#I have been listening to glimmer A LOT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

velvetydream · 11 months ago

Text

꒰ :🥀 [ Like a deer in headlight ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : After finding out that Alastor indeed had ears atop his head, it was now time for round two of your game - his deer tail.

Pairing : Alastor x Reader

Word count : 3313 Words

Genre : Fluff, Suggestive(?)

Warnings ➵ Possessive and out of character Alastor,

he accidentally hurts and scares Reader

a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Reader story, > Deer in headlight < , got asked for this by a few people, so here ya'll go! Hope it's as good as the first one!♡

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

It had been a week since you had discovered Alastor's ears and he had let you touch them for the first time. Sneaking on him a few times to caress or play with them, maybe even a little tug or kiss to them when none of the others were looking. The relationship between you two also changed to something different, you couldn't exactly put a name to it, but it was more than friends, but definitely less than lovers. It confused you. Alastor confused you. Once he is nice to you, cooks you dinner, and lets you play with his ears while he writes a new script, the next time he rather distances himself from you, makes jokes here and there as if he himself didn't know what to do nor how to act.

The others also had picked up on the change between you two, Angel was teasing you about it a lot, Husker just warned you to be careful, Niffty was herself like always and Charlie was super happy about how close you two seemed to have gotten now.

So now to your new mission at hand, round two of your self-proclaimed game. Figure out if Alastor has a tail and if yes, get around to touch it! But this time it seemed to be harder than before, Alastor had his guard up a lot around you now, even when he let you play with his ears. Every time your hand wanders away from his ears down to try and peak under his coat, his hand either guides yours back up to his head or he entirely gets up and leaves, making sure you cannot find out if he has a fluffy little tail.

So now you were sitting at the bar, head resting on the counter as Husker slid your favorite drink over to you. "No look yet huh sweets? Was surprised you even got around to touching his ears without injuries." Angel now sat down beside you, softly patting your back as you let out a tired groan. "I just don't get it! I mean he saw that in the it wasn't that bad when I touched his ears! So why is it so bad now if I figure out if he has a tail too!" Pouting, you sit up a bit now taking a sip from your glass. "Maybe he doesn't have one, none of us ever saw one at least. Or maybe if he has one it's a different feeling for him than his ears?" Husker was cleaning a glass now as he spoke to you. Maybe he was right but.. you really wanted to know if he had a cute matching tail. Eyes going around the foyer now as you notice Alastor making his way up the stairs.

"Al! Wait up!" Jumping down from the barstool to follow him up the stairs, he waited for you on the stairs before walking up beside you. Eyes glancing over to him, he looked calm as always, his signature smile adorning his face, staff clutched in one hand as he walked alongside you. "How can I help you today dear?" Looking over at him now, you simply followed him to where he was going. "Are you doing a broadcast today? May I listen again?" Raising an eyebrow slightly Alastor looks over to you, nodding in agreement as he leads you to his radio tower. Over the last week, you had listened to his broadcast live two times already, which made you happy that he allowed you to join him. Opening the door for you, you enter first as you immediately take a seat at the table, Alastor had put up a second chair for you. Still, you noticed how his eyes had a glimmer of suspicion at how you suddenly wanted to listen in today.

Waiting for him to start the broadcast, your head was leaning on your hand as you watched Alastor with a smile. Suddenly an idea came into your head, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to grow on your face. Alastor was focused on his broadcast, talking about something you weren't even listening to anymore. Reaching your hand over now, your fingertips softly graze his ears, as Alastor lets out a surprised yet quiet yelp, before turning his head to you with a warning glare. Returning his gaze with a smirk now, as you stand up from your seat and slowly walk over to him, he was glaring at you now. You were so close to fucking up, but this was a chance. Reaching your hand out to the back of his coat to pull it up. Quickly the > On Air < sign switched up, as Alastor grabbed your wrist in a rather right grip. Turning his head to you now, his antlers had grown in size, a red X on his forehead, and eyes turned to dials. You definitely fucked up now.

"D̷̢͙̟̼̘̊̒̑͑͝ë̸͇͍͓̲͇͂̾̓͝a̴͙̻̞̫̞̾̑̈́͑̕r̸̖͎̼̳͍̀̉̌̉̒ ̶̜͉̦͔̒̋̌̒̕ͅw̵̛̲̭̰̼͒̑̎͝ͅh̴͚̮̬̜̔̉͗̀̅ͅa̴̭͖͍̩̣͐̀̇͂̿ţ̷̛̪̣̥͓̓̆̕͠ ̴̢͓͓͙̯̂̀͋̀͘w̵̘̣̫͚͛̋͛̊͠ͅë̴̢̡̛̥̦͇́̄̉̈ř̶͓̜̗̻̓̊̐͘ͅẽ̷̮̻͈͕͎̓̌͐̈ ̵̠̝̫̺̲̑́̍̈́̈́ÿ̴̳̩͍͎̙́̌́̿̈́o̶̰̭͎͈̣̅͛͑̌͘u̶̢̝̥̞̪͋́̒̎͝r̶ ̵͕͉̫̻̤̎̐̋̾͘į̴͕͈̮̅̎̈́̀̌ͅn̸̠̳̮̤̻͆͛̔̎͋t̸̖̻̲̘̭̐̎̂̏̕e̵̞͎͎̭̗̓̍̓̉̈́n̶̬͈͎̤͉̈́̈́̈́̇̾ţ̶̱͓̥̲̅̔͋̀̚i̶̡̲͕̤̩̒̏͐̈́͝ǒ̷̗̰̯̩̻́̔̄́n̸̡̧̞̩̥̔͆̎͆̅s̵̪̣̱͔̎͒́̽͠ͅ ̷̝͍͈̥͌͂̿̏͘ͅr̶̹͚̦͉̞̈́̈́͂̋̀i̶̡̨̛͉͇͇̾͐͊̍g̸̨̛͉͎̰̖͋̒͒̓h̴̜̫͕̪͊͊̈́͝͠ͅt̷͉̳̩̰̜͗̈́̓̽̒ ̴̨̬̱̰̠̒͂̍́̏n̸̬͍̬̣̗̿̃̅́͑ǫ̸̠̰̈̊͌͗̚͜͜w̴̧̜̺̖̓́̎͗͆ͅ?��̠̖̯̤͚̓̀̎̂͆"

Gulping once, you try to pull your arm back from his grip, which just makes him tighten it. Hissing lowly, you squeeze your eyes shut, it was slowly stinging a bit from how tight his grip was. "Al.. You're hurting me!" Alastor finally turned back to himself, letting go of your red wrist now, a print of his fingers visible as you cradled your hand against your chest. "I'm going to leave for now.." Head down as you hurriedly leave the room, closing the door behind you as you dart for your room, ignoring Angel's calls who just walked past you. Throwing yourself on your bed now, you looked at your wrist scared now. He had never used his demon form for you, there was no way of denying that he had scared you. Closing your eyes to push away the tears that were slowly building up in your eyes, as your consciousness drifts away.

"Dear, wake up." A hand on your shoulder was softly shaking you awake, lifting your head to take in your surroundings before meeting Alastor's eyes. Sitting up quickly, you scoot a bit away from him as you watch him with wide eyes. "Alastor..! What are you doing in my room?" Watching him now, as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, making sure to not make you any more uncomfortable by getting too close to you. "I'm sorry about back there, I lost it a bit, I shouldn't have." Despite smiling, you noticed that Alastor was genuinely apologizing to you. "I'm sorry, I crossed a line there, I used your trust in me listening to your broadcast live, I'm truly sorry." Laying your hand near his own carefully, letting him decide if he wants to be touched right now. Looking down, he softly takes your hand, as he presses a kiss against the red fingerprints he had left behind. His eyes were closed right now as his lips linger a second longer than they usually do. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Raising to his feet now, he gave you a soft smile, before leaving you stunned in your room.

Laying back down against your pillows, your gaze was on the ceiling as your cheeks became a soft shade of red. What was he thinking? Turning onto your side now as you hug your pillow against your chest, looking to where Alastor sat just a few minutes prior.

The next day arrives, as you make your way down the stairs to the others. Charlie was right now explaining something to Angel and Husker, hyper as always. Vaggie was simply sitting on one of the couches with a book right now, while Alastor was nowhere to be seen. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Leaning over the back of the couch now so the girl could see you as she looks over to you. "He went out rather early today, saying something about Overlords meeting and visiting a friend in Cannibal Town." Raising your eyebrows slightly at that, friend in Cannibal Town? Definitely Rosie. He probably decided to tag along with her a bit after the meeting, as she was also an Overlord. Thanking Vaggie, you go over to the other three to let Vaggie read her book in peace.

"Okay and then when Heaven agrees we could- Oh good morning!" Waving to you immediately now as Charlie noticed you coming over. Greeting them all with a smile and good morning now before Charlie starts to ramble on about her plans. It was nice seeing such a hyper and happy girl in hell, it was definitely a change to how people normally were down here.

"By the way sweets, would you mind tagging along to the city today? I wanted to go visit some clothing stores you would definitely like!" Angel laid his hand on your shoulder now as he asked you, before even thinking you agreed. It had been a while since you had last been to the part of Pentagram City where all the clothing stores were located. Besides Alastor isn't here today to try any of your attempts to see his tail nor to play with his ears. After quickly getting changed, Angel led you to the stores he was talking about. And he sure was right, you found so many good clothes to your liking in many different styles. One thing hell didn't lack was good fashion, probably thanks to Velvette from the Vees.

Leaving the store now with a lot of bags in hand, Angel decided to pull you to his favorite > cheap yet delicious < restaurant as he called it. While looking around a bit, you couldn't help but notice a certain red-haired demon walking down the streets, alongside Rosie, as their arms were hooked together, laughing. You knew they were simply good old friends, yet you couldn't do anything about this weird feeling bubbling up in your stomach. Reaching your hand out, you softly tug on Angel's shirt, head hung low. "What's it, sweets? Ya suddenly don't seem so good." His hand softly raised your chin now to look at you, noticing your pained expression. "Are ya hurt?" Taking a good look at you to make sure you weren't visibly hurt anywhere. Raising your head again, your eyes on the two other demons, Angel's eyes follow yours before letting out a sight.

"I know they're only friends but.. I feel weird seeing them I don't even know why myself!" The bag you were holding dropped to the ground, before hiding your face in your hands. "Sweets, if you ask me that sounds as if ya're jealous.." Angel's hand softly patting your head now as you raise your head, eyes meeting his. "But.. That would mean.. And he would never reciprocate.." Tears were building up in your eyes, before you knew it Angel pulled you into a comforting hug, softly patting your head. "It's going to be okay sweets." Staying there for a good minute or two, before you calmed down again. What you didn't see was a certain dial eyes watching you, as Angel had his arms around you and your body against his chest.

Deciding to head back to the hotel for now, Angel said he would take you to the restaurant another time. Back at the hotel you for now decided to head back to your room for a little rest. The shopping bag is thrown onto a chair before flopping down on your bed. A sigh leaves your lips. The last few days really weren't the best for you and were slowly wearing you down.

"Say dear, I thought we had a deal of you not touching others~" A radio static voice suddenly sounded through your room, sitting up you looked around frantically, eyes stopping on a dark corner of your room. Red eyes watching you, a shadow figure beside them grinning at you. Before you could know it, your body was pressed to the bed with Alastor on top of you. "W-What do you mean!? Angel was simply comforting me! Besides you were also all over Rosie!" Thrashing around now, as you try to push Alastor off of you, but he was simply too strong for you. "Oh, so you're jealous sweetheart? Was that payback then?" Alastor head was lowered as he whispered those words into your ear making your eyes grow wide. "He was comforting me because I was crying! Which I by the way was because of you!" Staring into your eyes now, Alastor was at a loss for words. You were crying? Because of him on top of that? Before he knew it, he watched your eyes fill with tears again daring to flow over. Now he had fucked up this time.. Again.

"D-Don't cry! Dearest I'm sorry." Scooting off of you now, he sits beside you not really knowing what to do, he never had to deal with someone besides Niffty crying. And Charlie, but that was a different story. Your hands rubbing over your eyes now, trying to get rid of the tears. Before you knew it, the culprit of your tears grabbed your hand, leading it to his head. Alastor wasn't great with words to comfort you, but this was his way of trying to comfort you after screwing up, which you deeply appreciated. Looking up at him now, eyes red from crying, as your hand starts to softly rub over his ears. "I meet up with Rosie to ask her for advice on what to get you as an apology for last time." Pulling out a little box from his coat now, he hands it to you. Sitting up, you take the red box from his hands, opening it slowly. Inside was a gold necklace with a red pendant in a tear shape. "It's beautiful.." You were at a loss for words right now, you didn't think he would get you something like this as an apology. "Let me put it on you dearest, turn around." Moving yourself now that your back is to him, you softly move any hair out of the way so he can put the necklace around your neck. Hand reaching down as you take the pendant between your fingers. "Thank-" Your words were interrupted by a soft kiss being pressed to your neck, but as you turned around, Alastor was gone, and only caught a glimpse of his shadow disappearing. Hand reaching to the place you had felt him kiss. Did you only imagine that? No, he definitely kissed your neck.

The next day you wanted to ask Alastor about it, but he was nowhere to be seen, as if he was avoiding you, which made you a little bit sad. Did he regret it?

Till now you also were not able to accomplish your victory in this little game. Making yourself question if you were ever going to figure out if he had a little deer tail. Turning around now, you caught a glimpse of red hair disappearing, making you dart right after him. So he truly was avoiding you! Before he could close his door, you put your foot between the door and the doorframe. "Open the door, I won't go away!" It took almost a whole minute for him to open the door, entering the room, the door is closed behind you. Crossing your arms in front of your chest now, you turn around to face Alastor now. "Are you avoiding me?" Static radio error. "Of course not dear! Why should I?" He was obviously more than nervous to be talking to you right now. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because since yesterday you've been running away from me and not shown your face once?" Looking at him skeptically now, he tried to look composed as always with his smile, but you noticed how his smile was slightly strained and his hand clenched just a bit tighter around his staff. "If this is about the kiss and you regret it just say it please, I won't be mad at you." Your eyes were avoiding his now. Oh if only you knew it was the complete opposite.

"Listen dear, it's not that.. It's.. How do I say, rather the opposite? I have been feeling rather drawn to you, wanting to get closer but.. I don't quite know how to handle these emotions." For once Alastor looked nervous, something you had never truly seen on him, he seemed so unsure. Holding out your hand, waiting for him to perhaps take it, which he did. Eyes locked on your hands, as he was softly playing with your fingers, slowly linking them together. "Listen it's okay, take as much time as you need to figure this out okay?" A soft smile was on your lips now, trying to reassure and calm him, but it had quite the opposite effect on him.

"May I kiss you?" Blurting those words out without even thinking about it, both of you were staring at each other with blown eyes now. You question yourself if you heard correctly and Alastor questions his sanity by asking you this, was he completely going crazy now? "If you want to, I allow you to do anything you want, I trust you." Now this surprised him, he indeed wanted to try this but.. he had never kissed anyone before. Not while alive, and certainly not while dead. Slowly his hand lays on your cheek as he pulls you closer to him, angling your head so you are looking at him. Your hands softly grab onto the front of his coat, eyes closed to give him full control. Alastor could either take his time or pull away entirely, it was all up to him, you let him go at his own pace.

And before he knew it, he was leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. It felt different than he had imagined, it felt warm and comforting. It was a simple soft peck, nothing too spectacular, but for both of you, it was something special. When he pulled away again and you looked up into his eyes, you noticed movement behind him, your eyes lowering and noticing something moving under the backside of his coat. Eyes glancing with interest now, Alastor's eyes following yours to what you were looking at, a sigh leaving his lips. Before you knew it, Alastor was shrugging his coat off, his shadow hanging it somewhere in the room. And there it was, a fluffy deer tail, that was right now softly swishing from side to side, it was adorable. Alastor was a sight right now. His ears were pointed towards you, a blush over the bridge of his nose while his tail swished from side to side.

Reaching out your hand to touch his tail with sparking eyes, his hand stops yours as he watches you. "Once. It's different than my ears, one pat and that's it darling." Nodding in agreement, he turns around a bit as your hand softly pats over his tail once. It was soft just like his ears. Looking up with a smile now, his head was turned to the front, but his ears were turned to your direction, which looked super adorable. "Well since I was only allowed to pet your tail once, I would like to pat your ears again!" Smiling up at him innocently now, he exactly knew how this would end.

And he was correct, he was now lying on his bed with you, his head on your stomach as you were contentedly playing with his ears. Even though it would probably take a while till both of you knew how to call this relationship, you were more than happy that your one hand was busy patting his ears, and the other one was softly held by the red-haired man. You could get used to this.

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Taglist :

@mysticwitchcraftco @biromanticboba @yellowelectroslime

#x reader #imagines #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #imagine #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you

5K notes · View notes

rafey-baby · 3 months ago

Text

dealer!rafe knows just the right way to apologize after coming home late once again…

18+ mdni!

c/w: kinda free use, p-in-v, angsty undertones?

wc: 820

part two

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s past midnight when she stirs awake in their unlit bedroom to Rafe’s calloused hands roaming along the skin of her waist as he slumps down on top of her, groaning when he can feel her delicate presence underneath him, at last.

It’s unbearably thermal, which is why she’s merely wearing a flimsy top as she lays on her stomach under the covers; softened bones feeling mellow under the weight of his heavy limbs profoundly pressing her into the mattress.

She tries to move around some, albeit unsuccessfully as his much bigger body cages her between the rumpled sheets and his strong abdomen and she lets out a displeased huff because he was supposed to be back hours ago.

“Rafe? Where were you? Waited for you…” she sounds almost upset with her mind hazy; dreamy sleep still lingering.

“Just had to take care of some shit, m’sorry,” he murmurs, guilt weighing him down at the prospect of making her sad. It’s something he seems to be doing a lot these days.

“Missed my girl all day,” he burrows his face in her hair, inhaling the dulcet coconut scent of her favorite conditioner still present in the damp strands.

She sighs.

“Thought you said you’d come home early tonight and we’d watch a movie…” she complains, voice still coated in the glimmer of the dreamland she’s been forced to wake up from.

“I know, baby. But listen, you’ll get me all to yourself tomorrow, yeah?” His honeyed words soothe her some but she’s still discontented. He always does this. Promises something and then gets her hopes up thinking he’s finally going to keep his word but every time some shit comes up.

“Was worried something happened,” she persists, a frown obscuring her face as he presses a sugary kiss on her cheek in apology. That’s the other thing, it’s not exactly the fact that he works too much that concerns her, but the nature of his business. It’s dangerous.

After all, he doesn’t keep a gun tucked in the waistband of his pants whenever he leaves the house for nothing. And even if she knows he can take care of himself, she can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over her whenever he opens the front door unscathed.

“Don’t have to worry about me, you know that,” he scolds, peeling the covers off her frame and tugging her closer by a grip on her hips.

“But Rafe—” she whines.

“But nothing," he interrupts her as he tugs down the zipper of his pants. "Look so sweet when you sleep, gets me so hard, you know?” He mumbles before she feels him poking at her entrance.

“I’m still mad at you,” she complains with a pout. However, she doesn’t exactly do anything to stop him. Craves to feel close to him in any and every capacity he lets her, even if it can be exhausting to love him as much as she does.

“Shh, let me say hi to my pussy, hm?” Love it when you’re not wearing any panties to bed, make it so easy for me to just…” he trails off, finishing the sentence with a nudge of his hips against her; tucking his cock into the warmth of her with his fingers sinking into the flesh of her ass.

“Ray…” she whimpers; the odd intimacy they seem to share in the quietest hours of the day always comforting her in some peculiar way.

“Let me make it up to you, okay?” It’s more of a demand than a request and she has no choice but to let him do as he pleases when he pushes in deeper; prodding at the spongy spot inside her and making her cry out.

“Yeah? That feel nice?” He pants in her ear; shoving her face more into the fluffy pillows with each thrust of his hips against her.

“Promise, I’ll take the day off tomorrow and we can do whatever you want, can watch all the movies and make some food and could run you a bath, hm?” He rasps in her ear as her breathy moans get louder by every drag of his cock in and out of her gummy walls.

His rough hands slide between the mattress and her body, groping at the flesh of her tits as he’s letting out guttural groans from the back of his throat; thrusts growing sloppy in their search for a release in the all too forgiving girl who wishes Rafe was always like this.

The way he’s talking to her right now initiates false hope in her and she thinks that maybe one day she’ll be able to actually trust his empty promises.

However, she knows that the minute he gets a call regarding a missing shipment or a late payment, he’s going to have to leave to make sure everything’s in order; returning after nightfall the following day because that’s what always happens.

2K notes · View notes

nhlclover · 2 months ago

Text

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #new jersey devils #vancouver canucks #`✦ˑ ✒️ 𓂃⊹ my works #qh43 #jh86

1K notes · View notes

frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months ago

Text

♡ ｓｗｅｅｔｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ ♡

♡ Pairing: tattoo artist!ex boyfriend!chan x chubby!fem!tattoo artist!reader, best friend!stray kids

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff

♡ Summary: After a year abroad spent perfecting your craft, you decide to return to the shop that you started at to reconnect with the people you love but how will your friends react to your sudden return? And how will your ex feel when he finds out your back in town attempting to reclaim your place in his shop and maybe even his heart?

♡ Word Count: 5.8k-ish

♡ Warnings: chan's really down bad for you and the littlest bit posessive, strong language, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, male masturbation, creampie, oral sex (m&f receiving), overstimulation, a lil nipple play, orgasm control if you squint, pet names (beautiful, pretty, baby), a lil hair pulling, and that's about it.

♡ A/N: So somehow I've written myself into a series of sorts all taking place in one tattoo shop. Seungmin's here if you'd like to read it. I'll for sure be doing one for all of the boys because why not? This one's a lot more angsty than the other one but I had a nice time writing something different so, as always, I hope you enjoy it, babes.

You stand with your back to the night, casting your starry eyed gaze upon the soft white glow of the neon sign that hangs overhead. It reads Social Path Tattoos & Piercings. This place isn’t new to you, even if the nerves rattling through your system might imply otherwise.

You’re more than familiar with it. You used to spend every waking moment in this place. Even slept here a couple times when you were a bit too tipsy to drive. And coming back to it after a year overseas is surreal. You dreamed of this a thousand times before finally biting the bullet and hopping on the next plane back here. Back home.

You made it. Through the chaos of the airport, racing through crowds to make it to the Uber you may have called a little too soon. Through an hour of bumper to bumper traffic, listening to your driver give you dating advice you definitely didn’t ask for. Through a hell of a check in process at the hotel and lugging half your life up to the 8th floor of the lavish building.

You survived all of that to make it to this moment and you can’t even bring yourself to step inside. What if you aren’t welcome? What if the men you once called “family” consider you nothing more than a stranger now? It’s only been a year but so much has happened. There were so many tears the day you left, so much sadness—so much anger. Maybe you should’ve stayed away.

“Next time you have to get one. I’m telling you, it didn’t hurt at all” a tall girl with a septum piercing tells her friend as they exit the shop.

The shorter girl by her side stares at the fresh tattoo on her friend’s arm with equal amounts admiration and fear. “Liar. It’s needles stabbing through your skin. There’s no way that doesn’t hurt.”

Noticing the tattoos peeking out of your strappy crop top, the taller girl turns to you for some back up. “Tell her it doesn’t hurt,” she pouts.

In all your years as a tattoo artist you’ve never once lied to a client but you aren’t on the clock right now and can’t bring yourself to kill whatever glimmer of hope this girl might have of winning her friend over.

“It doesn’t hurt” you lie to her friend, knowing damn well that, while it isn’t torture, it’s far from painless. “It might sting a little but you’re tough. I can tell. You’ve got it.”

“Thank you” the tall girl smiles, holding the door open for you. “Headed in?”

“Uh…” you hesitate, chewing at your inner lip. There’s so much weight to that question. A weight she can’t possibly fathom. Swallowing your pride, you give her a smile and a nod, slipping into the shop.

“Have a good night!” the girls say kindly, going about their night and abandoning you in the doorway.

Breathing in deep, you take a few more steps before stopping to take in the scene around you. The shop is as alive as it's ever been, the lobby buzzing with customers busy picking out jewelry or waiting their turn to be seen.

The front desk is still straight ahead, marked by a small statue of an orange cat named Cheese. It’d been Minho’s idea to get it when you all went on a drunken flea market adventure and none of you were sober enough to shoot him down. The walls are still adorned with elegant, hand painted art courtesy of Hyunjin, the best photo realistic artist in the shop. The city even.

The checkered floors are the same, an expertly polished black and white patchwork to match the charcoal color of the walls. Even the couch you bought in from your apartment is still positioned in the corner where a bunch of college kids are currently lounging. A lot has happened on that couch. A lot more than they know. God you hope the boys have cleaned it.

Everything is just as you remember it but the energy’s something new entirely. It’s the contradiction of finding familiarity on an alien planet.

“You need something, babe?” the bubbly girl at the counter asks, waving you over. This is new. They used to force you to work the front desk on weekends, the guys alternating weekdays based on whoever lost at rock, paper, scissors. But now there’s a new face. She seems sweet though so you make your way over to her. At least one person’s happy to see you.

“Yes but no but yes? I guess” you ramble, indecision painted all over your face. Observing your appearance she doesn’t take you as the kind of girl to be hesitant about what she came to a place like this for but she comforts you nonetheless.

“It’s okay” she says, reaching out a sympathetic hand to touch yours, “Everyone gets nervous sometimes. I mean, I work here and even I almost freaked when I got my bellybutton pierced but it’s okay. You know what you wanna get done?”

“Actually, I’m not here to get anything done. I used to work here a long time ago and I just thought I’d drop by and see…”

“You’re fucking joking” a voice from your past interrupts. Before you even turn to look, you know exactly who that voice belongs to. Seungmin.

“It can’t be. I’m hallucinating” he gasps, clutching his chest. “A ghost? In our shop?”

You roll your eyes at the dramatics. You’ve missed them. “A ghost? Am I dead now? Is that what you consider me?” you sniffle, pretending to cry.

“Oh, my god. Stop it. Come here” he says, smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen. He throws his arms around you, squeezing you into the tightest hug. In an instant it melts away your worries of not being welcome here. This is the warmest you’ve ever seen Seungmin greet someone and you feel special for being the recipient.

“Squeeze me any tighter and I will be a ghost” you tease, pulling back the slightest bit to get some air. As you do you notice something new on his face. “When did this happen?” You marvel at the shiny silver jewelry decorating his eyebrow.

“You hate it don’t you?”

“Ssh, I don’t hate it. I like it. It’s cute.”

Seungmin blushes, rubbing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide it. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the girl at the counter staring daggers through Seungmin’s soul. It’s easy to see that there’s something going on here and she doesn’t like him blushing over other girls.

“Ooh, someone’s got a girlfriend” you sing and the counter girl giggles. You can’t help but adore how sweet it is when Seungmin lights up at the sound of her laughter. But you can’t deny that it drags up bittersweet memories of when that was you and...

“Follow me. Everyone’s here tonight. I know they’ll be happy to see you” Seungmin says, ready to escape the lobby before his cheeks overheat from all the blushing. It’ll kill his reputation if the guys find out. He leads the way to the back, as if you need the guidance. You remember exactly where you’re going.

“So…” he sighs, feeling the weight of your return for the first time, “How was Japan?”

“Oh, it was wonderful. It’s beautiful over there and I learned so much from my apprenticeship. I was super nervous at first, you know? But everyone at the shop was…” You stop yourself short, fearful that your fond memories of your time there might come off as bragging. You may have had fun in Osaka but it still paled in comparison to the place you come from.

Seungmin picks up on it, glancing back at you to give you a comforting smile, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m happy…we’re happy that you did what you needed to do. It’s nice to have you back though. You are back, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. That depends on what he says. You know how he was when I left.”

Seungmin says nothing, only nods. He knows oh too well how his best friend was when you left. And those months after spent stewing in a bitterness that only thinly masked the pain of losing you. He watched it play out until the sting had faded but only enough to pretend that things were okay when they weren’t.

“Yongbok, what’d you do with my kit?” Changbin shouts across the room, tearing his station apart in search of his prized possession.

A few stations away a busy Felix rises from his chair, directing his client towards one of the full body mirrors in the corner. “Why are you yelling at me? I don’t have your kit!”

“I’m not talking to you! I’m talking to him!” Changbin points a finger at a shocked I.N who’s been innocently prepping for the next person in line.

“You called my name!” Felix snaps and it dawns on Changbin that he’s been calling the wrong person.

Changbin fights himself not to laugh at his own mistake. He puts his head down, discovering his kit tucked away under his table. “Oh, I did, didn’t I?”

I.N querks an eyebrow at him, arms folded across his chest, “Why do you always do that? You can never call me the right name.”

“Because he’s old” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath, still loud enough for the others to hear. Changbin picks up a towel to throw at him but hesitates when he notices Hyunjin’s in the middle of a tattoo.

“It’s okay, old man,” Han teases, patting his friend on the back. Hyunjin might be busy but Han on the other hand is free enough to invade his personal space so it’s a slap on the back of the head for him.

“Can you guys be adults for a second? We have a guest” Seungmin announces but you hardly mind. This was what you missed while you were gone. No matter how kind the artists at the other shop were to you, they could never replace your boys. Even in their most chaotic moments there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Seungmin’s voice draws all of the attention in the room to you and everyone falls silent. If there’s anything else they needed to say the thoughts have evaporated in your presence. It’s quiet for long enough that you begin to worry. Thoughts creep back in that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Seungmin may have been happy to see you but the others?

Just as you begin to doubt yourself, the room erupts in cheers and you find yourself at the center of the world’s biggest group hug. Their joy overflows as arms wrap around you, one set swapping out for another and then another swiftly enough to leave you dizzy.

“You’re back! Why didn’t you tell us? Ugh, I missed you” Han says, pinching your cheek in an act of cute aggression he simply cannot control.

Felix hugs you so that his cheek is flush against yours, “You’re staying, right? You have to stay.”

This is nothing that you expected it to be. You’re flooded with enough joy to make a girl cry and you can already feel the tears welling up, you’re right on the verge of it. A year of wondering if you’d made a mistake. A year of worrying that the people you loved hated you for your decision. All of those doubts are shedded in the arms of these seven men.

“What’s all this noise?” Chan groans, his eyes barely open as he steps out of his office, “I was trying to sleep for once.”

“Sleep? Shouldn’t you be working?” I.N says, never one to miss an opportunity to be a smartass.

Chan lets out a yawn, stretching those muscular arms you very vividly recall drooling over and on. “You’ll pay for that, kid. But seriously, what are you guys doing out here?”

The guys step away, gesturing towards you and his arms drop to his sides. Suddenly he’s reminiscent of a balloon at the end of a party, melancholy and deflated. You watch the light in his eyes die in real time and it makes you sick to your stomach to be looked at this way. It wasn’t always like this. In the old days he’d have you in his arms right now, showering you in kisses. But these aren’t the old days, no matter how badly you wish it were.

He starts in your direction, one slow, agonizing step of his black boots after another. He stops a few feet away from you as if some invisible barrier is keeping him at bay. His expression is hard as stone as he studies you like you’re a creature he’s never seen before.

“Hi” you manage in spite of the sudden lack of moisture in your mouth. You get the sense that you’re on trial for some horrible crime and Chan, the judge that he is, has no intention of offering you leniency.

“It’s really nice to see you. You look…good.” There’s such a softness in the way that you are with him. The wisp of a smile on your lips, the gentleness in your posture. You’re soft as a marshmallow for this man and the fire of his anger’s enough to burn you to a crisp.

“Chan, don’t be…” Changbin tries to reach his best friend but Chan snatches away, sparing you one last glance before disappearing into his office.

The door slams hard enough that the hinges creak and the wood seems to splinter. The others? They don’t hate you. In fact, they adore you with all of their hearts. But him? You’re positive he does and now you want to cry again but for a different reason altogether.

Han pats you on the back, bringing you close to him, “I’m about to work on my sketch for my next client. Will you help me?”

“I don’t know, Jisung. It might be better if I go.”

“What? No! You just got here!” Hyunjin pouts, his bottom lip quivering. “You’re really gonna walk out and leave some poor soul at the hands of his drawing skills?”

Hyunjin’s attempt at making you laugh works like a charm and a giggle escapes you.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” he asks, poking his lip out even more.

“Yes, that means I’ll stay.”

“Yay!” Han cheers, grabbing onto your hand and dragging you over to his station.

He hops right into it, spilling all of the details about the tattoo and asking your opinion on it. At first you struggle to focus on helping him. As much as you want to, you can’t shake the mental picture of how Chan looked at you. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t need to. He said everything he felt without so much as parting his lips.

Periodically you find your gaze drifting over to his office door, the pit of your stomach twisted with the anxiety over his next appearance. But the door never opens, not even a crack, and before you know it you’re fully engrossed in helping Han work on his sketch. Your styles are different but he admires you as an artist and soaks in every drop of your input like a sponge.

As the night rolls on you find yourself at one station after another, helping the guys with what you can. You slip right back into their group dynamic with ease. It’s as if your spot was always here waiting for you to hop right back in. It’s like you never left. The minutes melt into hours and you find yourself lingering behind with them far beyond closing time.

“We’re all going out for drinks. You’re coming right?” Felix asks as you group filters out of the shop, filling up the space on the sidewalk.

“Yes, she’s coming. She doesn’t have a choice!” I.N answers before you have a chance to. The boys have already begun moving towards their destination and he drapes an arm around your shoulder to make sure you keep up.

“I’m coming” you laugh, tapping him on the back of the hand, “I do need to run back to my hotel and change first though.”

Changbin looks you up and down, finding not a single thing wrong with your current fit. “Why? You look beautiful.”

As flattered as you are, there’s no way you’re going out on the town in a crop top and a pair of sweatpants. You might not be planning on switching into a ballgown but a change of wardrobe is definitely in order.

You bat your eyelashes, grateful for the compliment, “Sweet but no. I still need to change. Just text me where you’re going.” Reaching into your pocket for your phone, you realize you must’ve left it behind. “Shit, I left my phone.”

They all pause, prepared to turn back and help you find it. “We’ll just go back and grab it” Han insists but you shut him down, not wanting to delay their plans.

“It’s okay, really. I’ll just grab my phone and I’ll meet you there in a few.”

I.N opens his mouth to protest but you throw a hand over it before he can speak. “I’m not a baby, you guys. I got it. I’ll be quick, I swear.”

Shared glances between the seven of them play out a silent conversation that you aren’t in on. They want to look after you, especially after you being so far away for so long, but you’re stubborn and they know you won’t give in no matter what they say.

“Fine” Seungmin relents, “If you aren’t there in an hour we’re coming to get you!”

“Yeah and we’ll raid your hotel room, eat up all your snacks…” Han throws in for extra impact.

“I’ll be there. I swear! One hour!” you promise, skipping back towards the shop.

“An hour!” Hyunjin shouts after you, waiting until you’re safely back inside to continue on.

Inside the shop the lights are turned down, not completely off but dimly lit enough that you almost trip on your way to the back. You frantically search every station—in things, under them—but your phone’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck, where is it?” you shout in frustration.

Standing in the middle of the floor, you take a deep breath and contemplate where it could be. You were at Han’s station first and then you went to sit with Felix for a bit but Changbin called you to the front for something. That’s it. Maybe it’s there.

You turn to jog back up front when a sound from behind you stops you in your tracks. It’s the sound you’ve been dreading all night. The slow creaking of the door to Chan’s office. Your heart almost stops dead in your chest. You’re frozen, stuck right where you are. You can’t even bring yourself to turn around when you feel the weight of something on your shoulder.

“Looking for this?” he asks, tapping you on the shoulder with your phone.

Hesitantly, you take it, turning to find yourself face to face with the man you used to call yours. Chan seems less angry now but his nose is red and his eyes are puffy. You can tell from the gloss dancing on the surface of them that he’s been crying.

“Thanks. Sorry for leaving it behind, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you here?” He asks the question so bluntly that you’re stunned, unsure how to respond.

“I don’t understand—”

“Why’d you come back? I thought you were confident in your decision. I thought that was what you needed. But now you’re standing in front of me so why?”

“Well, I…” you sigh, giving yourself a moment to process your own feelings, “I missed it. The shop and the guys and you.”

Chan’s jaw tightens, your profession placing him right back on edge. “You miss me?” he scoffs, “That’s not the truth. Try again.”

“But it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“It isn’t!” he finally snaps, raising his voice at you in a way he never has before. “If you missed me then you would’ve called. You would’ve texted me. Do you know what that felt like for me? I haven’t heard your voice in a year.”

“Because you told me you didn’t wanna hear it!” you shout back, the tears you’ve been suppressing all night pouring from your eyes. It hurts to cry this hard. The tightness in your chest is unbearable. You’ve never cried this hard in front of someone before, not even him, but there’s no holding it back. “I blew up your phone all day every day for weeks begging you to talk to me. I might’ve left here but I didn’t leave you. You left me. You broke my heart and I’ve cried for you every night since. So hate me all you want but I won’t torture myself for you anymore.”

Four hours. That’s how long he spent pacing in that office spiraling down an emotional hole. He thought he knew what he’d say to you if he had the chance. All of those words left unsaid would come tumbling out. Those feelings of abandonment. That pain. He’d have the words to put to them that’d make you understand what you did to him.

Watching the tears stream down your face, none of those words matter now. He’d worked you up in his mind to be a villain, totally opposite to the girl he fell in love with. Blinded by his own bitterness he couldn’t see that you were still her. You are still her. And now he can’t ignore it.

Tucking an arm around your waist he pulls you in, your face pressed into his chest. His fingers find your hair, stroking the soft strands. It feels like it’s been an eternity since he’s touched you. His body’s flush with the sort of warmth flowers must feel on a sunny day.

Chan leans in, his plush lips skimming your ear, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just had so much anger when you left and I didn’t know how to deal with it but I don’t hate you. I’m so sorry.”

The tremors of his voice give you goosebumps. He sounds as broken as you do and just as lost. You shake your head, pulling back from him. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come” you say, wiping the tears away. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll stay away this time. I promise.”

You walk off, your arms wet with tears that won’t stop falling. Your chest’s thumping and the shop seems darker than it was when you came in. Footsteps follow behind you lightly enough for you to question if it’s all in your head. If there’s something you’ve left behind then let it stay that way. You won’t turn back. Not this time.

It’s a silly thing to do but you’re doing it.

Draped across your bed in a towel, you sip from a bottle of red wine and cycle through a heartbreak playlist that gives your lonely heart the company it desperately needs. The tears stopped a half hour ago, the last of them being shed in the shower. Your eyelids feel raw from all of the salty waterworks and your body’s exhausted.

A few feet away your phone sits on a table, lit up with text messages from the guys. After hearing what happened a few of them insisted on coming to get you but you can’t crawl your way towards the closet for the life of you. If not for their persistence you’d be content to rot in your hotel room for the rest of the night, drowning your sorrows in this bottle of overpriced wine.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Nobody’s home” you groan, face down in the blanket. There’s a pause. Some shuffling on the other side of the door. Maybe it worked?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Pushing yourself up from the bed, you toss the bottle aside and drag yourself over to the door. “Can’t a girl rot in peace?” you pout, swinging the door open.

“If this is what you look like when you rot then rot all you want” Chan says, flashing you a smile so genuine you’re positive you must be dreaming.

You stick your head out into the hallway, looking around for the other guys but there’s no one else in sight. “Chan, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Honestly? I’m afraid you’re gonna leave again before I can beg you not to.”

With not a drop more of explanation he pushes his way into the room, kissing you like his life depends on it. His tongue glides over yours, savoring the taste of you mixed with the lingering sweetness of the wine. The kiss is so consuming you can barely get a breath in but air is vastly overrated when a kiss is laced with this much passion. There’s a year of longing inside of him and he pours it into you boundlessly.

Tucking his hands behind your legs, he lifts you up, fingers delighting in the softness of your thighs. He missed this. The tenderness of your kiss. The plushness of your figure. The light, fruity scent of your perfume filling his lungs as he plants open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling at your smooth skin.

His lips never break from you as he lays you across the bed, tearing your towel away like it’s nothing. His palms massage the fullness of your figure, riding every curve to cup one of your breasts. Your body tenses in response to his touch, moisture pooling between your thighs.

Chan drags his tongue across your cleavage, his stiffening bulge pressed right against your core. “Tell me you’ll stay this time” he begs, lovesick eyes flicking up to you, “Don’t leave me again.”

Brushing his hair out of his face, your fingers skate along that immaculate bone structure of his, bringing him up for another breathless kiss. His thumb brushes your nipple, making small circles on the tip of the bud, and you shudder.

“I’ll stay” you moan, your thighs growing slick with your arousal.

He pinches the bud, grinding his clothed cock against you harder this time, “Promise me.”

Chan sounds so needy and it only worsens how badly you ache for him. You guide him back up to his feet, slipping to the edge of the bed to kiss his cock through his pants. You press your palm to it, riding the outline of the print while your other hand dips under his shirt to feel his abs contract with every touch. He tugs his shirt up over his head, giving your hands free reign of that beautiful chest.

You smile up at him, pulling down the band of his pants and his boxers at once. His cock springs free, thick, throbbing, and as deliciously veined as you remember. You stick your tongue out, licking up the arousal dripping from the tip. You smile up at him, your tongue retreating to say the words he wants to hear. “I promise.”

You press your lips to the tip, taking it in further this time. You swirl your tongue around it, enjoying the satisfied groans that fill the room the more you take him between your fluffy cheeks. Your mouth is so warm and wet around his cock. It’s like heaven.

You relax your throat, taking him as far back as you can, before pulling back the slightest bit to wrap your fingers around the base. You rock your head back and forth, wrist rotating as you pump his shaft. You can feel every little twitch of his cock, taste the precum dripping on the back of your tongue, and it has you soaking through the blanket beneath you.

Chan reaches down to play with your hair, utterly incapable of taking his eyes off of you. You look too pretty drooling around his cock for him to miss a minute of it. He wants to be like this forever with you. Not only this but everything. He wants to be with you. Near you. Inside of you. Anything you’ll bless him with. He just wants you right here, looking at him with all of the love and admiration you do with his cock throbbing down your throat.

“My beautiful girl” he coos, tilting his hips in to push into you a little more. “All mine, yeah?”

With your mouth stuffed so full of him he hardly expects you to answer. Your hum of agreement vibrating down his length is more than enough to let him know that you agree. You’re his again. You’ve wanted to be for so long and at last you are.

That knowledge is almost as intoxicating as feeling him on your tongue. Chan tangles his fingers in your hair, bringing your head back far enough that the head of his cock only ghosts your glossy lips. He plants a kiss on your forehead, staring so deeply into your eyes that you almost lose yourself.

“Bend over for me, baby” he whispers and you nod your head, swinging around in the cutest way to assume the position.

You crawl onto your knees for him, back arched and ass in the air. “Is this good, Channie?”

If only you could see yourself from this angle. Your body’s beyond perfection and your pussy’s glistening like diamonds. He can’t stop himself from tasting you, a hand palming your ass as his tongue darts into your core.

“So fucking good” he hums, his face buried between your thighs. His tongue dips up, dragging between your folds and teasing your clit. Your body trembles and he grabs your hips, lapping at your clit until his face is soaked in your juices.

“Channie, please, ah. Too much” you whine but your body tells a different story. You’re soaking wet, your walls so needy you’re clenching around air. Your hips arch and swirl, almost riding his face.

Chan’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, his free hand between his legs to stroke his cock as he devours you. His tongue pushes back into your core and your walls flutter around it, leaking like a faucet. His cock throbs in his palm, drenched in a mixture of your saliva and his arousal. He feels so out of it, so completely absorbed in you, that he’s racing towards his high faster than he’s ready for.

Dragging his tongue out, he steadies himself, gripping your hips to bring himself right to your entrance. You wiggle your ass excitedly and he laughs, licking you from his lips. “You want it that badly, baby?”

You look back, serving a pouty face that’d bring even the toughest man to his knees. “I just wanna see how much you’ve really missed me.”

“I’ve missed you so much” he moans, sinking into you with one motion. You both nearly collapse at the dizzying pleasure of it. Your walls cling to his length as he bottoms out, filling you up perfectly. “I was going crazy without you” he confesses, pulling out and slamming into you even harder. Your body jiggles, the softness of your hips borderline sinful.

You cry out, biting your tongue to avoid a noise complaint but the moans still spill out. Those broken, beautiful moans. Every stroke rides your sweet spot, pushing you further towards absolute ruin.

“I’ve needed you so badly” he coos, savoring the wet snapping sound of your body colliding with his. “Just like I need you right now. Fuck, I don’t know how I lived without this pussy.”

Throwing his head back, he settles his knees at the very edge of the bed, bouncing you in his lap. He fucks into you faster, your juices splashing up and decorating his abs. Blindly you reach for a pillow, dragging it over to bury your face in because you know it’s coming. You feel it and so can he. Your legs are shaking, you can barely keep your body straight, and your walls are spasming too wildly to spare his sanity.

You’re almost there, knocking right at the door of you high. But instead of keeping his pace, he slows down, every movement careful and purposeful. He angles himself against your sweet spot, making sure he doesn’t miss it once, and teases you to the point that your body’s almost crying to cum. “You ready to cum for me, hmm? You want it?”

“Mmhmm” you whine, eyes watering, “Let me cum, Channie, please.”

How can he deny the request of such a pretty girl? Picking up speed again, he thrusts into you, and your orgasm rips through you like an electric current. You bite down on the pillow, your brain going fuzzy as you cream all over his cock, moaning his name in broken syllables.

Chan has the glimmer of a thought to pull out but he’s too addicted to the feeling of you clenching to follow through on it. It’s too late anyway, his heart’s already skipping beats, his seed spilling out into the warmth of your core. His movements grow sloppier, both of your bodies getting weaker by the minute, but he doesn’t stop until your knees give out.

You summon the energy to roll onto your back, giving that poor little pillow a break, and Chan collapses on top of you, his head resting on your soft belly. “You know” he pants, massaging your love handles, “This music is really sad.”

You giggle, your awareness of any music playing having faded away the moment his lips found yours. “You’re right, it is kinda sad, but I was sad.”

“Was?” he asks, propping his chin up on your belly, “You’re not sad anymore, right?”

“Hmm, no, I don’t think I am.”

“And you really meant what you said? That wasn’t just sex talk?”

You need a second to think about what it was that you said. You’re sure you said a few things when he was inside of you. All of which you meant, of course. “Oh, that I’ll stay? Yeah, I meant that. As long as that’s what you really want.”

Chan climbs on top of you, strong arms caging you in as he hovers above you. “More than anything.”

He kisses you and you close your eyes, letting yourself fade into him. You don’t regret going off to find yourself, it was something you needed to do, but there’s no doubt in your mind that this is where your heart is. With the shop. With the boys. And, more than anything else, with Chan.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #bang chan x female reader #chubby reader #plus size reader

950 notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 4 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!🍰

Just a little collection of ideas that I decided to write down as I sit alone in a cafe, enjoying a slice of delicious cheesecake. These probably won't go anywhere but I still had the desire to share them.

various! yandere x gn! reader.

YANDERE KINICH ! - Genshin Impact.

You've been in a relationship with Kinich for a few months now. By all accounts, he is the sweetest boyfriend - kind, caring, attentive and not to mention sweet.

It doesn't matter that his grip is a little bit too tight when he hugs you, it doesn't matter that you hardly talk to anyone other than him anymore... Kinich can take care of you just fine.

He can prove it.

MORE YANDERE KINICH ! - nsfw ~

After months and months of being struck by Cupid's arrow, Kinich finally decides to make a move and claim you as his own in more ways than one.

Taking a walk with him alone on a moonless night should have been relaxing but never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined that Kinich would pin you to the ground, his chest heaving with anxiety and want as he swallows your wailing and crying with a barrage of kisses.

To be frank, he has no idea what he is doing. But he decides to be selfish and listen to his more carnal instincts for once. Besides, how can he stop now right where he has you? All cute and helpless beneath him, begging him for mercy...

AEMOND TARGARYEN ! - House of the Dragon.

Your father is a merchant who recently struck gold and has become one of the most respected men in the capital. The royal family is having a gathering in the Red Keep and your family received an invitation.

When the moon is high, the candles shine bright and the music reaches a crescendo, will you take Prince Aemond's hand to dance?

Stepping right into the jaw of a man eating dragon was never a part of your plan but Aemond doesn't mind.

He was always fond of a little hunt.

GENERAL FEIXIAO ! - Honkai Star Rail.

Being part Borisin, Feixiao has a hard time controlling her urges when it comes to a lot of things. But whenever she catches a glimpse of you, she comes running faster than the wind. She's such a powerful and imposing woman, however could you turn her company away...?

Entertaining as she may be, the dangerous red glimmer in her eye sends a shiver down your spine. Whenever you seem to step out of line, General Feixiao is swift with dealing with anything that troubles her.

Oh the horror when she snaps one evening... She holds you tight in her arms, sharp fangs sinking deeper and deeper into your neck as she swears to keep you by her side forever...

627 notes · View notes

bratkook · 1 year ago

Text

deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk

part one. part two. v-day drabble

pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah

The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver.

Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions.

The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance.

You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you.

When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual.

Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally.

You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection.

Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it.

The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside.

“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease.

You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot.

When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you.

It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe.

You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them.

The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you.

You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure.

He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”

“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you.

Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”

You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”

He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws.

“Those must be your favorite huh?”

You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”

He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”

“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle.

“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll.

“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with.

“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”

“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”

His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”

“Y/N.”

He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt.

He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today.

Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child.

“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into.

“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”

You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”

He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”

“Got it. So you torture people?”

Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”

You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew.

It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home.

Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith.

“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over.

You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”

His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting.

“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away.

“My boyfriend, specifically.”

Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is.

The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse.

But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs.

“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”

You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras.

You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret.

Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates.

The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt.

And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line.

Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths.

It was innocent.

“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off.

“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too.

“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock.

“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt.

“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance.

Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him.

Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank.

Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.

Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.

The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other.

The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder.

It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.

“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory.

“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”

“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission.

“You know what?” you whisper.

“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”

You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”

“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back.

“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”

Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”

The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public.

“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him.

“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.

“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”

“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.”

He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”

“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.

“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping.

Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away.

“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol.

“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”

Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”

“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”

Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”

“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle.

“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him.

“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”

Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”

“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining.

“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”

That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet.

It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place.

As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right.

“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining.

“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”

“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was.

“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight.

You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him.

“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was.

“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile.

“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest.

He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together.

Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?”

Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you.

“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable.

“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him.

Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before.

It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss.

Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity.

You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace.

“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view.

Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks.

Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine.

He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body.

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure.

“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer.

“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body.

Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions.

The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes.

“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks.

You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on.

It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you.

“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling

“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more.

“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression.

“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks.

“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit.

Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you.

“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue.

“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in.

Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder.

The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him.

The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder.

“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered.

“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you.

Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers.

“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation.

“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth.

“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”

You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper.

“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him.

Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching.

“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him.

“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length.

“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you.

“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you.

The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides.

“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip.

“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench

“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be.

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”

The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action.

“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”

He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet.

Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity.

Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears.

“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling.

“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself.

It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs.

A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter.

“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down.

“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once.

“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him.

“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”

You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”

He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation.

“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better.

“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again.

It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels.

“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak.

“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze.

“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out.

He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going.

Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls.

“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction.

“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard.

“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you.

Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet.

“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”

Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you.

Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him.

“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again.

“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom.

The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body.

“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze.

“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs.

He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom.

You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip.

“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”

Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy.

If you were mine.

That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing.

“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough.

Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up.

“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds.

All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes.

You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy.

But that's not your reality.

You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time.

As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out.

Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who.

“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder.

“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”

Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”

And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now.

Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk.

Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x

Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt.

Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.

#jungkook smut #new

1K notes · View notes

natsaffection · 6 months ago

Text

Lines crossed. Pt. 2 | N.R

Avenger!Natasha x AntiHero!Reader

Warnings: 18+! Fluffy Smut (fingering and oral), talk about past, scars

Word Count: 2,8k

A/N: Okay, since the first part exploded and many people wanted a sequel, the second part is now here!

Part 1

The first light of dawn filtered through the rain-streaked windows, casting a soft glow over Natasha’s apartment. The storm had passed, leaving a quiet stillness in its wake. Natasha stirred from where she had been sitting, her eyes red and heavy with exhaustion. She had stayed by your side all night, watching over you, making sure your condition didn’t worsen.

You lay on the couch, covered by a warm blanket. Your breathing was steadier now, though your face still bore the marks of pain and fatigue. Natasha stood up quietly, stretching her stiff muscles before heading to the kitchen to make some coffee.

The aroma of fresh coffee filled the room, and the sound of the percolator seemed to rouse you from your restless sleep. Your eyes fluttered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings before your gaze settled on Natasha. She approached with a mug in her hand, her expression a mix of relief and concern.

“Morning,” Natasha said softly, handing you the mug. “How are you feeling?” You winced as you shifted to sit up, accepting the mug with a grateful nod. “I’ve been better,” you replied, your voice raspy. “Thanks for… everything.”

Natasha sat down on the edge of the coffee table, her eyes searching yours. “You gave me quite a scare last night. Do you remember what happened?”

You took a sip of the coffee, the warmth soothing your throat. “Yeah… I was outnumbered. I thought I could handle it, but…” You glanced down at the bandages on your side, your expression darkening. “Guess I miscalculated.”

Natasha’s eyes softened. “You’re lucky to be alive. Those wounds were serious.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I know. I just… didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Natasha reached out, placing a hand on your arm. “You did the right thing coming here. I’m glad you did.” You looked up at her, a hint of vulnerability in your eyes. “I’m not used to asking for help. It’s not… easy for me.”Natasha nodded, understanding. “I know. But you don’t have to do this alone. We can help you. I can help you.”

You hesitated, the weight of your past actions pressing heavily on you. “But what about S.H.I.E.L.D.? The Avengers? They won’t just forget everything I’ve done.”

Natasha’s expression hardened with determination. “We’ll figure it out. But first, you need to heal. Then we can talk about what comes next.” You nodded slowly, the reality of your situation sinking in. “I don’t know if I can ever make things right, Natasha.”

Natasha squeezed your arm gently. “It’s not going to be easy, but you’re not beyond redemption. We all have our demons. The important thing is that you’re willing to try.”You met her gaze, the flicker of hope in your eyes growing a little stronger. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For not giving up on me.”

Natasha smiled, her eyes warm. “You know,” she began, her voice soft, “I also wasn’t always this person. I used to be someone very different. My past… it wasn’t pretty.” You looked at her, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

“I was trained to be an assassin,” Natasha said, her eyes distant as she recalled her past. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of. But then, I was given a second chance. Someone believed I could be more than what I was trained to be. They saw something in me worth saving.” You listened intently, feeling a connection forming. “And you changed?”

Natasha nodded. “It wasn’t easy. It took time, and I had to face a lot of my demons. But I did it. And if I could do it, so can you.” Her words resonated deeply within you, giving you a glimmer of hope. “I want to believe that,” you said quietly. “I really do.”

Natasha’s gaze softened, and she leaned in a little closer. “You’re already taking the first steps by being here. That’s more than enough for now.”

Without thinking, driven by a sudden surge of emotion, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Natasha’s. The kiss was gentle but filled with desperation and gratitude. For a moment, Natasha froze, and panic set in. You pulled back, your eyes wide with fear that you had ruined everything. “Shit, I’m sorry,” you stammered, your heart pounding. “I shouldn’t have—”

But before you could finish, Natasha cupped your face in her hands and kissed you back, her lips soft and warm against yours. The kiss deepened, filled with unspoken promises and a shared understanding of pain and redemption.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Natasha’s eyes held a mix of emotions, but there was no anger, only acceptance. You stared into her eyes, feeling a connection that you had never felt before. The room seemed to close in, and the outside world faded away. All that mattered was the two of you in that moment.

Driven by a mix of gratitude and the need to repay her for her kindness, you leaned in again, kissing her more deeply this time. Your hands found their way to her shoulders, pulling her closer. Natasha responded, but with a controlled intensity that made your heart race.

“I kinda want to repay you..” You said and Natasha pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with emotion. “You don’t owe me anything,” she said firmly, though her voice was gentle. “But if this is what you want… then let me take care of you.”

Natasha’s hands moved to the hem of your shirt, but she paused, glancing at your bandaged side. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked, concern evident in her voice. “I am,” you replied, your voice steady. “Just… be careful.”

Natasha’s eyes softened, and she carefully lifted your shirt over your head, her touch both gentle and firm. She ran her hands down your sides, avoiding the bandaged wound, her fingers sending shivers through your body.

You reached out to touch her, but Natasha gently pushed your hands away, a smirk playing on her lips. “Let me,” she whispered, her voice low and commanding.

You felt a thrill of excitement and a hint of frustration. “What if I want to take care of you?” you challenged, your voice breathy. Natasha’s eyes flashed with amusement and something darker. “We’ll see about that,” she replied, her tone teasing but firm.

She leaned in, kissing you again, her hands exploring your body with a careful yet possessive touch. Her lips trailed down your neck, making you gasp softly. You felt her fingers brush against the scars on your chest, and you tensed slightly.

“You’re beautiful,” Natasha murmured against your skin, her words sending a warm flush through you. “Every part of you.”

You relaxed under her touch, feeling safe and cherished. Natasha’s hands moved with expert precision, caressing and teasing until you were trembling with need. She was rough enough to assert her dominance but always mindful of your injuries, never pushing you too far.

“G-God..” you moaned softly, your hands gripping the couch cushions as she continued to drive you wild with her touch. “Shh,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. “Let me take care of you.”

You surrendered completely, allowing Natasha to guide you. Her movements were a perfect blend of roughness and tenderness, making you feel desired and protected at the same time. She kissed her way down your body again, exploring everywhere, her touch igniting a fire within you.

You couldn’t deny how good her touch felt. Natasha continued to explore your body, her hands and mouth leaving a trail of sensations that made your head spin. She was rough enough to keep you on edge but always careful, never letting you forget that she was in control.

When she finally moved lower, her hands parting your legs, you gasped, your body arching towards her. “Natasha,” you breathed, your hands reaching for her.

She held your gaze, her eyes dark with desire. Your breath hitching as she moved closer. Natasha’s touch was both commanding and gentle, her fingers exploring you with a skill that left you trembling. She brought you to the edge, holding you there, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely a whisper. “I need you.” Natasha’s lips curved into a smile. “Patience,” she murmured, her touch driving you wild. When she finally took you over the edge, it was with a fierce intensity that left you breathless and trembling.

You cried out, your body arching towards her, your hands gripping the couch cushions as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Natasha held you through it, her touch gentle now, soothing you as you came down from the high. She pulled you into her arms, holding you close, her lips brushing against your forehead.

She kissed you again, her lips soft and inviting. You could feel the fire reignite within you as her hands roamed your body with renewed fervor. She leaned back slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a dark intensity. “Ready for more?” she whispered, her voice husky. You nodded, your breath hitching. “Yes… please.”

Natasha smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes as she resumed her exploration. She kissed her way down your neck, her hands caressing your sensitive skin. Her touch was both commanding and tender, igniting every nerve ending as she moved lower.

You gasped as Natasha’s fingers found their way between your thighs, her touch electric. She moved with a deliberate pace, building you up again with expert precision. The tension within you coiled tighter and tighter, the need for release almost unbearable.

Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Come for me, Y/n, come on..“ she commanded softly, her voice sending shivers down your spine. With a cry of pleasure, you came undone beneath her touch, your body arching towards her as waves of ecstasy crashed over you again. Natasha held you close, her hands steadying you as you trembled in her arms.

When you finally came down from the high, Natasha kissed you softly, her eyes filled with warmth and satisfaction. “You did so well,” she murmured, her voice soothing.

You lay there in the aftermath, your breath slowly returning to normal. Natasha’s arms around you felt like the safest place in the world. She glanced down at you, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Y/n,” Natasha began softly, her fingers tracing the scars on your body. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s a long story,” you murmured, your voice tinged with sadness. “I wasn’t always like this. I had a family once. A sister. She was everything to me." Natasha listened intently, her hand gently stroking your hair. "What happened?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "She got involved with some bad people. Tried to help her, but it was too late. They... they killed her. The police did nothing. They said it was an accident, but I knew better. I saw the bruises, the fear in her eyes. I knew she was in trouble, and no one was willing to help."

Natasha's eyes softened with understanding. "So you took matters into your own hands." You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I couldn't let those monsters walk free. I couldn't let anyone else suffer like she did. So I started hunting them, taking down the ones who hurt innocent people. It became my mission, my way of coping with the loss."

Natasha pulled you closer, her embrace comforting. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. No one should have to go through that." You sniffled, wiping away a tear. "I know what I did was wrong, but I felt like I had no other choice. I had to do something."

Natasha nodded, her voice gentle. "I understand now. Your intentions were good, but the methods were extreme. But we need to find a better way." You looked up at her, a glimmer of hope in your eyes. "Do you really think it's possible?"

Natasha smiled softly. "I do. But it's going to take time and effort. And you're not alone in this. I'll be with you every step of the way."

The next few days passed quietly. Natasha helped you regain your strength, providing a safe space for you to heal. She was always there, offering support and understanding. You found yourself opening up more, sharing stories and fears you had kept buried for so long.

One evening, as the two of you were sitting on the couch, Natasha turned to you, her expression serious. "Y/n, there's something I need to tell you."

You looked at her, sensing the gravity in her tone. "What is it?" Natasha took a deep breath. "Don’t be mad, but I called Fury. He's on his way here."

Your heart raced, a surge of panic rising within you. "What?! Why? I thought-“ Natasha raised her hands, trying to calm you. "No, listen. He's coming alone, and he wants to listen to you. I explained your situation, and he agreed to hear you out."

A short while later, there was a knock at the door. Natasha stood up, giving you a reassuring nod before opening it. Fury entered, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding.

"Romanoff," Fury greeted, his gaze shifting to you. "Y/n." You swallowed hard, trying to steady your nerves. "Director."

Fury sat down across from you, his eye fixed on you with an intensity that made you shiver. "Natasha tells me you want to make things right. I’m all ears.“

You took a deep breath, recounting your story, your motivations, and the reasons behind your actions. Fury listened intently, his expression unreadable.

When you finished, there was a heavy silence. Fury leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours. "You've taken the law into your own hands. That's a dangerous path.“

You nodded, "I know what I did was wrong. But to all respect..Do you know what it’s like to watch innocent people suffer because the system is too slow or too corrupt to act? To see those people walking free because they can afford good lawyers? I did what I did because someone had to.”

Fury sighed, his expression softening slightly. "You're a fighter, Y/n. I can respect that. But you need to learn to fight the right way." You looked up, surprised by his words. "What do you mean?"

Fury glanced at Natasha before continuing. "You want justice? Fine. We'll give you a chance to prove yourself. You'll work for us, under supervision. Help us take down the real threats, the ones that slip through the cracks. But you step out of line, and it's over. Understand?"

The weight of his words settled on you. This was it, a chance to prove yourself, but also a heavy responsibility. You glanced at Natasha, who gave you an encouraging nod. "I understand," you said firmly. "Thank you..“

"Good," Fury said, his voice firm but not unkind. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. Don't make me regret this."

---

As you walked through the halls of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, you felt the eyes of agents on you, their expressions a mix of curiosity, suspicion, and, in some cases, outright hostility. You tried to ignore the whispers and the glares, focusing on the promise you had made to Fury and to yourself.

Natasha guided you to a conference room where the Avengers were gathered. The room fell silent as you entered, every eye on you, again.“

"Everyone, this is Y/n," Natasha began, her voice steady. "She'll be working with us from now on." Tony was the first to speak, his tone skeptical. "So, we're just supposed to trust her now?"

"I know it's a lot to ask," Natasha replied, her gaze steady. "But she's here to make things right. And Fury's given her a chance. We need to give her one, too."

Steve stepped forward, his expression serious. "It's not going to be easy. You'll have to earn our trust. But if Natasha believes in you, that's a good start."

You nodded, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. "I know I have a lot to prove. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "I won't let you down." Natasha guided you to a room in the living quarters. It was small but comfortable, a far cry from the places you had been staying in recently.

"This is your room," Natasha said, her voice softening. "It's not much, but it's a start." You looked around, feeling a strange mix of emotions. "No, it's perfect.."

Natasha placed a hand on your shoulder. "Remember, you're not alone. We're in this together." You nodded, feeling a sense of hope for the first time in a long while. "I know. And I won't forget it."

As you settled into your new room, the reality of your situation began to sink in. The road to redemption would be long and difficult, but with Natasha's support and the chance to prove yourself, you felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And as you lay down to rest, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your life. A chapter filled with hope, determination, and the promise of a better future.

@mrsrushman @lOnelyish @imnotslouching @a-colletion-of-cells

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

688 notes · View notes

barnesafterglow · 7 months ago

Text

first burn

summary: your crush on peter may burn you alive

pairing: mcu!peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: not canon compliant (no snap, everyone is happy and healthy and no one did anything stupid), peter is of age and well within his rights to fuck!!, a little tropey for a second (brief "fake dating" and "only one bed" to move the story along), smut [unprotected sex, pull out method oral (f receiving), just some sweet love making dude], listen i'm here for a good time not a long time

a/n: two fics in a year?? who is she

main masterlist - i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary for updates!

Peter Parker was going to be the death of you.

With each grunt that echoed through the gym in Avengers Tower, your eyes flicked to his sweaty form. The goddamned death of you.

You tried to backtrack, to see when these feelings first started as a small burning in the back of your mind that had turned into a raging wildfire every time you were in his presence. It had to have been the mission in London.

It was normal - or as normal as any Avengers mission could be.

You had just stumbled through the throes of midtown London, hand in hand with your boyfriend, looking with every bit of wonder like neither of you had ever seen the delights it had to offer.

Then, as soon as you stepped through the hotel door, Peter dropped your hand as if it had burned him the whole time.

Maybe it started then, with that glimmer of disappointment. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend and he would never take the time to take you around tourist London like he had just done.

And then that pit in your stomach grew as the door to your room opened: only one bed. Jesus Christ, Tony.

“I know,” came the response from beside you; you must have spoken out loud. “It’ll be fine.”

Those were the last words he spoke for a long while, as you both got ready for bed, then slid in beside each other. The tension was palpable, and you didn’t know if it was your slowly mounting feelings or the clench of his discomfort, but regardless you slept fitfully for hours until you finally stumbled into a deep sleep.

You woke up to a strong pair of arms wrapped around your middle - somehow pressed there in the dark of the night - and the world spun around you as you shot up.

Peter was alert in seconds, standing by the bed assessing for a threat, when his eyes met yours - utterly confused and you had no real answer for him.

“Bad dream,” you mumbled as you headed to the bathroom, the door clicking with a sort of finality behind you.

And it was fine, really it was. You definitely didn’t think about the way press of his body against yours and how sexy his bed head had looked. Nope. Not at all.

And you definitely didn’t imagine what he would have looked like if you were the one who made him sweaty and flushed like he was right now.

Snapping out of your borderline impure thoughts, you stood from your spot on the ground where you had been warming up and - before your mouth said something you could regret - you walked out of the gym.

With your back turned, you missed the way Peter’s eyes followed you the whole way.

Saturday nights were girl’s nights, as Wanda so boldly claimed. And girl’s night came with a lot of complaining.

Throwing the shot back, you groaned, not even wanting to voice your thoughts aloud.

“I shouldn’t even think about it,” you said. “He’s practically a kid.”

“Not to impede on your self-loathing, but he’s not a kid anymore babe,” was Natasha’s response. She nodded across the bar where Peter was sipping his beer, laughing at something Sam had said. Right, he was 22 and totally within your age range, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still see him as the 16 year old kid who had fought by Tony’s side. “Plus you’re not that much older than him. We used to call you a kid too, you know.”

Dragging your hand down your face, you stood from the table to order another drink, ignoring Nat and Wanda’s laughter at your misery.

As you leaned against the bar waiting, Peter dropped down into the stool beside you.

“Alright, what did I do to you?” His words were casual, joking, but you could hear the hurt laced within. That was never your intention, and your heart sank.

You and Peter had been friends for a long time, since Tony had first brought him in after the air had cleared with him and Cap. You bonded over being the youngest Avengers and what that meant for your lives. The two of you understood each other on another level that no one else truly did. And here you were, ruining everything over a little crush.

“Nothing, Pete.” You ruffled your hand through his hair and his face lit up in a blush that he tried to hide behind his beer bottle. “How have you been?”

“Not too bad, I guess,” he replied, then looked down at you - when had he gotten so tall - with an unreadable emotion on his face. “I miss you.”

Right. And you were back where you started. Admittedly, you had avoided him for the most part since that London mission, only saying hi in passing and at the occasional movie night or debrief. You weren’t exactly proud of it, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“I miss you too,” you whispered, shame coating your words. You never meant to hurt him - honestly, you didn’t. “Listen, kid, I just-“

“Don’t call me kid.” And the anger in his words surprised you. “I’m not that kid you met six years ago - when you were barely any older, might I remind you - and you know that. I know you know that. So don’t use that as an excuse to stop whatever is going on here.” His hands gestured between the two of you.

Strong, capable hands that you had seen hurt and save, had seen run through his hair, had seen play video games. Hands that you had imagined for weeks now. Hands that you couldn’t help but grab out of mid air, clasping one in your own.

“And what’s going on here, Peter?”

He leaned in close, breath hot on your ear.

“I see the way you look at me.” Your breath hitched, then stopped altogether. “But I don’t think you see me looking right back.”

Body all of a sudden hot and raging with emotion, you squeezed his hand and took a deep breath.

“Take me home.”

Your apartment was closer, so you walked the handful of blocks from the bar in tangible silence. Every brush of fingers was an electric jolt through your body and every bump of shoulders sent heat through your core. By the time you reached your front door, the tension was pulled so tight it was bound to snap at any moment.

And snap it did.

As soon as you had the apartment door closed behind you, Peter was on you, his hands everywhere all at once. He crowded you, pulling you close to him when you winced at the door knob digging into your side. One hand came to rest on your hip, rubbing soothing circles there, while the other cradled your face, eyes searching for permission.

You didn’t know what you were giving him permission for, but you nodded anyway.

The world around you stopped as Peter placed a searing kiss to your lips, stealing the breath from your lungs. The hand on your face moved to gently tug your hair and he took your gasp as an invitation to explore your mouth. God the boy knew how to kiss.

His tongue pressed into you, tasting every inch while your hands roamed his body. When he pulled away - not for air, not to leave you, but to place hot kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of burning fire in their wake - you tugged on his t-shirt in a silent plea for him to take it off.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him without a shirt before. Between missions and training and plain old gym sessions, you were thankfully no stranger to a shirtless Peter Parker. But in the dim light of your living room, with those brown eyes boring into your own, everything was suddenly different.

You just stared - for far longer than necessary, you were sure - until he took a step back towards you, his fingers intertwining with your own. Nodding at him, you started to lead him towards your bedroom, not making it more than two steps until his hands were once again exploring your body.

When you finally made it - a trail of both of your clothes left in your wake - your breaths were heavy and panting, aching for more of him.

He stood there for a moment just looking at you, taking in the red lace of your bra and underwear. Unable to contain himself, he ripped it off of you in two quick pulls, leaving you bare before him.

You expected him to jump on you the second you were naked. Instead he pressed his front against your own - you gasped at the contact of your nipples against his bare chest - and lightly traced shapes over your exposed back, moving down to trail along your legs, then back up your arms. Everywhere he touched burned the memory into your skin.

Finally, finally, he gently pushed you against your bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft bounce, and he peeled off his jeans and underwear before manhandling you towards the center, moving your body as if you weighed nothing.

You truly didn’t need any foreplay, the tension on your own end built up these last few weeks on top of Peter’s heated discovery of your body made for an easy transition, but he wasn’t about to let that happen.

No, Peter Parker was a fucking tease.

He started by kneading the soft skin of your breasts, touch light and gentle as if you were something precious. Even when he leaned down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, he still only gave you quick nips, nothing as satisfying as you needed. He made his way down your body, placing lover’s kisses everywhere he could reach, before finally settling down on his stomach between your legs.

You thought that this was surely the moment you would get some reprieve, some kind of real touch that may or may not send you over the edge, but no. He wasn’t done with you yet.

He kissed the inside of each thigh, alternating until he was breathing right where you needed him most. When you thought you were about to explode, he finally lowered his mouth to your core.

The feeling after so long of teasing was euphoric, and you swear if you were a weaker woman you could have come from the first swipe of his tongue against your clit. You held out as his tongue made its way in circles and figure eights, then he pressed a finger against your entrance, eyes looking up through dark lashes to silently ask permission.

Once you had given it, he sank a finger into you, pumping it a few times before adding another. With that, both his hand and mouth picked up speed until you were grinding on his face, chasing your orgasm.

You were on the edge, ready to jump off, when he pulled back. You whined at the loss of contact and tried to sit up, but one large hand pushed you back against the bed, the other starting its assault all over again.

This time, he didn’t stop until you were coming all over his face, and you think you blacked out for a second because the next thing you knew he was over top of you, not even bothering to wipe his mouth before kissing you, driving his tongue in and swallowing down your moans.

He ground his hips against you, his cock sliding easily through your folds, and you both whined as his tip caught at your entrance. He continued his movements, getting closer and closer to fucking you with every pass, but never quite committing.

Sick of his teasing, you pushed hard on his shoulders and, in his surprise, were able to flip him so he was on his back.

“Stop teasing, Peter,” you whispered in his ear as you straddled his waist. “I need you.”

You pulled back, eyes searching his, before he nodded and wrapped his hands around your hips. Taking that as permission, you grabbed his cock, lining it up and slowly sliding down.

He was big, much bigger than you had anticipated, and you had to take your time before he was fully seated inside you. Once your hips were flush together, you took a breath, practically feeling him in your throat.

He looked up at you - almost adoringly - as you adjusted to him. You leaned down, pressing your chest against his, and kissed him gently, pouring every ounce of emotion you possibly could into it before starting to move your hips. Now more adjusted, the burn of the stretch turned into a pleasure that had you melting against him and hands guided your hips to move you along his length.

For long minutes you let him move you as he wanted, content to hang on for the ride. You didn’t expect for Peter to flip you over and start pounding into you.

“Fuck,” you gasped out as he settled your legs over your shoulders. “So fucking deep.”

All you could do is hold onto him as he fucked you, alternating between hard thrusts and slow grinds until you were dizzy with pleasure, chasing an orgasm that wasn’t going to come unless Peter damn well wanted it to.

And when he did, when he reached down and rubbed harsh circles into your clit, you exploded around him. The clench of your heat around his cock spurred his own orgasm, and he pulled out at the last second, his come coating your stomach and tits.

That on is own was hot enough, but Peter fucking Parker did not come to play. He swiped two fingers through his own release before pressing them to your mouth. You opened up for him, cleaning off his fingers as he groaned, and you could see his cock give an interested twitch, like it was already trying to go for round two.

The weight of his body disappeared from yours and you whined, reaching out for him even with your eyes closed. He quickly returned with a warm rag and cleaned you up before maneuvering you both under the covers.

Regaining a semblance of strength, you turned so that you were facing him, suddenly very aware of each of your nakedness.

“What now?” Your voice was hoarse-sounding, it’s only use in the last bit from moans and gasps.

“Well,” he started, once again tracing shapes along your bare skin, “I think we maybe skipped a step in the middle of all this.”

“What do you mean?” If he was going to say what you thought he might, your heart would implode.

“I mean, I’ve liked you for a really long time, longer than I’m going to admit, and I took this chance because I didn’t know if I would ever get it again. But if I’m right - and I think I am - then you feel the same way I do. So, I want to take you on a proper date. I want to make this work.”

His confession made your heart stutter-step and you couldn’t even find the words to tell him yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Instead, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, hoping every emotion he had just poured out to you was matched in the press of your lips against his.

“I’m taking that as a yes, then.”

“Yeah, Pete, it is.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #mcu peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker smut #mcu peter parker fic #mcu peter parker smut #mcu #marvel #marvel fic #mcu fic #tiff writes #first burn

861 notes · View notes

frost-queen · 19 days ago

Text

Hot tub (Reader x JJ Maybank)

Requested by: @p0nycurtis, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex--awesome--22 @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @eliscannotdance

“Look let’s just find JJ and get this over with.” – Kiara spoke, looking over her shoulder to Pope and you. The three of you walked up the driveway. Kiara furrowing her brows when she noticed lots of lights coming from his front yard. – “What the…” – she mumbled underneath her breath. Pope had an interesting view of it too.

Looking confused around to the decoration lights like it was Christmas. Kiara hurried a bit up once she saw the huge thing in his front yard. Unable to miss the hot tub taking up so much place. Inside sat JJ, enjoying the warm water.

You rushed after Pope to reach the hot tub. JJ took the sunglasses a bit down. Eyeing his friends that came standing before him with shock. – “JJ what did you do?” – Pope asked. Gawking at the hot tub in disbelieve. JJ chuckled drunkenly. – “I got a jet going straight up my butt right now.”

It was clear he had been drinking. Certainly to see from the bottles of champagne standing in a floaty around him. – “Ya’ll should get in quickly.” – he continued, bringing a floaty with a bottle closer to him.

Kiara couldn’t stop herself from staring in disbelieve at him. Watching a JJ poorly poured some champagne in two plastic glasses. – “Do you hear me?” – He spoke when no response came. – “Hello!” – calling out for any attention.

Holding a glass up. – “How much did this cost?” – was the only burning question on Pope’s mind. JJ pulled the bottle of champagne down with a drunk chuckle. – “Uhm… well… with the generator, express deliver…” – he explained pointing around.

Kiara couldn’t stop looking around, still trying to hold on to the thought it wasn’t real. That hopefully this was all just a bad dream. You had a sense of what was coming next. Slightly whispering to yourself that he could still prove you wrong. – “Pretty much everything.” – he ended as the final blow was taken.

Pope’s jaw dropped. – “All of it.” – he said trying to wrap his mind around it. – “You spend all of it in one day.” – he finished. – “Pope…” – you said touching his arm to go easy. Pope pulled his arm away, too upset to listen to reason.

“Yeah burned a hole right through my pocket.” – JJ answered, not helping one bit with his case. It made you look up to the heavens, pleadingly. – “But come on guys look at this.” – his voice shrieked a bit higher as he brought the floaties closer to him.

Kiara kept staring in disgust at him. Something he quickly caught up on that he was being judged. – “Kie come one!” – he called out. – “Can’t a man have some luxury in life?” – he pleaded with no success.

Kiara shook her head, crossing her arms. – “Come on, honest all this scraping and struggling…” – his behaviour changing trying to maintain control over not losing his mind.

You noticed it. Saw him struggle to keep himself strong. You knew JJ. He wouldn’t do something this reckless unless something had truly shaken him up. – “You… you only live once right? Enough of this emotional shit, get in.” – he finished toughening up.

“JJ.” – you said coming closer to the tub. – “Y/n come on in, I’ve saved a special spot for you.” – he replied shoving a floaty aside. – “Y/n don’t encourage him.” – Pope told you. You glanced over your shoulder to him with a glare. – “Oh I almost forgot.” – JJ cut through.

Pressing a button as lights flashed on. An engine making a sound as water started to spray from one side to another. – “Yeah I know, disco mode.” – JJ called out with so much happiness. – “Are you kidding me!” – Pope shouted as JJ’s smile faltered.

“You could’ve paid for restitution.” – Pope blamed him. – “Or literally given it to charity!” – Kiara shouted along. – “Just stop!” – you yelled, turning around to them. – “Don’t defend him now Y/n!” – Kiara called back to you.

“I’m not, but yelling at him isn’t going to do any good. It’s not going to change anything. Maybe you should take a second and actually act like a friend than parent him Kie!” – you fired back without any shame.

Having enough of their parental talk towards him like he is a child that needs scolding. Kiara scoffed loud, turning her posture a bit away. – “So what you just want to pat him on the back and tell him it’s okay that he spend all of our money on a stupid hot tub!” – Kiara shouted back.

Pope tried to interfere, maintain some decency. JJ was pinching his nose bridge, close to lose his temper with all this shouting. – “Okay well I didn’t do that!” – he shouted getting up.

Your eyes immediately fell on the bruises on his chest. Knowing what it meant. Luke hadn’t kept his hands to himself. – “I got a hot tub for my friends!” – he called out trying so hard not to breakdown.

“No… you know what screw friends… for my family.” – he corrected himself. You climbed into the hot tub, not caring that you were getting wet. – “JJ what happened?” – Kiara asked shockingly. – “Look at this! Look at this Y/n.” – he said looking around.

You pushed his arm down, coming nearer to him. Wrapping your arms around him. The moment your arms were around him, he started sobbing loud. Burying his face in the nook of your neck. Hugging him tighter, barely able to withhold your own tears.

“I’m going to kill him.” – you whispered to JJ. Letting him know you weren’t going to let Luke off the hook so easily. He sobbed even louder, holding on tight to you. The only lifeboat he had in an endless sea.

“I’m sorry…” – he cried out to you. Regretting his action with the money. – “It’s okay.” – you reassured him. Giving him a kiss in his neck to let him know you were here. That you were always here for him. You felt him shudder against your body, embracing you tighter.

Leaning a bit back with your head, you cupped his cheeks, letting him meet with your eye level. Moving some of his hair aside. Wiping his cheeks dry from the tears. – “You’ll stay with me from now on.” – you told him. – “Your mom…” - he sputtered out with a sob, guessing what she would say.

“Would welcome you with open arms.” – you told him, wanting him to look you in the eye. He curled up a faint smile. You kissed his cheek, making him smile just that bit more. Taking his hand you guided him down.

Forcing him to sit in the hot tub with you. – “Now where was that jet going straight up your butt.” – you told him hearing him chuckle. He moved a bit away, allowing you to sit there.

You looked over at Pope, nodding to him that it was alright. That you had him. Pope nodded back, taking Kiara by the arm. – “Are you just going to leave them like this?” – Kiara called out. Pope kept pulling at her to give you some privacy. JJ sniffed loud, wiping some wetness of his face.

“I know you are trying to make me feel better Y/n.” – he said splashing some water away. – “Well you got us a hot tub, I might as well enjoy it.” – you answered looking up to him. JJ chuckled slowly turning his head. His smile freezing when his gaze entangled with yours.

Slowly fading and changing into adoration. Sensing what was going through you, probably was going through him as well. A desire to kiss each other. For unspoken feelings to be declared. JJ moved closer to you, lifting his hands up from the water to cup your face.

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” – he whispered to you. – “Then stay with me.” – you whispered back. Eyes closing, you decreased the space between you. Allowing your lips to touch. To touch for the first time with such intensity it made your heart burst into a million butterflies.

-------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

282 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 7 months ago

Text

xiii. show the world - t.w.

pairing: female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, angst, lots of angst to be completely honest, pining, age gap relationship, toto being down bad per usual, two idiots in love but won't admit it, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“be honest with me. are you seeing someone?”

daniel brings a wine glass to his lips, tilting it back as you sit across from him, your fork clattering against the table. heat radiates off of your cheeks, flourishing into your neck as your eyes snap away from his intense stare.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the sun was starting to set over the water, casting a tangerine glow across its surface. fluffy clouds float along, the sky bursting with lavender, fuschia, and cerulean hues. yachts drifted along, their lights beginning to glimmer as the sky grew dimmer and dimmer. on your left, it was almost like the city was given its first breath of night life, locals strolling along the streets, their conversations and the growl of engines as they zoomed along the streets merely white noise.

it was truly a breathtaking view, distracting you for just a moment, taking your focus away from the conversation at hand.

yet, you remember he’s awaiting your answer, arms folded across his chest, brows knit together. scrambling to formulate some sort of response, you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, shoulders slumping.

“what if i told you i was?”

“hmm,” daniel hums, downing the rest of his wine, “then i would say good for you, i guess.”

“oh come on,” your regain your composure, frustration brewing in the pit of your stomach, “i thought we consensually agreed that we wouldn’t explore a relationship because we needed to keep things professional.”

“i did that because that’s what you wanted,” daniel swivels his head, glancing out at the water, “i never agreed to that. i only respected your wishes because that was what you wanted. i never wanted that. i wanted you.”

“but you never told me,” you protest, absentmindedly picking at your ratatouille, “that night in jeddah, i vividly remember you telling me that you never acted on your feelings because you knew that it was one-sided.”

daniel huffs, shaking his head, “i didn’t think i would’ve had to spell it out for you. i was under the impression you knew that i had feelings for you. and actually, i thought you reciprocated those same feelings. thank you for reminding me of the cold hard truth. i feel so much better about this. thanks for that.”

“you’re not being very mature about this. what happened to staying emotionally mature about the matter?”

“i was doing that until i heard from alex that you were dating someone,” daniel retorts, his tone seething with fiery anger, “you couldn’t just tell me yourself? also, how long were you going to keep that from me? were you just not going to mention it until i found out?”

“i didn’t think it was important,” you shrug, shrinking in your seat as pairs of eyes sear into you, the stares becoming more and more prominent as daniel’s voice carries throughout the patio.

“starting a relationship with someone isn’t important?”

“daniel,” you hiss, desperately wishing you were wearing a cap or some sunglasses, “people are starting to stare.”

“okay and?” he cocks his head, “i don’t give a fuck. you have no fucking idea how heartbroken i’ve been these last few weeks. i feel like my entire world has been turned upside down. meanwhile you’re frolicking around with some douchebag from st. louis. obviously the dick is must have you in a chokehold because you’ve been a completely different person.”

“daniel, please,” the notes in your tone raise an octave as your lower lip trembles, “stop, please. people are listening. can we talk about this some other time–”

“well luckily for you,” daniel inhales sharply, rising to his feet, “i don’t want to discuss it any further. i’m done here. see you around, america’s princess.”

tossing his napkin on the table, the australian snatches the keys to his rental, muttering under his breath. you remain at the table, people resuming back to their previous conversations as the waitress comes by, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“is everything all right, madame?”

“i just need the check please,” you mumble, tears threatening to spill over as you reach for your purse, “i’ll pay for it all. i am so sorry about that.

“no worries madame,” the waitress chirps, “would you care for a free dessert for your troubles?”

you know what? free dessert didn’t seem too bad after all.

“oui, s’il vous plait.”

at your response, the waitress’ lips curve into a wide grin, “tu es le bienvenu.”

letting out a shaky breath, you wipe away a tear, pulling your phone out of your purse. swallowing the lump in your throat, you message the one person you needed most.

i hope things are going well on your end tonight. is there any chance you can come by my hotel room, or i swing by yours? it would be later tonight. i want my sexy, smoochable, handsome boyfriend. :’(((((

the moment you send the message, three little bubbles appear, signaling that he had received it, and was crafting a reply.

i take it the dinner didn’t go well? what happened, meine liebe? ich vermisse dich auch.

wrinkling your nose, you highlight the text, tapping the copy option. thumb gliding across the screen, you click on the google translate app, pasting it into the textbox.

what happened, my love? i miss you too.

i can explain more later. you type, are you busy?

never too busy for you. remember, we’re in monaco. i own a place here. 😘 you can just come by whenever you need. i’m at home. do you need the address?

yes please. i’ll be there as soon as possible.

i can’t wait to see your beautiful face. here’s the address. i’ll be waiting impatiently.

the second you type his address in your phone, the waitress comes by your table, a box in one hand, billfold in the other. placing the box on the table, you anticipate her to do the same with the check. yet, she doesn’t keeping it in her grasp.

“madame, your meals have been taken care. a gentleman called, inquiring if he could foot the bill. he stated he did not want you to worry about anything else this evening. is that all right?”

your heart flutters, “did he say a name, by chance?”

“no madame,” the waitress flashes you a quaint smile, “again, i am so sorry if your evening has been ruined in any sort of way. i hope the dessert helps in some fashion!”

“thank you,” you reciprocate the gesture, “and again, thank you for the dessert.”

“it is no problem,” the waitress dips her head, “have a great evening, madame!”

rising to your feet, you push in your chair, ensuring that you don’t forget the plain white box that was placed on the table. carrying it under your arm, you pull up your maps app, feeling a grin form.

maybe tonight will not end as poorly as it began.

you could thank toto wolff for that.

ever since miami, you felt as if the weight of the world was off your shoulders. the stress was alleviated, dissolving almost completely. you could go about your day without that ever-present thought in the back of your mind, gnawing away at you.

however, there were more mountains to climb. more obstacles to face.

you had yet to sit down with james, alex, or anyone else really, to discuss your decision to depart from williams at the end of the 2024 season.

toto was the only one who knew.

and for the time being, you were okay with that.

but you were running out of time. the days were soaring by. you would blink and suddenly it would be time to board that flight. it would be time to get behind the wheel, adrenaline coursing through your veins. it would be time to step on that podium, raising that gleaming trophy above your head, your team roaring below.

with four grand prixs wins, three of which were back-to-back, you were unstopabble.

a force to be reckoned with.

max tried to catch you, he really did.

but you were too fast, fueled by the thrill of victory.

it was intoxicating, sending an electric, exhilarating buzz throughout your entire being every time you breezed across that finish line.

and with a man like toto by your side, how could you possibly lose?

with the monaco grand prix on the docket for the weekend, you were preparing for a challenging race. the circuit was extremely tight, the track interweaving through the buildings and sights the city. it was an infamous track, known for its rich history and well, the accidents.

additionally, there was little to no room for overtakes. so if you wanted to be on that podium on sunday, you had to execute a stellar qualifying lap. with that added pressure, you were a little apprehensive for what was to come.

yet, you couldn’t let that anxiety creep in. you had to maintain your composure. it was crucial that you kept a calm, cool outlook on the race.

and as you found yourself at that massive gate, pressing the button to your left, you couldn’t help but feel peace of mind.

you could thank toto wolff for that as well.

with every moment spent with the team principal, you couldn’t help but shake this aching, nagging feeling.

it was a pure, innocent feeling. one that filled you to the brim with bliss, a cozy warmth blossoming in your chest, your heart swelling with joy. one that had you beaming from ear to ear, your once gloomy days now shining with this golden, rich light.

you were in love with him.

hopelessly in love, your whole heart resting in his tender hands.

you couldn’t tell him that though. you couldn’t bring yourself to.

at least, not yet.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“all right,” james’ sucks in a breath, his head swiveling from side to side, taking in the commotion all around.

“are you ready?”

“come on,” you wave a hand, “you know the drill. i was born ready.”

“i know,” the team principal’s lips twitch as he fights a smile, “but this is a pretty significant race. there’s a lot of history and heartbreak on this track.”

“are you saying that you don’t think i can win?” you tease, your voice muffled slightly by the thick exterior of the helmet, “james, i can do this. believe me, i can do this.”

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he places a hand on the top of your head, patting it, “just remember, whatever happens, i believe in you. always.”

i believe in you. always.

your lower lip trembles, and in that moment, you want to confess right there. you almost blurt out the words that had been lingering on your tongue for weeks now.

james, after this race, we need to to talk.

however, you don’t. you simply nod, drumming your hands against the steering wheel, “i’ll make you guys proud, i promise.”

“oh, you already do,” his eyes glimmer, bursting with pride, “you’ve made us so fucking proud these last few weeks. and you know what? i know you’re going to continue to make williams racing proud. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.”

fuck.

that conversation was going to absolutely destroy you, splitting your heart into two.

you couldn’t think about that, though.

the race was about to start.

on the grid, you were behind charles leclerc and oscar piastri. it wasn’t terrible positioning, but with the limited space, you knew that getting ahead would be nearly impossible. it would be a miracle if you were able to cross that finish line in first place.

yet, you were more than willing to take the risks involved to get to that position.

all you needed was a little bit of luck.

which, these days, it seemed like you were full of it. like you were carrying a four leaf clover in your pocket at all times.

as rays of sunshine filter through the clouds, a gold streak of light dances in your peripheral vision.

nestled on your wrist was the charm bracelet toto had gifted you that fateful night in jeddah. the charm gleams, reminding you of two things.

one, your very first grand prix victory.

two, that he was always with you.

perhaps he was that good luck charm you were desperately searching for.

maybe. just maybe.

in about seventy-eight laps, you would have that answer.

“and she has done the impossible! she has shattered yet another record! miss america has won monaco! she has won her fifth grand prix!”

“fuck yes!” you shout, “we won! we won monaco!”

“brilliant fucking job,” james’ voice trembles, thready with excitement, “bloody good job!”

euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless as it sucks the air out of your lungs. burying your head in your hands, your shoulders shake as you sob.

never, in your wildest dreams would you have expected to have made it this far.

never would you even imagined racing as a little girl, let alone racing at this caliber.

and winning races? five of them?

little you, cheesing with her toothy five-year-old smile, standing next to a kart, helmet under her arm, wouldn’t have ever dreamed of this moment.

you had improved miles upon miles from the driver you were last season. you made history. time and time again. you had shattered records, obliterating barriers in the world of formula one racing as a twenty-two year old woman.

and fuck, you weren’t even done yet.

you still had a world title to chase after.

“holy shit. holy shit. holy motherfucking shit.”

stepping out of the car, your heart races, your team nearly sprinting to congratulate you. picking out james, you flash him a thumbs up. the crowd raves, whooping, whistling, and hollering your newfound nickname.

“miss america! miss america! miss america!”

cameras appear out of thin air, recording as you step down, james and alex swathing you with their embrace. alex rattles your helmet, james’ grin shining bright as the cameras flash.

“what a bloody brilliant day!” james shouts, a glossy sheen over his eyes, “what a fucking day!”

“what place did you finish, alex?” your voice rises above the noise, “what did you get?”

“ninth!” he chirps, “two drivers in the top ten? that’s a pretty fucking good day!”

“a very fucking good day,” laughter rises in your chest, spilling out, “fuck, that nearly took everything out of me!”

“well you better shape up,” alex pats your back, “because you have a podium that’s calling your name.”

as the team gathers, making their way to the finish line, your heart yearns for one thing. well, one person.

toto.

pursing your lips, your eyes scan through the garages, attempting to make out the mercedes paddock. yet, there is too much movement in your line of sight as the crew members assemble, circling around their respective drivers.

the euphoria lingers as your step onto the podium, the crowd below applauding. there are shouts that rise above the clapping, yet you can barely make them out.

surveying the mass, your heart skips a beat as you locate him.

his eyes lock with yours, pure, radiant adoration painted across his features.

that’s my girl. he mouths, dimples apparent with every word.

a few strands of hair flutter in his face, the top button of his shirt un-done, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the chaos of race day.

yet, he was as gorgeous as ever.

as charles and oscar pop open the champagne, you hesitate, fingers trembling as they wrap around the neck of the bottle.

you know what?

fuck this.

“hey!” charles calls out as you step down from the platform, “where are you going?”

there’s a brief moment of confusion from the crowd, a few gasps ringing out as you shoulder your way down the stairs, muttering numerous apologies as you accidentally elbow several people along the way.

there was only one thing on your mind as you nudged your way through the throng of people gathered beneath the podium. although your skin burned beneath your suit, sweat clinging to every part of you, there was this tugging sensation at your heart. it urged you to keep going. to keep searching.

you were face-to-face now, his brow furrowing with concern, arms folded across his chest as you take another step forward.

“what are you–"

that’s when toto wolff found your lips colliding with his, the entire world crumbling away as he found himself lost in you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower

as always, if i forgot to add you, or if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know! thank you all for the endless support and love for this series! y'all are the sweetest! <3

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #alkaline series #alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #williams racing #mercedes amg petronas #alex albon #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #oscar piastri

435 notes · View notes

blissfulbarbie · 1 year ago

Text

I Hope You're Happy / Joel Miller x Reader

Description: Joel breaks up with you, thinking that he's setting you free to chase your dreams. And you do. And he gets another girl pregnant. And you meet each other in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. And you hope the other is happy. But you're not. You're both not.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Angst angst angst. No outbreak AU.

Deep down, you knew this day would come. What did you expect, dating someone 10 years older than you? You just didn’t think it would come this soon. Or that it would hurt this much.

As you sat there in the dimly lit living room, the weight of Joel's words hung heavily in the air. It had been a typical evening, sharing a meal and telling each other about your day, but something felt different tonight. The air seemed heavy with tension and Joel’s smiles didn’t really reach his eyes, betraying an inner turmoil that you hadn't seen before.

"Listen," he began, his voice tinged with regret, "I’ve been thinking a lot about something."

You felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you nodded, prompting him to continue.

Joel stared at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "I love you. So much. More than I ever thought I could love someone. But, I can't keep pretending that I can give you everything you deserve. I'm 35, and I've lived a life that's... complicated. I don't want to tie you down, especially when you have so much of the world left to explore."

You tried to understand his perspective. Tried to see where he was coming from but all you could think was, Why now? Why now when I’ve already fallen in love with you?

"I don't want you to look back one day and regret being with me," he continued, his voice gentle as he clasps both of your hands in his. "I couldn’t live with myself if one day you look at me and all I’d see is regret in your eyes. I want you to experience the world, to find your own path. I know you'll go on to do amazing things, and I don't want to be the reason you didn't." His eyes glimmered with tears.

“And what about what I want?” You stared back at him, defiant. “What if I want to be here with you?”

He smiled softly and shook his head. “You know, I could be selfish and keep you here with me. But what can you achieve in this town, really? You had such big dreams when we met, remember? Don’t think I forgot.”

He was right. You passed on a few big job opportunities in New York when you settled down with Joel, and you kept telling yourself you’d apply next week, which became next month, next year, until it never happened. Suddenly a fancy job and new apartment in the Big Apple didn’t seem appealing anymore. Not when you had Joel.

“Dreams change.” was all you managed to get out before your throat started to tighten and you felt the prickling of tears in your eyes.

Joel pulled you in for a hug and buried his face in your shoulder. “Don’t change them for me. Never for me.”

Deep down, you knew you had to go. Not because you wanted to, but because you knew Joel would never forgive himself if you didn’t. It was ironic and so painfully stupid that it hurt - he thought this breakup would help you and you went through with it to help him.

So there you went. You packed your bags and you were out of there in less than a week. You moved in with a friend in New York for a couple of months until you secured a stable job and an apartment. You followed Joel's advice, exploring the world, pursuing your dreams, and building a life that was uniquely your own. You missed him more than you cared to admit, but you knew that his intentions had been pure, and in a way, it did benefit you.

You have proper savings now, and you are a fully independent adult, carving your way painfully through a year of hard work, job searches, apartment hunting - all while navigating a broken heart. And while you love your new life, late at night in the dark of your fancy new apartment overlooking the city skyline, you often found yourself thinking, was it all worth it?

But you shake your head out of the daze eventually. Because if it isn’t worth it then all the pain and all the tears were for nothing. So you had to love this life. Forced yourself to love it because that’s what Joel wanted for you. Joel. Even now, you still live for Joel.

Until you didn’t. Your fingers freeze on your phone as you read the caption on Cassie’s new instagram post with a man who looks all too familiar.

Excited to welcome a new chapter into our lives. 👶❤️

Your stomach sinks. Your phone drops to the bed. And tears sting your eyes. No. It can’t be. You pick up the phone again and there he is. Your Joel, messy hair as if he just rolled out of bed and his scruffy beard. Smiling at Cassie who’s holding a picture of an ultrasound. CASSIE? And JOEL?

You try to think back to every interaction they had during the course of your relationship but it had never been more than polite small talk at neighbourhood gatherings or run-ins at the grocery store. Wasn’t she married? Fuck this. You double tap the picture, giving it a “like”. This will give them something to talk about, you think spitefully. He wanted me to move on with my life? Well this is me, moved on. As you throw your phone to the other side of the bed, the pain finally sinks in and you cry into your pillow, wondering if you truly, will ever move on.

In the years that pass, you try to distract yourself with work and your new friendships. On paper, your life in New York was going swimmingly well and you had even dated a couple of nice guys. Dating still gives you a little twinge in the heart but you ignore it for the most part. People would kill for the life you have and you will NOT be ungrateful about it.

But of course, life is never that simple. Just when you think you’re able to find happiness, you get thrown a curveball. And this curveball came in the form of Joel Miller, standing in the cereal aisle of your local grocery store. He’s older, grayer, but damn him, he still looks so fucking good. You stand there staring for a moment, while he examines the box of Cap’n Crunch. As he puts the box back down and glances up, he meets your eyes and you hate this cliche, but you swear to God, time stands still.

He whispers your name, almost in disbelief as his brows furrow. “Hey. Wow.”

“Hey.”

“You… How are you?”

“I’m good. Yourself?”

“Yeah great.”

Somehow this exchange cuts you deeper than the day he broke up with you. When did you become people who could barely speak 3 words to each other?

Trying to alleviate the clenching of your heart, you speak up. “What are you doing here? This is the last place I thought I’d ever run into you.”

He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I uh.. Tommy’s up here meeting a couple of friends and asked me to tag along. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out by the way, I should have texted when I knew we were heading –”

You cut him off, not wanting to hear lies. “No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to. You must be busy now anyways with the kid.”

His eyes soften at that, guilt and pain flashing through them but you push on. “It’s fine, really. You’re not obligated to tell me these things. I just saw on Cassie’s instagram. Is she here too?”

At that, he visibly stiffens and clears his throat as he replies, “Oh, Cassie and I aren’t together anymore. Well we were never.. But we kind of.. Yeah she’s not in the picture. It’s just me and Sarah.”

Sarah. He had a girl. A little girl. Your stomach twists and you kind of feel like throwing up so you try to find an exit. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Well, Sarah is lucky to have you. I always knew you’d make a good dad.”

He smiles for the first time in this conversation. “Truthfully, I have no idea what I’m doing half the time but she’s a good kid.”

Enough. Enough. Enough. “Well, it was nice meeting you again Joel, and I’m glad you’re doing well–”

“No, wait. Can we talk, please? I.. I’ve missed you. I want to talk.” Joel steps towards you as if to stop you from leaving but then holds himself back.

“I don’t think we have anything much to say to each other anymore, Joel, don’t you think?” You chuckle a little to mask the overwhelming urge to cry.

“I just want to know how you’re doing.” He looks at the ground, like a puppy scolded by his owner and you know you can’t resist the floodgates that pour out. You take a deep breath and let it all out in one exhale.

“Fine. You want to know? I’m doing great, just as you said I would. I make a ridiculous amount of money every year, I have a fancy apartment that overlooks the city, I have nice friends and a good life. It’s everything you wanted for me.”

“You deserve it. I knew you would.” He says, nodding with a sad smile.

“So why don’t I feel happy yet?” You can’t believe it but you actually start to cry. Here in the middle of the damn cereal aisle in front of your ex-boyfriend.

He stands stunned for a moment, his eyes concerned and brows furrowed. He eventually steps fully in front of you this time. His hands hesitate, as if he doesn't know where to put them, until he settles for your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I thought.. I thought you would be–”

You bat his hands off your shoulders. “Yeah, you did. But it doesn’t matter because what’s done is done and we’ll never get it back. Any of it.”

He says your name, pleadingly.

“No, I don’t blame you. I left, didn't I? It was my decision too. I guess deep down some part of me thought I would be better off. And in a way I am. I really am. But I cannot lie to you and say that I’m happy Joel, because I’m not. And nothing will change that. Because this is my life now.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as the weight of the years of separation hangs there. “I’m not either,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I’m not.. happy. Cassie and I had a fling when I was heartbroken and dealing with our breakup. She had just gotten divorced and I was.. I was planning to ask for you back. I was prepared to get on a fucking airplane and beg on my knees until you took me back. Whether that meant moving you back home or me moving here, it didn’t matter to me. We’d make it work. I just wanted you to know that I made a mistake and I shouldn’t have decided for you.” He places his hands on your shoulders again, and you let them stay this time.

He continues, speaking quickly as if a dam has burst. “But then Cassie got pregnant. And I knew I had to make a choice. We said we’d try to raise the kid together and be a family but.. A few months after Sarah was born she just left. Literally, took off and left, and I have no idea where she went. Frankly, I don’t even care. And then I got so busy with the kid and then years passed, and I just lost the timing. What, am I just supposed to call you up 10 years after breaking up with you, telling you what a joke my life has become? How I’ve regretted every moment since you packed your bags?”

You let all of his words sink in for a while before choking out, “And what do I do with all this information now? What do you expect me to do?”

He’s tearing up and his voice rises a little as he replies, “Nothing. I don’t expect nothing. I just needed you to know that I never spent a day without thinking of you or loving you. And that I’m sorry. And that I wish you were happy, because if you were, then at least all of this bullshit would be worth it. But you’re not.”

You nod, your brain not fully able to come up with words at this point, so he continues. “If you’d told me you were happy, I would have swallowed my pride, wished you well, and walked out of this store with the knowledge that at least all this pain has finally brought you joy. But we’re both hurting now, so what does that make us?”

“Two idiots crying in the cereal aisle?” You offer with a small chuckle through your tears.

He breathes out a small laugh. “Yeah. That it does.”

A woman passing through the aisle snaps you both back to reality as you wipe your tears and gather yourselves. “It is really good to see you, Joel. And.. thank you for telling me all of it. It doesn’t change anything but I think I needed to hear it.”

He shakes his head before looking into your eyes. “You know what the sick part is? 10 years ago I told you I never wanted you to look at me with regret in your eyes. Yet here you are.”

You nod and smile sadly. There’s nothing left to say.

His gaze turns soft. “I hope you’ll be happy someday. Maybe not now, but someday.”

“Maybe. And yourself?”

“Maybe.” He replies cheekily, smiling softly. With that, he pulls you in for a hug and the familiar waft of his cologne transports you back to 10 years ago when you hugged in his living room before saying goodbye, when you used to cuddle together so close at night, when he used to hug you before leaving for work. Your memories together flash before your eyes like a sick Hallmark movie except this time you know the ending.

You feel the press of his lips against your head and you swear you hear him whisper the words “I love you” but you can’t be sure because your heart is pounding and you can feel it in your ears. Your life from this point on will always be divided into before and after. The point where you know, you just know, the choice you made is irreversible. You will never have Joel Miller ever again.

As you pull away, you both tearfully smile and look at each other for the last time. You spend a good minute just looking, memorizing the other’s face. You both don’t bother with the polite pleasantries of promising to keep in touch because you know that would be a lie. It would be too painful. This is your fate now.

You walk past each other, leaving your memories and feelings behind in the dust of your footprints. To passersby, you look like strangers. Passing each other in the cereal aisle, meeting for a moment and then never again. And maybe that’s what you are now. Strangers, destined to be in each other’s lives for a moment, and then never again.

Joel eventually goes back home to Austin, and you stay in your beautiful apartment which seems to be mocking you with how big and yet empty it feels.

Joel looks at his daughter and wonders what it would be like if this kid was yours, and you stare at your phone, a message from your new date asking you to confirm a meeting time flashing on your screen.

Joel wonders what life would be like if you’d stayed. You wonder the same thing.

Tag list: @just-some-random-blogger @joeldjarin @pattwtf

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader angst #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

1K notes · View notes

kitasgloves · 4 months ago

Text

Having thoughts about arranged marriage au! with FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY. He only married you to get associated with your family's wealth. Oh, but poor naive you, who always believed in fairy tales and love stories. You believed you could love a mysterious, cynical, and dark man like Fyodor.

How pathetically determined you were trying to win his affection. Fyodor thought you were some sort of idiot for not taking a hint that he wasn't interested in romance. You two didn't share a room even if you two were married. There were no tender sentiments or words from him. He told you he wasn't keen on physical affection, surprise gifts, planned dates, or celebrating anniversaries. He strictly told you to keep your distance and listen to everything he said. The fact that you were eager to obey him made him think of you as positively foolish.

However, you were persistent. You tried to cook him food and sneak him small gifts. You made attempts to sing him love songs and throw small parties. You were a true romantic who believed in the magic of love. You were eager to have your husband fall for you as you fell for him.

Unfortunately, Fyodor was at his breaking point. You were so damn annoying and stubborn that it was getting difficult to contain his frustration with you. He snaps at you during dinner when you've planned another extravagant surprise for him.

"Didn't I tell you to quit that? We are not lovers, [Name]. We are only spouses on paper. I do not care about your affection for me"

He couldn't forget that evening. The moment Fyodor spoke those words, the glimmer in your eyes died. He felt momentarily satisfied thinking that you have finally snapped out of it. The following days were a series of odd changes from you.

Mornings were...quiet, for once. You stopped babbling nonsense to him and only focused on cooking and cleaning up. You ceased the gifts and surprise parties. You even quit playing those annoying love songs on the radio that he despises so much. It seemed as though someone had taken the battery out of you.

At first, Fyodor was pleased but as the days progressed, he felt...uncomfortable. He wouldn't like to admit but he does notice a lot of things about you. Such as your habits, and how you seemed to forcefully change them despite your discomfort. With your sudden quietness, he could see how you were avoiding his gaze and biting your tongue when alone together. And lastly, the disappearance of your fondness for him.

He despised to think how he appreciated how you paid attention to his preferences. You always knew which tea he liked, what classical music was his favorite, and how you often looked out for his health considering he has anemia. Now, you grew distant and stopped bothering him for attention.

Has your foolish infatuation with him vanished? If so, why does his chest feel tight? Fyodor waited for you to revert to you how you used to be. Cheerful, loud, and affectionate. He expects you to surprise him with a gift. The house seemed so empty without your constant talking.

Have you given up on romance? Or was it all just a childish dream to you all along?

You don't understand why Fyodor has been staring at you lately. He's been hanging around the house so much that it's suspicious. You can feel him following you around in every room as if expecting something. You're done trying to woo him and you've come to accept the fact that your husband is a cruel man. So, you grant his wishes and stop pestering him. However, in return, he's begun to silently pester you.

When you wish to be alone, Fyodor's always trailing behind you. He was beginning to praise your cooking unlike before. He invites you to go to the library to read or listen to Tchaikovsky with him. Whenever you leave without his knowledge and then return home, Fyodor wants to know where you went.

The old you would've been over the moon from all the attention he was giving you, but you've grown to lose your positivity about this marriage.

"Fyodor?"

"Yes, [Name]?"

"I think we should have a divorce"

The sound of the teacup clattering against the saucer fills the air. You slid the divorce papers across the table towards your husband. Fyodor swallows and blinks, registers his spilled tea and the divorce papers you have produced. He collects his composure.

"Why?"

"I don't see the point of this marriage anymore"

Fyodor likes to convince himself that he's not affected. It should be a benefit or a good opportunity to find someone better to marry. Yes, he's indifferent to the sight of your glassy eyes and wobbling lip. He does not care about the misery you carry of being married to him. Oh, what an absolute liar he was.

"No"

"...What?"

"We are not getting a divorce, [Name]"

You watched with ache as Fyodor took the divorce papers and tore them into shreds in front of your face. Your blood felt hot. Was he purposely torturing you? He has to be. Fyodor is nothing but a selfish man. He revels in your misery of bearing his last name.

Truly, Fyodor was selfish. Why? He couldn't bear to see you go or remarry somebody else. He couldn't stand for you to find your perfect fairytale romance with someone else. Your fondness should only belong to him. Was he not your first romance? Was he not the first one to ever witness your tender eyes? Fyodor just couldn't fathom you gifting another your previous affections. Nobody seemed worthy enough but he.

"We will make this marriage work"

You looked at him from across the table with contempt. You fail to register the determined and passionate look in his eyes.

You will learn to adore me again, one way or another

I've been brainrotting about Fyodor who tries to win his spouse's love back realizing that they're falling out of love with him like pleaaaase he's so unhinged when he's in love

#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fanfic #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor fanfic

302 notes · View notes

ma1dita · 10 months ago

Text

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace.

“Holy shit, you scared me!”

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed.

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose?

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.”

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.”

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape.

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.”

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill.

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco.

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you)

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning.

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for.

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans?

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist!

Gods.

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow.

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before.

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan angst #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

559 notes · View notes