your own heart, but you can't stop.

Their life unfolds before you like some twisted fairy tale: Rafe teaching their daughter to ride a bike, their annual trips to the Maldives, their matching Christmas sweaters with those damn Dobermans.

And her—always her—wearing that diamond tennis bracelet you once saw in his browser history, claiming the life that should have been yours.

This should be me, the thought burns like acid.

Your fingers hover over a photo of their Mediterranean cruise, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest, that massive engagement ring catching the sunset.

She has everything: the weekend brunches at that fancy place downtown, the Range Rover you've seen in their driveway, the three beautiful children with his eyes, the garden parties you watch from afar, and him—God, especially him.

The life that slipped through your fingers because of timing and trust funds. She had everything you didn't: old money, country club connections, and most crucially—age.

While you were still learning to drive, she was already the perfect socialite, the appropriate choice for a man of Rafe's standing. The Seventeen-year age gap between you and Rafe might as well have been an ocean—one that she had already crossed long before you even learned to swim.

Sometimes you wonder if that's what drew him to you in the first place: your youth, your naivety, everything that made you so different from her. Everything that ultimately made you impossible.

Your wine glass is empty again. When did that happen?

A tear escaped your eye as jealousy carved deeper into your chest, the pain spreading until you could barely breathe. Your trembling fingers found your phone, muscle memory still remembering his number after all these years. You knew it was wrong—God, you knew—but you pressed call anyway.

One ring. Two rings. Your heart threatened to burst.

"Hello?" His voice, still so familiar, sent electricity through your body.

"I—" your voice cracked, "I need to see you, Rafe. Please. I can't… I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so alone tonight. Please come over, I need you."

The silence that followed felt eternal—like light years away, stretching between your world and his, filled with everything unsaid.

You could picture him there, standing in his perfect house with his perfect family just rooms away, probably running his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was conflicted.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you heard him move, presumably stepping outside or into his study. Then came that familiar sound—the slow exhale through his nose that you remembered from countless late nights together, when difficult decisions hung in the air between you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that might have been regret or desire or both: "I'm on my way."

Three simple words that shattered whatever remained of your resolve. You ended the call before he could change his mind, before reality could catch up to either of you, before guilt could claw its way back in.

Your hands shook as you set the phone down, knowing that in fifteen minutes—twenty at most—you'd hear his car in your driveway, and everything would change again.

When he steps through your door, the world narrows to just this: his loosened tie, your trembling hands, the soft thud as his back hits the wall. "We shouldn't," he whispers, even as his fingers dig into your hips, even as he pulls you closer.

You silence his protest with a kiss that tastes like regret and wanting, knowing tomorrow will bring guilt but tonight—tonight belongs to muscle memory and bad decisions.

Your hands roam greedily over each other, ripping clothes away with primal urgency. Your mouths hungrily devour one another, teeth nipping at lips as you guide him to the bedroom. Your heart races with desire and anticipation, knowing what awaits in the heat of passion.

The phone you carefully propped against the lamp earlier blinks silently in the darkness, its camera catching everything. You position him perfectly in its view, letting him think it's just desire guiding your movements.

"God, I've missed you," he breathes against your collar bone, completely unaware that every word, every moan, every mistake is being captured. You almost feel guilty—almost.

Then you think of her Facebook shrine to their perfect marriage, and something shifts inside you—guilt crystallizing into purpose.

Your phone keeps recording in the darkness, anticipating to capture every betrayal, every whispered confession.

Soon, her perfectly filtered life won't matter anymore. Soon, you'll have something far more precious than any photograph: Rafe—cornered, desperate, and finally yours.

Without hesitation, you shoved Rafe onto your queen size bed. Straddling his naked body, you disregarded any notion of foreplay.

As much as you craved the feeling of his tongue on your clit or his thick fingers probing you, all that mattered was having Rafe's cock buried in your cunt.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. You really do need me," Rafe smirked as his palm immediately found its way to your dripping core, but to your dismay was swatted away.

With a seductive grin, cooed in your sweet, high-pitched voice that made Rafe's brain mush. "Un huh, now be a good boy and let me take care of myself," you purred, guiding his rock-hard cock to the entrance of your wetness.

"Are you going to let me do that?" Your tone was condescending, but it only fueled the intense desire between you both, and because Rafe's mind turned to mush the moment you said you needed him, he nodded, totally pussy whipped and enamored by you.

The sharp gasp that escaped both of your lips was matched only by the intensity of your desire.

Slowly, you sank down onto Rafe's throbbing cock, savoring the feeling of him stretching you just as he always did.

"You're so tight, baby," he groaned out, his voice dripping with lust.

As you remembered the phone set up hidden by your side table lamp, a mischievous thought crossed your mind:

"Am I tighter than your wife?" you asked, already beginning to rock your hips on his length. Naturally, Rafe's hands found their way to your waist, not to guide you but to bring you closer to his lips.

"So much tighter, shit," he breathed out between hot kisses, with each agonizing slow rock.

"You're gonna leave her for me, huh?" you asked, face to face with Rafe, cradling his jaw to peck his lips. Slowly, you began to pick up the pace.

Your rhythmic movements escalate into frenzied bouncing, his hard length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit. You lift yourself up and press down on Rafe's chest for leverage, driving him deeper and harder into you

Rafe's eyes rolled back as you bounced harder, your pussy gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, I… I don't know," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.

You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll leave her. Tell me I'm the only one you want." Your walls clenched around him for emphasis, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.

"God, yes," Rafe panted, completely lost in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. "I'll leave her. You're all I want, fuck!"

Hearing those words sent a thrill through you. You began to bounce faster, slamming yourself down onto his thick cock with abandon. Your breasts bounced enticingly and Rafe reached up to cup them, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

"Say it again," you demanded breathlessly, grinding your hips in circles. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, baby," Rafe panted, thrusting up to meet your movements. "All fucking yours."

You leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to ride him relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your shared moans of pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me?" you asked, clenching your walls around him. "Gonna fill me up? Gonna give me one of your babies?"

"Yeah, gonna stuff your sweet pussy with my hot load, fuck, I'm about to explode," Rafe moaned, his nails digging into your flesh, leaving red marks on your hips.

You reached down to rub tight circles on your clit, chasing your own release. "Me too, don't stop," you gasped.

With a few more forceful thrusts, you both toppled over the brink together, moaning in bliss as powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Rafe followed suit, releasing his hot and sticky load inside you, filling you up completely.

The afterglow lasts exactly thirty seconds before Rafe is already reaching for his clothes, his movements quick and efficient like this is just another business meeting wrapping up, breathing hasn't even steadied.

"I need to get back," he says, checking his watch. "We have dinner reservations at La Maison."

"Of course. The anniversary dinner." Your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. "Rafe?" He pauses, shirt half-buttoned. "Did you mean any of it? What you said while we were…?"

He crosses the room, cups your face, and plants a soft kiss on your lips—the kind that feels like goodbye. Then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.

You sit in the twisted sheets, his warmth already fading, listening to his car fade into the distance. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone and stop the recording. The email address you've had memorized for months appears in the recipient field without hesitation. You attach the video—forty-three minutes of undeniable truth—and watch the upload bar creep forward. In the subject line, you type five words that will demolish their perfect life: "Happy Anniversary, From Us Both."

Your finger hovers over 'send' for just a heartbeat before pressing down. Let her enjoy those reservation plans now.

Now he'll have to choose, you think, watching the loading bar reach 100%. And this time, he'll choose me.

a/n -- thanks for making it to the end, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore

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supernaturalfreewill · 2 days ago

Text

Warnings: mild sexual content Reader pronouns: she/her

"Sam!" Dean stood up, his cell phone still pressed to his ear, and fixed his green eyes on his brother, who had just walked in through the motel room door. "Where the hell have you been?! I've been calling you all morning! Is Y/N okay??"

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and blew out a long breath, his eyes slightly wide. "Sorry! I'm sorry. My cell phone—the battery must have died or something," he said, drawing it out of his pocket. The screen was a spiderweb of broken class and completely unresponsive. "Oh. I guess it's—broken... that's weird," he mused quietly. He paused thoughtfully and now vaguely could remember it clattering to the floor during all the—chaos.

Dean paced over toward him, his brow heavily furrowed. "But Y/N is alright? No more ghosts? That spirit freak didn't show up again last night?"

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. "Nope. No more ghosts. She's—good. She's gr—fine. She's good. I—I think we got it done. So..."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Why're you acting so weird?" he asked.

Sam let out a dry laugh and shrugged. "What? I'm not acting weird," he retorted, striding farther into the room and digging around in his duffel bag.

Dean was staring at him closely. Sam could feel his older brother's eyes boring into him and gulped nervously. "You are acting weird," Dean said again, his voice deepening. "What's going on?"

Sam pulled some clean clothes out of his bag and straightened up. "Nothing is going on!" He started backing toward the bathroom to change. "I'm just gonna change and then I told Y/N we'd pick her up and go get some food, okay?"

Dean stared at him backing toward the door and then something in his brain seemed to spark. His eyes went wide and he licked his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Hey—hold on a second," he said, his voice less gruff and demanding now. "What did you and Y/N get up to last night to pass the time?"

Sam froze looking like a deer in headlights. "...What?"

"Last night. What did you and Y/N do? You know, while you waited to see if everything was all taken care of."

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. You know, we—" he cleared his throat nervously, "—talked and stuff."

"And stuff?" Dean repeated, unable to hide a smirk any longer. Sam stared back at him. Dean crossed his arms and surveyed his little brother one more time. "Uh huh. You slept with her, didn't you?"

Sam's mouth dropped open and he mouthed wordlessly for a moment before his face flushed bright red and he couldn't help the huge (but semi-awkward) smile that broke out on his face. "I—I don't think that's any of your business!" he retorted.

Dean laughed and shook his head. "You didn't deny it just now and your face looks like a tomato, so clearly you did. That's why you're acting so squirrelly," he said, giving his younger brother an approving nod. "You think I didn't notice what was going on with you two? Why do you think I stayed at the cemetery and sent you home with her, huh? And what, your phone got destroyed while you were—actually, you know what—NOPE! I don't need to know anything else," Dean said, chuckling to himself, holding his hands up.

Sam made a break for the bathroom and the door slammed much louder than necessary.

"Atta boy, Sammy!"

Prompt: "You slept with her, didn't you?"

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural #spn imagines

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hotchshands · 2 days ago

Text

Trophy (sang-woo x gn!reader au) Part 1/2

Masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Sang-woo wins the games, and you become his young new trophy wife. Not to worry though, Gi-hun is alive thanks to the frontman.

Word Count: 1.9k

Contains: lots of plot, dark!sang-woo featuring ptsd, gn!reader, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, depictions of violence i.e., sang-woo killing gi-hun?

A/N: S2 made me miss him, so I decided to write something. Had to break this up into two parts cause it’s a lot, but I’m happy to add more if y’all want.

Sang-woo wakes up in the new penthouse he bought far away from home and looks over at you, sleeping soundly on the bed beside him. He wasn’t sure why he married you, but then he remembered the games and how they turned him into a murderer. Some might even say a total psychopath. Having been through hell, he knew he couldn’t just marry anyone. He had to be extremely careful with his choice.

You were his best option if he wanted someone to stay with him and overlook the things he did for 45.6 billion won. You were young, poor, desperate, and, best of all, completely bendable. Sang-woo took advantage of that and shaped you into his ideal partner. You made it easy. He knew you were perfect from the moment he met you in the train station all those years ago.

“Excuse me. Do you know if this train is going uptown?” Sang-woo asks a young-looking stranger on the platform.

The stranger turns to look at him, blushing upon seeing him standing there, towering over them in a grey suit. “Yes, this is the uptown train,” you reply.

Sang-woo noticed your flushed complexion. You looked scared and nervous. He decided then and there that he liked that look on you—the way your cheeks were red, the way your eyes never met his, instead focusing on his statue rather than his face, and the way your body stirred upon seeing him. For a moment, he thought you had seen right through his facade, seeing him for the madman he truly is rather than the genius everyone else saw him as.

Were you scared or intrigued? Sang-woo couldn't decide.

The train pulls up to the platform with a stretch. The sound reminds him of the games, making him zone out. Your voice brings him back to reality: “Are you alright?” Sang-woo snaps out of it and looks over at you. You look genuinely concerned.

He smiled slightly, pushing his glasses up before answering, “I'm alright. So? Shall we?” Sang-woo motions for you to board the train. You board the train without a second thought. Sang-woo follows you inside the train car. Once inside, he tells you to sit down while he stands in front of your seated form, holding onto the railing. You didn't question him or try to protest, foolishly trusting a stranger. Pathetic. Just like Gi-hun, Sang-woo thought to himself.

He wondered about Gi-hun from time to time. A part of him thought he might have survived the final game, but there could only be one winner.

“It's over. I won't let you leave here with that money,” Gi-hun said, holding the steak knife, determined to win, to beat Sang-woo. He was always stubborn, so much so that it clouded his judgment. He never knew when to admit defeat.

Sang-woo wasn't going to let him quit. They were too far into the game to just walk away without the prize money. Not only did quitting mean no money, but it also meant that those 454 people died for nothing. It meant that he killed people for nothing.

Gi-hun walks towards Sang-woo, knife in hand, and attacks. Sang-woo dodges the attack and manages to grab hold of Gi-hun. He holds him tightly, bringing the knife closer to his face, but Gi-hun cuts his wrist and escapes Sang-woo's hold, causing Sang-woo to drop his knife. Gi-hun wastes no time and attacks, cutting Sang-woo's cheek before kicking his knife across the field. Frustrated, Sang-woo takes off his suit jacket, using it to force Gi-hun to drop his knife. Both, now unarmed, rush toward each other, pushing and fighting in a fiery of agony as the rain falls down upon them and the court.

After a few punches, Sang-woo gets Gi-hun in a chokehold, which Gi-hun escapes from, only to have his suit jacket torn off his back. This is it, Sang-woo thought to himself before towering over Gi-hun's exhausted body, bringing the suit jacket up around his neck. “Die!” Sang-woo says as he chokes Gi-hun with the jacket. “Die!” he says once more, but Gi-hun is stubborn.

“Get up! Get up!” Sang-woo yells, trying his hardest to end this once and for all. As soon as the two stand up, they fall backward on the sand. Sang-woo grows exhausted, and Gi-hun grows confident as he moves away from Sang-woo's chokehold.

The rain continues to fall as the two return to fighting it out, both determined to end the final game. Sang-woo grabs a knife off the wet sand and stabs Gi-hun in the leg, then again in the stomach. Gi-hun groans in pain.

Sang-woo kicks him in the face, causing Gi-hun to fall onto the sand in the middle of the squid-shaped court. “You remember this place?”Sang-woo begins. “This is where they made us play Red Light, Green Light. Everyone who was standing here is dead now. Everyone... except for us, Gi-hun.” He kicks him in the face again before continuing, “We've gone too far to go back now.” With that, Sang-woo stabs Gi-hun. The knife is met with Gi-hun's hand in protest.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees. So, if we both give up now, we can end it,” Gi-hun cries through the pain of the knife in his hand.

“When we were kids, you and I would play like this, and our moms would call us to dinner. No one's calling anymore,” Sang-woo sighs as tears form in his eyes. He pulls the knife out of Gi-hun's hand with force before stabbing him a final time. Gi-hun bleeds out slowly. “Sang-woo... my daughter, Ga-yeong... please, look after her and Cheol. I promised her I would look after Cheol,” Gi-hun sobs before finally admitting defeat.

“Gi-hun... I'm sorry,” Sang-woo sobs as the speaker announces player 456 has been eliminated.

You get up from your seat on the train before saying goodbye to the strange man in front of you. “Well, this is me.” The train comes to a stop, and the doors open. As you turn to leave, Sang-woo snaps out of his daydream and grabs hold of your wrist before placing a card in your pocket. “Thank you,” he says.

You weren't sure why the man was thanking you. All you did was confirm he had the right train. You nod anyway, to be polite, before exiting the train car. As the train doors close, you turn to see the man is already looking at you. Strange, you thought as you watched him leave the station.

When you get home and take off your coat, you notice something fell out of your pocket. You bend down to pick up a card. You stare at the number on it, wondering how it got there. Remembering the strange man on the train, you decide to call the number. After three rings, someone picks up.

“Hello?” The voice says.

“Hello. I uh think you might've given me this number. Who is this?” you reply.

The voice lets out a chuckle, “Yes, I remember. You're the one from the train. My apologies for not introducing myself. I'm Sang-woo.”

So it was that strange man from earlier, you thought before speaking into the phone and introducing yourself to the man known as Sang-woo. The man repeats your name back as if trying to memorize it.

“I have a proposition for you. If you're curious, I'd like you to meet me tomorrow night. Before you come to a decision, check your other pocket. Should you agree, there's a lot more where that came from,” with that Sang-woo hangs up.

My other pocket? You grab your jacket and look in the other pocket to find $1,000 cash. Huh?! You count the money to be sure before holding it up toward the ceiling light. It was real. Before you can debate the money further, you hear your phone ping. You pick it up to see a text from an unknown number that reads a location and a time. That had to be him. Sang-woo...

The next day, you rush around your apartment looking for something to wear to meet Sang-woo. The location he sent you looked to be that of a park so you didn’t need to dress fancy, but you wanted to leave a good impression. The man could be a psycho planning to kidnap you for all you know, yet he gave you $1,000 which made you think he could be trusted. You still couldn’t understand why give a stranger that much money. The man was clearly rich. especially given that suit he was wearing yesterday, but why not donate it or give it to someone who needed it more? You weren’t exactly well off financially, but you had a roof over your head and a paying job so you couldn’t complain.

After making a mess of your closet, you pull an outfit that pleases you. Hopefully, this pleases him. You grab your belongings, including the money he gave you, and leave to meet Sang-woo at the park. Once you arrive, you check the time on your phone: 10:02 PM. Where is he? Just as you start to think about heading back home, you see a shadow walking toward you in the distance.

“Sorry, I'm late. Please have a seat,” Sang-woo motions to the park bench. You sit down beside him and take in his appearance. He looks polished in his white button-up and thick black coat, but his eyes tell a different story. Behind the glasses, he looks emotionless, almost evil. He pulls out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one before continuing, “I'm glad you showed up. I'm sure you're wondering why I brought you here, so I'll cut to the chase.”

“Wait,” you interrupt him, handing him the money he gave you. “Here. This is yours.”

He stared at the money, taking another drag from his cigarette without daring to take it. “Keep it. I gave it to you, so please keep it.”

You make a motion for him to take it, refusing to take his money when you don't need or want it. “No, really, I can't take it. It's too much.”

He stares at you with those piercing eyes, “Keep it.”

You return the money to your pocket, refusing to argue with the strange man and focus on the ground because those eyes terrify you. Perhaps he really was here to kidnap you.

Sang-woo takes one last drag before throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping it with his foot. He then reaches into his pocket to pull out a black box and a wad of cash before facing you, holding out the two things in front of you. “You can walk away with more money or marry me. You can only pick one. One makes you richer. The other makes you even more rich. Pick one,” he says, opening the black box to reveal a diamond engagement ring.

You blink in confusion at the options being presented to you. Without even thinking, you feel your hand move toward the ring. It was a beautiful ring, one everyone dreamed about. Your hand touches the top of the black box, pinky meeting the skin of the man holding it. You're not sure what made you pick the ring. Perhaps it was the excitement of a new life or the idea of never worrying about money again.

Sang-woo smiles, putting the wad of cash back in his pocket before placing the ring on your finger. He slides it on slowly, gently brushing the metal further down your finger until it reaches the end. “Good choice.”

#squid game #sang woo #cho sang woo #reader insert #sang woo x reader #cho sang woo x reader #squid game fanfic #gi hun

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lee-laurent · 1 day ago

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Home Away From Home -- Luke Hughes

Summary: Annika isn't gonna fall for the stupid hockey guy her parents are housing... right?

content: angst, implied smut but no explicit smut, some makeout scenes, fluff!!

wc: 8.9k

notes: i love this trope so here we are!! enjoy!!

Annika hadn't signed up for this.

She sat at the kitchen island, her arms crossed, watching her mom fuss over a plate of freshly baked cookies. George Thompson, her dad, was setting up the dining table with an enthusiasm that made her roll her eyes. The boys--twelve-year-old Alex and nine-year-old Flynn--were practically shaking with excitement.

"Do we really need cookies?" Annika asked, a touch of exasperation in her tone. "We're not adopting a puppy. He's just a guy. A hockey player, at that."

Andrea turned, a stern look on her face. "Annika, be polite. Luke is our guest. He's going to be a part of this family while he's here."

"Right," Annika muttered, "because this house isn't already crowded enough."

"Hey!" Alex piped up, shooting her a look of betrayal. "Luke Hughes is not just a guy. He's going to play for the Devils! He's super awesome!"

"Yeah!" Flynn added. "And he's way cooler than your boring boyfriend."

Annika groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "For the last time, Bryce and I broke up like three months ago."

"Probably cause he wasn't cool like a real NHL player!" Alex nodded.

Andrea shot the boys a warning glance but said nothing as she placed the plate of cookies at the centre of the table. "All I'm saying, Nick, is that this is a big adjustment for him too. He's young, he's new to Jersey, and he needs a supportive home environment. So please, try to make him feel welcome."

Nick refrained from commenting, though her skepticism must have been obvious, because her dad chuckled. "Come on, Nick. You might like the kid. Who knows?"

She doubted it. Sure, Luke Hughes was talented--she'd heard her brothers talk about him nonstop since her parents agreed to host him--but "some guy who skates for a living" didn't exactly sound like the type of perso she wanted to hang out with.

Still, when the doorbell rang, she couldn't help but feel a little curious.

Luke hadn't expected to feel nervous.

But as he stood on the porch of the Thompsons' suburban house, duffle bag swung over one shoulder, his nerves hit him like a train. He rang the doorbell twice, the chime ringing out into the evening air.

The door swung open, and two kids stared up at him like he was a rockstar.

"Whoa," the older one--Alec or Alex, Luke couldn't remember--breathed. "You're really Luke Hughes."

Flynn just blinked, his jaw practically on the floor. "You're so tall," he finally said, wide-eyed.

Luke laughed awkwardly, glancing past the kids as an older man appeared in the doorway.

"You must be Luke," George said warmly, extending a hand. "Come on in, son. Welcome to our home."

"Thanks for having me," Luke said, stepping inside. The house smelled like cookies and furniture polish--cozy and warm, a sharp contrast to the hockey house he'd lived in the last two years.

The rest of the family came into view, and Luke felt the weight of their attention. A kind-looking woman who must've been Mrs. Thompson smiled warmly, and then his gaze landed on the girl standing behind her.

She was... unexpected.

Annika's arms were crossed, her expression unreadable. She didn't seem particularly thrilled to see him, though Luke couldn't tell if that was because of him or if she was just naturally unimpressed by life.

"This is Annika, our oldest," Andrea said, gesturing to her daughter.

Luke offered a hand. "Hi."

"Hey," Annika replied shortly, barely glancing at him before turning to her mom. "Can we eat now, or...?"

Luke's hand fell awkwardly to his side. Okay, then.

Luke followed the Thompsons into the dining room, where the table was already set with a plate of cookies and some milk. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be welcoming or if they thought he was still ten years old, but the gesture was nice.

"Sit, sit!" Andrea said, waving him toward the table like he was royalty.

He slid into a chair, his bag at his feet. Across the table, the two boys continued to gape at him like he had two heads.

"Can I touch it?" Flynn blurted out, and Luke's eyebrows shot up.

"Your hockey stick," Alex clarified, giving his brother an exasperated shove.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Luke said, chuckling nervously. "I left it by the door. I can show you later."

"Awesome!" Flynn squealed.

Nick, leaning against the doorway with her arms still crossed, looked like she might die of secondhand embarrassment. Her blue eyes were narrowed in thinly veiled irritation.

"Boys, give him a minute to settle in," Andrea scolded softly. "Luke, you can call me Andrea, and that's my husband George." She gestured at her husband, who was helping himself to a cookie. "You've met the boys, Alex and Flynn."

"Yep," Luke said with a smile. "They're... enthusiastic."

"And Nick already introduced herself."

"Nick?" Luke tilted his head, confused.

Annika sighed as though she'd had to explain this a million times. "It's short for Annika. You know, like a nickname?"

"Oh. Got it."

Luke was quickly starting to realize that Annika wasn't the "warm and fuzzy" type.

"Nick's a student at Rutgers," George chimed in, as though sensing he needed to fill the silence. "She's studying communications. Smart kid, but she's a bit of a grump."

"Dad," Nick said sharply, though her cheeks flushed slightly pink.

"Don't mind her," George added with a conspiratorial grin. "She's just mad she doesn't have her bathroom all to herself anymore."

Nick shot Luke a look, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sharing a bathroom? Great. This was going to be... interesting.

By the time Luke hauled his duffle bag up the stairs, he was ready to crash. The Thompsons were nice--mostly--but the whirlwind of introductions had left him drained.

"This is you," George opened a door at the end of the hall. The room was small but tidy, with a twin bed, a desk, and a window overlooking the backyard.

"Thanks," Luke said, dropping his bag onto the bed.

"Bathroom's just down there to the left," George added. "Sorry in advance if Nick complains about you using it. She's not used to sharing."

Luke nodded, unsure how to respond. George clapped him on the back and left, leaving him alone to unpack.

"Just so we're clear," Nick showed up in the doorway. "I don't care if you're some big hotshot hockey player. It's still my house, and if you leave your gross hockey gear lying around, I will throw it out."

Luke blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... noted?"

"Good," she said, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. She started to leave, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "And don't take forever in the bathroom. Some of us actually have places to be besides the hockey rink."

Before he could respond, she was gone, leaving Luke standing there with a pair of socks in his hands and the faintest trace of a smirk on his face.

She was definitely going to be a challenge.

Nick woke up the next morning to the sound of running water and muffled thud from next door. Groaning, she rolled over and squinted at the clock on her nightstand. It was barely 6:30 a.m.

"Seriously?" she muttered, pushing the covers off.

Her first day sharing a bathroom with Luke was off to a fantastic start. Wrapping herself in her fluffy robe, she shuffled out of her room, only to nearly collide with Flynn, who was standing in the hallway, clutching his toothbrush.

"Is he still in there?" Nick asked, jerking her thumb toward the bathroom door.

"Yeah," Flynn said, his voice tinged with awe. "I think he's doing hockey stuff. Like stretches or whatever."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "In the bathroom?"

Flynn shrugged, and Nick let out an exasperated sigh. She banged on the door. "Hey, Hughes! Some of us need to use the bathroom too, you know!"

There was a brief pause before the door cracked open, revealing a very shirtless Luke. His hair was wet, beads of water clinging to his skin, and he held a towel loosely around his waist.

Nick froze.

"Uh... sorry?" Luke said, looking sheepish. "I didn't think anyone else would be up yet."

"Yeah, well," Nick snapped, forcing herself to look anywhere but at his chest, "you're not living in a bachelor pad, so maybe keep it moving."

"Right. Got it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the sink to let her pass.

Nick brushed past him, her cheeks burning, and shut the door firmly behind her.

When Nick made it to the kitchen, she was still fuming. Flynn and Alex were already seated at the table, shoveling cereal into their mouths like Luke sat across from them, wearing a hoodie and looking way too innocent.

"Morning," Andrea chirped, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Nick. "Sleep okay?"

"Would've been better if someone didn't turn the bathroom into his personal sauna," Nick muttered, shooting a pointed look at Luke.

To her annoyance, he just smirked. "I'll set an alarm for 6:29 next time. How's that?"

Alex snorted milk out of his nose, and Flynn started laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Luke's funny," Flynn declared, as though it was groundbreaking news.

"Luke's annoying," Nick corrected, stabbing her eggs with a little more force than necessary.

Andrea sighed. "Annika, be nice. Luke, honey, make sure Annika has time in the bathroom too."

"Yes ma'am," Luke grinned.

Nick glared at him, but his smile only grew.

Nick had classes at Rutgers until late afternoon, which was usually her excuse to escape the chaos of her house. Today, though, chaos seemed determined to follow her.

She was sitting at her favourite coffee shop near campus, trying to focus on a group project, when her phone buzzed with a text from Alex.

Alex (12:34 PM): Guess what??? Luke said he'd come to my game on Saturday!!!

Nick rolled her eyes but responded anyway.

Nick (12:35 PM): wow! cool, bud. tell him to pack an extra helmet in case you miss a slapshot

Her phone buzzed again almost immediately.

Alex (12:36PM): u r not funny

Nick smirked, but her amusement was short-lived. A voice behind her said, "You look like you're plotting someone's downfall."

She turned to see Luke standing there, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, looking slightly out of place in the sea of students.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning.

"Your mom said you had the extra car... and I need a lift to the rink."

Nick blinked. "So you walked here? Just Google how to walk to the rink."

Luke shrugged. "Figured you'd just let me borrow the car."

She sighed, grabbing her laptop and shoving it into her bag. "Fine. Come on."

That evening, after dinner, the boys dragged Luke into the living room for a mini hockey practice. Flynn wore a devishly determined look as he tried (and failed) to get the puck past Luke, while Alex gave commentary.

Nick watched from the sofa, trying not to smile. It was hard to keep her guard up when Luke was crouched on the floor, pretending to dramatically miss a save just to make Flynn cheer.

"He's good to them," Andrea whispered, sitting down beside her.

Nick blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"Luke," Andrea said, nodding towards the game of floor-hockey. Luke had ruffled Flynn's hair, earning a high-pitched giggle, and Alex was laughing so hard he had to clutch his side.

"Yeah, I guess," Nick admitted reluctantly. She wasn't ready to admit that Luke might've been slightly, a tiny bit okay-ish.

She wasn't sure when she started noticing the little things about Luke.

Maybe it was the way he always made time to answer Alex and Flynn's endless questions about hockey. Or how he seemed genuinely interested in her every meal her mom made.

Or maybe it was that he wasn't as cocky and annoying as she'd originally thought.

Not that she'd admit it.

Saturday morning found Nick sitting in the bleachers at Alex's hockey game, sipping a lukewarm coffee and trying to focus on anything other than Luke, who was perched on the edge of the bench next to Flynn.

"Think he'll embarass himself?" Luke asked, lowly enough that only Annika could hear.

"Alex?" Nick smirked. "Absolutely. He lives for the drama."

Luke laughed, and Nick hated how much the sound didn't make her cringe. He was wearing a Devils cap pulled backwards over his messy curls, a plain hoodie, and an easy smile. It was almost... attractive.

The game started, and Alex threw himself into it with the subtlety of a wrecking ball. He wasn't the most skilled player on the ice, but his enthusiasm was unmatched.

"Go, Alex!" Flynn shouted, nearly toppling over the edge of the bench.

Nick found herself glancing at Luke occasionally, surprised by how invested he looked. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching Alex like it was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

When Alex scored--a chaotic, scrappy goal that Nick was pretty sure only counted because the ref was feeling generous--Luke jumped up to his feet, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else.

"You act like it's the Olympics," Nick teased as he sat back down.

"What? That was awesome!" he said, still smiling like an idiot. "Kid's got guts."

Nick shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. She hadn't seen Alex light up like that in a long time.

The parking lot was full of parents chatting as they loaded their kids and gear into cars. Alex was still on cloud nine, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he recounted his goal for the tenth time.

"And then I deked left, and the goalie totally fell for it!" Alex said, demonstrating with exaggerated movements.

"More like you tripped into the puck," Nick teased, ruffling his hair.

Alex scowled. "You weren't even paying attention!"

"I was," Luke cut in, slinging an arm around Alex's shoulders. "And I think it was a sick goal."

Alex beamed up at him, and Nick had to admit--grudgingly--that Luke's support was doing wonders for her brothers' confidence.

"Thanks, Luke," Alex said. "Maybe you could help me practice my shot sometime?"

"Yeah, anytime, dude," Luke said without hesitation.

Nick's mom appeared then, holding Alex's bag. "Luke, seems like you're fitting in just fine around here."

Nick rolled her eyes but didn't comment.

Back at the house, Alex and Flynn insisted on replaying the game on the living room floor, complete with mini-sticks, a foam ball, and way too much shouting.

Nick sat, pretending to read while Luke crouched on the floor, acting as a goalie.

"Careful," Luke warned, blocking one of Flynn's shots. "I don't want to break another lamp."

"That was Alex's fault!" Flynn protested.

"Was not!" Alex shouted, aiming another shot.

Nick couldn't help but laugh as the foam ball ricocheted off the wall and into Luke's chest.

"Game over," Luke declard, collapsing dramatically onto the floor.

The boys groaned, but Nick was grateful for the silence as they finally trudged upstairs, still arguing about whose shot was better.

Luke sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Your brothers are intense."

"They're obsessed with you," Nick said, closing her book. "It's kind of nauseating."

"Jealous?"

"Of what? The chaos? No, thanks."

He stood, stretching, and Nick's eye flicked to the hem of his shirt, which rode up just enough to reveal a sliver of toned abs. She quickly looked away, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"Good game today," she said, standing and heading toward the stairs before he could say anything else.

"Thanks," he called after her, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach flip.

Nick paced back and forth in her room, her phone pressed to her ear as she tried to keep her voice down.

"I'm telling you, Mia," she whispered, "he's insufferable. Like, he doesn't do anything that bad, but the fact that he exists in my house is enough to drive me fucking insane."

On the other end of the line, Mia snorted. "Translation: You're fucking obsessed with him."

"What! No?" Nick flopped onto her bed, glaring at the ceiling. "I'm just... he's in my way. All the time. The bathroom thing? Unforgivable. And he's always around, charming my brothers and being all polite to my mom, and--it's annoying!"

"You're mad because he's polite?" Mia teased. "Wow, Nick, you're really reaching."

Nick groaned, throwing an arm over her face. "You don't get it. He's--ugh. He's just one of those guys, you know? All... awkwardly cute and unexpectedly funny and stupidly attractive--"

"Uh-huh," Mia interrupted, her voice laced with amusement. "Say that last part again?"

Nick sat up, her face heating. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sure you didn't."

"Mia," Nick hissed, her eyes darting toward the door. "I'm serious. He's just--fine, okay? I'll admit it. He's hot. Like ridiculously, stupidly hot. But that doesn't mean I don't hate his guts."

"Hate his guts? You sure you don't just want him to rearrange yours?"

Nick groaned. "I can't stand you?"

"And yet here you are, calling me for emotional support about your hot hockey housemate," Mia said smugly. "What a tragedy."

"He's just... objectively attractive. I can hate someone and still recognize that they're good-looking. Those two things can coexist."

"Sure, Nick," Mia giggled. "Whatever you say."

Nick groaned, burying her face in her pillows.

Flynn crouched in the hallway, his ear pressed to the crack under Nick's door. Beside him, Alex knelt, covering his mouth so he didn't giggle too loudly.

"Did she just say Luke is hot?" Flynn whispered, eyes wide.

"She totally did," Alex grinned.

Flynn giggled. "We have to tell him!"

"Duh," Alex said, scrambling to his feet.

The boys darted down the stairs, giggling like they'd just discovered the best secret in the world.

Luke was sitting in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV, when they skidded to a stop in front of him.

"Luke!"

"You're not gonna believe this!"

Luke quirked an eyebrow, setting the remote down. "What's up, guys?"

"Nick thinks you're hot!" Flynn blurted out, unable to contain himself.

Luke blinked, caught completely off guard. "What?"

"She said it on the phone," Alex explained. "She was talking to her friend, and she said you're 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Flynn nodded eagerly. "She also said you're annoying, but mostly that you're hot."

Luke huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the couch. "She actually said that?"

"Yup!" Flynn said proudly.

Luke shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Alright. Thanks for the intel."

The boys high-fived and ran off, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts.

Ridiculously, stupidly hot, huh?

He filed that tidbit away, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He didn't plan on using it right away--but when the right moment came, he'd be ready.

A few hours later, Nick came downstairs to grab a glass of water, grateful that the house was finally quiet. She froze when she saw Luke in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass in hand.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked casually.

"Nope," she said shortly, pouring herself some water.

As she turned to leave, she felt his eyes on her, and her steps faltered.

"What?" she snapped, glancing over her shoulder.

Luke shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Nothing. Just... interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"Nothing you'd want to admit," he said with a slight smirk, turning back to his drink.

Nick scowled, marching back upstairs, vowing to ignore whatever cryptic nonsense he was playing at. Behind her, Luke chuckled softly to himself, his smirk only growing.

Annika was still determined to go about her life as if nothing had happened. Luke was still the irritating, too-hot-for-his-own-good hockey player who'd invaded her space. Nothing more.

But he wasn't making it easy.

It started small. Like how he suddenly seemed to be everywhere she was.

Case in point: the kitchen.

Nick had just finished a workout and was rummaging through the fridge for a bottle of water when Luke appeared, freshly showered and leaning against the kitchen island.

"Morning," he said, annoyingly chipper.

"Morning," she replied shortly, avoiding eye contact.

"Work out hard?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over her.

Nick's head snapped up. "What?"

"You're all flushed," he said innocently, taking a slow sip of his protein shake. "Maybe you overdid it."

Her cheeks heated further, and she hated that he'd noticed. "I'm fine," she said, grabbing her water and slamming the fridge shut.

Luke smirked, watching her retreat.

That weekend, Andrea sent Nick and Luke to pick up groceries. It was supposed to be a simple errand, but the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Nick fiddled with the AUX, flipping through songs until Luke reached over and stilled her hand.

"Pick something already," he said, his fingers brushing hers.

The touch was brief but electric, and Nick pulled her hand back like she'd been burned.

"What's your problem?" she snapped.

Luke shrugged, trying to conceal his amusement. "No problem. You just seem... jumpy."

"I'm not jumpy," she said through gritted teeth.

"Okay?"

Nick gripped the phone a little tighter, silently cursing him and the stupid butterflies in her stomach.

That evening, the family decided to have a movie night. Nick reluctantly joined, sinking into the sofa and snatching the bowl of popcorn.

Luke sat beside her, closer than necessary, his knee brushing against hers as he man-spread.

She stiffened, but he didn't move.

"Comfortable?" she asked, shooting him a pointed look.

"Very," he said innocently.

Andrea shushed them, and Nick tried to focus on the film. But every time Luke shifted, she was hyper-aware of the warmth of his thigh against hers.

Halfway through, he reached for the popcorn, knocking her arm with his.

"Do you mind?" she hissed under her breath.

"Not at all."

Nick gritted her teeth, determined to ignore him. But when the movie ended and she stood to leave, he softly caught her wrist.

"Hey," he said, locking eyes with her. "Relax. I'm just messing with you."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she couldn't look away.

"Whatever," she muttered, yanking her hand free and hurrying upstairs.

Alex and Flynn barreled into the kitchen, sweaty and red-faced from playing street hockey.

"We crushed the neighbours!" Alex announced, dropping his stick and gloves on the floor.

Flynn followed suit, throwing himself onto one the barstools at the island. "Yeah, but Alex missed like ten open shots."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Guys," Nick interrupted. "Gear in the laundry room. Now."

The boys groaned but trudged off, muttering under their breath. A minute later, Luke strolled in, hair damp from a shower. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and hopped to sit on the counter, watching Nick with his lopsided grin.

"You run a tight ship," he teased.

"Someone has to when my parents aren't home."

Before Luke could respond, the boys returned, still arguing.

"Whatever," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "At least I'm not as bad as Bryce."

Nick scowled, her stomach sinking. "What does Bryce have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," Flynn said, grabbing a cookie off the counter. "Just saying Alex is better than him at hockey."

Luke's brow furrowed, gaze flickering between Annika and the boys. "Who's Bryce?"

"No one," Nick glared at Alex.

"Her boyfriend," he said, completely ignoring her. "Well, ex-boyfriend. He was like super into hockey but I think he sucked. Nick used to help him with his stats for school."

Nick shot him another warning look. "Shut up, Alex."

Flynn, too young to realize the tension in the room, chimed in, "He coached Alex's team last year, but he's not as cool as you, Luke."

Annika could feel Luke's eyes on her and turned away, busying herself with wiping an already-clean counter. "Bryce is like... history. Can we drop it now?"

The boys shrugged, losing interest as they rushed off to play Xbox.

Luke lingered, arms crossed, watching her closely. "So... Bryce?"

Nick sighed, turning to face him. "It's not a big deal. We dated for a while. It didn't work out. End of story."

Luke nodded slowly, though his expression shifted slightly. "Sounds like a real winner."

Nick narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing... nothing. Just that he doesn't sound like much competition."

"Competition for what?"

He shrugged. "Relax, Annika."

"You're fucking insufferable," she mumbled, pushing past him and heading for the stairs.

Luke was still thinking about Bryce.

He told himself it didn't matter, that it was none of his business, but the image of some guy hanging around Nick, talking hockey and being such an important part of her brothers' games, made his chest feel tight.

Jealousy wasn't a good look on him, but there it was, simmering just under the surface.

He was sprawled on the couch when Nick came downstairs again, her arms full of laundry. She stopped when she saw him, a guarded look on her face.

"Still brooding about Bryce?"

Luke smirked, trying to mask his annoyance. "Why would I brood about some guy I've never met?"

"Good question."

Her tone was casual, but the way she avoided his gaze told him she was more affected by their earlier conversation than she cared to admit.

She shook her head, going to walk past him. But just like the other night, he grabbed her wrist. "For the record, I don't think he deserved you."

Nick just stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Goodnight, Nick."

And with that, he got up and walked away, leaving a very confused Annika in his wake.

The rain started in the late afternoon, a light drizzle that quickly turned into a full-on downpour.

By the time Nick got home from class, her sneakers were soaked, and her hair was plastered to her face. She shoved the door open with a grunt, muttering curses under her breath.

"Rough day?"

She startled, looking up to see Luke in the living room, also soaking wet, with his bag slung over his shoulder. He must've just gotten back from practice.

"Rain fucking sucks," she said shortly, kicking off her shoes and peeling off her wet socks and jacket.

"Not a fan of Jersey weather?"

"Not when I have to walk through it because someone took the car," she snarled, brushing past him on her way to the kitchen.

He followed, watching as she rummaged through a cabinet for a snack. "Where's the rest of your family?"

"Out," she said, grabbing a box of crackers. "My mom took the boys to the movies, and my dad's working late. Why?"

"Just curious."

Nick turned to look at him, but before she could reply, a sudden crack of thunder made the house shake. The lights flickered once, twice, and then everything went dark.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned, fumbling for her phone.

"Relax," Luke said, his voice steady. "It's just a power outage."

"No big deal for you, maybe," she muttered. "I've got work to do."

"Yeah? What kind of work?"

"The kind that requires electricity."

"Well, unless you can magically fix the power grid, I'd say you're stuck."

Nick rolled her eyes, but she couldn't ignore the flutter in her chest at the way his voice sounded in the dark--low and teasing, but with an edge she couldn't quite place.

"Great. Guess I'll just sit here and wait for the apocalypse."

"Or," Luke said, his voice closer now, "you could stop being so dramatic and light some candles."

Nick scowled, but another loud crack of thunder made her jump.

Luke laughed. "Scared of storms?"

"Of course not," she snapped, though her hands were trembling slightly.

"Right."

Nick shook her head, retreating to her bedroom, hoping to escape the weird tension that always settled between them. She lit a few candles, their warm glow casting flickering shadows on the walls, and tried to focus on her textbook.

But her thoughts kept drifting--to the storm, to the empty house, and to Luke.

She didn't even hear him knock.

"Hey," he said. "Mind if I hang out in here? It's kind of creepy downstairs."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You're a professional hockey player, and you're scared of the dark?"

"Not scared. Just bored."

She sighed, gesturing for him to come in. He shut the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the small space.

For a while, they sat in silence, the sound of rain pounding against the windows filling the room.

"You're quiet," Luke said eventually.

"So are you."

He glanced at her, his eyes catching the candlelight in a way that made her stomach flip. "You've been weird around me lately."

"I'm always weird around you."

"Not like this," he whispered.

Her heart started thudding against her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Nick."

She froze at the way he said her name--soft, almost pleading. When she finally looked at him, the intensity his gaze made her breath catch.

"Are we just gonna keep pretending this thing between us doesn't exist?"

"What thing?"

Luke huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "You're really gonna make me say it?"

She didn't answer, and in the silence that followed, he got closer.

The air between them crackled, the storm outside quiet in comparison to the sound of her heart.

"I think about you... way more than I should."

Her breath hitched at his words, and he leaned in, his hand brushing hers.

"Nick," he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "Tell me to stop."

But she didn't.

Instead, she closed the distance, her mouth crashing against his in a messy kiss of spit and teeth.

His hands quickly found her waist, pulling her until they tumbled onto the bed. Hers found the curls at the nape of his neck. And outside, the storm faded into nothing.

The storm had become nothing but a soft patter of rain against the windows. Nick lay across her bed, Luke's arm draped lazily across her waist as they caught their breath.

The room was warm and still dark, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over their bodies. Nick could feel the steady rise and fall of Luke's chest against her back, his skin sticky but still comforting against hers.

"You're sweaty," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillows.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "So are you."

She wrinkled her nose but didn't move, too content--and too tired--to care.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of what had just happened settling over them. It wasn't awkward, though. If anything, it felt... right.

Luke broke the silence. "You know, the candles really set the mood."

Nick snorted, turning her head to look at him. "Oh, totally. Very romantic."

"You don't think so?"

She rolled her eyes, biting her bottom lip. "Honestly? It might've been the most romantic sex I've ever had."

"High praise."

"Don't let it go to your head."

They fell quiet again, Nick tracing lazy circles on Luke's arm as his fingers skimmed along her hip.

"Can I tell you something?" Luke said suddenly.

"Sure."

"Your brothers... they told me."

"Told you what?"

"That you think I'm hot."

"They what?!"

"Yeah," Luke smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Apparently, you were on the phone with your friend, and they overheard you saying I'm 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Nick stuffed her face in the pillows, groaning. "Oh my God. I'm gonna fucking kill them!"

"I mean," Luke continued, "I wasn't going to say anything, but now that we're here."

"Shut up."

He laughed, gently tugging her out of the pillows. "Hey, I'm flattered. Really."

"Don't be," she said, though the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Luke leaned in, his lips brushing against her temple. "For the record, I think you're ridiculously, stupidly hot too. Still wanna kill your brothers?"

"Absolutely," she said, but her voice was lighter now, her cheeks still pink.

Although killing her brothers didn't really matter when she was laying in bed with Luke.

Nick had no idea the thrill that sneaking around would give her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the stolen moments--the way Luke's touch would linger as he walked past her, the charged glances across the room, the whispered goodnights as they traded the bathroom.

It was dangerous and utterly addictive.

She hated how much she liked it.

Family dinners at the Thompsons were always chaotic (as were most things in their house). Andrea was bustling between the kitchen and the dining room, carrying plates of steaming food, while George tried to wrangle Alex and Flynn into their seats.

Luke sat across from Nick, his expression perfectly innocent as he buttered a piece of bread.

Nick didn't trust him for a second.

The meal started without incident--Andrea asking Luke about practice and an upcoming roadie, Flynn babbling about a school project, Alex loudly debating which NHL team had the best defence. Nick tried to focus on her food, keeping her gaze firmly away from the boy across the table.

Until she felt it.

A soft nudge against her ankle.

She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, and glanced up. Luke's eyes were on his plate, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Nick shifted her leg, but the nudge came again--this time more deliberate, slowly moving up her calf.

Her eyes narrowed.

Subtly, she kicked back.

Luke's smirk widened, but he didn't react otherwise, his foot pressing against hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

"Nick," Andrea said, snapping her out of the moment. "Pass the salad, please."

Annika blinked, her face burning as she shoved the salad bowl across the table.

"You okay?" her mom raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Nick said quickly, glaring at Luke.

He looked up then, his smirk replaced with an innocent smile. "Everything alright, Nick?"

She wanted to throttle him.

Instead, she dropped her napkin on the floor, ducking under the table.

"What're you doing?" Alex asked as she crouched, fumbling for the napkin.

"Nothing," she muttered.

She grabbed the napkin--and Luke's ankle.

He jerked slightly, his leg pulling away, but she squeezed just hard enough to make her point before sitting back up.

"You sure everything's okay?" Andrea asked, her tone tinged with suspicion.

Nick forced a smile, her heart pounding. "Just peachy."

Across the table, Luke's smirk was back, but this time it was tinged with something darker--something that made Nick's breath catch in her throat.

Later that evening, they weren't so lucky.

Andrea had sent the boys upstairs to clean their shared room while she and George tidied up the kitchen. Nick, seizing the opportunity, had slipped into Luke's room under the pretense of "helping him settle." As if he hadn't lived there for weeks.

Luke was waiting for her, his grin smug as he pulled her inside and shut the door.

"You're getting reckless," he teased, his hands sliding around her waist.

"You're the one who started it... and keeps tempting me," she shot back, her voice breathless as he backed her against the closet door.

"Is that so?"

Her lips found hers, and for a moment, she forgot all her worries--her parents, the risk, the fact that her brothers were just down the hall.

Until the footsteps started.

"Luke!"

Nick froze as Flynn's voice rang out.

"Shit," she whispered, shoving Luke back.

He stumbled slightly, but didn't stop smiling. "Relax."

The door burst open a second later, Flynn standing there with hockey stick in hand.

"There you are!" he exclaimed. "Alex and I want you too referee!"

Luke cleared his throat, stepping back even further from Nick. "Uh, yeah, for sure. Be right there."

Flynn squinted at his big sister. "What are you doing in here?"

"Helping him find something," she lied, her face burning.

Flynn shrugged. "Okay, whatever." He turned and darted back down the hall, yelling for Alex."

Nick let out a shaky breath, her head dropping back against the closet.

"That was close."

Luke chuckled, stepping closer again. "Too close?"

"Yes," she hissed, swatting his arm as he leaned in.

"You love it," he teased, his lips brushing her ear before pulling back. "I'll see you later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Nick to realize that she did, in fact, love it.

The bathroom was filled with steam, despite the fan being on. The warm spray of the shower drowned out the storm that had started outside.

Nick leaned back against the cool tiled wall, her skin slick with water, as Luke pressed a line of soft kisses along her collarbone.

"This is so stupid," she mumbled, her hands sliding over his shoulders.

"Probably," he agreed, smirking as he pulled back to look at her. "But when have we ever done anything smart?"

"If we get caught--"

"We won't," he promised, pushing his lips against hers.

The sound of a knock at the bathroom door had them both pulling away.

"Luke?" Andrea's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Oh my God," Nick mouthed, her heart hammering inside her chest.

Luke held a hand up, silently telling her to stay silent, before clearing his throat. "Uh--yeah?"

"Have you seen Annika?" Andrea asked. "I thought she might be in her room, but she's not."

Luke shot Nick a panicked look, and she mimed strangling him, her lips forming "fix this."

"Uh, no," Luke said, scrambling for an excuse. "I think she said something about--uh--going for a walk?"

"A walk? In this weather?"

Luke winced, cursing himself for the lame excuse. "Yeah, she, uh...said she likes the rain. Said it's like refreshing or something?"

Nick buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

There was a long pause on the other side of the door, and Luke could practically feel Andrea's doubt seeping through the wood.

"Well, alright," she said finally, though her tone was still dubious. "Let me know if you see her, okay?"

"Will do," he said, waiting until he heard her footsteps retreating before turning to Nick.

She was doubled over with laughter now, her hands braced against the wall. "Refreshing?" she wheezed, still whispering. "That's the best you could come up with?"

Luke scowled. "You're welcome."

Nick pressed her chest against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Guess I should be grateful," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. "You're quick on your feet when panicking."

"Yeah, well," his hands settled on her waist, "let's just hope your mom doesn't start asking more questions."

Nick smirked, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Guess we'll have to be more careful, huh?"

"Guess so."

They'd barely recovered from their bathroom incident, but Luke seemed determined to push their luck even further.

They were standing in the kitchen, the rest of the family scattered--Andrea folding laundry upstairs, George in his office, and the boys glued to a hockey game on the TV.

Nick was just trying to make herself some tea, trying to ignore Luke's presence at the counter, when she felt him move closer.

"Relax," he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in his chin on her shoulder. "Nobody's around."

"Ugh, you're insane."

"Probably," he said.

"Luke, not here," she tried to escape his grasp, but his hockey training must've been paying off because he wouldn't budge.

"Why not?"

"Because we almost got caught earlier. You're pushing our luck. If someone walked i--"

Her words her cut off as he spun her around, her lips ghosting his. She crumbled instantly, her fingers gripping the counter as she kissed him back.

"Annika!"

"Fuck me," she groaned, jerking back so quickly she almost knocked the kettle over.

"Later," Luke retorted, earning a glare.

"What?" she called back.

"I need some help up here! Can you make your brothers' beds?"

"Uh--yeah! I'll be right there, Mom!" She pressed her palms against Luke's chest. "You're a bad influence."

He shrugged, moving to let her escape upstairs with her tea in hand, but not without giving her ass one last squeeze.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

Luke seemed determined to finish what they started in the shower, because he'd managed to be in the laundry room just as she was heading there to grab her mom a blanket.

"Are you fucking tracking me?"

"Just lucky timing."

"You're going to be the reason we get caught."

"Only if you scream," he teased, boosting her on top of the washing machine.

"Luke..."

"Relax," he pressed a kiss to her neck.

She really wanted to believe that they'd be in the clear down in the basement, but apparently her parents really wanted that spare blanket.

"Let's go, Nick! Chop, chop!" George shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Coming! Coming!"

"God, why is it so hard to get you alone?" Luke groaned.

"Welcome to my life."

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Nick knew their little game of sneaking around was risky, but she hadn't pushed it to stop. She blamed Luke entirely--his stupid smirk, his stupid face, the way he couldn't seem to ever keep his hands to himself.

But when the door to her bedroom flew open late one afternoon, she swore she had a heart attack.

"Annika!"

Her mom's voice was sharp, the shock in her tone unmistakable as she stood frozen in the doorway.

Nick and Luke jerked apart like they'd been electrocuted, the tangled sheets doing little to hide the situation.

"Mom!" Nick shrieked, her face going bright red as she scrambled to grab the blanket.

Andrea's eyes darted between them, her face covered in disbelief and mortification. "Luke?"

Luke, to his credit, managed a sheepish smile he sat up, adjusting his shirt and ruffling a hand through his hair. "Uh...hi, Andrea."

She blinked, her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to form words but she couldn't process what she was seeing.

"I--I'm gonna go see your father," she shook her head, backing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Nick groaned, burying her face in her hands. "We're so fucking dead."

Luke flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "I told you to lock the door."

"Luke!"

"Yeah, this is... not ideal."

The tension in the living room was palpable as Nick and Luke sat on the sofa, side by side, waiting for her parents to join them. The rest of the house was quiet for once--Alex and Flynn had been banished upstairs with strict instructions not to come down.

Andrea and George finally appeared, their expressions grim as they sat down across from the couple.

"Well," George began, clearing his throat. "This is, uh... unexpected."

Nick wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Andrea crossed her arms, her gaze sharp as it landed on Luke. "I think we need to have a very serious conversation about boundaries."

Luke nodded quickly, the confidence he'd felt the last few days nowhere to be found. "Of course. Absolutely."

She turned to Nick, her tone just as firm. "Annika, you're an adult, and I understand that you're going to make your own decisions, but this is our home. And there are certain... expectations."

Nick groaned, slouching further into the couch. "Mom--"

"No," Andrea interrupted. "This is important. You're under our roof, and we expect you to be respectful of that."

George cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. "What your mother is trying to say is, uh, we don't want anything... inappropriate happening here."

Nick buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. "Can we not do this right now?"

"We absolutely need to do this right now," Andrea said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

She turned back to Luke. "We welcomed you into our home, Luke, and we expect you to behave like a gentleman. This... this cannot happen again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Luke said quickly, nodding so fervently it was a wonder his head didn't fall off.

"And that goes for you too, Annika," Andrea added, fixing her with a pointed look.

"I get it," she muttered, her face still hidden.

"Good," Andrea said, standing. "Because if I find you two in a... situation again, you're both going to regret it."

George stood as well, patting Luke awkwardly on the shoulder. "Just, uh, keep things... above board, okay?"

"Got it."

The parents left, leaving Nick and Luke in stunned silence.

After a long pause, Nick finally spoke, her voice still muffled by her hands. "I'm never leaving his house again."

"I don't know. I think that went pretty well," Luke let out a breathless laugh.

Nick finally dropped her hands to glare at him. "Pretty well? Are you kidding me?"

"Hey, at least your dad didn't kill me... or cut off my balls."

"You-- UGH!"

"If you say so."

The shift in the house was obvious.

Andrea seemed to materialize whenever Luke and Annika were in the same room, her watchful gaze making Nick's skin crawl. George was less obvious but still lingered nearby, pretending to fiddle with the thermostat or check a sports score while clearly keeping tabs on them.

Even Alex and Flynn had picked up that something was wrong, their usual teasing replaced with curious glances and hushed whispering.

"Your mom's fucking scary," Luke said one evening, his voice low as he passed Nick in the hallway.

"You're telling me," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure nobody was around.

Luke smirked, leaning closer. "So... does this mean we're done?"

Nick frowned. "Done with what?"

"This," he gestured between them.

She hesitated, gnawing at her bottom lip. "I don't know. Do you really think it's worth getting caught again?"

Luke leaned against the wall, his grin softening into something more sincere. "Yeah. I do."

"You--"

"I'm insane, I know But I'm not ready to let this go. Are you?"

Her walls crumbled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers.

"Fine," she whispered. "But you have to keep it under wraps. I'm not dealing with my mom's wrath again."

"Deal."

Keeping things under wraps was easier said than done.

Every interaction felt like a minefield, with Andrea constantly dissecting their every move.

Luke made it harder by being... well, Luke.

He would brush against her as he passed by. He'd lean in close to whisper something that wasn't remotely necessary.

It was maddening.

One night after dinner, they were in the kitchen, Nick washing dishes while Luke dried. Andrea was sitting at the table, her back to them, flipping through a magazine.

Luke bumped her hip with his, his voice low. "You're tense."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"She's not even looking," he grinned, reaching for a plate.

"She doesn't have to look. She knows everything."

"You're paranoid."

Sitting in the backyard under the stars, finally having time together. Their hands were intertwined as they stared up at the sky.

"Is it really worth all the trouble?" Nick whispered.

"Of course it is," he replied, swinging their hands.

"Why?"

"Because I like you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Nick didn't respond, but the smile on her face told him all he needed to know.

A quiet afternoon in the Thompson house was hard to come by. The boys were upstairs playing video games, Andrea and George watching a show in their room.

Nick and Luke were taking advantage, lounging on the sofa and watching a movie.

Well, trying to watch a movie.

Luke kept nudging her with his knee, a silent plea for attention that she ignored for as long as she could.

"What?" she paused the movie, turning to look at him.

"Nothing. Just... thinking."

"Dangerous," she teased, though her stomach fluttered at the way he was looking at her--soft yet serious.

"Nick," he said, his voice lower. "I've been thinking about this for a while now."

"Okay..."

"I want to make this official," he said, his hand finding hers. "I know we've been sneaking around and keeping things quiet, but I... really, really like you. And I want to do this for real."

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah... I guess I am."

Nick hesitated. She knew this was risky, that saying yes meant inviting even more complications into their already chaotic situation.

But as she looked at him--his goofy grin, the way his thumb brushed over her knuckles--she knew she couldn't say no.

"Okay. Let's do it."

Luke's grin grew, and before she could second-guess herself, he leaned in and kissed her.

"Ew!"

They sprang apart, Flynn stood in the doorway, his face scrunched in disgust.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at them.

Nick scrambled to her feet. "Flynn! Don't you knock?"

"This is the living room!" he retorted. "You can't kiss here!"

Luke cleared his throat, standing up and running a hand through his hair. "Uh, maybe we keep this between us, bud?"

"Why?"

Nick groaned. "Flynn--"

But he was already running toward the kitchen, yelling at the top of his lungs.

It didn't take long for Alex to join the chaos, and before Nick and Luke could figure out what to do, both boys were standing in front of their parents, firing off questions.

"If Luke and Annika get married, does that mean he gets to live here forever?" Flynn asked, his face alight with excitement.

"Wait, does this mean Luke is our brother now?" Alex added, his brow furrowed.

"Do you think Luke will take us to games since he's Annika's boyfriend?"

Andrea's eye widened, snapping to Nick and Luke, who were standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Annika," she said slowly, her tone suspiciously calm, "is there something you'd like to tell us?"

Nick opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She glanced at Luke, silently begging him to say anything, but he looked just as panicked.

"Well?"

Nick swallowed harshly. "It's not what it looks like--"

"It's exactly what it looks like," Flynn interrupted. "They were kissing on the couch!"

"Flynn!" Nick hissed.

Andrea sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as George rubbed the back of his neck.

"Annika," Andrea said firmly, "we talked about boundaries."

"I know! And we only kissed! We've been careful!"

"Careful? You were kissing in the living room!"

Flynn leaned over to Alex, whispering loudly. "Do you think they kiss a lot?"

Luke coughed, trying to stifle a laugh, but one sharp look from Andrea wiped the grin from his face.

"This isn't funny. We'll be having a conversation about this later."

"Great!" Nick threw her hands up.

There they were, sat on the couch... again. Two angry parents in front of them like they'd just gotten in trouble for something stupid.

"Alright," Andrea said. "Start talking."

Nick glanced at Luke, who gave her a small, reassuring squeeze of the hand before she cleared her throat. "Look, I know this isn't ideal, but... Luke and I really like each other."

"Really like each other?"

Nick nodded, her voice steadier now. "Yes, and we've been trying to keep it low-key because we didn't want to make things weird for everyone else."

Andrea snorted. "Well, that worked out great."

"I know it's a lot to ask," Luke said, leaning forward. "But I care about Nick. A lot. And I don't want to mess up the trust you've shown me by letting me stay here, and I don't want to make things uncomfortable for your family. But I also don't want to pretend I don't... like Nick."

Her gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained guarded. She looked at George, who shrugged.

"They're adults," he said simply. "I'm not thrilled about it, but it's not like we can tell Nick who she can and can't date."

Andrea sighed, hands on her hips. "I guess that's true. But if this is going to continue, there are going to be rules."

Nick and Luke exchanged a quick glance, relief washing over them.

"Rules?" Nick asked cautiously.

"Yes, rules. First, no sleeping in each other's rooms. Doesn't matter if you're both adults, it's my house, that's my rule."

"Understood," Luke nodded.

"Second," she continued, "keep the PDA to a minimum. Especially in front of the boys. I don't need Alex and Flynn asking any more awkward questions."

"Agreed."

"Third...if I catch you breaking these rules, this arrangement is over. Got it?"

"Got it," they said in unison.

"Alright. As long as you respect the rules, I won't stand in your way."

"Thank you," Luke said sincerely.

"Don't screw this up, kid," George whispered to him as he left.

"I won't."

A few months later, the whole Thompson family was packed into The Rock, cheering as the Devils faced off against the Pens.

Alex and Flynn were decked out in jerseys, cheering as loud as they could, while Andrea and George clapped politely whenever Luke's name was mentioned.

Nick sat by her brothers, trying (and failing) to hide her smile every time Luke skated by.

When he scored late in the first period, Flynn jumped out of his seat, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY SISTER'S BOYFRIEND!"

Nick groaned, pulling her Hughes jersey over her red face as the people around them laughed.

But when Luke glanced at their section, his grin wide as he pointed toward her, she couldn't help but cheer just as loudly.

Because, for better or for worse, Luke was a large part of her life now. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine

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captain-bubble-wrap · 8 hours ago

Note

I'm over winter. I need sundress obsessed Quinn back in my life, k thanks! 🤤

Gods, you and me both! 🙂‍↕️ Mild content warning//implied sexual interactions.

"I want to take you somewhere," Quinn smirked, watching you put your makeup on. He hadn't been standing there very long, however long enough that he was obviously up to something. You had flown to Florida yesterday morning, so you had spent the day with him at the lake house. Today, it seemed, someone was suffering from cabin fever.

"Like where?" You asked, focused on setting your false lashes in the right spot.

"I dunno. Just...somewhere."

With a soft laugh, you'd shoot him a cute, sideways glance. "That sounds slightly ominous, babe."

Quinn smirked a second time, "I just want to take you out for the day, show you around."

"Show me around or show me off?" You teased, making him laugh at your quick whit.

"Both?"

"Quinny!" You replied in comedic shock, in that whiny tone he loved. You knew what he meant, but you couldn't miss the opportunity to tease him.

"You know I love you," he reassured, leaving the doorframe he was leaned against to come up behind you. His hands found your waist while you found your mascara.

"I love you too, Quinn." You tried to ignore him after that, but as you leaned forward, to get closer to the mirror, you couldn't help but press into his hips and see him smile over your shoulder.

"What are you trying to do?" He said, trying to contain a wider smile, one brow arched slightly.

"I'm trying to do my makeup, Quinn! I don't know what it is you're doing!" Try as you might, you'd break first. Your giggles instantly melting away your once determined facade.

Quinn would pull you a little closer, "I'm just standing here."

You stood up, turning around to ruin whatever fun he was trying to have. His pout the clear indication, like taking a toy away from a child. "I'll make a deal with you, baby."

Catching his attention, that bottom lip would quickly retract, "Yeah?"

"Mhm, how about you go pick me something to wear while I finish my makeup? Then you can show me off, or around," you winked, giving him a quick kiss.

Quinn's expression brightened, like he wasn't expecting you to say anything like that. It was clear that he was excited to have such permission. "Really?"

He could be so ridiculously adorable, especially when his emotions were genuine. "Really."

"Anything?" He pressed, that devious tone you forgot he had, painting his reply.

"Within reason, Quinn." You said, giving him one of "those looks". "I'm sure there are enough options for you to pick from. I know I over-packed like always."

He'd give a playful look on his face before leaving you to finish getting ready. You could have watched him dig through your suitcase, but you really did want to be finished just incase he was much quicker than anticipated. Thankfully, your over-night curls just needed let down, so once he came back, you'd be ready within ten minutes, if he could keep his hands off of you long enough to do so.

Lashes done, lipstick on, and after a quick spritz of some setting spray, you just needed to be given your chosen outfit. Finding it odd that you had actually finished before him, you made your way back into his adjoining bedroom to see what was keeping him. There, on the bed, Quinn had two sundresses laid out, standing before him like he was making a ground-breaking decision.

"Problems?" You asked, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"No...," he lied, pausing for a moment. "I like this one for today, I think."

You'd let go of him to see what he had picked, and honestly, you weren't surprised which ones had made the final selection. There was a reason you had packed so many sundresses, not just because it was Florida in the summertime, but because you remembered how a few of them had driven him crazy the first time you had wore them. The one he was holding was black and covered with orange and yellow sunflowers. It had a fuller skirt; one meant for twirling around, and just low-cut enough in the front that the girls could be seen if he wanted a tasteful peek.

"I love this one," you commented, taking it from him and slipping away to the bathroom once more. It wouldn't take long to get into it, or to let your hair down. Quinn had patiently waited for you to come out instead of asking you if you needed him. In reality, you'd have to ask him to help you with the zipper. You could have done it yourself, but it was more fun if you included him, knowing it would make his heart race just a little.

"Baby, can you help me?" You asked, standing in the doorway.

"Of course."

You pulled your hair over your shoulder, the black satin hairbow affixed at the back of your head had been sprayed with your perfume and it was now near his nose.

"You smell wonderful," he added, his shaky fingers fumbling with the zipper for a moment.

"Thank you. It's the perfume you got me for my birthday," you said, turning around once he was done.

"And you look beautiful." Quinn couldn't take his eyes off your body, it taking him a moment to return his gaze to your face. It didn't bother you, because you knew Quinn never put your looks before the real reasons he loved you so much. 'How you look is just a bonus,' he always reassured you, and you knew he meant it.

"Thank you, baby," you smiled, arms falling around his neck as he held you; his hands tracing the curves of your body lightly. "I love you."

"I love you, too. I love you so much," he grinned, finding your mouth for a soft kiss that developed into a deeper one.

"Careful, or you'll be wearing more of my lipstick than I am."

His lips would trace your jawline then down your neck. You'd squirm slightly against the feeling of his stubble against your body as he moved to dot the lightest kisses atop your exposed cleavage, you smiling the whole time.

"I don't want to go anywhere, just yet. Maybe in a little bit. I think there might be a storm coming in or something," he smirked, picking you up to take you over to the bed. Quinn would lay you down gently, his delicate fingers sliding up your thighs as he urged you just to lay back and relax. "There's plenty of time to go out later."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot

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sturnslutz · 3 hours ago

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introducing... teenagedirtbag!matt and innocent!reader

use of y/n a couple times.

matt had always been one to ignore girls. not that he didn’t like them, but because he truly just didn’t want them. his “bad boy” persona really lures girls in, and he’s learned that over the years.

his bad rep started off when he was only a young boy, not paying attention in class, and snapping back at teachers which caused multiple suspensions, detentions, and even one expulsion.

him getting expelled from full circle high school in somerville really turned his family’s life around. his brothers, chris and nick, were the complete opposite of him, but because he got switched, they had to too.

you weren't a very social person, but you weren't super shy. you could go and ask someone a question if you were lost, but you couldn't tell someone what they did wrong, even if it hurts you.

that's what some people adored about you, that you're so innocent. so pure. that's what people base you off of, and build on it.

"oh yeah, angel? she's so nice!" the amount of times you have heard that about you. people even named you angel, which you weren't mad about, but no one really called you by your actual name anymore.

somerville high was a dreading place for you. toxic jocks, wannabe pick me girls who bully the quiet kids when no doubt, they're 10x smarter. who even cares about grades anymore? high school social pyramids are based on how much you sleep with people and if you take drugs, which automatically puts you at a "higher level."

unfortunately, you were right in the middle. you smoked a couple times, but it wasn't a big thing. and obviously, you haven't hooked up with anyone, not even holding hands.

it was like sexual experiences were resistant to you no matter how much you craved it. you were literally the face of the quote, "perverted bitch with an angelic face."

others have told you that you had a sort of, "angelic presence" about you. like you were this breath of fresh air everyone desperately craved for, and it came naturally to you.

you were in math class, sitting in the back of the class with your tight clothes that hugged your curves perfectly, with an airpod in. you still paid attention to whatever the teacher was talking about, but she was currently at her desk allowing you guys to have a little break, or so she calls it. a certain announcement makes you take your headphone out.

"next class we're having a new student come into our class by the name of matthew sturniolo. i expect you all to treat him with kindness and respect."

matthew sturniolo? that sounded super familiar.

you looked down at your phone, opening up instagram and searching through your followers.

@matthew.sturniolo

he followed you already. and you followed him back.

he had liked a couple of your posts and stories, but you guys have never talked. he was so fine, and he had this dark vibe about him that had you soaked.

you would never admit it, but your thighs clenched a couple times when looking at his pics. you can't be thinking like this. you turn off your phone, putting your airpod in, blasting your music, rubbing your eyes to get those thoughts out of head.

you didn't even know what "thoughts" they actually were. you've never watched porn or anything, or even actually touched yourself properly. you just knew that you had a growing ache in between your legs.

the next day came faster than you had thought. upon remembering that matt would be arriving, you dressed in one of your best outfits, that was simple but showed everything that needed to be shown, perfectly.

you had sat in your seat, feet tapping against the ground repeatedly as you fiddled your thumbs in your lap. you turned around everytime someone walked in, and finally he walked in.

he walked so calmly and you both made eye contact immediately to which you turned around and acted cool. or so you thought.

you hadn't seen, but matt smirked softly as he took a seat a couple rows up next to some guy named jack who you've talked to a couple times. they immediately spark up a conversation, probably having met earlier and already became friends.

class had started, and your teacher kept talking. you had forgot a vital rule in her class, assigned seats. "hello matthew, welcome to the class. i hope everyone treats you with kindness and you make your time here productive. unfortunately, we do have assigned seats, and i have you seated next to, y/n. she's in the back over there."

she points to you and you don't necessarily notice as you're looking down at your phone. "y/n." you look up to the sound of your name being called a bit sternly, and see your teacher and a couple pairs of eyes looking at you, and a certain matt who was grabbing his bag.

"yes?" "matthew is coming to sit next to you." your eyes widen a bit as you make eye contact with him again as he walks towards you, smirking at you softly. you nod to the teacher and pull your eyes away from matt, who's now sitting next to you.

"sup." he slumps down next to you, your knees hitting each other. "hi." you respond, no more than a whisper. he nods and goes on his phone, the both of your guys' knees still rested on each other.

"we follow each other on insta right?" he says as he pulls your profile up, a sudden wave of embarrassment flowing through you as he clicks through your highlight of yourself, lingering a bit too long on the few bikini pics or pajama pics.

"mhm." you hum. he chuckles softly, nodding again. "nice." he puts his phone away, and his eyes rake over your body. you pay no attention to it as you tap on your computer a couple times to start working on the assignment.

"wanna hangout later?" you almost thought you were dreaming. "w-what?" you look over at him, your eyes meeting. "hangout. later. i'll pick you up and we can jus' go to the park or somethin'. whatever you wanna do. not a date though. jus' wan' a pretty girl to show me her favorite spots."

he had a certain tone to his last words, "favorite spots" which gave you a hint of something else besides what he was saying, a hidden intent in his words. this caused a shiver through you before you nod. "um, yeah sure. here." you hand him your phone for him to put his number in, and he does, quickly texting himself before taking his phone out, texting you back and saving your contact.

"'ight. i'll pick you up later, yeah?" "yeah, sure."

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 comment to be added or removed.

#alexis talks #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #=teenagedirtbag!matt #=innocent!reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt stuniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturnslutz

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airybcby · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! I just read your “but my luck couldn't get any worse” and I’m obsessed with the crossover idea!

I would like to suggest Nagi with 🍓🍫

And if you cant get to it that’s totally okay ! I will be reading all the other ones anyways 🩵🥰

hi hi!!

a nagi seishiro chocolate covered strawberry :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° hang up, give up

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — nagi seishiro x gn! reader, gn! reader, i leaned very heavy into nagi being lazy, pls know ik there's more to his character but this made the story flow better, unrequited love, reo mentioned a lot, reo has slight feelings for reader, reader kinda likes reo, mentions of nagi being unhelpful

♡ synopsis — nagi seishiro wasn't known for being the most productive person, but even your feelings for him can't stop you from wondering what life would be like if you were paired with someone else

You didn’t expect much when your name showed up next to Nagi Seishiro’s on the list of marriage simulation pairs.

If anything, it felt like a cruel joke.

Nagi wasn’t someone who made an effort in relationships—platonic or otherwise. You’d known that for years. And yet, despite everything, you’d fallen for him. Slowly. Hopelessly.

He’d always been so unattainable, a puzzle you could never solve.

So when the simulation started, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just a program. A grade.

But being in close quarters with him every day made it harder to pretend.

Nagi wasn’t exactly the ideal partner.

He spent most of his time sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone or playing video games.

“You don’t have to do anything for this to work,” he said once, when you suggested setting up a schedule for chores. “We can just...exist. Isn’t that easier?”

You bit your tongue, unwilling to start an argument.

It was so typically Nagi—avoiding effort at all costs. And yet, you couldn’t stop the small flicker of hope in your chest.

Maybe this was your chance to finally break through his walls.

One afternoon, Reo stopped by to check in.

He’d been your friend for as long as you could remember, always lingering on the periphery of your relationship with Nagi.

“Still alive?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“Barely,” you muttered, glancing over your shoulder at Nagi, who was curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

Reo laughed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You deserve a medal for putting up with him, you know that?”

You forced a smile, unsure how to respond.

Because lately, you’d started noticing the way Reo looked at you—the way he always seemed to be there when you needed someone.

And it terrified you.

The turning point came during one of the simulation’s mandatory couple tasks: a mock date night.

You’d spent the entire afternoon trying to get Nagi to engage, but he’d shrugged off every suggestion you made.

“Can’t we just skip it?” he mumbled, burying his face in a pillow.

“No, we can’t,” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “This is important, Nagi. Can’t you at least try?”

He sighed, sitting up slowly. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

But his indifference stung more than you cared to admit.

Reo was the one who noticed your mood the next day.

“You okay?” he asked, catching you in the hallway after class.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just tired.”

But Reo didn’t buy it.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to stress out about him. If you ever help to get him to start doing things, I’m here.”

For a moment, you felt a pang of something warm and unfamiliar—comfort, maybe.

And it scared you. Because no matter how kind Reo was, your heart still belonged to Nagi.

As the weeks went on, your feelings for Nagi only grew more complicated.

There were moments when he seemed almost...present. Like when he helped you carry groceries up to the apartment without being asked, or when he casually draped a blanket over your shoulders during a movie night.

But those moments were fleeting, drowned out by his usual apathy.

And through it all, Reo remained a constant presence in your life, always there to pick up the pieces when Nagi let you down.

On the final night of the simulation, you found yourself alone with Nagi in the living room, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken truth.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m just...tired,” you admitted finally. “This whole thing—it’s been a lot.”

Nagi frowned, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to make it harder for you.”

For a moment, you thought he might say more. That he might finally acknowledge the connection you’d been chasing all this time.

But instead, he stood up, yawning. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

When the simulation ended, you packed up your things and said goodbye to Nagi without looking back.

Reo was waiting for you outside, his expression a mix of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You could have asked for help with him. I know he's kinda hard to deal with. ” he said again, his voice steady.

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Reo could be what you needed.

But as you walked away, your heart still ached for Nagi—for the boy who would never love you the way you wanted him to.

And you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to let him go.

i wrote this very late in the night and idk if i like it

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #airy answers asks :)#blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #bllk nagi #bllk nagi seishiro #blue lock nagi #blue lock nagi seishiro

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joongieology · 2 days ago

Text

2U | Jeong Yunho

Pairing: Jeong Yunho X Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: University AU(?), cussing, mention of violence, possessive!Yunho, obsessive tendencies (please let me know if I missed something!)

Sypnosis: You're sure that your best friend has always been kind and friendly with everyone, so when you found out otherwise, you did not want to believe it, or maybe you're in denial.

Song Recommendation: 2U by Justin Bieber

Note: I've been working on this for a while. The idea behind this story is so good but I'm not sure if I delivered it properly >_< Anyways, happy reading!!

¡Disclaimer: The following content is a work of fiction and does NOT represent the written member in any way!

You've known Yunho since, like, forever. You can't even remember how you first met him, just that you've known him since you were in grade school. Wherever you are, he'd be there too. You two were inseparable. So when you got accepted to the university you've always dreamt of attending, and he didn't, he was beyond devastated.

You were sitting side by side on the couch of your apartment when you checked the results. You squealed in happiness seeing that you got accepted. You immediately looked over Yunho with a big smile, but it slowly disappeared when you saw his expression. He was just sitting there silently, disappointment evident in his eyes, with a hint of...anger? But his expression changed right away when he heard your voice.

"Yuyu?" You called out to him slowly, gently tapping him on the shoulder. He always loves it when you call him by the nickname you made for him; it sounds almost angelic when it comes from your lips. It's as if he is an angel himself, or so you thought. He looked over to you and gave you a tight smile.

"I didn't get in. I got waitlisted." He almost couldn't get the words out; it felt like something was blocking his throat. Just thinking about you being away from him and being surrounded by other people, especially men, made him want to pull his hair out.

You hugged him from the side, slowly caressing his arm, trying to comfort him.

"That's alright; we can still meet from time to time. Every day, or maybe five times a week, or on the weekends, if we're not too busy..." You tried to sound convincing, but even you were sad with the thought of being away from Yunho. You were always together that you forgot the feeling of being alone, so the idea of not having him by your side in a new school, a new environment, tormented you.

The university was far from where you currently live, so it would be quite hard to see each other much, considering you'll also have to stay at the dorm once college starts. Unless he finds another school in the same city the university is at.

You pulled away from the hug, thinking about other ways to comfort him.

"Would you like to stay over...?"

Yunho staying over is nothing new. He always sleeps over when it gets too late while you're having a movie marathon, completely forgetting about the time. He almost always sleeps on the couch, except that one time.

You were at the kitchen, getting some water because you were parched from bingeing your current favourite TV show, when someone knocked at the door. You looked at the clock; it's currently two in the morning. Who could be here at this hour? You peeked through the peephole to find no one. Okay, now, what the fu— Your line of thoughts was interrupted when you heard another pair of knocks. "Y/N." Someone from the other side of the door whispered, so low you almost didn't hear it. Yunho. You opened the door to find a nearly zombie-like looking Yunho. He was crouching down, back towards the door. He looked up at you from his position and grinned. "Hi." He said with a smile, standing, then hugging you, practically putting all his weight on you. He reeks of alcohol. "Yuyu, can you stand properly? You're so big, and you're putting all your weight on me!" You whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake your neighbours. He giggled like a kid while you're still struggling trying to hold him up. He attempted to stand properly and started walking to your bedroom, but he ended up walking in zigzag. When he finally got to your room, he removed his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving only his boxers on, then lay down on your bed. Even when drunk, he still remembered how you dislike getting on the bed with outside clothes on. You felt your cheeks flush. You shut your eyes and turned around. Inhale, exhale. This would've been nothing to you if your friendship was purely platonic, which it was until it wasn't. You honestly don't know when, but one day, you just started to look at Yunho...differently. You're suddenly aware of every little thing he did for you that you weren't aware of when you only saw him as your best friend. Like remembering the things you like, you don't like, and doing things for you—for your convenience. But of course, you wouldn't dare confess your feelings to him, fearing that it might ruin your lifelong friendship. You faced the bed, eyes still shut but peeking a little, and you walked towards Yunho and covered him with your blanket. You stared at him peacefully sleeping on your bed, in your apartment, with nothing but a pair of boxer shorts on. He looked like a prince. You went over to the other side of the bed, lifting the blanket to get under it, when your eyes caught something purple on the side of his waist. It was a bruise. What did he do? Where was he? Why does he have a bruise like this? You took note of asking him tomorrow about this and also putting a cold compress on it, then you went to bed.

After that night, you asked him about the bruise, but he just shrugged it off and told you that he just bumped into something and not to worry too much about it. You did not press further because he looked like he didn't want to talk about it at all.

"Would that be alright...?" He answered you with a question.

"Yeah, I mean, you often sleep over anyway; it's no big deal."

He showed you a smile and kissed you on the forehead, like he always does.

-~-

It was officially the first day of college, and you stood in front of the gate, mentally preparing yourself for the new environment you'll be facing. No Yunho, no nothing, just you and the infinity necklace he had given you before you moved over to the dorm—and your things of course.

While walking, you looked around, scanning the buildings, trying to look for the building name written at the schedule given to you, which was saved to your phone.

You bumped into someone looking as confused as you.

"Are you a freshman, too?" You build up the courage and start the conversation. If you want to make friends, better make one now.

"Yeah," she answered, looking awkward.

You glanced at her phone and saw the exact same schedule as yours.

"Oh! We're classmates!" Excitement was evident in your tone. At least you'll have a friend among your classmates, or so you hope.

You looked for your building together, almost getting a headache from going around the campus. When you finally found the building, you immediately went to your room, and class started.

Lunch came, and you went to the cafeteria with your newfound friend. You were peacefully munching on your lunch—thinking about what Yunho would be doing right now—when someone placed their lunch beside yours. You smelt his perfume and instantly knew.

"Hi." He was smiling yet again.

"You—why—what are you doing here??" You don't know what to ask first. You were just genuinely happy he was here. Even when other students that were sitting near your table started to scatter away while murmuring something among themselves, you still didn't care.

You hugged Yunho around his neck.

"I go here now."

"What—how??"

"Long story. Don't worry about it. What's important is I'm here now, right?" He uncapped a drink—your favourite drink—and placed it in your hands.

You nodded, sipping on the drink. You glanced over at your friend sitting beside you, her face pale with shock written all over it, while staring at Yunho.

"What's wrong?" You asked, concerned.

"N-nothing." She gave you a tight smile and went back to eating.

Odd. You gazed at Yunho, and he just gave you a shrug with that infamous smile of his, urging you to finish eating.

The next few days went by. You were thrilled to have Yunho at the same school. You always hung out together, sometimes bringing your friend along with you. Yunho didn't seem to mind, saying, 'As long as you're happy.'.

College was actually tolerable, better than you imagined. Your friend invited you to go to a party on Friday night, insisting you bring Yunho too.

You talked about this with Yunho. At first he was reluctant, claiming your friend is not trustworthy and you shouldn't be hanging out with her too much, but eventually, he agreed.

The place of the party was not too far away from the university. It was a big house with a pool in the backyard and a beautiful garden at the front. It was packed, some people dancing, some just hanging out drinking beer or heavy liquor, some kissing, and some smoking...weed?

Is this a fucking frat party?!

Well, might as well have fun; besides, Yunho is here with you anyway, so nothing will happen... right?

Your friend dragged you and Yunho to what you assumed was the kitchen and handed each of you a beer she got from the cooler.

You drink occasionally, most of the time with Yunho, but you've never really been a heavy drinker. Him, on the other hand, has a high tolerance; that's why you were surprised when he came to you drunk that night.

You were getting pretty dizzy when Yunho snatched the can of beer you were holding. It was your third, halfway done. You leaned onto his chest, and a whiff of his perfume reached your senses, causing you to giggle.

"Gosh, you smell sooo good~~." You were still giggling, looking up at him, eyes half-lidded. He took a glance at your plump lips and gulped.

Oh, you have no idea what you do to him.

He wished he could kiss you right there and then, make you feel good like you've never felt before, claim you as his, and submit himself to you, but he held back, not wanting to scare you away, not knowing you felt the same way he did.

You stared at each other, silently relaying your love for one another, hoping the other would just snap and let go.

One...

Two...

Three...

And you pulled away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. You locked the door and stared at your reflection.

Y/N, just tell him already!!

You wanted to pull your hair out of frustration, but you tried to calm down.

What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he likes someone else and just sees me as his friend? Never mind.

You composed yourself before going out and heading back to the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you heard your friend and Yunho's voice.

"What the fuck is so special about her that you'd do all that for her?" You heard your friend's voice.

"She's everything I want; she's everything to me, something you'll never be." Yunho's tone was so low, it almost scared you.

You've never been scared of Yunho once in your life; he has always been so nice and gentle towards you. He never did something that would scare you in any way, so you assumed he was like that with everyone else.

"I wonder what her reaction would be if she finds out what you're doing behind her back." She mocked Yunho.

"I fucking dare you; I won't even look your way if not for her. She considered you her "friend" that's why I've tried to put up with you, but this fucking stops now. Stop throwing yourself at me and don't show yourself in front of us ever again, or"—you heard him step forward—"I'll fucking make you."

She actually tried to throw herself at him?

Bitch.

You heard footsteps, and then there he is, looking at you with a shocked expression, eyes as round as they can be, mouth slightly agape. Then you closed the distance between you and...

You kissed him.

You're kissing him.

You're kissing Jeong Yunho.

Fucking finally.

You had to tiptoe to reach his lips. When he recovered from the shock, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, and kissed you deeper, more passionately. He's been waiting all his life for this, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.

When you ran out of air, you pulled away from him slightly.

"I have something to tell you." He spoke first, gulping, thinking about what your reaction would be. This is it.

He led you to the poolside and sat there, folding his pants so as not to get them wet, then dipped his feet in the pool. He removed his denim jacket and placed it beside him, patting it, signalling you to sit on it. You obeyed, dipping your feet as well, the cold hitting you immediately.

Then he confessed. Confessed everything he's been doing since he met you. Like pushing away other kids so you'll only play with him. Threatening other guys to never pursue you or even look your way. Fighting with other guys when they said something bad or sexual about you. And the most recent thing is having to beat up someone just so he'll get in the same university as you.

You tried to process everything, trying to take in the new information. You honestly don't know what to feel, a surge of emotions hitting you all at the same time. You never knew he was so possessive of you; well, of course you knew that he wanted all your attention on him, but not to that extent.

Were you so naive to not notice all that? How is he so cold towards everyone and only kind towards you? How much he dislikes it when someone tries to get your attention! All the subtle glances and hand gestures he does behind your back, trying to warn others to not disturb you? Were you really? You never noticed all that? Or maybe you did; you just never cared because it benefitted you. You never cared as long as he's with you. You never cared as long as you always got your way. You ignored everything for the sake of you and your relationship with each other. And maybe, just maybe, you are just as crazy as him.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

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