#I’m sorry I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head
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kitimeq · 3 days ago
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ੈ✩‧₊˚we can’t be friends 🤍 xavier 星回 ੈ✩‧₊˚
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RE-UPLOAD! The original post didn’t show up in the tags, sorry for the confusion :c
pairing ੈ✩: xavier x reader
summary ੈ✩: you and xavier had been best friends for years, nearly inseparable since the moment you met. But after one slightly drunken night, everything shifted: you became friends with benefits. You told yourself you could handle it, but as time went on, your heart began to ache. You had to end it, for your own sake. You were in love with him, but you couldn't shake the painful truth: you believed he’d never feel the same. Still, what if, all this time, while you were trying to push him away, he was quietly hoping to show you how perfect you two were together?
word count ੈ✩: 12k. omg. it’s LONG, long. grab some snacks and let me entertain you for a while!!
tropes ੈ✩: 18+, smut, best friends with benefits, miscommunication, unrequired love, not really tho, angst, angst with happy ending, plot with porn, love confessions, needy xavier, obsessed xavier, domestic xavier, i suck at giving tropes i swear i will get better someday, desperate xavier, everything is consensual, the consumption of alcohol mentioned, pet names, xavier was once in love with mc but the myths are not canon in this one!!
author’s note ੈ✩: GUYS this one’s IT. This idea was blooming slowly in my mind for quite some time. I really hope you’ll like it 🥹 also, please be gentle with me, i’m not a native speaker of english and I’m definitely not a writer. I like to think that everything i create is just fueled by my passionate delulu. please let me know if you liked it and if maybe you’d like to read part 2!! ♡ enjoy your reading!!
!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!
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It all started with the simplest of touches.
Your hands grazed, as if by accident. Then your eyes met. He grabbed you by your forearm, or maybe you grabbed him, everything was so blurry in your mind. A touch on a waist, a hand on a chest, and a sudden clash of your lips. You saw fireworks exploding in your mind, sending pleasant thrumming throughout your whole body.
Desperate touches. Rapid breaths. A whisper, maybe two. He said something. What did he say? The sound of your heart was the only thing you could hear.
Your dress came off. You felt lips. Lips marking every part of your body, leaving behind wet paths that made the exposed skin shiver due to the coolness of the air. He went down. Down. Down, and looked at you expectantly. Your head never nodded that quickly and it probably never will again. You saw stars. Millions and millions of them, shimmering under your closed eyelids. He grabbed your hand and put it into his hair. You caressed it gently, savoring the softness of it.
Then, you saw his eyes. Beautiful, deep blues that looked far too innocent for what he did and what he was about to do with you next. He kissed you again and again, and again, and he held you close throughout the whole night, making you shiver, moan, cry, beg — until you fell asleep from exhaustion right in the safety of his arms. He turned your world upside down.
And then came the next morning, when you began to question the entire ordeal. You panicked, thinking about your friendship that you valued the most and Xavier, whom you just couldn’t bear to lose. However, when you wanted to put it past you, to blame the alcohol consumed that night, act as if it was just a slip of your judgement, a mistake, a reaction caused by the need of intimacy after being single for a long time, he wasn’t having it. He said that he couldn’t forget about it, that it changed things, and you blurted out the first thing that came into your mind. You proposed the whole arrangement.
And that’s how, after several months, your relationship with Xavier stayed clear and technically uncomplicated. Friends with benefits. You thought that even if that night did change things, then in this way you could act as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. In this way, you wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t make things awkward. You still acted normally in front of each other, you continued to spend time in almost the same way you were before that faithful night, but with one drastic change.
Almost every encounter since that night ended with you in his bed or the other way around. Hours and hours spend in each other’s embrace, touching and feeling too much, all at once.
And said feelings were what made you finally decide that you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue sharing with him this intimacy, pretending that everything between you remained unchanged. You couldn’t do this anymore, knowing that it was all that you’ll ever get from him, despite being in love with him for so long.
You knew that he would never reciprocate your feelings. You knew that from the beginning, from the very first touch of your fingertips that night, but you foolishly thought that having him close for as long as he wanted you, would be enough for you. Even if he wanted you only for your body, because you were the easiest choice.
However, your heart was breaking every time you were reminded of one significant fact, a harsh reality that felt like a bucket of cold water in your face.
He will never love you. Because you were not her.
And you would never be.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
You already had a strategy to end the arrangement. You wanted to take it slow, step by step, with just a bit of pain on your side. You knew it wasn't your best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. You wanted to end the friends-with-benefits arrangement in a way that would make you both slowly, almost naturally, drift apart—so subtly that he wouldn't even notice the change. As for you, you were ready to bear the painful consequences of your actions, if it saved you from the excruciating pain of a broken heart later.
You started with avoiding his kisses.
And it turned out to be a tough job to do, because you didn’t realize before how much of a kisser Xavier became during your friends-with-benefits situation. It never really bothered you before, you always accepted every single kiss with content. However, during your last meeting, you were trying so hard to avoid his lips, and noticed that he made it into an almost impossible task.
When you went out one night, he wanted to kiss you three times during hot pot, even though you were sitting across from each other. You thought that the sitting situation was enough of an obstacle, but you quickly learned that he always somehow managed to find a chance to try to steal a kiss. That not only bewildered you, but also made you blush so hard that you had to blame the spicy food for it to not look suspicious. Yet, you managed to stay your ground and ignored his needy attempts at capturing your lips.
You also avoided his lips while you were later watching a movie in his apartment, by pretending that you didn’t see or feel his constant gaze on you. You thought that maybe if he saw that the movie engaged you so much, he would finally drop the attempts. Unfortunately, your plan failed the moment his patience thinned, when he started kissing your neck while cradling your body to his. He was grabbing at you almost desperately and you really couldn’t escape from every single kiss he was giving you, no matter how much you tried to. And you really tried to.
“Why—why are you turning your face away? A-Ah… Let me look at y-you—mmm.” He said between his moans, and he never once stopped thrusting inside you. It was the day when he took you on a sofa between his soft, plushy pillows with the movie still playing in the background. Your legs were laying on his shoulder, his both hands holding onto them tightly while his hips thrusted deep inside you, making you gasp in pleasure. When you didn’t respond and kept your head away, hoping that he would finally stop with his relentless kisses, his hand gently grabbed your face and turned it towards his so that your eyes met. He smiled softly, his cheeks pink and face damp. “Yes, there you are. You feel good? You wanna break?” He almost slurred and you adored how quickly he was loosing himself with you, how much he was loosing his composure. When you squeezed your eyes, moaning at a harder thrust and shook your head no, he whimpered. Next thing you knew, he lowered your legs onto the sofa and layed between them, bringing his body closer to yours. Your chests touched and you could feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of your own. He nudged your head, which was still turned to the side, with his nose.
“Give me a kiss, c’mon, starlight.” He kissed your cheek, slowing down his thrusts to a lazy, delicate ones. “I couldn’t get a kiss all day, I need it. Let me.” And when you saw his eyes, full of desperation and something that reminded you of adoration, you couldn’t keep denying him. Your lips touched his and he didn’t let go of them until you came, and later when he began growling straight into your mouth, chasing his own undoing.
It was the last time you met up, and after that you decided that you had to cut it off completely. You couldn’t continue being with him like this, not when you knew that he already loved someone else. Being with him this close messed with your head. You didn’t want to feel like a convenient second choice and you couldn’t help but feel that your meetings were slowly becoming more and more intimate. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t together. You made sure to label the change in your relationship properly at the start of the arrangement — still on friendly terms, with occasional mutual pleasure. But the close proximity and constant intimacy started to make the lines blurry in your mind.
And your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt every time you reminded yourself that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and that he never will.
After that movie night you decided that the next step to your goal would be to stop engaging in small talk with him, especially the one that occurred at work.
You worked together at the Hunter’s Association, he was one of the best Hunters out there, and you specialized in weapon modification from the safety of your own desk. You wanted to be a hunter once, but with your Evol involving micromodification you guessed that you could be needed in a position that involved working with weaponry. After working there for years, you were passionate about your work and elated to have a job you loved and where you thrived while helping others to the best of your abilities.
Thus, because of the shared place of employment, you saw Xavier almost every day. He was often near your desk, passing by it, putting snacks before you or teasing you with that soft smile of his. So cutting the contact out there was one of the toughest jobs for you, but it had to be done.
When you knew that he would be free, you found a task that needed completion in other departments, so that you will not cross paths. Often, instead of others coming to you to fix their weapons, you proposed to make the trip instead. In this way you were always quick on your feet, going from department to department, back to the workshop and again to the others’ desks. You didn’t mind the extra activity, it made you think less about your breaking heart.
And when Xavier managed to catch you from time to time, because he always somehow would, you were trying to appear too busy even for a small conversation.
“Where are you rushing off to again? I didn’t manage to talk to you these past few days.” He said one day when he caught you by your elbow while you were going out of the bathroom. He must’ve seen you go in there and wait for you to come out. He brought you a little closer to himself and looked at your face so intently, that you got scared he could see right through you.
“Sorry Xai, I’m just really busy lately.” You answered, maybe too quickly, and were trying to calm your beating heart upon seeing him so close again. Too close. It didn’t help that he was in his hunter’s uniform, that made him look twice as dreamy. You were so close that you could also smell his comforting scent and see the small scar on his cheek that he got last year after you two tried ice skating for the first time.
The first and the last, for it appeared that you were much better at it than he would ever be, and you wanted to avoid him getting hurt again. It was also before your friends-with-benefits situation, when your friendship was pure and healthy. Your heart squeezed remembering how he grabbed your hand then, and how tightly he used to hold it throughout the whole activity.
“Xavier, are you sure you don’t want to go back home already? I’m afraid that your cut will scar if we leave it like that.” You said, looking at the bandaid on his cheek, the only remedy for his small injury that you could provide at that time.
He squeezed your hand and still appeared sheepish after his fall. You secretly found him adorable, you never saw him doing something in which he didn’t excel in. It was as if he let you see a part of himself that no one had ever seen before. That thought made your chest warmer.
“No. I won’t let the ice defeat me.” He said surely and you knew that he won’t give up, even if his legs already visibly trembled from exhaustion. You let out a sigh. “Besides, you’re holding my hand now, so I feel much safer.” He looked at you, his voice soft and cheeks red, most likely from the cold air. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state made you completely overcome by the feeling of tenderness, and you send him a huge smile, thinking that it was the first time he relied on your protection, and not the other way around.
Little did you know that this smile would catch him by surprise so much that he slipped backwards, this time pulling you down with him. However, your reflexes slightly worked, because you managed to put your hand behind his head, shielding it from the impact with ice. You landed on him with a groan as his hands moved to pull your body closer.
“Oh god, Xai, are you okay? How did that happen?” You asked him, trying to lift yourself off of him. You felt him relax his head further into your hand, and when you raised yourself enough to face him directly, he sent you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This sight made your heart melt.
“See, I knew you would protect me.” He replied, clearly referring to your hand behind his head. “My little savior.” He called you, and when you puffed the air out, annoyed that he could have hurt himself for real this time, his smile turned into a full laugh, his body shaking under yours. He looked so angelic, covered in snow, laughing in a way that was so scarce that you couldn’t help but join him in his moment of happiness.
And thanks to your mittens, your hand was left with only a purple bruise from the impact. Still, Xavier couldn’t let you forget about it up to the day it disappeared completely, expressing guilt for the minor injury, his sight chasing your hand every time it appeared in his line of vision. He often caressed it softly with his fingers, looking at it with a mysteriously thoughtful expression, whispering “My little savior.” under his breath. It made you wish that the bruise would never disappear.
You took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories and the closeness between you. He always invaded your personal space, stood so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face. This time, you had had to cut it out for your own good.
“S’okay. You’re always busy but I guess I just got used to meeting you near your desk. Just text me after work? Maybe we could meet up for our book club today.” He said and you swallowed the awful feeling of longing in your chest. Book club was the term you came up with when you both just wanted to sit and read together for hours. Unfortunately, you knew how book club sessions looked like since the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement.
You were sitting together in silence, reading for hours, then talked about your books until you both lost your breaths. A wonderful experience, you adored your little reading sessions, but you knew that recently they always ended with his lips on yours, and with your clothes scattered around his bedroom.
You couldn’t let this go on forever. You couldn’t go back to being just friends now, and you couldn’t keep him so close, knowing that he will never fully be yours. You pitied your poor heart.
“Sure, will do. See you around!” You were aware how awkward you sounded, but before he could stop you, you were already off to your another task of the day.
You didn’t text him after work, and neither did you reply to his message in time. The next day you send him an excuse that you were tired and fell asleep quickly, and you hoped that he believed it or didn’t care enough to question you further.
If the distance hurt you this bad now, you couldn’t even imagine how would it feel when he eventually would’ve left you for her.
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The next stage of your plan involved not answering his texts at all. You allowed yourself small replies from time to time, most often very brief, if the situation called for it. Replying excuses from left to right. Then, you incorporated not picking up his calls, especially on weekends, when he appeared to want to see you the most, because you were absent from the Association building and he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of you.
The distance you yourself put between you broke your heart, and you were getting more and more depressed by the day. Ignoring the person you loved wasn’t easy, when he was the one with whom you wanted to spend your time the most.
To distract yourself from the situation, you were trying to pass your time differently. You were meeting up with your family and friends, or you started doing things that you were putting off for ages. Everything and anything to fill the void in your heart caused by the absence of the one you loved. The absence forced by you.
It had to be done, you reminded yourself daily. You had to end this somehow, no matter how it hurt you. You had to move on. You couldn’t still be in love with him the day he would end up with MC. You knew it would ruin you.
Three weeks passed since your last meeting at the Association and you could feel that Xavier was getting impatient. His calls were more frequent. His messages longer. Sometimes while running away from him at work you could catch how he was scanning the room in search of you. How frustrated he seemed to be. How upset.
You understood it. You were best friends after all, and he also probably needed someone near him to help him get his head clear of MC. You knew that it must’ve been hard for him. But you were sure you were doing the right thing, that’s why you kept avoiding him during the past month, and not only it was the longest period you’ve been away from each other since the start of your complicated arrangement, but also the longest time since the start of your friendship. Even when the times were rough, you managed to see each other at least once or twice a week.
You felt the pain of the distance too. Missing him almost every second of the day. But you had your reasons. You didn’t want to try to satiate the hunger he felt for another woman anymore.
So every time his name appeared on your phone screen, along with the picture of him shoving two muffins into his mouth at the same time, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and waited out the signal, simultaneously praying for and dreading the silence.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
On a quiet rainy day, after a month of ignoring almost every attempt to make contact from Xavier, you heard your phone ping thrice. You sighed and put the book you were reading down, deciding that it was a good moment to reply something short to him in order to slightly ease his worries, and make him feel less alarmed. You wanted distance, but you still sticked to responding from time to time, to appear casual. To let the connection break off less abruptly.
xavier: why cant I see U at all recently.
xavier: why are U not picking up my calls and not replying to my texts.
xavier: are U hiding from me?
you: Of course not, just busy.
xavier: busy for me but not busy for others I know U are going out all the time.
xavier: are U mad at me? did I do something wrong.
you: No, you didn’t, don’t worry. It’s just me. I have a lot of things on my mind recently.
xavier: could U please have me on Ur mind too? I miss U.
xavier: so bad it hurts
You let out a rugged breath, and decided to stop responding, but then another text came. This time, making your blood run cold.
xavier: going back from a rough mission right now i think i need help.
you: Oh my god, are you okay? Are you injured?
xavier: cant tell U why dont you come and see me for Urself.
you: Fine, I need to see if you’re okay. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? I will pick something up on my way there.
xavier: i just need U
You closed your eyes and hid your face in your palms, then swore it would be the last time. You will go in, treat his wounds and go out. It had to be the last time you allowed yourself to be this close to him, and then you had to cut him off completely. A month wasn’t enough to heal your broken heart, and these small sightings won’t make your heart feel any less burdened.
It had to end today.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
When the door opened, he managed to take your breath away once more.
First, only figuratively. His beauty always managed to amaze you. He looked so handsome no matter the circumstances, his hair so fluffy and shiny, his face like that of an angel, with sharp jawline and soft, pink lips almost screaming at you to be kissed. When you met his eyes, you almost gasped at the intensity of his deep blue gaze. There wasn’t a thing about him you didn’t miss terribly after so much time apart.
Then, literally, when the first thing he did was grabbing your hand and hugging you tightly to his chest, that was still clothed in his hunter uniform. He pressed his face into the crown of your hair and touched the nape of your neck, holding it gently with his cold hand.
“Was the mission that difficult?” You asked, thinking that his reaction to you was mostly due to his need for someone else’s closeness. The need for security. “Were you in danger?” You asked quietly, fear bubbling in your mind.
“No. I lied.” He murmured and you felt him squeezing you even harder, inhaling your scent with content. His hand started stroking your back, slowly making its way under your thin coat. “Didn’t know what else to say to make you come see me.” He said and you hoped that he couldn’t hear, nor feel the sound of your erratic heartbeat.
He shouldn’t say things like these, it made you feel too hopeful. You tried to push that feeling down, knowing that’s how he normally acted with you, his best friend. You knew that he didn’t have a lot of people beside him, thus he treasured the ones that stayed. And that thought made you so incredibly apologetic that you had to swallow the tension in your throat. You hated that you fell for him so hard. You hated that you had to leave him because of it. You hated that you knew, that he would blame himself when you’ll leave.
And you started to hate yourself the most because of all of it.
“Did you miss me that much?” You teased, trying to calm yourself with a friendly banter.
“Yes.” The answer was immediate. The kiss he placed on your temple as natural as breathing. “Everything and everyone seems to be taking you away from me these days.” He said and you could hear him sulking. Your heart squeezed again, but you knew that you were doing the right thing. The distance was necessary.
Necessary for you to avoid breaking. You had to protect yourself first, you decided. You couldn’t remain in love with him forever. You had to move on and in order to do that you had to keep the distance. Which was impossible with him around, when he craved physical touch so badly.
You started to be so mad at yourself for breaking your streak today. You didn’t realize how touchy he will be after some time apart and it was getting to your head. You were so conflicted. You felt too much, and that was always the case when you were around him.
He was in love with someone else. Your head was screaming loudly, trying to calm the wave of unwanted emotions.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. I love you, you thought. “But now I’m here, so maybe I can inspect you for any injuries? You always seem to neglect them as long as they don’t make you bleed out.” You managed to free yourself from his hold and missed how his hands went after you for a second. He didn’t want you to put distance between you two. Not yet, not ever.
He looked into your beautiful, shiny eyes and nodded without a thought. He couldn’t say no to you, not when he saw the still remaining hint of worry in them. Besides, checking for injuries always came with physical contact, and he was so starved. He needed to feel your body close to his. Your hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He felt addicted and craved some kind of relief. He looked after you like a lost puppy, following your footsteps closely, touching the familiar material of your coat that you left on a counter. The distance this past month made him feral, every part of his body screamed to hold you and don’t let go.
You sat down on his couch, and patted the place next to you, hinting at him to sit beside you. He was trying not to appear too eager while doing so, and also when he started taking off the upper part of his uniform. He was almost shaking with excitement knowing that you really came to see him. That you were worried about him. The distance was making him sick. Furious. Desperate. Hurt.
He suppressed a shudder when you touched his shoulder and peeled away the material off his back completely. Your hands were pleasantly warm, as always. He bit his lip trying not to gasp from the contact.
He needed more.
“Xavier.” He hummed, giddy inside upon finally hearing his name from your lips. He was bracing for your outburst. Couldn’t wait for it. “You said you lied about the mission being hard, while having a fucking gash on your back? I-I can’t believe you...” He heard your angry, shaky voice and smirked unintentionally. You were worried about him and he liked that. He liked the attention, when it was coming from you.
Yet, you didn’t know that.
You cursed under your breath and went to grab the first aid kit from one of his drawers, and proceeded to patch the man back up, having no idea that he allowed the Wanderer to injure him, to have an excuse to see you. To keep you with him for a minute longer, even if it was only under the pretense of tending to his injuries. He was ready to do anything at this point to keep you from slipping away from his grasp.
If you knew that, you wouldn’t be so adamant on distancing yourself.
But because you didn’t know, you also didn’t predict that after patching him up, he would propose you to eat dinner with him, making up an excuse that he didn’t want to be alone with his pain. Later, when you wanted to come back to your place, he mentioned he wanted to play kitty cards, the game you adored. You couldn’t refuse him.
During the next hours you spent at his place you both talked in the same way you always used to - about everything and anything, exchanging opinions, stories and everyday thoughts. You laughed together for the first time in weeks, and your cheeks hurt from how much he was able to make you smile. You always had so much fun with him, he was your favorite person in the whole world. You missed him so bad, despite knowing that you couldn’t back out from your plan fully. Yet, you allowed yourself a little break, telling yourself that it was in order for your distancing to not look suspicious. In addition, he was injured, and you felt the need to comfort him in any way you could. The gash on his back wasn’t that deep, but it worried you regardless.
The atmosphere changed drastically only when he managed to win the next round of kitty cards. You jokingly frowned at him, forging displeasure, and he looked directly at your pounting lips. The time seemed to stop when you noticed that look. He raised his hand to touch your collarbone, caressing it with his fingers, up to your neck and over your cheek. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you noticed how dark his became. You found it fascinating that his soft gaze could change so drastically in a matter of seconds.
His hand reached out to grab your chin and brought your face closer to his. And when he whispered: “Could I ask for a reward?” with that dangerous, needy voice of his, you knew that you couldn’t deny him anything.
When your lips touched, you decided that it will be the last time you let it happen. It would be your goodbye, before loosing the feel of his touch. You thought that you could at least make the best of it, get lost in the artificial feeling of being treasured for the last time, before you started the last phase of your plan.
After that, you had to cut off the ties with him completely. No matter the measures. No matter the pain.
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“Xavier, m-maybe not today?” You asked when you realized how low he was going with his kisses. You knew what he was about to do, and you hated how much you couldn’t contain the sounds that were coming out of your mouth when he was doing it. Besides, it didn’t feel like a mutual pleasure anymore, it felt like an act of service and you were not sure you wanted him to pleasure only you.
He looked at you, having already dropped to his knees. He looked ruined, his hair already a mess from the touch of your fingers, lips wet and swollen, shirt off displaying his toned chest, bandaged in the center with caution. He was practically heaving. The sight made you blush.
“Why not?” He voice sounded whiny, his lips already kissing the inside of your thigh as if he couldn’t restrain himself. Every kiss send electricity to your already wet core and you found it hard to think clearly. His hands were grabbing your tights possessively, relishing in their softness. “Please, let me eat you out. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” The pleading in his eyes was so apparent. So unfiltered.
“Don’t you want to get to the point already?” You offered shyly and he huffed out a laugh.
“Where are you trying to run off to this time?” It sounded like a joke, but he appeared annoyed. “Relax, starlight and let me take care of you. Please.” You still hesitated. It made him pout. “I need it, please, star. I want to taste you so bad. I didn’t manage to last time.” He kissed your knee and put his head on it, looking for the answer in your unsure eyes. “Will you let me?” His pleading tone, along with his desperate gaze was what made you break. You whispered a soft confirmation and it was all it took before he quickly put his mouth on your core, licking vigorously, devouring you like the most delicious thing on the planet.
“Mmmm.” You heard him humming, before your own cries, along with the constant tremble of your legs, drowned out any other sound.
He was elated.
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“Mmmh— Yes. Yes. H—holy—” He whimpered at the same time with his thrusts and squeezed your waist harder, moving his hands up and down your back, caressing it affectionately. “You are s-so warm, so beautiful, fuck—” He moaned when you tightened on him. You stiffed a whimper and tried to commit to memory the touch of his strong hands.
He was taking you slowly from behind and the pace was almost unbearable for you. You needed more, and you couldn’t stand how romantic it felt when he was this gentle with you. However, at the same time you didn’t want him to strain himself, you were aware that the slow pace was reasonable due to the injury on his back. The slow pace did surprise you either way, you thought that after so much time apart he would be quick and rough, chasing his pleasure faster than he normally would. Instead, he acted even more passionately than usual.
The slow pace brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t contain the sounds escaping from your lips. He kept pressing your most sensitive spots, his thrusts slow, deep and precise. His forehead rest on the back of your shoulder, and you could feel his hot, labored breath pressing against your damp skin.
He made you feel so appreciated, and so cared for, and that made you uneasy. More so, with the accompaniment of the things he was constantly saying to you, from the moment you allowed him to touch you today.
“Can you turn around now? Please, my star, I want to see you.” He half-whispered and started kissing your neck, then moving his mouth to every patch of your skin he could reach: your shoulders, back, arms. No place was left unkissed under his relentless lips. You shook your head no, you didn’t want to let this become even more passionate than it already was. You positioned yourself facing the headboard of the bed from the very beginning, and you were adamant to keep your stance up until the end. You feared that your eyes would betray you, displaying your feelings for him and that was what made you not lose your composure.
Upon hearing your refusal for the third time this night, he proceeded to voice his frustrations by grunting, and thrust into you a little harder. You moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden change of tempo.
“Please, starlight.” He begged, his voice achingly earnest. He picked up the pace and you almost choked with how deep he reached inside of you now. You thought that you could never get used to how big he was, his girth filling you up to the brim. “Turn around. T-turn around for me.”
“X-xavier slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt—” You managed to choke out, grasping sheets with your hands for some kind of stability. You closed your eyes when they were turning upwards, biting your lip in the process. He felt otherworldly, but you couldn’t help but think about the gash on his back. He shouldn’t strain himself.
“Then turn around and look at me.” He repeated and you shook your head again.
“I-I can’t, I—Ah—”
“W-why do you keep—Mmh—denying me?” His voice came out like a growl and he kept up the fast tempo. Then, he grabbed your shoulder and put his other hand on your lower back, making you bend over more. His thrusts got even faster, making you moan louder. “Like that. Yes.” You breathed quietly. So good. He was so, so good. “I just want to see your face. I need to kiss y—A—Ah—Kiss you so bad, so, so, so bad.” He thrusted more deeply, making you involuntarily back out from the stimulation, your body almost collapsing, but he quickly grabbed you with his strong arms, and brought you even closer to him. You saw stars and touched one of the arms that held your whole body — from your waist, between your breasts, to your neck. His arm was so hard, so strong. He was huge compared to you. “No, n-no, don’t run away, star. You feel so good—G-God how I missed this—” He held you closer by the second, pressing more kisses to your shoulders, his thrusts becoming quicker, less deep. You were holding back your tears from how good he felt inside you. “I missed you. I missed you. I miss you.” He started babbling and that’s how you knew he was close.
To your surprise, he suddenly pulled out of you completely and grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around to finally face him. Before you could show any signs of protest, he lowered himself onto his forearms, caging your head between his biceps so that he could have a perfect view of your face. He took his cock in one of his hands and he slipped himself into you again with ease. You shuddered and cried out softly with astonishment.
“Xavier—!”
“Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” He started thrusting into you again, this time much slower and more attentive, and looked deep into your eyes. You had nowhere to run, the only thing you could do was to close your eyes, but the sight of him so close made you want to never look away. “Say it one more time. Just once.” He looked ethereal, his silver hair wet from the perspiration that gathered oh his forehead, and his cheeks painted a pretty shade of red. You could see how blissful he felt. “So p-pretty.” He finally kissed your lips softly. “So sweet.” He licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss. It made your toes curl, you loved when he kissed you this sloppily. When he released your already swollen lips, there was a string of saliva connecting you. It was all so intense.
“Why were you denying my kisses?” He kissed you again deeply, sucking on your tongue. His slow thrusts made you go insane. “You don’t like kissing me like this?” He sucked on your lips until they were red and swollen. There was so much saliva. He licked them and kissed them again. “I could come from this feeling alone. So soft.” You were shocked at how much he talked. Was he always this talkative? Or were you realizing it only now, when you knew that the closeness with him would soon come to an end?
“Am I making you feel good? Yeah?” You decided to nod at him truthfully, your moans short, resembling small hiccups. You were lost in the pleasure, you could feel the end approaching. He put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “W—wow, you—you sound so adorable, I won’t last long—” He moaned and grabbed your face in his hands, kissing your nose first, then softly your lips.
“Yes, yeah, let go. Let go my little star. My starlight, my treasure.” He whispered into your ear, feeling you clench down on him as you came with his name on your lips. You felt him reaching the end quickly after you, he shuddered, his mouth opened, and he released into the condom with a low moan. Still cumming, he took your face into his hands and kissed your forehead gently. When you both were still coming down from the high, breathing heavily, he began stroking your hair, pushing it out of your face, and kissing your cheeks.
What in the world was all that?
God, you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t let this keep up, it felt too real, too romantic, and your heart really couldn’t take it. Not when every time you were together like this you keep thinking that he would like you to be someone else instead. Did he imagined her under him this time? You trembled, scared because of that thought, but the things he was saying made you feel that it really could be the case.
Your breath came out shakily and you took his muscular forearms in your palms and grazed them gently with your thumbs. You let yourself feel for the last time how warm his body was, how pleasurable his weight on top of you. You kept your eyes closed to not let him see your tears, but you couldn’t stop one from going down your cheek.
And of course he saw it as soon as it appeared. He seemed to always look at you when you wanted him to ignore you the most.
He kissed it off, swiped the wetness with his thumb and proceeded to kiss your temple.
“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I hurt you?” He appeared so concerned, and you felt the shivers going down your spine.
Yes, you wanted to scream.
“No, of course not.” You said instead. Because it was your fault for feeling too much. “I’m okay, just tired.” You lied straight to his face. He send you a small smile and kissed your closed eyelids gently.
And when he shifted and pulled out from you slowly with a little hiss, you let out a sigh and knew that your time with him had to end now.
But before you could lift yourself up, he hugged you from the side and put his head on your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and you already knew that it had a soothing effect on him. His hand started caressing one side of your waist, his hair touching your chin, his scent overlapping you. You could feel his heartbeat on you, fast but steady. Another tear escaped from your eyes. You had to run away. You couldn’t take the closeness anymore. It was too painful.
“Xavier, I—” You swallowed the sob forming in your throat. Your voice came out rusty. “I really need to go.”
“Already? Stay with me for a little while longer.” He squeezed you harder to himself, showing no intention of releasing you from his hold. You hated that you needed to cut short such a vulnerable moment with him. “The night is still young. I thought we could maybe watch something together? Or bake these cinnamon cookies you like? I practiced, they taste and look almost perfect now.” You closed your eyes hard, moved by his thoughtfulness, and you almost sobbed audibly if it wasn’t for your hand quickly covering your mouth.
But he felt it, and it made all the muscles in his body tighten, as if he was struck.
“Star?” He loosed his hold on you and quickly studied your face. “What’s wrong?” His eyes became huge, filled with worry. And that concern on his features was what finally made you run.
You raised gently and pushed yourself from him, starting to pick up your scattered pieces of clothing. Your hands shakily put the panties and your sweater on your trembling body, not once looking Xavier’s way. He was waiting patiently for your answer.
“I can’t do this anymore, Xavier.” You replied, feeling more comfortable now that you had some clothes on. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you heard him standing up from the bed.
“Do what?” He sounded puzzled. You heard him grabbing and putting on some pants hastily, clicking his belt in place. As if he was preparing to run after you. “Did I do something wrong? You didn’t like it today? Was I too intense?” You had never heard him speak so quickly, and the panic in his tone was a rare occurrence too.
“No, it’s— I am at fault here.” You answered truthfully, and you took a couple steps away from him. You wanted to run as fast as you could but for the love of God, you couldn’t locate any other pieces of your clothing. Your eyesight was clouded by unleashed tears. No, not now, you couldn’t let them fall until you were in the safety of your home.
“But you were perfect.” His voice carried more panic by the second. “We could change some things. You could tell me what to do differently, everything works with me as long as I do it with you.”
You suddenly remembered the beginning of your night, and rushed to his living room, were you finally found your pants.
“No. No, and please stop trying to persuade me. This—this friends with benefits thing, it ends now.” You uttered surely, now fully clothed. You turned around and finally laid your eyes on him, and saw him wearing only black jeans and a miserable expression on his face. God, he still looked perfect. He almost shined, the workout clearly visible on his face, his hair, his lips. Your resolution almost wavered.
“Okay. Okay, of course, I—I understand.” He answered quickly, and you felt a slight pang in your chest at how easily he took the news. This whole time you were so easily disposable. “But please stay. I want to spend some time with you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He took a careful step towards you, and you wanted to bolt then and there. “Please, stay.”
“No, Xai, I—” You paused to take a breath, trying not to crumble in front of him. His worried expression felt like a knife to your chest. You were his best friend, yet here you were, clearly wanting to run away from him—how could you expect him to feel anything but hurt upon such a sight? You felt incredibly cruel. “I really can’t. I think I need a break from all—all of this.”
“You mean from me?” He didn’t wait for your answer, the thoughts in his head seemed to go quicker than lightning. “No, please, I swear that if you don’t like it then I won’t touch you anymore. I swear.” You hated how upset he sounded. You closed your eyes for a second and fresh tears slipped away. You couldn’t keep them from falling anymore. “You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me stay away.” He looked as if you were tearing his heart out, his posture slumped, hands shaking. How you wished you could take them into your own and warm them up.
“I have to.” Your voice came out whiny. He stepped closer to you, keeping his arms in front of himself.
“But why?” His question was quiet, nearly a whisper. He couldn’t help but wonder, if you really wanted a break from him, then why were you crying as if you didn’t want to go?
“I—” You stopped yourself before going as far as to utter a confession. He couldn’t know. Not now. Not ever. “This— This situation, and how our friendship looks like right now it’s—it’s so wrong.” You opted for a response that was the closest to the truth.
“It’s not.” He replied immediately. “Not for me.”
“Well it is for me. Friends don’t sleep with each other, Xavier! We messed up so bad this time and I’m afraid we can’t let this past us.”
“Do you regret it that much?” His voice was losing its’ strength, and he seemed so utterly hurt. Meanwhile, you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling even more pain. How could you make him understand without confessing to him? You didn’t really know because you were always honest with him before. He was your safe place.
And to think that everything could be avoided, your friendship left unscratched if only you could control your feelings better. But you had no idea how to stop loving him so deeply, when he was everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.
“I should. I know that I should, it was never going to end well, I—”
“Stay. Please, starlight, stay. At least for one more night, let me hold you just for one more—” His arms went out to grab you and you flinched, taking a few steps back. His jaw tightened.
He was always afraid that he will see you run away from his touch. He felt as if his nightmare became reality - the thought of loosing you too much for him to bear.
“Xavier, I can’t!” You trembled all over. Why did he make this so hard for you? “I can’t do this with you anymore, can’t you understand how much it hurts me?” The truth was at the tip of your tongue, craving to be spoken out loud.
“Why? Why does it hurt you? The only one who has a good reason to be hurt is me, you avoided me, ignored me, and for what? If you just talked to me honestly one time—”
“You are in love with someone else!”
The silence that followed was unbearable and seemed to last ages. Slow ticking of the clock was the only thing cutting through the tension, reminding you that the time didn’t stop, even if your heart seemed to do so.
You turned to him, the tears falling from your eyes in cascades now and your chest was coming up and down rapidly with how fast you were breathing.
The tears run down your cheeks quickly, making your vision less blurry. How you wished that they stayed in place, if that meant that you wouldn’t have to see Xavier’s pained expression, that quickly changed into one of utter confusion. You were shaking with how much you were feeling, your frustration pooling out of you in a form of shaking hands and bitten lips.
“I can’t continue being like this with you when I know that you’re in love with her! And I get it! I really do. She’s so wonderful, and so, so lovable. And I could never be her, no matter how much you would want me to be. I just don’t want to be a replacement anymore.” You continued, the desperation in your voice almost making you wince. You sounded pathetic and felt so embarrassed for it. You felt as if you were loosing the ground beneath your feet.
“What?” He said completely stunned. He wasn’t moving a single muscle. “What on earth are you talking about?” He hissed, and took a step towards you, and when you shook your head and wanted to bolt through the door, he quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pressed your body close to his. You gasped at the contact, so sudden and forced. “No, stop running away from me!” He raised his voice, still holding your wrist tightly. You’ve never heard him sound so irritated. “Speak.” You kept your head low, when he was desperately trying to catch eye contact, but you couldn’t look at him right now. Not when your true feelings were basically flowing to the surface.
“About what? You really thought I didn’t know about your feelings for her?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking. “Xavier, I know, and I knew from the very beginning, and you really don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really understand.” You tried to free your wrist from his grasp, but he held it too tightly. You needed to run, this conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t even have a reason to be mad at him. You couldn’t blame him for not loving you romantically, nor for feeling this way towards someone else. You were only friends, and friends should be happy for each other when they find someone dear to them, not sick of the idea of loosing the other to someone else.
“I’m afraid you actually don’t understand anything.” He sounded almost defeated. His voice back to it’s soft tone, but his hold on you unrelenting.
“It’s really okay, I—”
“No.” He scoffed. You finally gained enough courage to let your eyes meet his and you were instantly appalled at how furious he appeared to be. “It’s truly NOT.” He released your wrist and put his hands up to stroke his hair back. He breathed out loudly. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and irritation taking over his features completely. You never saw him wear that expression while talking with you.
“Oh, don’t make me—” You cut off, seeing his furious glare. You took a deep breath, stepped back from him and touched your cheek, trying to swipe the wetness caused by your tears. You failed, they were still coming down, one by one, making your efforts futile. “MC. You know that I mean MC.”
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands for a second, and when he looked at you again, you couldn’t read his expression correctly. “Who told you about it? Where did you get it from?”
“Jeremiah.” That’s all he needed to know. And apparently it was enough for him to grasp the situation. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, his hands squeezed tightly into fists by his sides.
“I will strangle him this time. I swear, I will—”
“Oh, please, Xavier, stop! What’s so wrong about me knowing? I was glad that someone finally enlightened me!” You couldn’t believe that he was so angry at you for knowing such an important thing. Not when from the moment Jeremiah said that he had a thing for MC for a long time, you wondered why he kept that a secret from you. “You never even said a word about it even though I thought we were best friends. I had to learn from someone else and that already hurt.” You wanted this conversation to be over. You wanted him to admit to it already and let you go away, with a broken, but at least free heart.
But he had different plans.
“Have you maybe thought that I never said a word about it simply because it wasn’t true?” He asked carefully, his voice still angry. “I just can’t believe you thought that I loved someone else—”
“What?” Your mind went blank. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “What do you mean it’s not true?” You sniffed quietly, confusion taking over your face.“B-But Jeremiah said that you had a past with her and—”
“I did. I had feelings for her once, but that was literal lifetimes ago!” His irritation didn’t ease in the slightest. “I had feelings for someone who looked similar to her. But she’s not the same person anymore, and even if she was I couldn’t possibly fall in love with her. Not now, not ever.” You stopped in your tracks, trying to analyze everything he was saying to you and failing miserably at it. You looked at his face, your expression puzzled, searching for an answer there, hidden between his beautiful, soft features. It shocked you to see that now he started to calm himself down, gaze genuine, an image of complete transparency.
You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that you were mistaken. All this time, when you thought you never stood a chance, when you thought that he loved another, when you wanted to let him go—
“You’re not in love with MC.” It wasn’t a question anymore, your voice quiet while you were trying to process that thought. He must’ve seen how you fought with the thoughts inside your head, because he released a groan and took a step towards you. You unintentionally took one step back. He frowned.
“Of course I’m not.” Voice sweet like honey, stance sure, his eyes searched desperately for yours. He looked at your face, covered in tears and his eyebrows furrowed deeper, hating how upset you seemed and didn’t know how to reverse it. “How could I ever be, when your face is all I can see, every time I close my eyes?” He uttered looking at you with such devotion that it almost made your knees buckle.
Complete silence took over your thoughts after his confession. You didn’t know what was happening.
But fortunately, his mind finally started to piece everything together in a picture, that although was beyond frustrating to think about, was giving him so much hope for something he thought he already lost.
He allowed himself to relax, took a deep breath and finally decided to drop his inner shackles, letting his emotions flow out of him without restraint.
“You are the one that I love.” He said clearly, not moving a muscle. He wondered if you could see the quick movement of his chest, with how hard his heart was trying to escape through it to reach you. Whereas, you felt as if yours stopped moving completely, along with the time around you, not ready to believe that this was truly happening. “It was you from the very beginning. I adored you since the day I first saw you.” He continued, his gaze piercing into your face, slight confusion visible on his features. “And I thought that was obvious? I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my feelings, especially after I told you about them the first night we spend together.”
You blinked slowly. Once, then twice.
Your head hurt. You couldn’t wrap it around everything he was saying. Xavier was in love with you? And he already told you about it? You were so confused that the only way you knew how to react was with denial.
“You—You didn’t. I didn’t know, you are not being serious.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“I did. You really don’t remember?” His tone softened, and he waited a short second for your answer, but couldn’t contain his nerves. “It was the night I kissed you for the first time, thinking that would be the last. But you reciprocated.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid even the slightest sound might interrupt the flow of his confession.
“You—You kissed me back, and let me do things to you I only ever dared to dream about before.” He took another step your way, a small smile grazing his handsome face. “And the confession slipped out of me so naturally before we even reached the bed.” He briefly recalled that fateful night, describing the conversations you forgot, but longed to remember since that very moment.
“You didn’t reply, but you responded nicely to my touch, so I thought that meant that you wanted me too, that maybe you’d accept me. As your beloved. Your soulmate.” You brought your hand to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. “But then in the morning when you woke up, you were panicking. I tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening to me.”
That part of the story you knew by heart, him telling you that he couldn’t forget, didn’t want to forget. Back then you didn’t connect it with anything close to confession, but more with the change in your relationship. You really didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, you didn’t even dream about him loving you, when you though that he loved MC. Insecurities and false assumptions completely clouded your vision.
“And when you proposed staying friends, with the bonus of intimacy, of course I took the chance. I thought you remembered my confession and didn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I was so desperate that I would take anything you were willing to give me, even if it didn’t involve your love. I—” he cut off, blush flushed over his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He took a shaky breath. “I was clinging to the hope that maybe through the new shared intimacy I could show you how much you meant to me. And maybe, maybe someday you would start feeling the same, when you realized how good we are together and how good I can be for you.”
“Xavier—Oh my god.” You breathed, your hand still covering your mouth, your eyes never leaving his face. His beautiful, starstruck face, now so full of confusion and unspoken hurt. “Bunny, I’m so, so, so sorry. I had no idea, I—” Your voice practically a whisper, you were still coming to terms with the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. And that you were the one who complicated things between you. “I don’t remember anything you said to me that night. I couldn’t even hear you through the sound of my own blood thrumming in my ears, that’s how drunk I felt. How overwhelmed after our first kiss.”
The alcohol consumed that night also wasn’t of big help. You were a lightweight and you drunk only occasionally, so the few drinks you had already made you feel dizzy. Mixed with the intensity of your emotions, it overwhelmed you so intensely that his touch was all you could remember from that night. But now you could make it all alright.
“I only remember your touch, the things we did, and our conversation the next morning. I remember touching your hand and initiating the kiss, and my tipsy brain just thought that you went with it to forget about MC.” You said truthfully, letting it all pour out of you. Your cheeks burned with the embarrassment of admitting how desperate you were for him, that the thought he loved another didn’t stop you from having sex with him.
Then the blush deepened from the realization that from the very beginning the only one he was thinking about was you.
This thought made your head spin, the happiness slowly bubbling in your chest. Your whole body trembled.
“That’s— Fuck. You really don’t remember.” He shook his head again, realizing how deep the misunderstanding reached. “You didn’t initiate anything. I was the one who kissed you first.”
“No, I—”
“Yes. You touched my hand, smiled at me contentedly and said some things and I—I just couldn’t restrain myself any longer.” This time you were the one who started approaching him slowly. You needed him close. Always. And you realized that now you didn’t have any reasons to deny yourself that lack of distance. “You looked so soft, so open and kissable, and I just went for it. And then you reciprocated.” The light in his eyes started sparkling when he noticed that you were finally coming closer to him. He reached out his hand for you and you took it gently, still shaking from the unspoken emotions.
“I can’t believe it. All this time I thought that you were in love with someone else.” His hand was warm, the touch electrifying. You squeezed his hand and intertwined your fingers together. You saw how between your clasped hands, his Evol started shining brightly, shading soft light upon your features. It was a sign that he was excited. “I tried to put a distance between us, end this intimacy because I thought that I was just a second best for you. An easy distraction.”
“How could you think that? Almost from the moment I met you, I have loved you passionately—” He brought you even closer together, pulling you by your intertwined hands, and put his other hand on your cheek. He swiped the reminder of your tears with his fingers, looking into your eyes with a devotion so apparent that it took your ability to form coherent thoughts. How did you manage to miss the way he was always looking your way?
“X-Xavier.”
“I couldn’t even think about anyone else even if I tried to. You occupy my every thought. How could I ever find a place for somebody else in my heart when you fill the space out completely?” Everything that came out of his mouth was laced with impatience. He was trying so hard to make you understand him, and the intensity of his emotions. He couldn’t psychically hold it inside anymore, he restrained himself for so long that he felt as if all of his walls finally crumbled. He needed you to know everything.
“I love you, starlight. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t contain that feeling inside anymore. I couldn’t even spend five minutes in your presence without trying to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you. My whole body longs for you constantly.” He said, thinking off the months after you started being friends with benefits. How at first he wasn’t sure how much he could take from you, and then, when he noticed that you didn’t mind the affection outside the bedroom, he couldn’t contain himself. He kissed you every time he had a chance, he touched you everywhere he could, he was trying to stay away from you as little as possible. Despite thinking that you did not reciprocate his feelings fully, his love for you flowed out of him naturally, every look and every touch laced with unconditional devotion.
During the period of your silence and avoiding him, he thought that it was because he finally crossed a line. He let his feelings out too much, he finally made you uncomfortable. He was starting to act as you lover, not as your friend and it wasn’t what you agreed to. He thought you still didn’t love him and maybe that was a sign that you never will. And even if that could be the case, he still couldn’t let you go.
And it appeared that he didn’t have to.
That you were not uncomfortable, but unsure.
That it was all a huge misunderstanding.
And the words that came out of your pretty, little mouth next, almost brought him to his knees.
“Xavier. Xavier me too, I—” You stuttered, completely overwhelmed by how much you were feeling. You squeezed his wrists, and looked deep into his beautiful, hopeful eyes. “I love you too. And I fell in love with you long before our first night together. I just thought that it was wishful thinking, because your heart was already taken by someone else. And that I could just stay beside you as your friend and that would be enough. And then share your bed from time to time, if that meant that I could hold you close, be on the receiving end of your affection.” You said and raised on your feet to place a quick kiss on his lips. He chased after you instantly, despite appearing stunned. You noticed his hands were shaking.
“You really mean it?” He asked, leaning towards you, kissing your lips again, this time for longer. He had trouble keeping his mouth away from yours, especially now, that he knew that every one of your kisses was filled with love. “Am I not dreaming this time?” You smiled and stroked his hair affectionately, petting his head, wanting to convey your feelings in every way possible.
“Xavier, I love you.” You repeated, grabbing his head in your palms and looking deep into his eyes. Your voice was strong, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I love you so mu—” He didn’t let you finish that sentence, because he quickly picked you up and spun you around, holding you in his arms. You giggled and put your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, his face buried in your neck. When he stopped, he quickly found your lips again and that kiss felt groundbreaking.
He held you close to him, one hand squeezing you by your waist, and the other holding your jaw gently. His brows furrowed in desperation and his kisses were slow, sensual, sending pleasant shocks throughout your whole body. His tongue made an appearance, and he tasted you in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. He licked into your mouth, grunting lowly, his fingers placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, then tracing patterns on your warm cheek. When you opened your eyes for a second, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. The blush spread through his cheeks too, making him look so adorable.
“It does feel like a dream.” He breathed between kisses. “And sounds too good to be true.” He captured your lips again and you smiled into his mouth. Your heart was about to burst.
“I love you.” You repeated, basking in the feeling of finally being able to say it out loud, be open with your emotions. He released your lips and kissed your forehead. You looked up, and he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a wide smile adorning his face.
“Don’t stop saying that. You make me so happy.” He said quietly, and you whispered the confession once again, making him sigh shakily.
“I was so stupid. I should’ve asked you right from the start if what Jeremiah said was true.” You said and hugged him more tightly. “I should’ve told you sooner.” You placed your head on his strong chest, your ear touching his bare body, listening to his fast heartbeat. Your hands were hugging his waist, mindful not to touch his bandaged back.
“No, I foolishly thought that telling you once would suffice. I forgot that you drank that night and that could’ve clouded your memory.” He squeezed you harder to himself and started back away with you in his arms, until the back of his legs touched his couch. He feel into it, holding you close, making you sit on his lap. “To think that I could have you sooner—” He looked into your eyes, as if searching for something.
“You had me before, and you have me now. My heart, my body, my soul.” You positioned yourself more comfortably, placing your legs on both sides of his waist, and took his face into your hands. He closed his eyes at the contact, and started to caress your body, from your waist, down to your legs. He squeezed the plush of your tights and let his head fall against the couch pillows.
He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He prayed that this wasn’t a dream, that all of the things your were telling him were true. His chest vibrated pleasurably, incredible warmth spreading through it. His heart beat so quickly, and so loudly that he thought it was the first time he felt its’ beat so intensely himself. Your words made him feel drunk with emotion.
He opened his eyes to look at your face.
He almost choked with how beautiful you were. How divine, sitting on him, caressing his shoulders, smiling at him with the stars in your eyes. He looked at your lips, full and swollen, bearing the signs of his kisses. He looked at your neck, delicate and unmarked, and he stroked it with the back of his hand, wanting to change that fact immediately, knowing that now he was allowed to do that. He switched his gaze to your eyes again and drank them in, basking in their light, wishing that this moment could never end. Or maybe it should, so it could become your new beginning.
You were his treasure. His star, his light, guiding him through life, making his existence worth pursuing. You showed him that the world can be beautiful, despite it’s overbearing cruelty. You were his salvation, his safe place, his one and only, showing him every single day that he mattered, that he was not a lost cause, or a villain in disguise. You taught him that he was capable of loving so intensely and now, that he was loved as passionately in return.
He doubted his worth, but the only way he knew to prove his love for you was by protecting you with his very life. You had no idea, but his sword, now a symbol of your bond, was yours to command—and you were the only reason he continued to wield it.
“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was not more than a whisper, your eyes still looking into his starry ones, losing yourself in the deep blue. You loved them, how magnificent and expressive they were, and you swore to yourself to tell him about it every day.
He seemed to get out of the trace he was in, and his eyes softened, still taking you in. He smiled and took your hands into his, and kissed your knuckles, his kisses gentle and long-lasting.
“You.” He replied shortly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He put your hands on his shoulders, making you hug his neck with them. You complied and put your whole arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer. One of his hands touched your waist, caressing it delicately, and the other one stroked your hair, admiring its’ softness. His eyes never left yours. “Always you, my starlight. Then, now, and till the end of my days. I will always carry you in my mind, and in my heart, to be able to reach you, no matter the distance.” You could feel his breath on your face with how close you were to each other, and he gazed at your open lips, which were already waiting to be kissed senselessly. “I love you, as I never loved anyone else in my life, and I never will again.” His lips captured yours in a kiss so soft, yet so desperate, and full of adoration, that you felt a single, happy tear escape from your eye. He deepened the kiss and held you throughout the night, kissing you and touching you, never wanting the moment to end, the warmth of your skin to become a memory.
It all started with the simplest of touches, and it never truly ended. The spark you ignited that first night has never faded. Since the moment you met, it has burned brightly between you both, a light so powerful that it could be seen across the vastness of deep space. Everlasting and exquisite, just like the different lifetimes you both had ahead of you, always finding each other, as if guided by it’s warmth.
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thank you for your time and please let me know if you liked it!! i was thinking of writing more for this au, maybe from xavier’s perspective? how they met and how he fell in love + how their first night really played out ♡
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orphicmusings · 3 days ago
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this is so self indulgent but i love the idea of modern!viktor with reader who is more artistic/humanities inclined rather than stem…museum dates are a staple, obviously, whether they’re art or history, you walk hand in hand and sit on the little benches when you need a break and talk about your favorite parts (he loves seeing artifacts and antiques!!!) and he loves that he gets to hear you gush about each subject you come across and watch your eyes flicker with absolute light as you learn more and more, the passion for it being the best thing the two of you share other than your love for each other.
and then he’ll take you to one of those science discovery places, and he loves to freak you out with gnarly facts and will spend an hour in the planetarium with you if they let you, mapping out the constellations in the dim light in your own little journals, pretending you’re ancient astrologers. one time, on a particularly slow day, due to the relaxing music and general ambience, you both had fallen asleep in there— your head on his shoulder, his head on top of yours, and a staff member found you about a half hour before closing.
spoiling your partner with fine things such as designer clothes and jewelry is great, and he would if you wanted it, but to him? the most fun he’ll ever have spoiling you is watching you go absolutely ham in a bookstore. following behind you through the shelves with a basket to collect your pile, and you making sure you’re picking out a few you can read together (you reading aloud to him to get his mind to quiet down enough for him for fall asleep—he loves jane austen). seeing you geek out over limited edition covers of classics, dracula, frankenstein (which you affectionately call him, viktor frankenstein, when he is particularly too stubborn to leave his lab), greek myths, shakespeare, even if you already have a copy, he’ll buy you this one simply because it looks better on your joint bookshelf.
and if you ever doubt your intelligence in comparison to his? after trying to figure out something mathematical and handing it to him and him getting it done within seconds? even muttering a “right, sorry, i’m stupid” as a kneejerk reaction to existing in a lifetime of academic settings where stem is prioritized as The Smart People Subject and the humanities are only there as frivolous endeavors— will earn you the most disappointed look. “do not talk about yourself like that, my darling. i mean it.” he tells you firmly, getting more annoyed at you putting yourself down than he ever would with you asking him for help. oh, and if you were feeling particularly self deprecating and decided to go back at him?
god have mercy on you as he has you reading and retaining information from dense texts to him as he’s buried between your thighs, just to prove you can do what he couldn’t.
“mhm, and what have we learned?”
“that…” you caught your breath. “orpheus actually proved he loved eurydice by-“
“no.” he chided gently with a breathy smirk of his own. “that my love is entirely capable, and skilled, the most clever little darling i know…yes?”
you can’t stop the bashful smile that pulls at your lips and the heat that dusts your cheeks when you answer in affirmation.
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scoupsakakitty · 3 days ago
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Hi!! I have an idea for Jeonghan. You know The8's song Cold love. (It's my favorite).
The idea is this. The reader has a crush on him, even tho there in the same group (pls idol au), But he's cold, and distant to her/them.
It can be either a fluffy or angsty ending, with her leaving the group of them ending up together.
The reader can be Gn, or female I don't mind any.
I Love your writing, it brings me comfort 🫶
Cold Love | idol!Jeonghan x 14thmember!Reader | angst, fluff
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The sun dipped behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The secluded cabin where Seventeen had gathered felt warm and lively, but to Y/N, it felt anything but.
She sat on the wooden deck, looking out at the calm lake that stretched before her. It was supposed to be a relaxing trip a short break before Jeonghan left for the military in a few months. Everyone had been excited about it, especially since they hadn’t had much downtime lately. But for Y/N, this trip had been nothing but painful.
She glanced back toward the large glass windows of the cabin. The rest of the group was inside, laughing and playing games, but her eyes were fixed on one person Jeonghan. He was sitting at the dining table, smiling at something Mingyu said. That smile was the reason she had fallen for him in the first place. It was soft, warm, and made her feel safe.
But lately, he hadn’t shown that side to her.
Not once.
Instead, he had been cold. Distant. Unkind.
Her chest tightened as she turned back toward the lake, hugging her knees. She wanted to believe there was a reason for his behavior some explanation that made sense but she was tired of waiting for answers.
“Y/N?”
She flinched at the sound of her name and quickly wiped at her eyes before turning to see Joshua approaching her.
“You okay?” he asked, crouching beside her.
“Yeah,” she lied.
Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you’ve been out here for almost an hour, and you missed dinner.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“Not hungry, or avoiding someone?” Joshua’s voice was gentle, but his words hit her hard.
She didn’t answer.
“You know,” he said, sitting down next to her, “whatever’s going on between you and Jeonghan, you should talk to him about it. The tension’s so thick it’s making the rest of us uncomfortable.”
Y/N let out a humorless laugh. “There is no ‘me and Jeonghan.’ He made that very clear.”
Joshua hesitated before speaking again. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Then why does he act like I don’t exist?” Her voice cracked.
Joshua frowned but didn’t push any further. Instead, he stood and offered her a hand. “Come inside. It’s getting cold.”
She took his hand and let him pull her up, but her heart sank as she caught Jeonghan’s gaze through the window. For just a moment, something flashed in his eyes worry? Pain? But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he looked away.
————————————————————————————-
Dinner had ended, and the group gathered in the living room for games. Y/N sat quietly in the corner, barely paying attention as the others laughed and teased each other. She tried to join in, but her mind kept drifting back to Jeonghan.
It wasn’t fair. She had poured her heart out to him months ago, told him how she felt. And he had rejected her not with words, but with silence and distance.
It hurt more than she ever thought it could.
“Y/N, it’s your turn,” Seungkwan said, snapping her out of her thoughts.
She blinked. “What?”
“We’re playing charades. Your turn.”
“Oh… okay.”
She stood awkwardly, trying to focus, but the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her and Jeonghan sitting just across the room made her panic.
“I can’t. Sorry.” She quickly sat down again, her cheeks burning.
“Are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, concerned.
“I’m fine,” she said, but the tears threatening to spill told a different story.
Jeonghan shifted in his seat, his fists clenched. He wanted to say something to do something but he couldn’t. The management’s warning echoed in his head. No relationships. No scandals. If he stepped out of line, she could be kicked out of the group.
But seeing her like this, breaking apart because of him, was unbearable.
“Y/N.” His voice was sharp.
She froze, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Can I talk to you? Outside?”
The room fell silent, everyone’s eyes darting between the two of them.
“No,” Y/N snapped.
Jeonghan flinched. “Y/N—”
“No!” She stood up, her voice rising. “You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to ignore me, push me away, and then suddenly decide you want to talk when it’s convenient for you!”
The other members stared in shock as her voice cracked with emotion.
“Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?” she cried. “You know how I feel, and you couldn’t even be kind to me. If you don’t like me, fine! But at least treat me like a human being!”
Jeonghan opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Forget it,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. She turned and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.
————————————————————————————-
The night was quiet, but Jeonghan couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as her words replayed in his head.
You don’t get to do this.
Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?
If you don’t like me, fine!
He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t let her believe that. He couldn’t let her go to sleep thinking she wasn’t loved because she was. More than anything.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he left his room and walked to hers.
He hesitated at the door, hearing her muffled sobs. His heart shattered.
Knock. Knock.
“Y/N,” he said softly. “It’s me.”
There was no response.
“Please,” he whispered. “Let me in.”
After a long pause, the door opened.
Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked exhausted.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I need to explain,” he said. “Please.”
She stepped aside, and he walked in, closing the door behind him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“I don’t hate you,” Jeonghan finally said. “I never have.”
Y/N crossed her arms. “Then why?”
“Because I was scared.” His voice was raw. “The management they told me that if we got involved, they’d kick you out of the group. And I couldn’t risk that. Not for me, and not for you.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “So instead, you decided to treat me like I didn’t matter?”
“I thought it would be easier,” he admitted. “I thought pushing you away would protect both of us. But all I’ve done is hurt you—and I hate myself for it.”
Y/N’s breath hitched.
“I love you, Y/N,” he said softly. “I always have.”
Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward and kissed him.
Jeonghan froze, shocked, but when she pulled away, embarrassed, he caught her hand.
“Wait.”
He cupped her face and kissed her deeply, pouring everything he felt into that one moment.
When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said. “Together.”
Tears streamed down her face, but this time, they were happy tears.
“Okay,” she whispered.
————————————————————————————-
Y/N sat nervously in the practice room, her hands clenched into fists as she faced Seungcheol. He looked at her like she had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.
“You want to what?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, but there was also concern in his eyes.
“I want to leave the group,” Y/N repeated, this time louder. Her voice still shook, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “It’s the only way.”
“The only way for what?” he demanded, crossing his arms.
“For Jeonghan and me to be together,” she said softly, looking down.
Seungcheol froze. “…What?”
Y/N swallowed hard, feeling her chest tighten. “The management said if we get into a relationship, I’ll be kicked out of the group. Not him. Me.”
Seungcheol stared at her, completely silent for a moment. Then he burst out, “And you just accepted that?!”
“What else am I supposed to do, Seungcheol?” she snapped, her voice breaking. “Let them ruin his career? Let them destroy everything he’s worked for? I can’t do that to him!”
“And you think he’d be okay with you giving up your career instead?” he shot back. “Do you think Jeonghan would ever forgive himself if you left because of him?”
Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.
Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not leaving. We’re going to fix this.”
“How?”
“Simple,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re going to the management, and we’re going to make it clear that this isn’t happening. You’re staying in Seventeen.”
———————————————————————————-
Y/N sat beside Seungcheol in the cold, sterile meeting room. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart pounded so loudly she was sure the managers could hear it.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.
“Let’s get straight to the point,” he said as soon as the managers sat down. “We need to talk about Y/N.”
One of the managers raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”
“This rule you’ve made,” Seungcheol said, his voice sharp. “The one where you’ll kick her out of the group if she dates Jeonghan. It’s ridiculous, and it’s not happening.”
The managers exchanged glances. “We’ve already discussed this with her.”
“And now you’re going to discuss it with me,” Seungcheol shot back. “You don’t get to ruin someone’s career because they fell in love.”
“This isn’t about punishment,” one manager said stiffly. “It’s about protecting the group’s reputation.”
“Reputation?” Seungcheol laughed bitterly. “What reputation? SEVENTEEN’s reputation isn’t built on scandals or dating bans. It’s built on talent, hard work, and loyalty. And you want to throw all of that away by forcing Y/N out?”
Another manager leaned forward. “This is standard in the industry—”
“I don’t care what’s standard,” Seungcheol interrupted. “This group isn’t like the others, and you know that. We’re a family. And you’re asking us to tear apart our family over something as human as love.”
“It’s a risk,” the manager argued.
“So what?” Seungcheol said, his voice rising. “Everything we do is a risk! Going on stage is a risk! Performing live is a risk! But we still do it because we believe in each other. And if you don’t believe in us if you don’t believe in Y/N and Jeonghan then maybe you’re the problem, not them.”
The room went silent.
Finally, one of the managers spoke, their tone colder than before. “If this relationship gets out to the public, there will be consequences. For both of them.”
Seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “Then we’ll handle it. But you’re not forcing her out of this group.”
The managers exchanged looks, clearly unhappy, but after a long pause, one of them sighed. “Fine. But it stays private. And if it ever becomes public, you all know what’s at stake.”
———————————————————————————-
Meanwhile—Dance Practice Room
Jeonghan wiped sweat from his forehead, looking around the room. Something felt… off.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, glancing at the others.
Joshua hesitated, then pulled him aside. “She’s with Seungcheol. At the company office.”
Jeonghan frowned. “Why?”
Joshua bit his lip. “…She’s asking to leave the group.”
Jeonghan froze. “What?”
“She said it’s because of you,” Joshua admitted softly. “Because of what the management said about you two.”
Jeonghan didn’t wait to hear more. He grabbed his jacket and bolted out of the practice room.
———————————————————————————-
Y/N and Seungcheol stepped out of the management’s office, the tension from their earlier discussion still lingering in the air. Y/N’s heart pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from fear. It was from relief.
It was over.
She could stay. She didn’t have to leave Seventeen. She and Jeonghan could be together as long as they kept it private.
But before she could fully process everything, Jeonghan’s voice echoed down the hallway.
“Y/N!”
She froze, her eyes widening as she turned to see him storming toward her.
His face was filled with panic and anger, and the moment he reached her, his voice was sharp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Jeonghan—”
“You can’t leave the group!” he interrupted, his voice trembling. “Not because of me!”
Seungcheol raised his hands, trying to calm the situation. “I’ll give you two a moment,” he said, stepping back. He shot Y/N a reassuring look before walking away.
As soon as Seungcheol disappeared down the hall, Jeonghan turned back to Y/N, his eyes desperate.
“Why?” he demanded. “Why would you do this? Why would you throw away everything we’ve worked for?”
Y/N’s heart ached seeing the pain in his eyes. She reached out, but he stepped back, his fists clenched.
“Jeonghan, stop,” she said softly. “Listen to me.”
“How can I listen to you when you’re trying to leave?” His voice cracked, and for the first time, she saw the fear in his expression.
“I’m not leaving,” Y/N said quickly, grabbing his hands before he could pull away. “I’m staying.”
He froze. “What?”
She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. “Seungcheol and I talked to the management. We convinced them to let me stay. We can be together, but it has to be private.”
Jeonghan stared at her, completely stunned. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
Relief washed over his face, but it was quickly replaced by frustration. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought this was the only way to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Jeonghan stepped closer, his voice softer now. “Y/N, do you really think I’d be okay with you giving up your dream for me? Do you know how much that would’ve destroyed me?”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
Jeonghan reached out, gently cupping her face. “We’ll figure things out together. You don’t have to fight this alone anymore, okay?”
Y/N nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. For everything. For how I treated you before. For making you feel like you weren’t important to me.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain again. I know why you did it.”
“But I shouldn’t have,” Jeonghan said firmly. “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve fought for us from the start.”
Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Jeonghan didn’t let her.
Instead, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
“You’re not leaving me,” he whispered. “Not now. Not ever.”
Y/N melted into his embrace, finally allowing herself to breathe.
“Never,” she whispered back.
————————————————————————————
The group had gathered back at the cabin after practice. Y/N and Jeonghan sat together in the corner, their hands intertwined under the table where no one could see.
Seungcheol watched them from across the room and smiled to himself.
“Thanks, hyung,” Jeonghan said quietly when he caught Seungcheol’s gaze.
Seungcheol just shrugged. “You owe me.”
Jeonghan grinned. “I know.”
Y/N squeezed Jeonghan’s hand, and he turned to her, his expression softening.
They still had a long road ahead of them, but for the first time, they felt ready to face it. Together.
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enthusiasticharry · 3 hours ago
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the one where YN gets a job as a bartender in a motorbike club's bar, and Harry runs the club.
author's note: suprise!! i'm back again!! i promised i wouldn't keep you waiting and i'm not. this is the first part in my biker!harry mini-series which i started a while ago and only just got around to finishing! let me know what you think and what you'd like to see in the next instalments!
word count: 11.6k of sexy biker!harry (that's it, that's all).
WARNINGS: strong language, smut, bike riding, a bar fight and talks of a motor accident.
let me know what you think of clover here!! mwah <3
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“Look, sweets, I’d hire you on the spot if I thought it would be a good idea,” Mick spoke from across the bar, towel over one shoulder and another in his hand drying a glass, “But it just isn’t, I’m sorry.”
YN sighed, dropping her hands down on the bar. This was the fourth one she’d tried, and so far, she hadn’t had any luck. She wasn’t asking for much – just a job to help pay for her student loans. She had graduated a year ago and bounced from job to job, and yet none of them seemed to fit. It wasn’t necessarily her dream to work in a bar, but she hadn’t a single clue about what her dream was. She had a first-class honours history degree (which she adored getting) and yet not a single idea of what to do with it.
She couldn’t think of the future at this moment, she needed to think about the now and if she wanted to continue to live in her small apartment and eat — she needed a job.
Clovers had been her last hope. It was the last bar in town that YN was yet to try, and despite its less-than-positive reputation – it was always busy, and that meant money coming in. As she turned to look around the bar, which was already quite crowded for it being early on a Friday night, she couldn’t help but imagine the cash that was funnelling through the establishment, and how she wished she could get at least some of it.
“Can I get you a drink, sweets?” Mick spoke again, offering her a soft smile, “It’ll hopefully soften the blow a little bit.”
YN smiled at the man and nodded, “Thank you. Whisky, please.”
Mick got straight to work, placing the glass in front of her, dropping an ice cube into the glass and pouring her a more than generous shot. Just as she fumbled with her purse to pull out some bills to pass to Mick, he shook his head and held his hand out to stop it. She smiled in thanks and watched as he turned and walked away, going to serve the next customer who was standing a few feet away from her.
YN picked up her drink, and just as she was about to take a drink the door beside her opened. Her lips parted, her eyes watching as a group of what seemed to be fifteen or so men, all clad in heavy leather or dark denim walked into the bar.
Of course, YN knew about them. Anyone who lived here knew who they were, but it was the first time that she had seen them this up close. The most she had ever experienced with them was the low rumbling of their engines from a distance, or possibly them riding past her but that was only ever one or two. It was their jackets that often set them apart from the rest of the riders in the town, the very specific Clover’s Riders jacket that every member adorned and what seemed like all times.
The men were loud as they stepped in, most of them heading towards the bar whilst others went to some of the other members who were already seated in the bar. YN’s eyes never left the door until the last one had made his entrance, and she just couldn’t seem to draw them away.
He was younger than many of his counterparts, probably resting at an age near YN’s or possibly a few years or so older. He was clad in the same heavy denim that many of the others wore, but they seemed to sit on his body much easier. The curls of his hair were tousled in every direction it seemed, but YN found herself wondering as to what it would feel like to run her fingers through it.
With a shake of her head, she turned back to her glass and lifted it to her lips. She took a large gulp of the liquid, allowing that to slip down her throat before she finished the rest of it. Mick was long gone from being anywhere near her, working at what seemed like double speed to keep up with the orders that the gang of men were giving him, and she felt as though that was probably her cue to leave. She would have to brainstorm other options for work, seeing as though this just hadn’t called through.
Sighing, YN pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushed up from the stool she was resting on. Just as she turned around to make a beeline for the door through the bodies that were crowding the room, she was stopped by a body in front of hers.
“Woah, woah, little darling where do you think you’re going?” It was one of the riders, standing in front of her with a grin on his features.
“Home,” she said with a shrug.
“So soon,” The man looked over his shoulder to some of his friends who were standing close by, “Me and my buddies here didn’t even get to say hello.”
“Right, okay, hello,” YN nodded to the man in front of her and those behind him, “Really have to get going.”
The man extended his arms so that she couldn’t carry move from her space in front of him, “Let us buy you a drink little darling, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“I’ve already had one, thank you, and it was very enjoyable,” YN offered them another small smile, “Now please move out of my way so that I can go home.”
“Hey, none of that,” The man shook his head, “Stay with us, I promise we’ll make it worth it.”
YN hummed, tilting her head from side to side lightly, “I’ll pass but I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone else to make the night worth it.”
And with that, YN pushed past the man and beelined for the door. She half expected him to grab her, but from the hoots and hollers of his friends, he was too embarrassed to do anything else.
The bar that YN had worked out whilst she was completing her degree had taught her a thing or two about how to deal with rowdy men, and whilst the firm but clear approach worked in most cases, YN wasn’t afraid to resort to other means if necessary. It was all a respect thing, and more often than not if you deal back to them what they deal to you – the situation usually sorts itself.
YN had just rested her palm against the wood of the door when she heard someone call her name. She saw Mick standing there, leaning over the bar to catch her attention.
“Saw you deal with those guys,” He nodded his head over to the men whose attention had been taken by another woman in the bar, who seemed to accept their advances more than YN did, “When can you start?”
YN’s face broke out into a smile and took a delighted step towards Mick, “Whenever.”
“Right now?” He raised his eyebrows at her, motioning to the men who were calling his name for more drinks, “Have a feeling we’re going to be swamped tonight.”
YN nodded and immediately dropped her purse down behind the bar and rolled the sleeves of her cardigan up.
She turned to the men who were now staring at her with their mouths slightly agape, “What can I get you?”
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It was a Thursday night and YN had been working at Clover’s for around a week at this point when Mick decided that she could handle a night on her own. After being thrown into what very much was the deep end on her first shift, there had been time the next day for Mick to show her the ropes properly and anything she would specifically need to know.
Mick said that he normally wouldn’t leave such a new person on their own so quickly, but he had an important family issue that he couldn’t get out of and that she had shown enough trust that he wasn’t worried. It was a Thursday, so it wasn’t going to be too busy but even so, those who were going to be there would be Riders, and they would protect their bar from anything.
It was nearing nine, and YN would probably say that they were at a quarter of their capacity, the majority of them being riders who had been there for the last few hours or so. YN was lucky she supposed. They never ordered anything more complicated than a beer, at most a whisky or a bourbon and this was their bar so there were never any arguments about paying for the drinks.
There was a lull in the orders, so YN decided to take it upon herself to dry some of the glasses she had washed in the previous lull. This job was not for the weak she would say that, but YN would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. She loved people watching and mixed with the hum of the jukebox it was the perfect combination for her.
The door to the bar opened again about twenty minutes, and in walked that same man that caught her attention a week or so ago, on that first day she was here. He looked the same, apart from he was clad in a mixture of denim and leather this time instead of just denim, and a large bruise was sprouting from under his left eye. To YN, it was obvious that the cause was a punch, for there was nothing else that could cause a bruise such as that one. He walked into the room, ignored the hoots and hollers from some of the other men and took a seat right in the middle of the bar.
YN threw the towel she was holding over her shoulder and walked towards him, resting her hands on the edge of the bar, “What can I get ya?”
The man didn’t stray his eyes away from where they were planted firmly on the wood of the bar, “Beer, and a whisky.”
YN nodded, reaching over to pop the lid of the beer, “Do you want ice in the whisky?”
The man just hummed, so YN got straight to work making his drink for him. It was different to that of the other men in the bar — watching him. Whilst they were loud and rowdy and always had something to say to someone – he was silent. He just sat, with the company of his only himself and drank his drink.
Snapping YN out of her gaze (which had been on the man for a few beats too long) was a call of her name from just down the bar. She walked over to where it came from, a man called Taylor who YN had become quite acquainted with in the last few days or so.
Most of the men (not all, obviously) that she had become acquainted with during the last few weeks were lovely. They loved to have a quick natter with her whilst she made their drinks, some of them flirted with her but she didn’t care (it was part of the job) and nobody bothered her. If one or two of the men when they were drunk got a little handsy or started to say things which would be deemed inappropriate, the other lads would circle her and make sure she was okay. She felt safe, which she was quite surprised was the case.
“A piece of advice,” Taylor spoke over the bar as YN started opening the bottles of beer for him and his friends, “Harry over there always orders the same thing, and he’ll drink the whiskey last before he leaves.”
“Thank you,” YN nods with a small smile across her lips, unable to stop her eyes beating over to him for a second – Harry.
“He’s a quiet one,” Taylor continues speaking, grabbing a few bills out of his pocket to pay for the drinks, “But harmless, I promise. To be fair, you’d think the man who founded the club would have more to say.”
YN’s eyes widen, she had no idea that Harry was the one who founded the club. She hadn’t suspected it at all.
“He founded it?” She asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow. She wasn’t trying to pry, but there were things that she wanted to know, and Taylor already had that buzz that made her know that he would be willing to answer any questions she had.
“Yeah, it was him and a few others,” Taylor shrugged, attempting to pick up the three bottles of beer all in one go, “A few years ago now, and it only grew from there.”
YN nodded once more and watched as he walked back to his table. She put the bills that he had given her for the drinks into the register and put the tip she had been given into her apron.
There was something about that man that had caught her attention from that first day, and yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. Now, it made sense. The aura that he had when he walked into the room, as well as the way he sat and held himself – he had a strong presence in the group without even trying.
YN had more questions, but she knew it probably wasn’t the best to pry right now. Instead, she just got on with everything that she had to do. She served drinks and cleaned up after herself right up until close. YN hadn’t realised when Harry had left, but he had slipped out without a single person realising.
She hummed as she swept the floors, tried her hardest to count the cash right the first time and put it in the safe before continuing with her other closing jobs. The chairs were off the floor, as much of the stickiness in the room that YN could remove was gone and the doors were locked and checked.  
Once she had stepped outside, and locked the door to the bar behind her, the late hour catching up with her very quickly – she realised at that point she wasn’t alone.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he was standing there, resting against his motorcycle with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. YN was confused but continued to lock the door and make sure that nobody could get inside. Then she turned, and that was when she saw Harry looking directly at her.
“Can I help you?” She muttered, fidgeting with the keys she was holding in her hand.
He inhaled the smoke from his cigarette, holding it for a second or so before he exhaled, “Heard you were asking questions.”
YN’s heart drops slightly, heat pulsating around her body, “Am I not allowed to ask questions?”
He ran his teeth over his bottom lip, placing the cigarette back in his mouth, “Can’t stop you from doing that, but any questions you have about me, you can ask me yourself.”
YN just pursed her lips and nodded, “Okay then… do you always stalk women when they’re leaving work?”
Harry didn’t seem shocked by her words, or react in any way to them at all, which was surprising to her. But, then again, she hadn’t seen much of a reaction out of this man this entire time she had known of him.
“Only the ones that have worked in my bar for a week.”
“Your bar?” YN widened her eyes, “Thought Mick owned it?”
Harry shook his head, “I do. Mick’s my employee, and so are you.”
“Do you not trust me or something? Think I’m walking away with pocketfuls of cash?”
“I would already know if you’d done that, and you wouldn’t be working here anymore,” YN just nodded, “But this side of a town can be sketchy at night, and you never know who could be lurking.”
YN just scoffed, turning to walk away from the man, “Thank you, but I can look after myself.”
“Suit yourself,” Harry shrugged, climbing onto his bike, and kicking the stand-up. YN could hear the engine turning on, the loud rumble filling the empty street.
YN continued walking, expecting him to speed past her but he didn’t. The low rumble continued down the street, even when she turned – the sound turned too. It was frustrating and annoying. All YN wanted to do was to get home, have something to eat and get in bed. Instead, she was having to deal with what was becoming an annoying rider, who couldn’t seem to leave her alone.
This continued for around ten minutes, and with each second that passed YN was getting more and more annoyed. Just as she turned onto the edge of her street, the apartment she shared with her roommate Ashley coming into view in the distance, she decided that enough was enough.
She stopped and turned around on the pavement, Harry pulling in on his bike to stop just in front of her. YN sighed and placed her hand on her hips.
“Do we have a problem?”
Harry rested his hands on his bike still, but was facing her, “No problem.”
“Then why are you following me home?” A small chuckle escaped her lips, “You know those strange people you were talking about earlier; you do know you’re acting like one of them?”
“You’re one of us now,” He shrugs, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world – it certainly wasn’t for YN at all.
“That means you follow me home?” The confusion grows with every moment in YN, and yet Harry doesn’t seem the slightest bit worried.
“You didn’t want a ride,” He pulls his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up, “Had to make sure you got home safe.”
“Right,” YN just nods, “Well, I think I can manage on my own from here. And, if I’m all of a sudden one of you should I expect my jacket in the post? Or do you do collection?”
With a final scoff, she turned and walked away from the man. This time, when the engine started, YN didn’t turn to look at Harry and instead carried on to her front door. It was only then that she turned to peer over her shoulder, just in time to see Harry speed past her and into the night.
She had an incline that this job was going to be interesting, but she had no idea just how much.
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It wasn’t necessarily a normal working pattern that YN had found herself in.
Sleeping for most of the day and being awake all night wasn’t necessarily the big girl working pattern that she had aspired to when she was younger, but for the time being she was enjoying it. It did mean that when Ashley returned from her nine-to-five working as a receptionist (YN couldn’t think of anything worse to be honest), YN was just getting ready to start her day.
YN was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a half-eaten sandwich clutched tightly in her hand. She wasn’t too hungry, but she knew that if she didn’t eat something before, she left for work she would regret it later on. The second that Ashley stepped through the door and threw her bag down on the floor, she threw YN a quizzical look.
“What?” YN asked, wiping the mayo that rested on the curve of her lip off with her thumb.
“Do you happen to know anything about the smoking-hot rider staring at the apartment from across the street?”
YN’s entire face dropped, “What?”
Ashley walked over and dropped down on the other side of the sofa, reaching out to steal one of YN’s chips from her plate. Ashley seemed slightly unfazed by the newfound stalker YN had acquired, and that stressed the girl out significantly.
“What do you mean?” YN pushed herself up, making her way over to the window where there he was. Resting against his bike, cigarette resting from his lips sat Harry, staring at the front door to the building with an unreadable expression on his face,
“He’s been there since this morning,” Ashley adds to the conversation causally, running a hand through her hair which she had just pulled out of its undo, “At first, I thought he was waiting for Sandy, you know, from 2.B but then I saw the jacket and realised he must be here for you.”
“He’s not here for me,” YN shook her head, slapping the curtains shut and walking back over to her friend, “He’s stalking me, I can’t believe you’re not more stressed about this.”
Ashley just shrugged, “Worse people to be stalked by, I suppose. He’s one of Clover’s, he’ll be harmless.”
“No, Ashley, he’s not just one of Clover’s,” YN sighed, running a hand over her face before scooting around the apartment to grab her belongings, “He is Clover.”
It was Ashley’s face that dropped this time, “What do you mean?”
“That’s Harry,” YN pulled each one of her pumps on her feet, “He founded the gang!”
“You’re kidding,” Ashley all but screams, “Jesus YN, I knew I was concerned about this job, but I think you’ve done pretty alright for yourself.”
YN just shook her head. She grabbed her jacket, and her bag and made her way over to the door.
“If I go missing, you know who’s responsible,” With that, YN turned away from her friend and rushed out of the door.
She took the stairs down from her apartment at double speed, almost tripping over her feet multiple times. She pulled her jacket on just as she got to the front door. Just before she was going to push it open, just stopped and hesitated for a second. One deep breath in and out was all it took to compose herself, and then she pushed the door open.
Harry spotted her immediately, throwing the cigarette he had in his hand a few metres away from his bike, where a collection was beginning to grow. YN made sure to check the left and the right of her before crossing the road, not quite fancying becoming roadkill this early in the day.
“You’re lucky my neighbours didn’t call the cops on you,” Is the first thing that slips from YN’s lips, before she realises how stupid that sounds.
For the first time since she met him, a small smile crosses Harry’s lips. She had amused him, and oh did she want to do it again.
“You know you can’t stay out here all day,” She follows with, “I’m going to the bar now anyway.”
“I got something for you,” Harry pushed himself up off the bike and that’s when she saw it.
A denim jacket, smaller than the others that she had seen but still carrying the ever-so-known Clover’s Riders logo on the back. That four-leaf clover was known all over town, and towns for miles in every direction and now it seemed YN had one of her own. It would open paths for her but also close them as well. She knew that the second she accepted that jacket, things would change all over again.
“I don’t even ride, Harry,” She sighed, shaking her head slightly, “I’ve never been on a bike in my life.”
He just shrugged once more, “There’s always time to change that.”
YN toyed up her options, and it took a lot less time than she had thought it would to swipe the jacket from his hands. She shrugged off the one she was wearing and slipped her arms inside the material. It was the perfect fit, exactly what she would have chosen for herself. Harry beamed another smile at her and swung his leg over his bike once more.
“C’mon,” He tilted his head at her, “I have something I want to show you.”
“I’ll be late for work,” YN shook her head, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from throwing her leg over the side of the bike and using Harry’s shoulder to help steady herself as she got on.
“You’ll be fine,” Harry spoke, and that’s when YN realised that whilst yes, she was probably going to be late for work, she was also on the back of the owner’s bike – so the trouble couldn’t be too grave, “Hold on tight.”
YN did as the man said, wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist. The second that the engine started, and Harry kicked the stand-up they went flying down the road, and she realised in that exact moment why he said tight. YN’s body lurched forward into Harry’s, her cheek resting against the leather of his jacket, and her hands tightening around him.
Once the initial fear had worn off, and YN finally peered over the man’s shoulder – she would be lying if she said that it didn’t feel in a word freeing. The wind through her hair, the chill of the speed at which she was going laced with the feeling of Harry pressed so closely against her. Sure, she had been scared but now she knew that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. It wasn’t a scary thing, instead, it was something to be enjoyed.
YN’s lips curled upwards, a slight giggle leaving them as she noticed they went speeding through a red light. Many, and by many YN meant most, of the riders had a back pocket full of speeding tickets, and lights that they’ve jumped and yet none of them seemed to care. It was as though all of the law-abiding parts of their brains didn’t function when they were on bikes. On second thought, even when they weren’t on the bikes the law-abiding parts of their brain didn’t function.
Harry pulled over just as they joined the road which took them out of the city. They had completely passed Clover’s, and YN hadn’t the faintest clue of how late she was for work at this point, but it didn’t matter. It would take a lot for this smile to leave her face today. Once the bike came to a stop, YN used Harry’s shoulder to push up off of it.
Harry sits on the bike, but his eyes never leave the girl. The way she almost looked like a baby deer as she got her grounding once she was off the bike, the way her hair stuck out in every and all directions, and most importantly the beaming smile that never left her face. For the first time in a long time, there were no thoughts in YN’s head. There were no worries about growing up and getting a proper job, or stress about money – it was completely and utterly freeing. She supposed that was why there were so many of the riders and she supposed they were all chasing that feeling.
“You’ve got to teach me how to ride,” She sighed, the blissful smile never leaving her lips.
Harry just nodded, “Whenever you want.”
“Really?” Her face widened in excitement.
Harry shrugged, “You’ve gotta know how to ride if you’re going to be a rider.”
YN just nodded, and almost jumped back onto the bike. Harry didn’t say anything when she wrapped her arms back around his waist, not a single gap between their bodies but it just felt so comfortable. Harry kicked the stand down once more and sprang straight into action, turning slowly around on the road before speeding up the second they were on the straight back to the town.
All YN knew was that she was going to savour the feeling of the wind in her hair.
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It was another Saturday night, and it was packed in the bar.
YN was so thankful that she could stay behind the safety of the actual bar and not venture out into the rest of the room. The men had just come back from a ride, and they were all excited and loud and wanting nothing but drink upon drink upon drink. She had been there from earlier on in the day today, and when Mick showed up later in the evening, she hadn’t managed to utter a single word but hello to him since.
All she could think of was the fact that once the rush had died down, it would be her time to go home and rest. In what felt like a very long few months of working every day (at first YN hadn’t minded, but she was slowly getting more and more burnt out) it was finally time for her to have a day off. Mick had graciously said to her the other day that he could handle Sunday on his own, and those words felt like gold slipping from his lips. She didn’t have a single clue of what she was going to do with her day, all she knew was that it was going to be relaxing.
She just had to get through this night first.
At first, the night seemed fine. Everyone was in good spirits and there was nothing more than a few drunken disagreements that sorted themselves out. YN had taken that as the opportunity to make her way over to where Harry was sitting and replenish his beer while he was there. It was then that the door was thrown open, and the entire atmosphere in the room changed.
What had at first been a lovely evening had changed within the second, and it was all because of a man that she hadn’t recognised. He didn’t have a rider’s jacket on his back, and that should have been YN’s first clue that this man was going to be in trouble. This was a riders’ bar, and those jackets were almost like a rite of passage. Without one, people stuck out like a sore thumb.
It became even more obvious to YN when the man beelined straight over to where Harry was sitting. He didn’t sit and instead leant over Harry, so his focus was on him. YN stayed close, but she didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was listening. She wasn’t the only one either – she could see other riders peering over at them from where they were sitting.
“You said if I did it, I’d get my jacket,” Those were the first words that came out of the man’s mouth – not even a greeting of hello, “I did it. Where’s the fucking jacket?”
Harry didn’t say anything for a second or so. Instead, he lifted his recently replenished beer to his lips and took a swag. He was doing as he always did – taking his sweet darn time.
“I said I’d think about it,” Harry mumbles, shrugging slightly as he did, “I’ve thought about it… and no.”
The man smacks his hand down onto the bar top, the sound echoing throughout the room. It silenced everyone, and all eyes turned to the two men. YN’s eyes looked towards Mick with a panicked expression on them but he shook his head, hoping that would calm the girls down.
“That wasn’t the fucking deal,” The man spits, coming right up into Harry’s face but it didn’t seem to deter the man at all, “The deal was to drop the shipment, I get the fucking jacket.”
Harry finally turned to look at the man, his stern expression never wavering, “Do you think I want someone like you, someone that doesn’t listen wearing one of my jackets?”
The man didn’t like that response, and it seemed as though as quickly as YN could blink her eyes the man was grasping the lapels of Harry’s jacket and pulling him up from the stool. He was then pushed straight into the bar, a slight grunt leaving his lips as he did. There was the initial sound of beer stools scratching on the floor, and other Riders were reading to split the two men up but all it took was Harry lifting one of his hands and they all stopped in their places.
“I don’t want someone who’s that willing to fight one of his men wearing a jacket.”
That was all it took for the other man to make the first punch. His arm pulled backwards, and his fist hit Harry straight across the jaw. The skin immediately went red, but Harry didn’t look like a man who had just been hit straight across the jaw. The bar stayed silent, obviously waiting for whatever Harry’s retaliation was going to be.
What YN, and certainly a lot of others in the bar hadn’t expected was Harry to reach behind him, to where his empty beer bottle was sat and hit the man over the head with it. The man fell to the ground, his grip on Harry letting go instantly. Harry lifted his hand, wincing when he noticed that a shard of glass from the broken bottle had lodged itself in his skin.
He just sighed, rubbing his forehead with his uninjured hand, “Get him out of here.”
Three of the men who were watching closely immediately listened to him, walking over, and picking the man up. They carried him out of the bar and were back to their drinks in what seemed like minutes. It was as though nobody truly seemed to care as to what had just happened and were more excited to get back to their drinks truly as though nothing had happened.
YN watched as Harry threw back the glass of whisky that had sat on the bar waiting for him (courtesy of Mick). That seemed like something that YN would have to take note of. With that, he dropped a few bills on the counter and stormed out of the bar. YN watched this and immediately started to pull her apron off her body.
“Mick,” The older man hummed from the other side of the bar, “I’m going outside for a break. I’ll only be a minute.”
The older man just threw YN a look, obviously having spotted who had left the bar just before she wanted to, “Be careful.”
YN just laughed, throwing the latch open, “I’m always careful.”
The second she stepped outside; she was shocked to see that Harry’s bike was still there, but he wasn’t sitting on it. There was a slight chill in the night air, and YN looked from left to right to try and spot him, but he was still nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until YN made her way towards the alley that followed the side of the bar that she finally realised where he had gone.
It was dark, but not dark enough to miss the figure leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips. YN wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to conceal at least some of the warmth from inside. As her shoes crunched on the path, Harry’s eyes turned to look at her. He was ready for it to be someone else, and it was almost as though when he noticed that it was her – his features seemed to relax.
“How’s your hand?” She asked, coming to a stop right in front of him.
He raised his palm towards her, “It’s been better.”
YN winced to herself slightly as she looked at his hand, seeing the shard of glass still sticking out of the skin. Whilst she didn’t have a first aid kit on her body at this exact moment, it was good that she knew where one was.
“Come with me,” She nodded, walking further down the alley to the bar’s back entrance.
YN didn’t even turn to make sure that he was following her, she just knew that he would be. She held the door open for him, and the one that opened to the office of the bar (where Mick spent most of his time during the day, sorting the books out) and pointed at the chair by the desk.
Whilst Harry sat down without a word to her, YN reached up to the shelf above them and brought the first aid kit down. Harry’s eyes watched her as she pulled tweezer, gauze, and some antiseptic to clean and dress his wound. It was all very silent, and still but caring.
“Can I?” She asked, checking sure it was okay to touch his hand.
Harry nodded, placing his hand in hers. To YN, she wasn’t sure if she was truly touch-starved that feeling of his hand in hers felt truly intimate. She got to work straight away, pulling the glass out with the tweezers ever so carefully before wiping the surface of the cut. Even though YN knew that it would have stung, Harry’s face didn’t show anything, only one raised an eyebrow slightly.
“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” She mumbles, face still full of concentration on making sure the wound is fully clean before she wraps it.
Harry just nodded, “You see wounds like these before?”
YN nodded, “I’ve worked in bars before – of course, I’ve seen wounds like these before.”
Harry just nods, allowing YN to move his hand at her ease to ensure that it is wrapped tightly and securely. He opened his mouth once she had finished, as though he was going to ask her something, but he closed it straight away. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that he could ask her anything that he wanted to, but she didn’t want to scare him away.
“You’re all set,” She offered him a small smile.
“Thank you,” The words sort of felt foreign, but very sincere coming from his lips, “I… you didn’t have to.”
YN just shrugged, “Wasn’t going to let you bleed out – would’ve been bad for business.”
Harry offered her a small smile at her attempt at a joke, “I’m sorry about what happened in there as well… usually we try to keep those sorts of things out of the bar.”
“Harry,” His name came out of her lips softly, hoping that would be the thing to tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t angry at him, “I know… it doesn’t bother me – I promise.”
He just nods, “I knew that, you know.”
YN furrows her eyebrows, “What do you mean?”
“That first day,” He reached out to her, and did the last thing that she would ever expect – grabbed her hand, “The way you dealt with some of the lads… I knew you were different.”
“It was you…” The words slipped out of YN’s mouth before she could truly register them, “You saw me that day.”
It all made sense. YN had noticed Harry that very first day that she’d appeared at Clover, and whilst originally Mick had said no, he had changed his mind and said yes. To YN, it had looked and seemed that Mick was the one who had made that decision, and yet it made sense that it was Harry to be the one who changed Mick’s mind. Harry, if he had been sitting at his barstool would have been a metre or so away from that conversation – and he would have heard every word that had been said.
“I did,” Harry nods, claiming every thought that YN had to be true, “I saw you, the way you spoke to them, the way you stood your ground and god, YN, I was hooked.”
That was the first time that YN had heard Harry speak her name, and she was addicted. She wanted to hear it over, and over and over again. He noticed the slight shift in her and used his legs to roll the chair he was sitting on closer to where she was resting against the desk. Then he slipped his uninjured arm around her body and pulled her down to him. She straddled his knees, relishing the feeling of his body beneath hers.
“I…” Her words came out as a whisper, “I felt the same.”
Relief. That was the look on his face – it was a true relief.
“You did?”
“God, Harry,” YN giggles, shaking her head, “I tried not to, but I would be lying if I said that most of my thoughts haven’t been filled with you. Wanting to know more.”
“You can know anything,” His thumb slipped underneath the thin material of her shirt, a heat spreading across her entire body from that one single touch, “Ask me anything, everything – I’ll answer. Whatever you want to know?”
YN pondered that for a second. She could have asked him anything, and yet there was one thought which was present in her mind more than any of the others. An hour ago, this question would have been risky – she just wouldn’t have asked it. Yet, in the safety of this room – away from peering eyes, or anyone who could make assumptions as to what it meant – she wanted nothing more than to ask it.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
Harry exhaled a breath, lifting his hand to rest against her cheek, “More than anything.”
YN nodded.
“Harry…” He hummed at the call of her name, “Kiss me.”
His thumb danced from her cheek, down to her lip. He ran it across the skin of her bottom lip, pushing down slightly so that her lips parted for him. The only sound in the room was YN’s heavy breathing, a response to the teasing that was on display right in front of her.
Then his face inched forward, and his lips were on hers. It didn’t take long for his tongue to slip past her parted lips, dancing with her own. This closeness to someone, the vulnerability – YN had missed it. She pushed her body forward towards Harry’s, slipping her hands in the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands, never mind the bandaged one which would have still caused him pain, rested upon her denim-clad arse. They found their home resting there, and YN wasn’t about to move them.
Harry pulled away from her lips, obviously needing oxygen as much as she did. But he wasted no time in dropping his attack down her neck, his teeth nipping the skin there. YN’s hands still rested in the curls at the nape of his neck, and heavy breaths parted from her lips.
“Harry,” She gasped as he started to suck at the sweet spot where her neck met her collarbone, “I need to get back to work.”
“No, you don’t,” He mumbled, and YN just rolled her eyes.
“I’ve deserted Mick,” She continues, “He might need help.”
“Mick’ll be fine,” He pulled his head up, resting on her chest as he peered up at her, “And anyway, I’m your boss.”
YN shook her head, “I need to go.”
Harry groaned but finally nodded, “Ride home with me?”
“Of course,” YN pecked Harry’s lips one last time pushed herself up from him and walked out of the room.
Harry’s eyes never left her the entire time.  
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“Harry, no, I’m going to tip over.”
When Harry had dropped YN at home last night, he had muttered the words that he would see her tomorrow. Before she could clarify that she wasn’t working, he had sped off on his motorcycle into the dark of the night. YN should have known, though, that Harry knew she wasn’t working. It became even more clear when Ashley shouted at her from the kitchen at around midday today, telling her that her Rider was waiting for her.
Instead of the annoyance that YN felt the first time, there was a skip in her step this time. She had taken some time that morning to make herself look that little bit more presentable and waited for him. After their kiss the previous night in the office, and the slight peck that he had given her when she had climbed off his bike yesterday.
When she had bounced over to him earlier, a smile beaming on his face she didn’t have a single care as to what she would be doing that day – all she knew was that she was going to enjoy it. Even when she climbed on the back of his bike and asked where they were going – the smile never left her face. He refused to tell her, though, saying that it was a surprise.
“Harry, I don’t want to,” YN shook her head, hands grasping tightly onto the handles of the bike, “I’m going to fall off, or I’m going to crash your bike.”
What Harry had planned for the girl was to teach her how to ride. Whilst at the start YN had wanted nothing more than to learn how to ride, now that she was sitting on Harry’s bike without him there – she was terrified. Harry was standing close to her, cigarette dangling from his lips and an amused expression on his face.
“You’re not going to fall,” Harry shakes his head, “I’m right here… and I promise I won’t let you crash.”
“You can say that Harry, but you can’t promise,” YN was sitting on the bike, with her feet resting on the ground and absolutely no attempt at all to move.
He threw his cigarette on the floor, moving over so that he could wrap his arms around her waist, his hands coming to rest upon hers on the handle. He turned the engine on, and even though it was YN’s hands on the handle, Harry was controlling it. They went very slow – they had to so that Harry could walk at the side of them.
“I’m going to let go,” Harry spoke after a minute or so, but YN shook her head.
“I’m not ready,” YN pushed her body into his slightly, “I’m going to crash.”
“There’s nothing for you to crash into,” Harry peels one of his hands off of hers, “I trust you… you’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t as though he was lying. Harry had driven them out to a deserted road just out of town. Close enough away that they’d be home at a normal time, but far enough away that there wasn’t any traffic which would interrupt them. There wasn’t anything but stone and grass around them, and whilst if YN came to a haphazard stop, it wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing ever – there wasn’t a lot of damage that she could do to Harry’s bike.
Harry let go of her other hand, and she was doing it. Granted, she didn’t go over 2mph, but she was still riding the bike on her own. She wasn’t comfortable enough to attempt to turn yet, so she just came to a slow stop a few metres further down from where Harry was. She kicked the stand down and climbed off the bike – turning towards Harry with a smile on her face.
“I did it!” She bounced over to Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck, his coming to rest around her waist.
“Never doubted you,” He leaned down to place a kiss on her lips, pulling her body flush against his. Before anything more could happen, the sound of crunching on the road, as well as the sound of a siren interrupted them.
YN’s heart started to beat rapidly at the sight of a police car inching towards them. Whilst YN had dealt with police before working in her previous bars, she hadn’t ever been out in the open with her and only one other person when talking to them. Knowing that Harry also ran a motorcycle gang added another level of worry to it.
Harry just pulled YN with him, going to rest against his bike. He looked completely unfazed, whilst YN truly was shitting in her boots slightly. The police car stopped right in front of them, and as the door swung open to the car, Harry lit up a cigarette and brought it up to his lips – again, making it aware that he was completely unfazed by what was happening.
“Styles,” The officer sighed, slamming his car door behind him shit as he walked towards the two of them, “You’re not an easy man to find.”
“Hmm,” Harry just hums, inhaling from his cigarette, “I had no idea you were even looking for me… I wouldn’t have just stood in the middle of the road if I knew.”
The officer chuckled, placing his hands on his hips, “We had reports last night that you attacked a man.”
Harry shook his head, “Couldn’t have been me.”
“It happened at your bar,” The officer took a step forward towards Harry, “Had reports that you hit him over the head with a beer bottle.”
Harry just chuckles, “Officer Thompson, I don’t have time for this he said she said bullshit. If you’ve got something to say to me, I think you should say it.”
The officer just hummed, “Where were you last night?”
“I was at the bar,” Harry nodded, “All night.”
YN started to panic from beside him, but she tried not to make it obvious. Harry must have complete and utter trust in his riders to not say anything to the police. It made sense now to YN as to why that man hadn’t been given a jacket. He had instigated the fight, and yet he had run straight to the police with it. He was a coward and a rat.
“Can anyone corroborate this?”
“I can,” YN was surprised at how strongly her voice came out, “I was there with him all night, I work there.”
The officer hums once more, his eyes dropping down to focus on Harry once more. YN realises that it’s then that the officer has spotted his bandaged hand. YN’s mind starts to spiral slightly, hoping that one of them will be able to come up with something quickly.
“What, uh,” The officer couldn’t hide the smile on his face, obviously thinking that he had found him out, “What happened to your hand, Styles?”
Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so YN interrupts. She giggles slightly, knowing exactly what type of character was going to be believable for this officer. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
“I’m so sorry, officer, that was my fault,” YN took a small step towards the officer, but not far enough that she wasn’t in arms reach of Harry, “See, I’m real clumsy. And yesterday, I dropped a whole crate of beer and Harry heard the crash, and he helped me clean up – unfortunately, he cut his hand in the process.”
The officer’s eyes moved between Harry and YN. There was no way at that point for YN to try and guess what he was thinking – or what he was going to say. Then, when the officer’s face broke out into a smile just the same as YN’s, she knew she had convinced him.
“I’m sorry to bother you, miss, and I hope you have a good rest of your day,” Then the officer turned to Harry, and the smile on his face dropped, “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Styles.”
“And I’ll be looking forward to it Officer Thompson.”
Harry rested against his bike the entire time, whilst YN had her arms crossed against her chest. They didn’t say another word to each other until they watched the car turn around and drive away from them. It was only then that YN turned to Harry, who was running a hand over his face. Sighing, YN walked over to him, grabbing his hands (but making sure to be careful of his injured hand).
“You didn’t have to do that,” Harry shakes his head, pulling her hands up so that he can place a kiss on the back of them.
“I know,” YN nods, “But I wanted to.”
Harry rests his chin upon their connected hands, “I wanna take you somewhere.”
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YN would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about where Harry lived once or twice because she had. He had been to her apartment a few times to pick her up, and whilst she hadn’t necessarily wanted to be that forward and ask him where he lived, there was a part of her which wondered about it.
It was a strange circumstance. Where does the leader of a gang live? Where does he rest his head at night? Where does make his coffee in the morning? Whilst YN wouldn’t necessarily admit it, she was an inquisitive person.  
When Harry’s bike came to a stop outside of a garage, one that seemingly had an apartment attached to the top of it – it all made sense. Yes, the bar had to be doing well, with how many people were in it daily. But there had to be another way that Harry was making money, and it seemed as though this was it. She wondered if this had anything to do with the shipments that the other man had been speaking about.
He kicked the standout and gave YN the space the climb off before he did. He walked over to the shutter, unlocked the padlock, and threw it open. The apartment didn’t look too big, but the shop itself was huge. She had expected a car, maybe a few bikes – but she hadn’t expected rows upon rows of bikes lining the side of the walls. In the middle, YN could see the different stations where Harry and some of the other members worked.
“Are these all yours?” YN asked, her finger reaching out to run across the glossy black exterior of one of the bikes closest to her.
“Most of them,” Harry shrugged, dropping the shutter closed behind the two of them after pushing his bike inside, “Me and a few others, we buy them and restore them, make them better to sell on.”
“God, Harry,” YN turns to him, an expression of what could only be described as amazement on her features, “This is amazing.”
He just offered her a small smile, taking small steps towards her until he was close enough to wrap his arms around her middle. YN giggled slightly, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder as he pulled her closer to him.
“Pick one.”
The features on YN’s lips dropped again, “What?”
“Pick one,” Harry repeated, “A bike.”
“Yeah, I gathered that, Harry, I’m just confused as to why.”
He just shrugged, leaning back against the workbench near the two of them. YN turned around so that she was facing him, and Harry at once pressed his hands against her waist. It was funny to YN, to see the big, scary, gang member was so soft around her, and they hadn’t necessarily known each other very long.
“You said it yourself,” He shrugged, his hands pulling her between her body between his open legs, “If you’re gonna be a rider, you’ve got to ride. Seems like you need a bike to do that.”
“Yeah, but I’ll buy one,” YN spoke, as though it was the most obvious thing in the word, “When I have the cash for it.”
Harry shook his head, “No need, rather have you on one of these. Tested them myself, they’re all safe.”
YN just shook her head, propelling her body even further forward so that she could wrap her arms around Harry’s neck and press her lips against his. It was a clumsy kiss, with both of their teeth clashing and smiles upon their features but they did not care.
“Thank you,” She mumbled against his lips, pressing a flurry of chaste kisses to them afterwards.
Harry shook his head, “No need – pick one, baby.”
YN pushed her body up and started to walk up and down the rows of bikes until she spotted it. It was about halfway down the row, a bike with dark green glossy accents, looking nothing but sleek with the dark metal of the engine. It was the one that she wanted, and the second she was standing in front of it she knew it was hers. With that beaming smile across her features, YN turned and launched herself at Harry, wrapping her legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on the plump skin of her arse over her dark denim jeans. Even though YN suspected that she had caught him off guard, he didn’t show it on his face.
“How can I ever thank you?” She asked between a litter of kisses to his lips, a boyish smile crossing his features afterwards that YN wants nothing more than to bottle up and remember forever.
“That smile of yours is enough,” Harry nods at her, pressing another full kiss to her lips.
YN tilts her head to the side, turning to look at Harry with a slight smirk crossing her features. His eyebrows furrowed as though he already suspected she was coming up with something in her head.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Maybe…” YN starts, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip, hesitating, “Maybe there’s another way I can thank you.”
Harry’s eyes widened, as though he was finally catching on to the thoughts swimming around in YN’s head.
“We don’t have to,” Harry shakes his head quickly. “I promise I’m not expecting anything from you.”
YN just shakes her head, leaning forward to place another kiss on his lips. Her hands tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck.
“I know you’re not,” YN offers him a smile, “I want to. I promise.”
Harry shook his head, a groan emitting from his lips as he tugged her even closer to him if that was possible. YN giggles at his obvious joy at her statement.
“God,” He rests his forehead against hers, “I know it’s wrong, but I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
Harry turns, as though he’s going to walk out of the garage, but YN stops him. He furrows his eyebrows at her, and she just giggles once more.
“Want it here.”
“What?”
“Want it here, want you on the bench,” Harry groans once more, moving to drop her down upon the workbench that he had been rested upon earlier.
“Are you sure I haven’t dreamt you up?”
“Nope,” YN shakes her head, “I’m real.”
YN threads her fingers back through the curls at the nape of his neck, bringing his face back to hers. It doesn’t take long for their lips to connect once more. It wasn’t sweet or light. It was rough, as though both of them were finally able to do what they had both been thinking about.
Harry’s hands start to move down her body, resting on the hem of her jeans. She can feel his thumbs pressing down into the skin of her waist, and when it registers in her brain what he was trying to do YN pulls away, shaking her head.
“Not yet,” She lightly pushes his body to the side so that she can jump off the bench, “I haven’t thanked you yet.”
“You don’t have to,” YN’s hands rest on the lapels of his jacket, waiting for his nod before she pushes it off his shoulders.
“I want to.”
It takes just one swipe for Harry to pull his shirt over his head whilst YN’s hands come to rest upon his belt buckle. YN’s eyes widen at the sight of his exposed chest, as well as the tattoos that litter his sin. YN knew that Harry had tattoos; she had seen the ones on his arms multiple times, but it felt different to see the ones on his chest.
Her fingers work quickly to pull Harry’s belt buckle open, working on the button and zip of his jeans next. YN drops down to her knees, pushing Harry back slightly so that he’s resting against the workbench. Harry peers down at her, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation. Her hand rests upon the grey material of his boxers, palming his already semi-hard cock through the light material.
“You like teasing?”
YN shrugs lightly, “I have no clue what you mean.”
Harry laughs, watching her intently as her fingers loop into the band of his boxers, pulling them down to expose him to her. YN finds herself unable to pull her eyes away from his cock. She knew it had to be big from palming him through his boxers but seeing it before she made her mouth water and pressure to build in the pit of her stomach.
She placed a light kiss on his tip, which was already red and leaking from his obvious arousal. YN smiled, giving it a lick from the base to the tip before she used her hand to give it a few tugs. YN was confident in her moves, even though she had only done it a few times before in her life. She gained more confidence from the moans leaving Harry’s lips; they were deep and quiet, but she could hear them, and they caused her to squeeze her thighs together in hopes that it would give her some relief.
“YN… please,” It almost sounded as though he was pleading with her to do something, and YN almost moaned at the sound.
YN wraps her lips around the tip of Harry’s cock, beginning to bob her head up and down. One of her hands rested upon his thigh, whilst the other wrapped around the base of his cock, helping her with what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Her tongue lightly grazed his tip, earning a louder moan from Harry that egged her on further.
“Fuck… YN.”
Harry’s hands came to rest in her hair, helping her to move her head up and down his cock. It was a light tug that caused YN to moan around his cock, and she could feel Harry resisting from bucking his hips to meet her. Instead, she continued to bob her head, speeding up in hopes that it would help him recover from her teasing.
“YN gotta pull away,” Harry says after a minute or so, his grip on her hair tightening, “I’m gonna cum.”
YN doesn’t stop, however, instead, she keeps going until she hears him moan louder and start to cum down her throat. When she looks up at him, his head is thrown back, and his eyes are closed. She works her head up and down until he’s finished, only pulling away then. When she looks back up at him he has a look in his eyes that makes her assume that they aren’t done.
YN giggles as he puts his hands on her waist and pulls her up so she’s standing, immediately placing a kiss on her lips, seemingly not caring about the fact that his cum was on them. YN’s legs nearly gave out then and there, and she had to place her hands on his biceps to steady herself.
“Did that show my thanks?” She asked, tilting her head to the side innocently.
Harry wraps his arms around her thighs once more, picking her up effortlessly.
“Damn right, it did,” Harry starts to walk over to the door that she suspects goes into the house, “But I’m not done with you yet.”
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It was quiet at Clover’s, a lull mid-afternoon on a Friday before everyone picked their spots for the night. YN had spent an hour or so cleaning and drying the glasses that had been used earlier in the day, making sure that they were to have enough for the night ahead.
The repeated motion of washing and drying gave her time to think, and more often than not, she found herself daydreaming about her morning, which she had spent in Harry’s bed, wrapped up in his arms. The two of them had been pretty inseparable before, but after he had gifted her the bike, it had seemingly gotten even worse, if that was possible. It had been weeks since that day, and YN could probably count on one hand the nights she had spent alone since then. Harry waited every night for her after work, and even when he couldn’t she would return to his house and wait for him there.
They hadn’t spoken about what they were necessarily, but that didn’t matter to YN. She didn’t need a label to know how she felt about Harry, and she assumed Harry felt about her also. For the first time in a long time YN was happy, and even though she was only a bartender and that useless history degree of hers wasn’t doing much – she wasn’t yearning for something else, for something better. YN truly felt as though it couldn’t get any better than it currently was.
The door to the bar pushed open, and whilst YN thought it was probably a rider coming in for a drink, she was shocked to see that it was Mick, obviously dropping in to start his shift. Thankfully, since YN had taken the day shift she didn’t have to stay until close tonight, meaning that she could spend more time in bed with Harry to end her week.
“Hey, YN,” She offered Mick a smile, “Just lemme drop my shit in the back and then you can go on break.”
“Thanks, Mick.”
Once he was back out, and she had passed over what she was doing to him, she made her way outside with the sandwich that Harry had made for her earlier. She was going to make her lunch, but Harry insisted that he make it for her. YN smiled at the memory of her sitting upon his kitchen counter, clad only in one of his t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. They had laughed and joked and, at one point, had a break to dance around the kitchen to the song that was playing over the radio.
YN hadn’t had many relationships before, two at most she could think of, but they were never like this. They always felt transactional to YN. But with Harry, it truly felt as though they were two halves. There was a level of domesticity that YN loved more than anything with him, and every little task that they did together meant so much.
Once YN had eaten her sandwich, her thoughts filled with Harry and their morning. YN pulled her legs underneath her and began to read her book, knowing that she could get a chapter or so read before her break was over. It was a book about the Tudors she was reading, something that had been a passion of hers during her degree. It had been a while since she had read anything, but she supposed that the want came from her peace and happiness being restored.
She had just finished a chapter on Henry VIII’s Economic policy when she heard noise from the front of the bar. It was loud, and the voices that were speaking were quick, but it was muffled, so she couldn’t quite decipher what was being said. Putting her bookmark into place and closing the book, she pushed up from the chair and made her way towards the bar.
Mick was standing there, with three or four others in front of him. They looked panicked, and their words reflected that.
“Tell me again,” Mick placed his hands down on the counter, “I can’t tell a word you’re saying when you’re talking that quickly.”
“An accident, Mick,” It was Taylor who spoke, “There was an accident. We were riding along, and this truck came outta nowhere, sent him flying.”
YN moved towards them, her heart immediately starting to thump within her chest.
“Who?” Her words came out quickly, all of the men’s heads turning towards her, “Who went flying?”
“YN… I…” Taylor took a step towards her, his entire face dropping.
That was when she knew.
Her palms started to sweat, and her body felt heavy. There was a dizziness inside her head, and for one second she thought that she was going to fall to ground.
It was Harry.
“Where is he?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the tears finally starting to collect within her waterline.
“YN…” Mick started.
“No, Mick,” She shook her head, “Where is he? Tell me where he is!”
Taylor took another step closer towards her, “I don’t know. The woman in the store across the street from where it happened phoned an ambulance, I left before they came. If I hazard a guess, they’ll be on their way to the hospital by now.”
YN nodded and before she knew it she was stalking her way outside and towards her bike. Ignoring the tears that were clouding her vision she climbed upon. Just as she was about to start it, a hand touched her elbow. It was Mick. She almost broke down crying there and then.
“Don’t,” Mick shook his head, “You can’t drive like that, darlin’. Let Taylor take you. Please.”
“He has to be okay,” YN shook her head, the sobs starting to wrack through her body.
Mick nodded, helping her off the bike, “He will be. But, if you wanna get there safely, in one piece let the boys take you.”
YN nods, walking over to Taylor’s bike and hopping on behind him. Mick gave her hand one last squeeze.
“Send him my love, okay?” Mick spoke and YN nodded, not trusting herself to be able to reply in that moment.
Taylor started the engine, and before she knew anything, they were hurtling down the street. This time, though, she wasn’t thinking about the wind in her hair.
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mmso-notlikethat · 2 hours ago
Note
fic prompt! Since I just landed on a flight home, how about Buck and Tommy fly somewhere and this is the time that Buck gets to really see Tommy being a nerd about flying, even if he's not flying the plane himself. If it sparks joy. 😊
Sarah i know i'm so late, but I've been thinking about this since you sent it.. finally, an idea came by lol (hope you like it 🥰)
Buck was mid-ramble about the aerodynamics of commercial planes—something he'd picked up during a late-night internet deep dive before their trip—when he paused, noticing Tommy sitting rigidly beside him.
Tommy’s hand gripped the armrest tightly, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm as though he couldn’t quite keep them still. His jaw was set, lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze flickered back and forth between the window and the seat in front of him.
“You okay?” Buck asked, tilting his head toward him.
“Yeah, fine,” Tommy replied quickly, his voice clipped. His eyes didn’t meet Buck’s, and his grip on the armrest tightened slightly as the plane jolted, turning onto the main runway.
Buck didn’t press him. Instead, he shifted in his seat, leaning just a little closer.
As the plane accelerated for takeoff, Tommy exhaled sharply, his foot bouncing lightly against the floor. His fingers tapped the armrest before curling tightly, knuckles pale. His breathing was shallow—measured, as if keeping himself in check. Buck noticed without a word, his gaze flicking briefly to Tommy’s hand before sliding his own over it. His thumb brushed lightly against Tommy’s wrist, a quiet reassurance.
Tommy didn’t react at first, but then Buck shifted his hand, gently coaxing Tommy’s fingers to relax. Tommy hesitated, glancing at Buck out of the corner of his eye, but the tension in his grip eased. Slowly, almost shyly, his fingers relaxing enough for Buck to intertwine them with his own.
Buck didn’t say anything, didn’t even glance at him, just kept talking about the mechanics of lift-off as though nothing was out of the ordinary. His voice was steady and warm, grounding in a way that pulled Tommy’s focus from the roaring engines and the tilt of the plane as it left the ground.
Tommy’s grip tightened briefly around Buck’s hand, but this time it wasn’t out of nervousness—it was something quieter, steadier. Buck’s faint smile grew as he felt the shift, his thumb brushing lightly along the side of Tommy’s hand.
By the time the plane leveled out, Tommy had regained his composure. His usual confidence returned, and Buck could see it in the way he subtly shifted in his seat, reclaiming his space.
And their fingers stayed intertwined, neither of them letting go.
“Sorry about that,” Tommy muttered, finally looking at Buck. “Guess I do not like flying unless I’m the one in control.”
Buck shrugged, giving him an easy grin. “Makes sense. You’re used to being the guy behind the stick. Kind of weird to trust someone else to do the job.”
Tommy let out a soft laugh, nodding. “Exactly.”
Buck leaned closer, his eyes lighting up. “But you’ve got to admit, it’s kind of amazing to just sit back and think about how all this works. I mean, did you know that commercial planes—”
“—can fly even if one engine goes out?” Tommy interrupted; his tone slightly smug. He gave Buck a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a grin. “Come on, Evan. I’ve been flying helicopters long enough to know a thing or two about rotors and wings—definitely more than you.”
Buck feigned offense, his hand still resting lightly in Tommy’s. “First of all, rude. Second of all, helicopters are completely different from planes. And third, this is my thing. You don’t get to outdo me in rambling about cool stuff.”
Tommy chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat. “Fine. You get this one. But only because I already know all the facts.”
“Oh, do you?” Buck shot back, leaning forward in challenge.
Tommy’s face lit up in a way Buck rarely saw. “Okay, look, I’ll give you this,” Tommy began, his tone shifting into the cadence of someone who truly loved what they were talking about. “Planes are efficient and all, but helicopters? They’re the real magic. Think about it—rotor blades generate lift, but they’re also responsible for propulsion. You’re balancing pitch, yaw, and roll all at the same time. It’s like juggling while standing on a tightrope during a windstorm.”
Tommy kept going, now diving into the mechanics of different flight systems and the nuances between military and civilian helicopters. “And then there’s autorotation recovery—people think it’s impossible, but if you’ve got the skill and focus—”
He suddenly trailed off, catching Buck’s gaze. Buck was staring at him, eyes twinkling and a soft smile curling his lips.
Tommy froze, blinking. “What?”
“What what?” Buck asked, his smile widening innocently.
Tommy’s cheeks turned pink. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Buck chuckled. “Nothing, I’m just listening.”
“Oh…” Tommy hesitated, his blush deepening. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”
“Sorry? No, I like it. Come on, tell me more!” Buck urged, grinning. “But also, don’t be so biased about helicopters. I also need to know more about planes in general!”
Tommy’s lips twitched into a bashful smile before he nodded, launching back into his explanation with renewed enthusiasm. He gestured with his hands as he spoke, describing the differences in flight dynamics between fixed-wing and rotary-wing aircraft, his voice growing more animated with each passing second.
Buck watched him, mesmerized by the way Tommy’s eyes lit up, the way his hands moved as though he could hardly contain his excitement. Finally, Buck raised a hand, halting Tommy mid-sentence.
“Wait a minute,” Buck said, leaning in. Before Tommy could ask why, Buck kissed him—a brief, warm press of lips that left Tommy blinking in surprise.
Buck pulled back just enough to grin at him. “I might be starting to understand why you never stop me when I ramble.”
Tommy’s smile grew, wide and unrestrained, and before Buck could say another word, Tommy leaned in and kissed him again—a quick, joyful press of lips that made Buck’s heart flip.
When Tommy pulled back, his voice was soft and full of warmth. “I love you.”
Buck blinked, his grin spreading even wider. And he said in a mock-surprise “You do?”
Tommy rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward despite himself.
“Just making sure,” Buck teased, his tone light, as if he wasn’t already beaming. “Because I love you too.”
Tommy let out a laugh and without thinking, he brought their intertwined hands up, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Buck’s hand. The small gesture made Buck’s heart skip, but before he could say anything, Tommy leaned back, his grin turning playful. “Okay, so… does this mean I get to win the argument about helicopters being better?”
“Absolutely not,” Buck said, laughing as he bumped his shoulder against Tommy’s. “But I’ll let you try and convince me.”
He glanced at Buck, hesitant for a beat, then took a breath and continued where he left off. “Okay, fine. But since you’re so determined to make this a debate, let me explain why helicopters still have the edge—”
Buck interrupted with a mock groan, throwing his head back. “Oh, here we go again.”
Tommy just laughed, a bright, happy sound that filled the small space between them, and Buck couldn’t help but think that this—this—was his favorite sound in the world.
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yanderedollie · 3 days ago
Text
he’s the only one i could call
“fuck.” i groaned, leaning my head back against the headrest.
i lightly slammed my hands down on the steering wheel and lowered my music.
my car had broken down a few cities over from my own.
i picked up my phone to check the time.
3am… of course it is. nobody i know is gonna be up right now to save me.
“this is what i get for neglecting the check battery light” i think to myself. my car stalled a few more pathetic attempts to start as i realized i didn’t have the money for a tow service right now either.
i glanced around and picked up my phone to check maps. maybe there’s a 24 hour diner, or somewhere i can stay till it’s a reasonable hour.
nothing. i wanna throw my phone after i check how far i actually am from my apartment.
as i try one last attempt to move around the map and find a savior my heart drops to my stomach, and leaps back into my throat once i realize just exactly where i am.
two neighborhoods over is his house.
i giggle to myself as an idea flashes in my mind.
before i continue i’ll give context.
the whole reason i’m even cities over from my own was because i took a drive to clear my head. to try and forget him.
i had been trying everything i could but he was always gnawing at my brain. always. and i had been trying to control my obsessive tendencies after our fall out.
i had been doing good but, stuck in a neighborhood so close to his house made my body ache.
my fingertips tingled in anticipation as they hovered over my phone screen.
i wondered if he was even awake. he never really had a great sleep schedule. i checked the time again… 3:05.. i hope he’s not with her.
i nibbled at the inside of my cheek before i threw all reason out the window…
it rang a few times before a familiar, sleepy voice, answered
“[name]?”
my breath caught in my throat before i answered
“hey… hey i’m sorry i know it’s late- were you sleeping?”
“yeah but it’s fine.. are you okay? why are you calling?”
i smiled to myself. he still cares.
“i’m fine! i’m okay! swear. it’s just my car broke down really close to you. everyone i know is asleep…”
i trailed off. i probably sounded so desperate. it dripped off of me.
“[name].. i’m with my girlfriend.. cant- cant you call a tow service?”
i bit the inside of my cheek again. hard. i don’t care about his girlfriend. i’ll kill her.
i shook my head and nervously played with a loose thread at the end of my dress
“i.. uh.. dont have that kind of money right now.”
i sound genuinely pathetic
“i see… uh.. okay um i can come help you. just send me your location… and [name]?”
“hm?”
i practically whined at the idea of him coming to rescue me
“i’m just going to jump start your car and leave okay? please don’t make this a.. a thing”
that stung. i swallowed hard and nodded like he could see me
“yeah. it- it wont be.”
my phone beeped indicating he ended the call. i squirmed in my seat as i sent him a pin of my location.
make it a thing? what the fuck?
i wanted to rip out his throat.
shifting uncomfortably i waited outside in the cold. i leaned up against the drivers side window, shivering and pathetic.
when his cars headlights pulled onto the street i was on i felt my heartbeat quicken and my body tingle.
i was starving.
“hey..”
he said, walking up to my car with cables in his hand
“hi…i’m sorry again about this.”
i smiled softly at him. he always liked when i smiled at him that way… i hoped he felt something. anything.
he smiled back and i swear i could see his eyes linger over my body for a little too long
i felt like pouncing on him like a predator catching its prey.
“no worries. i told my girlfriend i’d be quick so, lets do this”
i felt rage flicker in my gut. stop fucking talking about her.
“right..”
i clearly sounded upset but i didn’t care.
my bones ached as i watched him attempt to jump start my car. he looked as gorgeous as ever.
it started pretty much instantly and i panicked. he couldn’t leave yet. no, no, no, not yet.
“w-wait!”
i practically yelled at him
he stopped abruptly, clearly taken aback by my sudden outburst
“what?!”
he was visibly concerned. never mad. he never really could get mad at me.
i felt tears well up in my eyes
“don’t leave…please.. i’m-i’m sorry. it’s been so long since i've seen you. i had to see you. i can’t stop thinking about you. please please don’t go…”
i felt so many emotions bubble inside of me, i felt like i was going to burst
he stared at me for a long time… then.. he smiled.
“cute.”
i swallowed and looked down at my feet
“stop. i’m sorry. that was really stupid.”
i didn’t look up but i heard him take a step towards me
“[name]….”
i looked up. he was right in front of me, closer to me than he had been in months.
i clenched my jaw. i could smell his cologne and my knees nearly buckled.
“stop it!”
i stepped back. i wanted him so bad but i knew it was wrong. i wanted to kill his girlfriend and rip out his throat, but i was trying so hard to be better. i was really trying
he let out a soft laugh and reached for my hand
“i guess i’m the one making it a thing…”
he held my hand in his so gently i felt myself melt.
“no. we can’t…”
i sounded small, pathetic, desperate. i clearly didn’t mean a word.
“hmm”
he hummed gently, moving his hand up to brush some loose hair behind my shoulder and trace my neck
“why not?”
i didn’t answer, i just held his gaze. it was so intense i nearly looked away.
i knew i could eventually get him where i wanted him…but.. i didn’t think it'd be this easy.
i shivered at his touch and something flickered in his eyes
“you look as beautiful as ever. i like this dress on you..”
he sounded starving now.
“it’s new”
i squeaked.
“mm very pretty, doll”
i let a whimper escape my lips at the nickname and he grinned
“come here.. let me warm you. it’s so cold out here…”
i stepped closer to him without a second thought. anything he wanted i would do it. anything at all.
he wrapped his arms around me and i couldn’t contain myself anymore.
i tangled my fingers into his hair and pressed my body against his, whimpering in the process.
i needed him bad. primal. animalistic
his hands roamed my body, grabbing and groping every part of me.
my breathing quickened as i melted into his touch.
“please..please”
was all i could manage to moan out.
he was barely touching me but i felt my pussy throb and dampen at every grab and tug from his hands
“you’re so pathetic. it’s adorable”
he cooed into my ear before nibbling it a little
we were still outside leaning against my car, his hand travelling up my dress and teasing the waist band of my panties
“[name]… please..”
i couldn’t control myself around him. he was so warm. so sweet. so perfect.
all of a sudden he pulled away tugging my body towards his car. fast.
i barely had time to register what was going on before i was in the backseat and he was looming over me.
i could see glimpses of him in the moonlight. he looked so disgustingly perverted and hungry for me. i fucking loved it.
“you’re such a fucking tease in this little dress. begging me to come save you, to rescue your pathetic ass…”
he said in breathy whispers as he groped my tits and pinched my nipples through the fabric of my dress
i moaned loudly and squirmed underneath him, feeling his hard cock pressed against my thigh
“i can’t believe you [name]. i can’t believe what you do to me”
he quickly slipped the dress off of me and his mouth was on my naked body in an instant. digging his nails into my waist and leaving sloppy, uncoordinated kisses, over my chest and stomach
“mmm… fuck… [name]… please just use me however you want”
i whimpered pathetically each time he moved his mouth or hands
“oh i will.”
i could barely stay conscious between his hands wrapped around my throat and him rubbing his thick cock against the fabric of my panties
it all felt so good i nearly came just from that alone
he ripped my panties off and shoved his cock into my dripping pussy with one swift motion, i saw stars
i coughed and sputtered from the pressure on my neck as he rammed into my cunt
“oh my god.. fuck.. [name] you feel incredible”
he released his grip on my neck to move a hand down to my aching pussy
he gently rubbed my clit as he pumped in and out of me and i could’ve sworn i saw god.
i whined like a pathetic dog as he violated me in ways i had never experienced from him before.
i knew our past sex was good but holy shit
“[name].. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry”
he apologized profusely as he struck me across the face and rammed into me harder
“you’re just so pathetic, i can’t help myself…”
all i could get out was pathetic whines as i looked up at him with desperation.
i wanted more. i wanted everything he could give me. whatever he wanted to do i would take it and i would love it.
“fuck. fuck. fuck. [name] you’re so tight”
he groaned loudly as he rubbed my clit faster
i clenched around his cock as i felt him release a huge load of hot cum inside my womb
i came at the same time, my pussy spasming on his cock as we both let out animalistic groans and pants, clinging to each other like this would be the last time
it was never the last time.
“oh my god..”
was all he could manage into my ear as he collapsed on top of me
i could feel our heartbeats colliding into one, pounding against both of our chests
i laid there staring up at interior of his car, catching my breath
i had asked him to come rescue me in hopes that maybe he’d feel something for me when he saw me
i asked him to save me because i needed to see him
come to find out…. he felt the exact same way
i smiled to myself as he played with my hair, still laying on top of me and softly breathing into my neck
we hadn’t spoken a word to each other yet but, i knew.
i knew he felt the same way i did
all this time i thought he had moved on
but we were just as desperate and perverted for each other as we had been back then
i really need to kill his stupid girlfriend. then he’ll be mine forever.
so much for “getting better”
i never will as long as he’s breathing. i never wanted to in the first place.
“i love you [name]”
he sighed softly, placing a gentle kiss on my neck
“i love you too”
i will never let my darling go… ever. again.
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mirandasidefics · 3 days ago
Text
But Home is Nowhere- Chapter 13
Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Dannan x Plus Size Reader.
Summary: Reader and Ruhn have a heart to heart and your friendship finally begins to move forward. Those from Midgard also learn some interesting information from their most recent trip.
Word Count: 5.8 K
Warnings: Some mild spoilers for Cresent City 3. If you haven't read this series, or this book I highly recommend that you do as parts of this story will make much more sense in the next chapter.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the delay of this chapter. December was an extremely rough month for me. I'm going to be talking with my psychiatrist about a possible medication change to see if that will give me some more energy and focus without adding to my anxiety.
As always, a HUGE thank you to my beta reader @hardcoremarvelfan for all her help!
Series Masterlist Divider by @/tsunami-of-tears
Previous: Chapter 12 Pt2 Next: Chapter 14
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Ruhn didn’t even register that he had fallen asleep until he turned over and a bright light attempted to penetrate the darkness of his closed eyes. Groaning, he turned back over, his arm draping over the plush body next to him. A soft gasp caused Ruhn to open his eyes to find (e/c) orbs staring directly at him. 
“Uh…” Ruhn cleared the gravel from his throat as he gave the woman a sheepish smile, “Hi?” (Y/N) glared at him for a brief moment. Ruhn held his breath waiting for her to berate and kick him out. However, her expression softened before she pressed her forehead against his chest. 
“You’re home,” Her voice was soft, muffled by how close her face was to his chest. Ruhn had to suppress the shiver her warm breath generated on his skin.  
“Of course,” He carefully tightened his hold on her waist. “I had no intention of not coming back. Just…took me a bit longer to get here than I thought it would.” She nodded against his chest; however, the softness of the moment was short-lived.
“You fucking jackass!” She perched herself on her elbow before smacking the center of his chest. “Do you have any idea how worried I was last night? Where the hell were you?” Ruhn couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him as he looked at her stern expression. 
“I’m sorry,” He apologized through his laughter. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I was out with Cassian. Apparently I looked like a kicked puppy, so he thought alcohol would make that better.”
“Don’t blame Cassian,” She narrowed her eyes. “You knew perfectly well that…” She paused, releasing a long breath through her nose. “You know what, you don’t owe me any explanation or apology. You’re a grown male and capable of making your own decisions.” Her eyes returned to his, and Ruhn had the good sense to recognize that there was more on her mind. He knew that a week of active avoidance between them would require work to recover from. 
“I do owe you at least one apology for what happened last week,” He corrected. “That is if you’re willing to listen to me now.”
“Excuse me?” The woman sat up fully. “You could have apologized at any-”
“Would you have actually listened to me before you had a chance to calm down?” He smiled softly. She narrowed her eyes again, but allowed him to continue. “I know that you needed some time.” After a moment she relaxed her expression, laying back down against the pillows. 
“I hate the fact you know me so well,” She turned her head to look up at the ceiling, “But you’re right. I did need that time.” 
“I know,” Ruhn teased, watching as she rolled her (e/c) eyes. He paused before his voice took on a more somber tone. “I am sorry for what I said on your birthday. I didn’t…I never want you to feel like you’ve been forgotten. You mean too much to…everyone here.” He paused, allowing his lackluster apology to sink in. He couldn’t tell her exactly what he revealed to Azriel a few hours ago. He couldn’t tell the woman lying next to him that he was in love with her. Not just yet anyway, not while there were things he needed to figure out if he wanted to do things right. 
“Thank you, Ruhn.” She turned on her side to face him again. “I know you didn’t mean to be hurtful. While there is a lot that needs to be…worked out; I just want things to go back to how they were before. Return to the day to day life with one of my best friends.” Ruhn could tell that her words also held a mixed bag of emotions. He doubted that he knew the subtle twitch of the corner of her lips before curling up into a half-hearted smile indicated she was attempting to prevent tears from springing to her eyes. 
“Friend…yeah” Ruhn paused. “I haven’t been a very good one of those have I? I’ve kept you at a bit of a distance, and that isn’t exactly fair to you.”  
“You went through a lot. You don’t have to tell me anything about your past if you don’t want to.” Her voice was gentle. “And I shouldn’t be holding that against you.” 
“That isn’t the reason I’ve held back,” He admitted. “I’ve been so scared that…it's been a few years and fear has ruled almost all of my actions. I don’t want that to continue, at least not with you.” 
(Y/N) nodded, understanding evident in her eyes as her gaze met Ruhn’s. A heavy silence fell between them. Ruhn could tell that she was allowing him time to decide how the rest of the morning would unfold. As the silence in the room pressed on, she remained curled up against his side, head resting on his shoulder. Her hand lazily-and likely absent mindedly-following the geometric pattern of the tattoo spanning from his left bicep to his shoulder and extending down to his left pectoral. 
He wanted to savor this quiet moment. The peace of lying next to her warmth and softness. If there was ever a perfect moment to open up to the human woman, now would be the time. Ruhn recalled that when he first started to share his personal history with Agent Daybright he spoke to her of his father. He would have to start with something different this time. It was only the right thing to do to ensure that he didn’t treat (Y/N) like a replacement.   
“Would you like to hear about my mother?” His voice broke through the comfortable silence. She tilted her head up, a soft hum of confirmation.
“Please.” Her voice was soft as she looked up at him. 
“Her name is Lorin…” As soon as Ruhn began to speak to her about his mother, it was like the flood gates had finally burst open. He rambled from one topic to another, and he certainly hadn’t intended to reveal so much of the trauma he endured at the hands of his father. She quietly listened to everything he shared. No judgment or pity filled her eyes. She never interrupted, only nodding occasionally to show she was following him. He even shared a few things that he had not spoken to many people about. Not only did he explain how the tattoos started as a way to cover up scars, but he also told her the meanings that each design held for him. 
A rendition of the Starsword, surrounded by a few simple stars, covered the inside of his left forearm. He recounted the details of his Ordeal, the desperation he felt to find a way to protect his friends, Declan and Flynn, his brothers if he was being honest. On the outer side of the left forearm were roses mixed with thorn covered vines. While he had grown to hate his Father’s villa in FiRo, it had been where he grew up. 
Above that, in the space of his inner bicep, was a simple design of The Embrace. He explained the image depicted Solas and Cthona coming together as one. This led to him talking to her about how each of Midgard’s houses were blessed by or honored at least one of the five major deities from his world. While Solas was the deity for his own House, he couldn’t remember exactly why he had been so compelled to have what was more commonly regarded as a symbol for the House of Earth and Blood inked into his skin. It took him a minute to realize this was the last tattoo he had gotten before their attempt to overrun the Asteri. Shortly after he had started speaking to Agent Daybright. However, he kept that last bit of information to himself as he remembered who Agent Daybright turned out to be…and which House she belonged to. 
He continued to his right arm, a series of braided knots covered the entirety of his right forearm, the design covering the area that held the worst of his scars. The outer bicep depicted a tree, its branches creating an intricately woven knot and its roots a mirror image. A perfect balance above and below. Her hands traced along each of the designs. He thought he heard her muttering to herself as she examined the tree, taking extra care to outline and follow each branch and root pattern.   
“I’ve seen this tree before,” She admitted softly. “Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life. It was believed in some parts of my world to be what holds the nine worlds of the cosmos.” The woman paused, and Ruhn could see the gears in her mind twirling. “No… ” With a quick shake of her head she sat up, pushing the covers to the side. 
“No, what?” Ruhn sat up as well, moving to follow her. 
“Where did you get the idea for this tattoo?” She asked, brows bunched up together as she stared at the black ink design. He had yet to add any color to it. Mainly because he wasn’t sure what colors best suited the image. It was one of his more rare black and white dreams where it first appeared. 
“I-I saw it in a dream,” His voice was slightly hesitant. He had never told anyone that before. He always made up some story about seeing it in an art piece on Avallen decades ago. But for some reason, the truth slipped from his lips as he looked at her. 
“What was the name of the deity for that scary house in Midgard again?” Her eyes remained on the roots of the tree as her hands twisted up sheets in front of her. 
“Scary…you mean the House of Flame and Shadow?” Ruhn continued to watch as (Y/N) nodded acknowledgement. “Urd, a Goddess of Fate. While she may be considered more of the patron of that house, all of Midgard honors her in some fashion.” 
“What do depictions of her look like on Midgard?” She finally looked at him. Again, Ruhn could see that her mind was putting together bits of information. Information that he knew she would only continue to withhold. 
“I honestly don’t really know. There aren’t very many pictures of statues of her outside of the Bone Quarter in Lunathion. That’s where her temple is believed to be. Only the dead and necromancers are really allowed over there. Unless you have a death mark. Which are not at all easy to get.”  She nodded again, chewing her lower lip and picking at her thumb nail. Her (e/c) eyes staring off into the distance. “What’s going on, (Y/N)?” His use of her name snapped her out of whatever rumination plagued her mind. 
“Nothing,” She shook her head a final time before a smile took over her features. “We should probably get some breakfast going. You can tell me some more about your Ordeal and the Drop.” 
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The months after Ruhn’s apology, things returned to normal for the most part. The biggest change for the better was that your and Ruhn’s friendship improved significantly. He moved all of his belongings back into your bedroom, including things that you didn’t know he still kept in the other room at all. He also resumed sleeping in the bed with you each night. The only exceptions were the times he went to Midgard, which were becoming more frequent. He explained that his friends, Declan and Flynn, had spent months looking on their own for any information regarding the Star sword and Truth Teller. This, of course, resulted in him finally opening up to you about all the events that preceded his capture by the Asteri. Listening to him recount the highlights of the year before you met had never made you feel more grateful for being a person of no importance back on your own world.  
His opening up did have perks as he also filled you in on many of the Fae traditions and life on Midgard in general. You had so many theories running through your head that your attention couldn’t be divided anywhere else when the subject of life on Midgard came up. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you listened to him so intently. The way those blue-violet eyes of his lit up…it was clear that cared deeply for those that had remained on Midgard. He missed them fiercely, his family. That’s really who they all were to him, his family. Despite Bryce and Hunt also being in Prythian alongside him, it was clear that he struggles with being separated from the bulk of his family. You had to suppress the intrusive desire of wanting to be included in that sentiment. Any time the thought arose you found yourself remembering that the events on your birthday were simply a fluke. Just because you grew close with the male, didn’t mean he saw you as anything more than a friend. He was no different in that regard to Lucien, a simple yet close friend. 
It was a strange concept to think about. You had been in Prythian for nearly five years, and you still felt like an outsider. An intruder posing as someone who is supposed to belong. To anyone looking in from the outside it would look that way. Nanny for the High Lord and Lady, friends with the first Valkyries in centuries, and routinely seen around Velaris with the elusive and infamous Shadowsinger. Regardless of what they all said or how close you had become over time, you could still feel the tension from where you were kept at a distance. You couldn’t exactly blame them either. You were mortal. You would die in just a few short decades while the rest of them would continue to live on for centuries if not millenia. 
The only person that you knew, with absolute certainty, saw you as an included member of their life was Nyx. You were well aware of how much the little heir adored you, and you adored him in turn. Knowing that there would be at least one person- 
The landing of Hunt’s feet on the cobblestones outside the townhouse distracted you from further diving into a downward spiral. The crunching of stone was followed by the beating of wings as he took off again, likely to get whomever he had left over at the Moonstone gate they built at the Sidra’s edge near the River House. No sooner than hearing the angel take off again did Bryce burst through the front door. 
“(Y/N)!” Her voice held an excited sing-song lilt. The corner of your  lip twitched up as she rounded the corner from the foyer into the parlor. Bryce’s crimson hair flowed around her, reminding you that despite her half human heritage she looked fully Fae. You tried to push the faint sting of envy, reminding yourself that she doesn’t exactly enjoy that half of her heritage. Though you knew she’d be grateful when she finally realized her long life span will allow her to have as much time with her mate and found family that many humans crave.  
“I have a surprise for you,” Bryce continued, bringing a wrapped gift box out from behind her back. The absolute look of mischievous glee on her face was the only thing that gave you any pause. You still took the fairly large box from her outstretched arms before the two of you resumed sitting on the sofa. 
“What is this? My birthday was six months ago and it’s not yet solstice,” You asked, eyeing the perfectly square package. Nothing about the box or its wrapping gave away what the contents could possibly be, and there wasn’t anything that either of you had specifically discussed her getting from a more “modern” world. 
Bryce had been kind enough to obtain some basic feminine essentials for you during some of her past trips to Midgard. You were extremely grateful for her efforts in gathering a variety of period products for you. You spent your first few cycles bleeding through scraps of cloth and felt like you were practically confined to your bedroom and the ensuite bathroom. You quickly decided that you did not want to spend a week every month in that condition. While you had asked the females in your new life how they managed their own cycles, Nesta explained that High Fae only experienced two cycles a year. Due to the infrequency of cycles the pain was reported to be nearly unbearable and resulted in many females being completely bedridden. Nesta also confirmed that scrap linens were the preferred method of keeping things clean for humans and Fae alike, regardless of the financial resources available. 
“Just open it,” Bryce encouraged, plopping the box into your lap. “Especially if you don’t want the guys to see what’s inside.” She tapped the top of the box, a shallow sounding thud indicating that the box was entirely filled with only the Gods knew what. You lifted the box, examining the meticulous wrapping. Each corner of the golden paper was tucked in tightly and secured. 
“What the hell did you get then?” You narrowed your eyes in her direction as you held the box up to your ear and began to shake it. “Doesn’t Hunt know anyway?” You set the box down when it didn’t make any sounds. 
“Nope,” Bryce chirped. “If he did, he would not have let me give that to you.” Her smile grew as she patted the box again. 
“Okay, now I’m worried.” You eyed her warily, your fingers subtly twitching against the smooth surface of the paper. “Do I even want to know what this is?” 
“Yes, you do.” She moved closer to you on the couch. “I can say with absolute certainty that some, if not all, of the items in there will be…useful in the future.” Her amber eyes shone as bright as the starlight that simmered under her light bronze skin.  You rolled your eyes at her playful insistence and quickly tore open the golden wrapping. The box itself was fairly nice, sturdy and could be easily kept to hold whatever its contents already included. 
“I swear to whatever is holy Bryce if this is some-” The words immediately died on your tongue and your jaw literally dropped. Bryce erupted in a fit of giggles at seeing your shocked expression. Inside the box was a plethora of items that made up what you could only describe as a ‘family planning care package’. You could admit upon immediate inspection that at least half the items in the box would be useful. PH balancing feminine wash, extra sanitary pads, a few reusable menstrual discs and cups. The other items…well, she was right that you definitely didn’t want anyone else seeing the contents. Especially Ruhn. You didn’t know how you’d explain the presence for the large box of condoms, two decently sized bottles of lubricant, two packages of pregnancy tests and…
“Ovulation tests? Are you fucking kidding me Bryce?” You wanted to be mad, but her laugh was too infectious. You fell into your own fit of laughter right alongside her. Through your laughter you took another look at the box of condoms.
“Fucking hell, how much sex do you think I’m going to be having?” You held up the box of condoms, a variety pack, and began to examine it. “One hundred condoms? Really?” You shook the box at her for added emphasis on just how ridiculous the item was. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure that one of my closest friends had everything that she would need.” Bryce managed to defend through her continued laughter. “Especially if she is going to continue sleeping with my brother.” 
“Bryce! You know perfectly well Ruhn and I are not like that,” You placed the care package in between the two of you while the box of condoms remained in your grasp. 
“Sure, whatever you say,” She smirked, the deep red of her lip stick amplifying her mischievous tone. “Then this can all be for whenever you do meet that special someone, which you will.” She held up a finger to silence the objection which was poised on the tip of your tongue. “I know this, because you’d be-” 
“A novelty, Bryce. Anywhere I go in this city I am looked at as a novelty.” Your voice took on a slight edge. “I am the only human living in the Night Court. Hell, I’m the only human living in all of Prythian.” You sighed, setting the box of condoms in your lap. 
“Which is exactly why I picked a variety pack,” She smirked, completely ignoring your statement. Your eyes followed her elegant finger as it pointed to the side edge of the box.  “Glow in the dark.” 
“Oh sweet Jesus,” Your laughter returned and doubled as you read the words on the box, directly under the list of flavors making up a quarter of the box’s contents. Tears of laughter quickly filled your eyes as Bryce broke down right beside you on the couch in the parlor. The two of you were so busy laughing that you didn’t hear Hunt return with Ruhn in tow. 
“What are you two so giggly for?” Ruhn smiled from the entrance to the parlor. Still facing Bryce your eyes went wide, the box of family planning items still opened between you and the half fae female. Without even needing the ability to speak mind to mind, Bryce immediately started helping you repack the box with lightning quick reflexes. 
“Nothing! It’s nothing!” You shouted, sliding the box under the couch. Once it was fully tucked away you looked up at the male. Your jaw dropped for the second time and gasped, “What the fuck did you do to your hair!” You stared at Ruhn, eyes watering as you stood to meet him. The past two months Ruhn had allowed the hair on the shaved side of his head to fill in. You had been unsure as to why, but now you knew. You lifted your hand to the right side of his head, where the beautiful waist length locks had once flowed. 
“I know,” Ruhn brought his hand up and gently grasped your fingers. His hair was short, equal in length on both sides. The style honestly reminded you of Azriel’s typical cut. However, the fresh cut combined with Ruhn’s features made his resemblance to Rhysand all the more striking. 
“You’re not sleeping next to me when you look like him,” There was no laughter in your voice. 
“It will grow back, don’t worry,” He reassured, his fingers interlacing with yours as he led you both back to the couch. His arm easily fell along the back of your shoulders as he leaned in to kiss your temple. You felt your lips twitch trying to suppress the smile. Your friendship had certainly gone back to normal, yes, but there were times when he was a little more affectionate than before. Just like he was right now. From the corner of your eye you saw Bryce’s wide knowing grin. You’d have to remind her, yet again, that your relationship with Ruhn was platonic. Even though a small part of you wanted the dynamic to go in a more romantic direction. 
“I tried to tell him he didn’t need to cut it that short,” Hunt joined in on the conversation, sitting himself on the arm of the couch behind Bryce. His own hair also appeared freshly cut compared to the last time you saw him. 
“And steal your and Cassian’s signature look? I don’t have the wings to pull it off, ” Ruhn joked, his blue-violet eyes turning towards you. “Besides, it's not exactly like I wanted to cut it.”  His thumb gently stroking the sliver of exposed skin on your shoulder. 
“So why did you?” You asked, your hand reached out again and this time he allowed you to pinch a few strands between your fingers. 
“Well, I had planned to just grow it all out.” He answered, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “But that prick was right. Even with the long hair I’d be too recognizable.” You bunched your eyebrows together as you looked between them. 
“Our father,” Bryce supplied, her tone now short and clipped. You nearly choked on air at the news. A sinking feeling in your stomach had you anticipating that this last trip was much more eventful than any of their previous trips to Midgard had been over the past few years. 
“Your father?” You angled your body towards Ruhn. “You saw him?” 
“Yeah, and we actually had a fairly interesting conversation,” Ruhn admitted. 
“If you count not immediately being turned over to the Asteri as interesting,” Hunt added, a slight smirk on his lips. You blinked, trying to prepare yourself for whatever asinine reasoning they could have had for going to such a well guarded location such as the Autumn King’s villa given their high profile fugitive status. 
“Why would you even risk a trip like that?” You focused your attention on Ruhn, even though you were fairly certain the entire meeting was likely an impromptu affair by Bryce. Both siblings had told you all about their respective histories with the selfish male that sired them. It went without saying that you had no desire to ever meet the asshole. “How do you know that he isn’t planning to just turn you in the second you all get back to Midgard? What was so important that you had to risk-”
“Easy sweetheart,” Ruhn reassured, his arm bringing you closer to his frame. “We had very good reason, and at this point seeing him and getting the information we got out weighed the risks.” He met your eyes, his expression soft as he tried to subtly comfort your worries.  
“Fine,” You relented. “What did you learn then?” You settled back into your spot on the couch as you waited for them to explain.
“We learned what the Star Sword and Truth Teller may be able to create when used together,” Bryce answered. “Something that may be able to destroy the Asteri.” Her voice no longer held any hint of the playful spirit it had moments ago. You sat up straighter. This was news you had not anticipated hearing. In fact, you had hated to admit that you long gave up any hope that you would live long enough to hear any good news for your friends in their efforts to rescue their world. If the blades could truly be combined to destroy the Asteri, well that was worth risking a visit to their father. Honestly, that was information worth risking everything. 
“What…” You were at a loss for words. “W-what can they do?” Your voice was hesitant, and you hoped that they didn’t see the true reason behind your question. You knew it was important for them to be able to go home. You also knew that once the Asteri were gone, the three of them would return to Midgard permanently. You tried to stop the thoughts of how much you would lose if the trio left Prythian so soon. Specifically, the loss of one of the people that had become so important to you. The fact that you didn’t want to be parted from Ruhn permanently hit you like a ton of bricks. It was only Ruhn’s gentle squeezing of your shoulder that pulled you back to the moment.  
“Legend has it the two blades are supposed to open a portal when combined,” Bryce’s voice was eerily calm, “Specifically, a portal to Nowhere.” 
“What?” You stared at her, waiting for a punchline that never came. “Nowhere? Really? You’re telling me the giant skull of a deceased Celestial is real and floating around somewhere in the universe?” All three of them looked at you as if you had morphed into said giant skull. “Guardians of the Galaxy? Come on, you don’t have the MCU or Marvel comics in your world?” While Bryce and Hunt stared at you with confused expressions, you could make out the subtle twitch of Ruhn’s lips as he suppressed a desire to laugh. “Nowhere is the name of the skull in the Marvel Cinematic Universe…or multiverse…point is I was trying to be funny.” 
“You are funny,” Bryce’s lip finally curled up in a half smile. “At least I assume you are when your audience knows what it is you’re referencing.” You gave her an exasperated smile before tilting your head back and groaning.  
“Okay, so what the hell does your father mean by ‘Nowhere’ then?” You asked leaning back against the couch. Ruhn’s arm remained draped over your shoulder, his thumb resuming its gentle strokes along your skin.  
“Unfortunately the fucker was less than helpful in that regard,” Bryce’s good humor was gone again at the reminder of the Autumn King. 
“She means that he wasn’t entirely sure,” Ruhn clarified. “All he found on the subject was what the blades were supposed to do and nothing more. However, he indicated that maybe the Fae archives on Avallen held more information that he had yet to locate.” You couldn’t suppress the snort quick enough. Hearing the name of the island where the Fae first settled on Midgard always amused you. Another item to the growing list of similarities between your world and theirs. 
“Well that is maddeningly unhelpful,” You shook your head softly and pulled your legs up onto the couch. You leaned your body closer to Ruhn’s. 
“Yes, but there is one positive.” Hunt gently reminded both siblings. “He already had Flynn and Dec looking in the archives.” 
“They didn’t even find anything useful,” Bryce countered, crossing her arms over her chest. 
“Yes they did,” Ruhn snapped. “The series of maps they found-”
“Show nothing but the fact that land masses change over millennia,” Bryce spat. 
“Bryce,” Hunt’s calm tone cut through their bickering. “It may not have been what we were hoping to find, but the information is interesting.” Hunt took a moment to look towards you. “Dec and Flynn found maps of Avallen, some of which included smaller islands that had since disappeared. The disappearance of the smaller islands wasn’t over thousands over years, but within a couple of decades, which makes the information interesting.”
“Yeah, land masses don’t change that quickly Bryce,” Ruhn added childishly. You smacked his chest before shushing him. His sister responded with her own equally childish response of sticking her tongue out in Ruhn’s direction. 
“That is interesting,” You looked between Ruhn and Hunt. “But I’m with Bryce on this. How is that information relevant to defeating the Asteri?” 
“It likely isn’t relevant,” Hunt conceded. “But the land where the Starborn Fae settled in Midgard underwent massive changes and significant loss of fertile land. I don’t think that’s a coincidence when their former home underwent similar changes.” 
“The Prison island…” Your voice trailed off as Hunt nodded, a soft approving smile on his face.
“I told you she was smart,” Ruhn boasted. “Hunt and I came to the same conclusion. Something caused the islands to become barren.”
“Well according to that magical hologram Silene left, the land was reduced to its waste land status after she made it into the prison,” Bryce added. “A collection of nasties poisoning all traces of life apart from themselves.” You felt the gears turning in your mind. It was hard to argue that both islands would become practically devoid of life around the same time by chance. The list of potential reasons was endless. Anything from a saturation of dark energy to a specific spell to a lack of magic entirely. You also speculated that perhaps Midgard and whatever planet you were currently occupying were mirrors or alternative versions of each other. Though, there was more evidence that both worlds were part of the same universe rather than some type of multiverse bullshit. A confirmation of the existence of a multiverse was not quite on your bingo card for expected life experiences. Then again, neither was going through a magical portal and landing in a world that you- 
“Bryce, you need to take me to the Prison island again.” You turned to face her fully. “Please. I don’t care what Rhysand says, I need to see the island and those tunnel carvings for myself.” The half-fae female looked at you, her eyes studying the determination on your face. 
“Alright,” Bryce’s conspiratorial smile returned. You knew that she enjoyed any opportunity to piss off the High Lord. “When do you want to leave? We can even go right now if you want.” She stood from her spot on the couch.  
“Oh no,” Ruhn immediately stated, also standing from his spot next to you on the couch. “You’re not going by yourselves.” 
“I agree,” Hunt looked at Bryce. “I know that you’ve been down there several times now, but you’ve made the Drop and you’re a badass, but…(Y/N) is human.” He softened his eyes as he looked at you. 
“Are you Alphaholes for fucking real?” Bryce scoffed, hands immediately going to her hips. “She has daily training with two 500 year old warriors AND the two of you. You really think that she’s not a badass in her own right by now?” Despite Bryce’s faith in your self-defense skills you knew Hunt was right. Your eyes met Hunt’s, his expression reflecting what you knew was true. You may be able to defend yourself in some scenarios, but your body couldn’t heal itself in the same way if you were to get injured. The chances of you surviving any major injury were significantly smaller. However, the reminder that you were simply a fragile human stung nonetheless. 
“Yeah, I am being ‘for real’,” Ruhn met his sister’s glare. “We have no idea what kind of creatures are in the prison. We also don’t exactly know our way around apart from a single path down to that room leading to the tunnels.” Bryce rolled her eyes. 
“Well I can’t teleport more than two others plus myself. So unless you’ve managed to finally learn long distance travel through your shadows you might be stuck here as look out Big bro,” Her smile was less than friendly.  
“She needs protection Bryce, and no offense to Hunt, but if she went down he’s more likely to protect you than her,” Ruhn looked at the angel. You watched in silence as the two males just stared at each other. The two of them were clearly having a mind to mind conversation. 
“You know it's rude to have a private conversation in front of others,” You quipped, trying to help ease the tension from before. You turned and started to make your way to the staircase. “I’m going to get a warmer coat so the two of you had better figure out who's going with us by the time I get back.” 
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General tag list: @loving-and-dreaming
Series tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie
@fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion
@randomness-it-is @thehighlordishere @rachelnicolee @hardcoremarvelfan @awkardnerd @sundayysunshine
@jpgtae @cheneyq @morganwdarius @latinxbipride @catharticlovewriter
@mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @celmentine111002 @abacteriamicroorganismsalmonella
The crossed-out name means tumblr wouldn't let me tag you
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were-all-idjits-here · 20 hours ago
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Accidental "I Love You"
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Pairing: Sam Winchester x gender neutral reader Summary: While enlisting Sam's help to prank Dean, you may or may not blurt something out in the moment that seems to strike an unexpected chord with Sam. Warnings: some cussing; teeny, tiny bit of angst in that Sam and reader are two idiots who don't realize the other is in love with them. A/N: dipping my toe back into writing after some time off with this one. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!
*
“What the hell, Dean?” Sam growled as the three of you returned to the motel room. He gestured for you to enter in front of him before slamming the door behind him and holding his hands out in a what the fuck gesture.
“Yeah, seriously,” you grumbled, taking your backpack—now full of loose Skittles thanks to the elder Winchester—towards one of the two beds in the room. “I don’t even like Skittles.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean said, just as irritated. “Look, I thought it was Sam’s backpack. It’s not my fault you two have the same one!”
You set your backpack down on Dean’s bed. “Mine’s blue!”
“Navy blue!” Dean corrected. “Sam’s is black, it looks…almost…the same.”
“No, it doesn’t!” you and Sam cry in unison. Although you were no stranger to watching the brothers’ prank war, they’d never targeted you. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really a big deal; it wasn’t as if it was hot enough to melt the candy and create a sticky mess. But after that particular hunt, you just weren’t in the mood and appreciated Sam’s rage on your behalf.
Dean sighed. “Well, Y/N—I’m sorry. I was aiming for Sam and promise I’ll be more careful next time.”
You flopped down on the bed you and Sam had claimed. “Least you could do is buy us some grub.”
“If I go to that sandwich shop in town and get you a five-cheese grilled cheese, am I forgiven?”
“Only if you get the artichoke dip with it.”
“You got it. Sammy, I’ll get you…something much more boring, don’t worry.” With that, he fled from the room.
You sighed as the Impala’s engine growled to life outside, exchanging annoyed, drained glances with Sam as he sat down at the small, round table in the corner.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I can help you clean your bag out—”
“Nah.”  You stood and took the offending object from Dean’s bed. “Now that he’s gone, I’ve got a better idea.”  You ripped back the comforter (if it could be called that) off the bed before shoving back the top and fitted sheet, unzipping your backpack and upending it onto the mattress.
Sam laughed so hard, he scared you. You glanced over at him, smiling mischievously as you used your hands to spread the candy out more evenly.
“Well, here, at least get it across the whole bed in case he rolls.” Sam shot up out of his chair and tore the rest of the blankets and sheets off the mattress, helping you pour more Skittles until a fair amount covered the whole mattress.
You groaned as the two of you put the fitted sheet back on carefully over the minefield that was now Dean’s bed. “Oh god, the poor cleaning lady.”
Sam chuckled. “We’ve left behind worse messes, believe me—oh, actually…”
As you finished re-making the bed, Sam ran over to his backpack on the table and pulled out a whoopie cushion. He gave you a wicked grin as he grabbed the pillow off the side Dean usually slept on, stuffing it into the bottom of the case.
You cackled. “That’ll be right in his ear! He’s gonna go deaf!”
“Exactly.” Sam gave you a big, toothy grin and you couldn’t help but stare. He had such a nice smile that was so rarely on display, and you took pride in being one of the few to draw it out of him.
He stared back for a long moment before clearing his throat and putting his hands in his pockets. “You know this is gonna initiate you into the prank war now though, right? Dean won’t hold back.”
“Oh, I look forward to it.” You held out your hand across the bed. “We could be allies though and not tell Dean, really mess with his head. Truce?”
Sam smiled and shook your hand. “Truce.” He glanced back down at the bed. “You don’t happen to have any glue, do you?”
“Oh god, for what?”
He shrugged. “Could glue some Skittles to his stuff.” He joined you on your side of the bed to riffle through his duffle bag on the floor behind you. “Oh! I might have some superglue left from forever ago.”
“Do I even wanna know what you used that for?”
He pulled his bag up onto your shared bed and sat as he riffled through it. “We had a bit of a prank war a while back and I, uh…might’ve put super glue all over his beer bottle in a restaurant so he couldn’t put it back down.”
You threw your head back and laughed, giving Sam a playful shove to the shoulder. “Oh god, I love you.”
Sam’s head suddenly snapped up, the smile half-frozen on his face as he stared at you with a deer-in-the-headlights look. He gave you a breathy laugh before quickly returning his attention to his bag. “Uh…yeah, I—um…”
Your face fell. “Sam?”
“I’m okay,” he said a little too quickly before pulling a small tube out of one of his bag’s front pockets. “Ah, damn, it’s empty.”
Awkwardness still hung thick in the air, making you wonder if your joking I love you had revealed too much about how you actually felt. You suddenly felt a little dizzy at the thought of having just given yourself away only to have your and Sam’s friendship slowly start to crumble in the face of inevitable rejection. You two had always been close and even though the stares had been a little longer lately, if he felt the same about you, you would’ve known by now…right? And surely he wouldn’t have had that reaction just now.
You tried to hide the shakiness of your breath. “We’ll, uh…have to make sure we get more next time we’re at the store then.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at you nervously before giving you a quick smile that disappeared in a hurry.
You hovered by him awkwardly for a few moments, trying to glance at him without catching his eye while he was suddenly very interested in the depths of his bag, empty superglue tube in hand.
“I’ll just—” he started.
“I’m gonna—”  you tried, beginning to move out of the aisle between beds towards the bathroom just as he stood up, bumping straight into you. With his speed and bulk, however, he almost knocked you over and quickly grabbed your forearms to stop you from tumbling back into the nightstand.
“Sorry!” he cried, finally meeting your gaze.
You had grabbed some of his shirt in your fists on instinct and for a moment, you stood transfixed again. Up close, his eyes really were pretty—they were so versatile: some days, they were a deep, dark brown that reminded you of chocolate and looked so warm and inviting, you wanted to just sink into him. Others, like today, flecks of green popped out in just the right lighting, reminding you of a sunflower field. You didn’t realize he was staring back at you with just as much intensity until his thumbs began rubbing gentle circles into your forearms.
You shook your head slightly to clear it. “I’m, ahem, gonna use the bathroom while it’s free.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course! I—yeah!” He quickly let you go, stepping out of your way and gesturing for you to move first.
You quickly yanked a change of clothes out of your now clean bag before hurrying to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door and whatever had just happened away behind you.
Later that night, after you and Sam had already settled in bed, Dean finally emerged from the bathroom. Being on the side closest to his bed, you turned away to face Sam to hide your smile. You found him with his eyes open as well, biting his lip to avoid laughing.
Dean made a contented sigh as you heard the covers thrown back, followed by several cracking and popping noises, then the loud flbbbpppppttttt of the whoopie cushion. “Son of a bitch! Oh, god, ow—fuck—what the hell!”
You covered your mouth with your hand in a vain attempt to hide your laughs, seeing Sam do the same out of the corner of your eye.
“I know you two assholes are awake,” Dean grumbled before climbing back out of bed and checking under the fitted sheet. “Oh, this is war, Y/N.”
���Enjoy your Skittle bed, dickhead,” you said over your shoulder, pulling a loud guffaw from Sam.
“I’m sleeping on the damn couch,” Dean muttered before you heard him move across the room.
You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself, and tried to focus on evening out your breathing. After several minutes, right before you crossed the threshold of sleep, you could’ve sworn you felt warm fingers brushing your cheek.
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monstrousmuse · 11 months ago
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Howl’s Moving Castle.
Hooty’s Moving Hassle.
…Bill’s Moving Bustle.
(Or better yet, Bill’s Billding Bonanza.)
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chloesimaginationthings · 10 months ago
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William Afton into the FNAF-verse
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lexcys · 2 months ago
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★ observing rafe cameron x reader
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summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were
a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered
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you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices
stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived
you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye
rafe cameron
somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends
while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you
she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground
''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun
''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again
glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off
''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie
all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know
you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity
taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand
even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing
rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring
you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy
he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?
it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him
cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier
you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode
hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin
while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging
fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe
it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty
you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile
noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped
at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance
given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact
heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right
after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder
you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly
examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you
this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control
strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering
walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding
the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored
before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile
relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom
he must’ve left already, right?
''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door
your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom
''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit
you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around
immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face
''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back
''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''
you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''
''ditto'',
apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily
''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''
letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it
if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'
you nod quickly, meeting his gaze
looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge
taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head
he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer
''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit
you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book
like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe
for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you
but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,
''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''
oh
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slttygeto · 4 months ago
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༉‧₊˚. "Shut up, mom!" prank with JJK men.
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➜ featuring: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru.
➜synopsis: your child(ren) has a death wish for sure.
➜note: wasn't able to pick a name for nanami's child. also sorry to the anon who sent this, i had a hard time understanding the request at first. anyway, part 2?
༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!
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༉‧₊˚. NANAMI KENTO
“You need to start learning how to fold your clothes,” you mention casually to your daughter as you carry a basket of warm laundry to the couch.
“Why would I do that?” Nanami’s eyes look up from his book, but he doesn’t budge.
“When you move out, you will only have yourself to rely on,” you continue with the advice and your daughter rolls her eyes as she makes her way to the kitchen.
“Ugh moving out this, moving out that. Just say you want to get rid of me.”
“What–I would never, I’m just reminding you that one day you will become an adult and–”
“Oh just shut up, mom!” 
You truly gave birth to a mini you, a prankster. When you first saw the tiktok trend, you and your daughter had giggled to yourselves at the thought of getting a reaction out of her father. Though, you did warn her of the repercussions. Your husband did not play when it came to showing respect to you.
“I beg your pardon?” Nanami sits up from the couch so fast, it almost makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t have time to react, or hold him back before he is storming towards the kitchen where your teenage daughter was hiding. “What did you just say to your mother?”
“I said shut up, because she was bothering me.”
“And you think that’s one way to speak to my wife?” You see his eyebrows furrow, he even slams the book he was reading down on the kitchen counter so hard that his arm veins are about to pop out.
“Kento,” you walk up behind him, calling out his name softly.
“No, let me take this.”
“No baby listen–”
“I said I will take this.” It’s only when he repeats himself in a stern manner, that your daughter starts to giggle nervously.
“Daddy, it was a prank.”
“Yeah, baby it’s a prank.” You rub his shoulders and biceps reassuringly. Your daughter quickly wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest.
“I’d never be disrespectful like that.”
“Yeah well, it almost gave me a heart attack,” his voice is now much softer and warmer as he exhales, running his fingers through his daughter’s hair. He pulls you towards him and kisses your forehead before patting his daughter’s head.
“Now, whose idea was it?”
“Mommy’s.”
“Hey!” 
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༉‧₊˚. GOJO SATORU
“Hey Ryuu, could you take out the trash please?” 
“No, I’m busy.” Satoru’s ears perk up at the sound of his son’s tone. But he doesn’t budge from where he’s standing in the kitchen.
“Baby, it’s been sitting there all day and it’s full. Could you please–”
“Shut up, mom. I said I’m busy.”
Normally, Satoru wasn’t easy to rile up. His relationship with his son was hilarious, one where he doted on his child whilst the latter pretended as though he couldn’t stand all the love and affection he received from his dad. But despite all the love that Satoru had for his son, you were number one. You come first, you are his wife and the mother of his child. When his son will leave, you will be the one he gets to spend the rest of his time with–and when he decided to marry you, a child wasn’t even in the picture.
So he will be damned if he was just going to stand there and let his son talk to you like that.
You freeze when you feel a sudden surge of cursed energy–you knew your husband when he got angry, it clouded over the rational part of his brain. So when you see him start to walk upstairs where his son is, you have to physically grab his arm to stop him. Thank god the infinity was off.
“Satoru– toru! Baby!”
“Who the fuck does he think he is, huh?” His eyes are glowing. You really shouldn’t have played this prank on him.
“It’s a prank baby.” 
“A prank?” It’s fascinating how this man can go from 0 to 100 back to 0 so quickly. He calms down so fast, glancing at the top of the stairs where he sees his son standing with his hands in his pockets.
“I told her it would be a bad idea.”
“I–hey! I didn’t think it was gonna be this bad,”
“I did,” Ryuu starts to walk down the stairs and past you two. “He’s said it before. He doesn’t play when it comes to people showing you respect, even if it’s his own son.” 
Satoru can only sigh at his son’s words before staring at you. “Don’t do that again.”
“I won’t…But I won’t lie, seeing you riled up like that–”
“I’m too old to have a sibling!”
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༉‧₊˚. GETO SUGURU
Your girls were a giggly mess. You shush them before saying very loudly.
“In what world is this acceptable?” 
“Mom,” your daughter, Tsukimi, feigns an annoyed tone, refusing to look up from her phone. “I really don’t care.”
“But I do.” You stand over her bed, motioning for her twin sister to get into the role as well.
“Does it matter?” Asahi uses the same annoyed, bored tone. One that quickly catches Suguru’s attention. He walks into the main area from the garage before hearing the argument upstairs. 
Quickly wiping his hands with the dirty rag attached to his pants, he starts to make his way up to your twin daughters’ room to see what it was about. 
“Of course it does, I’m your mother.”
“You’re really just pushing it.”
“You sneaked out last night! Do you know how disappointed your father will be?” Suguru freezes up at the revelation. But he doesn’t let his disappointment or anger get the best of him, maybe the four of you can work this out–your girls were at a rebellious age, this was bound to happen and all he needs to do is figure out a way for all of you to get along without–
“Aren’t you supposed to be our best friend or something?” Tsukimi sits up on the bed, furrowing her eyebrows in a way that reminds you how similar her and her father’s features are. 
“Right now I’m your mother.” 
“Oh would you just shut up?”
A loud slam makes the three of you flinch, and you turn to find Suguru standing by the door looking as angry as a raging bull.
“Who said it.”
“Wha–”
“Who said it. Who was it?” He is so furious you could see steam coming out from the top of his head. “Have you lost your fucking minds to be talking to your mother like that? Did I fail at educating you or what?”
“Suguru–”
“No,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you out of the room. “I need to talk to them.”
“No wait, listen–”
“I don’t want to hear it.” When you see that he had a stern look on his face, you realize that you need to save your daughters from the prank.
“It was a prank. I promise you.” 
“It really was a prank,” your twin daughters are sitting on the same bed, looking as sheepish and as guilty as ever. 
“And it was my idea,” Tsukimi adds. 
“And I didn’t stop her.” Your thumbs trace his cheeks, smiling apologetically at him. “Sorry,” 
Suguru sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he shakes his head.
“Fucking prankters. That almost gave me a heart attack.”
“But admit it, we’re good actresses, right?” Asahi asks with a grin and Suguru chuckles before ruffling her hair.
“Yeah, you sure are.”
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➜ ┊: COMMISSIONS | KOFI
2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.
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pucksandpower · 1 month ago
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Your Love Is My Drug
Oscar Piastri x Norris!Reader
Summary: Lando’s teammate is behaving strangely, so of course the logical assumption is that Oscar must be on drugs (the truth ends up being so much worse … for Lando)
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The McLaren garage buzzes with activity as mechanics scurry about, preparing for the upcoming race weekend. Lando leans against the wall, his brow furrowed in concentration as he observes his teammate from across the room.
Something’s off about Oscar today. Actually, if Lando’s being honest with himself, something’s been off about Oscar for weeks now. The usually composed Aussie seems ... different.
Fidgety.
Distracted.
As if on cue, Oscar lets out another of those odd little giggles he’s been prone to lately. Lando’s eyes narrow.
“Oi, Piastri!” He calls out, striding over to where Oscar is hunched over his phone. “What’s so funny, mate?”
Oscar’s head snaps up, his cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he stammers, hastily shoving his phone into his pocket. “Just ... just a meme.”
Lando raises an eyebrow. “A meme? Since when are you so into memes?”
“I’ve always liked memes,” Oscar protests weakly.
“Right,” Lando drawls, unconvinced. He watches as Oscar shifts uncomfortably, tugging at the waistband of his jeans.
A sudden, horrifying thought strikes Lando. No ... it couldn’t be. Could it?
“Hey, Oscar,” he says slowly, trying to keep his tone casual. “You feeling alright? You’ve seemed a bit ... off lately.”
Oscar’s eyes widen slightly. “Off? What do you mean?”
Lando shrugs, aiming for nonchalance. “I dunno, just ... different. Distracted. You keep laughing at nothing and your face is all red.”
“Oh, that’s ... that’s nothing,” Oscar says, waving a hand dismissively. “Just, uh, excited about the race, I guess.”
Lando’s not buying it. “Excited, huh? Is that why you keep fidgeting with your pants, too?”
Oscar freezes, his hand stilling where it had been absently adjusting his waistband. “I ... what?”
“Your jeans,” Lando repeats, gesturing towards Oscar’s lower half. “You keep messing with them. What’s that about?”
“Nothing!” Oscar yelps, a bit too quickly. “They’re just ... new. Still breaking them in.”
Lando’s eyes narrow further. He remembers something, vaguely, from one of the few health lessons he’d managed to stay awake for back in school. Something about drug users and fidgeting ...
No. Surely not. Not Oscar.
But the more Lando thinks about it, the more it starts to make a twisted kind of sense. The secrecy, the mood swings, the constant flush on Oscar’s cheeks ...
“Oscar,” Lando says, his voice low and serious. “I need you to be honest with me. Are you ... are you on something?”
Oscar’s jaw drops. “What? No! Of course not!”
“Because if you are,” Lando presses on, ignoring Oscar’s protests, “I need to know. As your teammate. As your friend. This isn’t just about you, mate. It’s about the whole team.”
“Lando, I swear, I’m not on anything,” Oscar insists, his voice taking on a pleading edge. “I don’t know where you’re getting this idea from, but-”
“Then explain the giggling!” Lando demands, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “And the blushing! And the fidgeting! Something’s clearly going on with you, and if you’re not gonna be straight with me-”
“I can’t!” Oscar bursts out, then immediately claps a hand over his mouth, looking stricken.
Lando’s eyes widen. “Can’t what?”
Oscar shakes his head, looking miserable. “I can’t ... I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, Lando. I know I’ve been acting weird, but I promise it’s nothing bad. I’m not on drugs or anything like that. I just ... I can’t explain right now.”
Lando stares at his teammate, torn between frustration and concern. “Oscar, come on. We’re supposed to be friends. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Oscar’s phone chimes, and he jumps, fumbling to pull it out of his pocket. His eyes widen as he reads whatever message has just come through, and a small, dopey smile spreads across his face.
“Sorry,” he says distractedly, already typing out a response. “I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk later, yeah?”
Before Lando can protest, Oscar is hurrying out of the garage, leaving Lando staring after him in bewilderment.
“What the hell was that about?” Lando mutters to himself.
He’s still pondering Oscar’s strange behavior when his own phone buzzes. It’s a message from you.
Hey! Surprise — I’m at the track! Want to grab dinner?
Lando grins, momentarily distracted from his worries about Oscar. Absolutely, he types back. Meet you at the hotel in a few hours?
Later that evening, Lando’s sitting in the hotel restaurant, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table as he waits for you to arrive. His mind keeps drifting back to Oscar’s odd behavior, and he’s half-tempted to text you and ask if you’ve noticed anything strange about his teammate lately.
Before he can act on the impulse, you breeze into the restaurant, a bright smile on your face. “Lando!” You exclaim, rushing over to give him a hug.
“Hey, trouble,” Lando says fondly, returning the embrace. “What brings you to the race? I thought you were busy with work.”
You shrug, sliding into the seat across from him. “Oh, you know, just missed my second favorite brother. Thought I’d surprise you.”
Lando narrows his eyes playfully. “I finally won a race and I’m still not your favorite?”
“You can’t win everything,” you say with a grin. “Wouldn’t want your head getting any bigger than it already is.”
As you settle in and start perusing the menu, Lando can’t help but notice that you seem ... different. There’s a certain glow about you, a sparkle in your eye that he hasn’t seen before.
“You look happy,” he observes. “Something good happen at work?”
You bite your lip, looking suddenly nervous. “Oh, um, not really. Just ... life in general, I guess.”
Lando’s about to press further when his phone buzzes. He glances down to see a message from Oscar.
Hey, mate. Sorry about earlier. Can we talk?
Lando frowns, torn between his curiosity about Oscar’s situation and his desire to spend time with you.
“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing his expression.
Lando sighs. “I don’t know. It’s Oscar. He’s been acting really weird lately, and I’m worried about him.”
Your eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Weird how?”
“Just ... off,” Lando says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s all giggly and distracted, his face is constantly red, and he keeps fidgeting with his clothes. I’m worried he might be ... you know ...”
You lean forward, your brow furrowed in concern. “Might be what?”
Lando lowers his voice, glancing around to make sure no one’s listening. “On drugs,” he whispers.
To his surprise, you burst out laughing. “Oscar? On drugs? Are you serious?”
“It’s not funny!” Lando hisses, feeling defensive. “I’m really worried about him. He won’t tell me what’s going on, but something clearly is.”
You sober quickly, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s not funny. But Lando, I really don’t think Oscar’s on drugs. Maybe there’s another explanation?”
“Like what?” Lando demands.
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Lando’s phone buzzes again. Another message from Oscar.
I’m in the lobby. Can we talk now? It’s important.
Lando looks up at you apologetically. “It’s Oscar again. He says he needs to talk. Do you mind if I ...”
You wave a hand, looking strangely nervous. “No, no, go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
Lando nods gratefully and heads for the lobby, his mind racing. What could be so important that Oscar needs to talk right now?
He spots his teammate pacing near the elevators, looking agitated. “Oscar?” He calls out.
Oscar’s head snaps up, and Lando is struck again by the flush on his cheeks. “Lando! Thanks for coming. I ... I need to tell you something.”
Lando crosses his arms, trying to look stern despite his worry. “Yeah, I’d say you do. What’s going on with you, mate? And don’t try to tell me it’s nothing, because-”
“I’m dating your sister!” Oscar blurts out.
Lando blinks, certain he must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
Oscar takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “I’m dating your sister,” he repeats, more slowly this time. “Y/N. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.”
Lando’s mind goes blank. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. No sound comes out.
“I know it’s a shock,” Oscar continues, words tumbling out in a rush. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We wanted to make sure it was serious before we said anything. But I really care about her, Lando. And I hope ... I hope you can be okay with this.”
Lando’s brain is still struggling to process this information. “But ... but the giggling,” he manages to stammer out. “And the blushing. And the fidgeting.”
Oscar’s blush deepens. “Ah, yeah. That’s ... that’s because of Y/N. She’s been sending me these ... messages. And pictures. Really cute ones!” He adds hastily, seeing Lando’s eyes widen in horror. “Nothing inappropriate! Just ... you know. Flirty.”
Lando holds up a hand, feeling slightly nauseous. “Please, I really don’t need details.”
“Right, sorry,” Oscar says sheepishly. “Anyway, that’s why I’ve been acting weird. I was trying to keep it a secret, but I guess I’m not very good at hiding how I feel.”
Lando’s head is spinning. His teammate and his little sister. Dating. It’s too much to process.
“Lando?” Oscar’s voice sounds concerned. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
Lando opens his mouth to respond, but the world suddenly tilts sideways. The last thing he hears before everything goes black is Oscar’s panicked voice calling his name.
When Lando comes to, he’s lying on a couch in the hotel lobby, with you and Oscar hovering anxiously over him.
“Oh thank god,” you breathe as his eyes flutter open. “Lando, are you okay?”
Lando groans, pushing himself into a sitting position. “What happened?”
“You fainted,” Oscar supplies helpfully. “Right after I told you about ... you know.”
The memory comes flooding back, and Lando groans again, this time for an entirely different reason. “So it wasn’t a dream, then? You two are really ...”
You nod, looking nervous but determined. “We are. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We wanted to make sure it was, you know, real first.”
Lando looks between the two of you, taking in Oscar’s anxious expression and the way your hand is clasped tightly in his. Despite his shock, he can’t deny the genuine affection he sees there.
“Well,” he says finally, his voice rough. “I suppose this is better than you being on drugs.”
Oscar lets out a startled laugh. “You really thought I was on drugs?”
Lando shrugs defensively. “What was I supposed to think? You were acting so weird!”
“That’s just because he’s head over heels for me,” you say teasingly, bumping Oscar’s shoulder with your own.
Oscar grins dopily, and Lando has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Clearly,” he mutters.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before you speak up again. “So ... are you okay with this? Us being together?”
Lando looks at you, his beloved little sister, then at Oscar, his teammate and friend. He sees the happiness radiating from both of you, the way you lean into each other unconsciously.
He sighs dramatically. “I suppose I’ll have to be,” he says, unable to keep a small smile from tugging at his lips. “But I swear, Piastri, if you hurt her-”
“I won’t,” Oscar interrupts, his voice firm and sincere. “I promise, Lando. I’ll take good care of her.”
Lando nods, satisfied for now. “Good. And for the love of all that is holy, please keep the flirting to a minimum around me. I really don’t need to see that.”
You and Oscar laugh, the tension finally breaking. As Lando watches the two of you together, he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this might not be such a bad thing after all.
But he’s definitely going to need some time to get used to it. And possibly some therapy.
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awrkive · 14 days ago
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tlp xmas special — jjk (m.)
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hello awrkive nation!!! its late but merry christmas to those who celebrate!! sorry for being ia but heres a christmas gift from me to you 🫣 first of all i genuinely forgot abt the car s*x drabble that won that poll i made a few weeks ago which i promised you guys ISHDJDJ but here it is!! this drabble combines all of these three recurring requests for the tlp couple and this might also be the last drabble im doing for them (for now??) so do enjoy!!
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pairing: tlp!jungkook x tlp!oc (main story)
summary: in which jungkook looks way too good carrying your sister's three-year old at her christmas eve party and you can't help but let your mind wander
w/c: 6k (ctfu)
warning/s: explicit sexual content (p in v s*x, car s*x, unprotected s*x, cre*mpie), oc having baby fever lol. genuinely not proofread sorry for any errors!
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You find babies mesmerizing. They’re charming, they can be a handful, they’re irresistibly cute; so tiny, yet so loud. But to the core, they somehow manage to be a pure embodiment of joy.
Before Nayeon got pregnant, she shared something about having a “baby fever”. Of course you knew what it meant – but you never really felt it yourself. She said it was something about Minhyuk being such a good husband that she couldn’t wait for him to be a father. Well, you related to that specific part, at least; about your own husband being such a good husband. However, for the past year you’ve become a married couple, you never really thought about having babies. Or him being a father. Or you being a mother. 
It’s not like you don’t want to become a mother, like ever, or have a family with him. It’s just you thought you’re still way too young to be having babies. So you kind of just… gloss or skip over that idea – and for the record, Jungkook’s never brought it up, either. 
It’s not until your sister got pregnant for the second time, though, that you got yourself thinking. Seokjin and her had babies almost four years into their marriage, but it’s not very long until they decided to try again after Nari and now your sister is carrying her baby boy for seven months. 
It brings you here, gathered at their house for Christmas Eve. Your families haven’t arrived yet, but you and Jungkook decided to go earlier than the agreed time to help out with the – admittedly, big preparation. And currently, Jungkook’s got Nari – Seokjin and your sister’s 3-year-old – in his arms, asking for raspberries because Jungkook’s her favorite uncle. (Why wouldn’t he be? He spoils her a lot and carries her around when you come over.) He insisted on looking after her so Seokjin can help your sister out in the kitchen while you’re over at the counter island making some charcuterie.
Seokjin’s helping your sister take out the pies they’ve both prepared, with him guarding her and being extra with it because “my wife is pregnant and I’m growing white hairs because she wouldn’t just let me do everything”. Your sister is just so done chastising him for his overbearing antics, but you guess it’s cute, at the core of it all. You’ve always looked up to their relationship all these years. In fact, you kind of see Seokjin in Jungkook sometimes. Seokjin loves your sister the way Jungkook loves you. 
And then, the thought passes over your head like some form of looming possibility, unsettling yet intriguing. It lingers for a moment, uninvited but persistent, as if life is quietly hinting at something you’ve never truly considered before. The idea of a baby, of parenthood, feels distant but somehow more tangible now—like a door you never saw, now standing slightly ajar, waiting for you to decide whether to step through.
Would Jungkook be just as (lovingly) overbearing if you were pregnant? You imagine he’d be even more annoying about it. It’s rare for you to get sick, but when you do, Jungkook practically flips the house upside down just to make sure you don’t have to lift a finger. Takes care of you so seriously, as if the illness would never go away on its own in a few days. So what would it be like if you were carrying his child? Would he act like Seokjin does now, always hovering with a hand on your back, supporting your every move, scolding you if you try to do anything that requires even a little bit of effort?
The thought makes your lips curl. Because he probably would. You know he will. 
And as you look at him from across the room, carrying Nari around effortlessly against his body with one arm, with his red long-sleeve polo shirt pushed up to his forearms, white slacks, and freshly cut hair slicked to perfection for tonight’s occasion, he looks… delectable. 
Like a DILF. 
Except he isn’t a dad. 
But god, would you really, really like to fuck him. 
(And would he look way hotter if he – say – gave you a child?)
“Is it done?” Your sister interrupts your thoughts – thankfully, might you add. Because it’s going in a direction that’s way too inappropriate for a family occasion like this, and you need to be family friendly tonight for this Christmas party. 
When you turn around to see if she was talking to you, you find her looking at her husband instead, and with her stance and the tone of her voice, you know it doesn’t sound good. 
“Yeah. I think I just need to add a little more—” 
“Jin,” she says, sounding a little distressed. “Hurry. And make sure it’s perfect, okay? Everyone’s arriving in fifteen, and this is the first time I’m hosting Christmas and I really, really don’t want to disappoint your family and Jungkook’s parents and mom and—” 
“Hey,” You see Seokjin put a hand on the lower part of your sister’s back, effectively cutting her off. Gently, he tells her, “Everything’s perfect, alright?” 
Soft tunes of Christmas songs are playing all over the huge open space of their house, and you know you’re not supposed to listen in to the conversation given that they’re spoken in an almost hushed manner as some sort of discretion, but you can’t help but notice when she turns to Seokjin to give him a downturned smile.
“I just really want to give this my all…” 
He smiles down at her reassuringly. “You have, honey. Let’s not stress, okay? Not good for baby, remember?” Then, he begins to rub her protruding belly, and you see her visibly relaxing to his touch. 
You turn around quickly to not get caught watching, only to be welcomed with Jungkook making a beeline towards you, with Nari still in his arms. 
“Hi, baby,” Your sister automatically greets Nari, cooing at her, mood immediately picking up. The bright-eyed little girl lights up at the sight of her mommy, making grabby hands instantly. Laughing, Jungkook hands her to Seokjin, who receives his daughter and kisses her chubby cheeks with a smack. 
“What were you up to with uncle JK, little missy?” Seokjin says, swaying her side to side. 
Jungkook leans his elbow on the island while looking at the pair, smiling widely.
“Uncle JK said he’s giving me three presents! Three! I wanna open them!” She holds up three fingers, and you giggle at her cuteness.
Your sister softly laughs in response. “Your uncle likes to spoil you, sweetie. But we’ll open them later, okay?”
“Why not now?” She whines, and you smile at how seriously she takes it. “I want three presents!”
“Don’t worry,” Seokjin laughs, “You’ll have lots of surprises when the grandmas and grandpas get here. But we need to change into your dress first.”
Nari giggles. “You? You’re gonna wear a dress too?”
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, why not?”
She shakes her head, still giggling, her pigtails swaying as she does so. God, she looks like a combination of Seokjin and your sister that it’s so uncanny sometimes.
“You’re so silly, daddy.”
Seokjin feigns shock. “Silly? Just wait, Uncle JK and I are going to be Ariel and Belle for New Year’s! Right, Jungkook?” He looks over at Jungkook, who widens his eyes comically.
You laugh, and Jungkook adds, “Well, I wanted to be Cinderella, but sure, I’ll be Belle.”
Nari gasps dramatically, putting her hand over her mouth. “But she’s my favorite, Uncle JK! You can’t be her!”
She’s such a cute kid – and you know everybody in the room agrees. No doubt her mom and dad think so, but when you look over at Jungkook, he’s cheesing really hard – with his nose scrunched into that expression of cute aggression. 
“These two boys are silly.” Your sister interrupts with a playful roll of her eyes. She looks at her husband Nari, “Honey, take Nari upstairs and dress her up, please.”
“I can wear my new dress now?!” Nari shrieks, excitement showing with the way she wiggles in her father’s hold.
“Absolutely, baby, and the sparkly white shoes, too,” Seokjin nods. You all coo when Nari lets out an adorable, delighted “yay!” at the words, already leaning towards the direction of the stairs and telling her father to hurry. With a chuckle, Seojin turns to you. “Alright. And Jungkook, please help her with the food.” Seokjin’s gaze falls to your sister, a reminder before he goes completely.
“She’s so cute, I can’t.” Jungkook chuckles.
“Right… my sister was definitely not that cute when we were younger.” you tease, earning an arched brow to your way from your sister. 
“I was the cuter one between us, it’s an established fact,” she rolls her eyes. “When you two get a kid, it better look like Jungkook.” 
Maybe the remark sounded like such a throw-away comment that Jungkook just laughs it off as if it isn’t the first time somebody hinted at you two starting a family. Or maybe he just thinks it isn’t a big deal. Or maybe… maybe he likes the idea? 
You’re about to say something when your sister turns to you.
“You,” she takes you by the shoulders and you look back at her. “You might want to retouch your make-up. Party’s starting soon. And this charcuterie looks—” she looks to the side as if to check if Nari is still around, and when she deems she isn’t at all, she continues to say, “fucking perfect. I love you.” 
“Duh.” you reply, cockily showing off the board to her and to Jungkook who intriguingly looks at your work. 
“I knew you should have been a chef.” Jungkook comments proudly, grinning at you.
“Alright, man,” your sister says in a flat tone, making Jungkook and you laugh. “Jungkook, can help me transfer these to the dining table, please?” She points to the trays of food and Jungkook rounds the counter so he can do just as she requested. 
Before you can head to the powder room, Jungkook brushes past your waist – just one of the candid things he does to have some sort of physical contact with you when you’re not necessarily talking together or close to each other.
It puts a smile on your face as you enter the powder room. 
Inside, you make quick work of putting another layer of lipstick and pressing powder on your face, checking your hair before you stand upright and look at your reflection in the mirror.
You step backwards enough to see half of your body, and from there, you can see how beautiful you look in the outfit you’ve chosen for tonight. It’s a satin red dress with a halter neckline, the gathered drape cascading gracefully around your neck, exposing your shoulders. The silhouette fits at the waist and flows into a straight skirt that stops inches below your knees, and Jungkook may have had a hard time letting you go in your bedroom before you drove to your sister’s place – but you promised him a good time when you get back home so in the end, he had to tuck in a semi on the way from here.
Poor Jungkook. 
Though… you’re beginning to think poor you, instead.
Because you’re thinking about it again. Him in his outfit tonight; the silk polo so he can match yours, and the way he looked so good with a baby girl in his strong arms. 
You can already picture how good he'd look with his own child. He’d be the type of dad who looks effortlessly hot with a baby carrier, showers his kids with gifts because he can’t help himself, and simply excels at being a wonderful father because he’s Jeon Jungkook and he excels in everything he sets his mind to.
Now your brain’s going on a haywire. 
Because now it’s just Jungkook. Hot Jungkook. Jungkook with a baby. Jungkook looking smoking hot carrying his own baby – your baby. 
And wouldn’t it be nice? To carry a being formed by your mutual love? To have someone as adorable and smart and sassy as Nari? God. You hope she’d look like you, but have Jungkook’s eyes because they are your favorite part of him, and then his nose, maybe? And… and maybe have the mole under his lip too, if that was possible. Jungkook had a lot of hair when he came out of his mom’s womb, would your daughter have a lot of hair as well when you give birth to her? 
And why are you already thinking of the gender of your non-existent child? 
You think you’ve gone nuts, but the indulgent little devil on your shoulder is insisting that Jungkook would look so good with a baby girl because you know he’d be such a girl dad. There’s just absolutely no doubt about it, given how he treats Nari. 
You stare at yourself in the mirror again, and absentmindedly, you turn to the side, noting the very clear absence of a bump on your stomach unlike your sister’s. 
Would you carry a baby as gracefully as her? You know her struggles… but… maybe you won’t mind it with a husband like Jungkook… right? Just like she doesn’t mind with a husband like Seokjin. Because Jungkook takes really good care of you. He’d probably panic more than you about certain things. Be extra careful for the both of you. Fetch you your cravings. Love you more than he does now. 
You remember Seokjin rubbing a gentle hand over your sister’s bump, and it brings your own to caress the flat of your stomach over the smooth fabric of your dress. 
Obviously no baby there. But… just imagine. You with a baby bump.
Hah. 
Weird, because it’s the first time the idea’s planted in your head and you kind of like it more than you thought. 
You nibble on your bottom lip as you continue to caress your tummy, not noticing the knock that came from outside. 
“Oh my—” 
“Baby?” 
“Jungkook.” Your hands retreat back to your sides. When you look at Jungkook, standing on the doorway, you let one hand clutch at your chest as you tell him, “You scared me.” 
The door clicks as he locks it behind him. Your husband arches his brow as he goes over to you. “What are you so jumpy for?” 
You ignore the question, looking back to the mirror again to fix your dress. But as you do so, you see his reflection – and you catch how he intently stares at you through the glass as well, walking behind you closer and pressing himself against you. His proximity suddenly makes you nervous.
“You should’ve knocked.” 
“I did. You didn’t answer.” 
“I didn’t hear.” When you turn around, Jungkook takes a curled strand of hair over your face and tucks it behind your ear. 
“You look beautiful. So gorgeous.” He says before he wraps his arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your lips, one that you welcome fully even though you just reapplied your lipstick. When you break away, you see some remnants on his lips… and realize you picked the wrong lipstick for tonight. You should’ve brought the kiss-proof lippy instead.
You wipe it off and Jungkook smiles before he ducks down, not caring, and kisses your cheek for good measure before he speaks again, “What were you doing in here?” He wiggles his eyebrows, as if he knows you were up to something before he barged in. 
You avoid his gaze and turn back around. 
“Nothing,” You say, trying to busy yourself with your hair again. But Jungkook can be really annoying when he wants to be, so of course he pushes, quite literally and figuratively. 
“What was it? I saw you…” He teases, pushing his nose in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tightening his hold around you. 
“What did you– Jungkook!” You half-snort and scoff when Jungkook bites your neck playfully. You turn around to push him, but he’s insistent on keeping the nonexistent space between you and cages you in his big presence instead, trapping you in between the edge of the sink and the heat of his body. 
“This damn dress…” Jungkook whispers as he splays his hand over your stomach, which makes your breath hitch. 
Did he really see? See you pretending to have a baby bump at the thought of him impregnating you? 
But Jungkook doesn’t really say anything further, just lets an idle finger run over the curve of your hips up to your waist, until it stops at the exposed skin of your shoulder. 
“Can’t wait to fuck you in this.” He whispers in your ear, eyes meeting your gaze in the mirror, not subtle in the way he checks out your body after. 
You huff out a scoff, giving a little more force into the push that you give him this time. His more relaxed hold on you makes him stumble a little bit backwards, chuckling when you roll your eyes at him once again. 
“You’re not even gonna take it off me?” You ask as your turn on the tap, arching your brow at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror. 
A sly smirk makes an appearance on his lips. “I don’t need to take anything off to make you cum, baby.” 
You turn around, leaning on the sink. “So you’re saying you’re not interested at all about my very elaborate choice of underwear tonight, then?” 
That catches him off guard, his brows furrowed in confusion and then realization.
“You minx.” 
You chuckle, swatting his hand away when he tries to touch you. When he whines, you take a step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, and Jungkook’s predictably eager to encircle your waist in his arms back again. 
“Later. We have to keep it PG for at least three hours tonight. And you can—” you push at his chest for leverage so you can lean down a little to ride your dress up your thighs. Looking at Jungkook, you watch as he stares at you closely, intently, but oblivious to what you’re doing. He clearly enjoys it, though, judging from the hint of a smile on his lips and the shine in his eyes when more of your skin gets revealed. 
Especially when he catches a glimpse of your white lace underwear that he bought for you himself.
He whistles, and you roll your eyes at the predictable reaction. Taking one of his hands off you, you guide it in between your thighs, earning an involuntary moan from you because Jungkook’s palm automatically cups your heat when he gets close. 
“Ah…” 
“Fuck…” Jungkook looks down where his hand meets your core. “Goddamn,” He says, then you feel him push your panties to the side, dipping the tip of his finger in your pussy. “Why the fuck are you so wet, baby?”
“Y-yeah…” You whine against his chest, gripping his wrist when he attempts to move again. “Kook, don’t.” 
Jungkook halts. He looks at you. Then, he nods. “Alright. Alright. Stop this here?” 
“Hm.” 
He looks down at you with an arched brow. “You started it, though.” 
“You were being flirty.” You say as Jungkook brings your underwear back in place, but not without squeezing your ass first. You nibble on your bottom lip as he rides down the dress, letting it dangle on your knees back again, smoothing the front for you to get rid of the wrinkles. 
“Not my fault you’re hot,” he snorts. “Fuck.” 
“What?” 
“I’m kinda hard…” He says, and you both look down to the bump on his white slacks. Certainly not his full potential (like… you’d know), but it’s still apparent in the light color of his trouser. 
“Poor baby,” you say, can’t help but pat it a little condescendingly which earns a chuckle from Jungkook, him playfully swatting your hand away. 
“You’re so…” 
“I’m so what.” 
Jungkook’s face is a mixture of frustration and amusement. “You always do this shit.” 
You giggle, knowing exactly what he means. But you act like you have no clue. “What?” 
“Get me horny then leave.” He shakes his head, then pokes your waist. 
Chuckling, you kiss him on the cheek quickly, making a beeline to the door quickly lest he tries to kiss you again (and you’ll have no choice but to make out in your sister’s powder room, during her big Christmas party, mind you) and then give him a wink before you go.
 
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The ride on the way home felt like it took sixty five years, and it might just be true especially when you’re horny as hell and you got a husband behind the steering wheel looking effortlessly hot in his element. 
You’ve been hot and bothered for hours, and maybe it’s the champagne – probably has gotten in your brain or whatever – but Jungkook was not even done parking when you made a move to palm him over the console. 
“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, clearly not expecting it at all. He had that wide-eyed look when he frantically turned off the engine, staring at you while your hand grew heavy on his crotch. “Here?” You bit on your bottom lip as you nodded your head. He looked beyond conflicted. “But baby, we’re just ten floors away from our u–”
“Please?” 
And what was he supposed to say? No? 
Absolutely not. Not when your glassy eyes looked so pleading the way they did.   
He just makes your insides churn, especially when you look at him. And for the past few hours, you couldn’t stop thinking about his dick inside you and most especially his cum. (Translation: You can’t stop thinking about him fucking a baby into you).
But… the thing was, you’ve only ever fucked in a car once.
Jungkook’s way too pesky about stuff like that, and somehow, even though he’s already been made aware of your exhibitionist tendencies (cue unprompted sex in public areas like that one time in the beach, window sex at a Ritz hotel back in London and… admittedly many more…) car sex was just… a least favorite. The first and only time you did it was when you were still fresh into dating; at a drive-thru cinema, but it was kind of a whack in both your opinions because it was too cramped up and you bumped your head and you almost got caught which is way too embarrassing of a memory to ever revisit. 
But now maybe that really doesn't matter anymore.
Not when your husband looks like that.
And bottomline is: you just really, really want him to cum in you. 
Oh god. What is wrong with your head tonight? 
“Baby, fuuuck,” Jungkook hisses as you speed up your rhythm up and down his cock. His boxers and slacks are pushed down to the middle of his thighs while his shirt is all but buttoned. Meanwhile, your dress is bunched up in your mid-section. 
You’re near tears on his lap at this point, already feeling your thighs straining at the force you’re exerting in every bounce – but you couldn’t care less. 
“Oh my god, baby– you feel so good,” you moan, eyes shutting close at the feel of his tip hitting that spot inside you whenever you go down.
For the first few minutes, Jungkook took it upon himself to guide your hips in every movement just like he always does when you ride him like this, pounding into you from underneath, but he eventually let you control the pace, leaning way back to the reclined seat and watches you work instead. He stares at you with hooded eyes as you push yourself up and down on his hardened cock, stiletto heels digging the side of his thighs occasionally.
While you pleasure yourself on him, he slides your dress up further, gets a little frustrated that it’s tight on the waist so he can’t push it past your tits. So he feels for your nape to find the zipper because he knows it’s there – he zipped you up in this dress before you drove to your sister’s place – and he delights when he finds the small, cold material, pulling it down blindly until you noticed and help him get yourself out of it. 
Jungkook sighs when the top comes down, snapping the clip of your sleeveless bra and getting it out of the way before he greedily fondles your now bare breasts in his huge palms. 
“Ohh,” you moan when Jungkook flicks your nipples, getting them even harder. You push yourself back, leaning into one elbow on the steering wheel as you begin to rock against him in a back and forth motion,
“Fuck—” Jungkook lets out a guttural groan, squeezing your tits tighter that makes you keen in want. “So fucking sexy, baby. Shit – damn – l-love you.” 
“I-I love you too,” you say, more like a whine, chasing a high he knows is impending. 
Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes. Your hair that was once tidy and neat three hours ago is now all over the place, the high bun loosening and some strands falling off your pretty face. Your lipstick smudged and he’s sure the remnants are on his lips, and with your mouth agaped in that erotic o-shape while you pleasure yourself on his cock, Jungkook feels like exploding. 
“Ah– shit,” he groans, feeling the warm crevice of your wet pussy swallow him whole. When you climbed over his lap a while ago after he fingered you, he was gonna take out a condom from the glove compartment but you insisted to not use it, and the picture of you looking down while he pushed your panties to the side and looked into each other’s eyes as you sank down on him is still playing in his head like a broken record.
God fuck damn, you’re just so unreal. The love of his life. His wife. 
He wipes your tear-stained cheeks, torn because he doesn’t like seeing you cry but he does like it when it’s because you’re so eager to bounce on his cock that even though you know you’re pushing it, you continue to do so.
Jungkook lets his hand travel from a boob to linger on your cheek, and he keens on the way you purr when you lean into his touch, smiling slightly when you open your mouth as his thumb nears it. 
You eagerly suck it as if verbally prompted, opening your eyes just so you can stare at his as you lewdly slobber over his finger while you expertly move against his cock, breasts jiggling up and down right in front of his face – the obscene squelches of your lovemaking filling the air of his cramped up benz. 
“You’re so perfect, baby,” Jungkook whispers. “Perfect girl. You love bouncing on my cock, love? Just couldn’t wait until we get home? Hm?” His tone is a bit condescending and cocky. 
When Jungkook takes out his finger from your mouth, you bite your lip as you nod, resuming your up and down motion again. Slamming down on his dick, your hands come up to grip his shoulders tight. 
“We are home.” 
Jungkook chuckles, a rich and dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. A snarky remark gets buried in your throat when you feel a certain zap of electricity coming from your toes to your spine, the hot coil in your stomach edging to burst.
“I’m cumming– oh my god, Jungkook– baby I’m cumming—” You say, speeding up your pace once again. 
With your breasts bouncing in front of his face like that, he couldn’t help but dive right into it, wrapping his lips around one nipple, nipping and sucking and licking, while he busies one hand with fondling the other. He alternated in between both tits, groaning and grunting when your pussy tightens around him, and one more slam on his cock gets you spiraling as you finally cum. 
Jungkook closes his eyes when he feels you gush around him, and he really wishes that he could lay you down, spread you out, and eat the slick right out of you just like how he likes it.
“That’s it, baby – fuck. Good girl, good girl.” 
A long, drawl-out moan slips past your lips, and Jungkook takes it upon himself to keep you bouncing on his cock when your energy dwindles down, rocking his hips upwards, just as eager to reach his high as well. 
You try to pick up your pace to help him, planting your palms on his bare chest to meet his thrusts. 
“Fuck baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” Jungkook says in a hushed whisper, groaning, squeezing your ass tight that you know will leave marks the next day. 
“I know, baby – cum for me,” You lean down to capture his lips, whimpering when you feel yourself still coming down from your high.
“Ohh fuuck—” Jungkook moans, a tell-tale sign of his orgasm. “Fuck, I’m cumming—” 
It’s almost second nature the way he looks down on your crotch, hand going over to where you meet – and you almost panic when you realize what he’s about to do. 
“Jungkook, no,” you stop his hand, and he looks at you with utter confusion, rightfully so. Biting your lip, you stare into his eyes as you say, “I want you to come inside me.” 
You watch as his eyes widen, then, “You sure?” He says with furrowed brows.
You nod your head frantically. “Please come in me. I want your come in me. Please, please—” 
“Jesus fuck—” Jungkook’s hips stutter, his grip on yours tightening, gaze darkening as he processes your words. “Fuck. Okay, baby. No need to beg, okay? Fuck. I’ll come inside you.” 
You speed up your pace and you can feel yourself getting there for a second time, and maybe it’s the heat of the moment, but your next words fall from your lips without much thought: “Yeah, yeah –give it to me, Kook. Want your– ah– want your babies.” 
“Shit.” Jungkook hisses, taken aback by your words. “Fuuuck…” He looks up at you, grabs your waist and makes you lean closer. “You mean that?” 
You nod your head, jumping on his cock up and down like your life depends on it. “Want your babies. Want you to cum in me.” 
“Shiiitt,” Jungkook sighs, and you feel him getting harder by the second. “Gonna– gonna fuck a baby in you, baby. Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me– shit, I’m cumming.” 
You both moan in unison when Jungkook finally releases inside you the same time you do so, his cock hardening in your walls, throbbing when you settle down on his lap with him still buried inside you. When the seconds pass, you feel the exhaustion wrapping around you, and you let Jungkook trail kisses up your shoulders and neck at the post-coital momentum. 
“Fuck, that was so hot.” He whispers against your lips, kissing your parted mouth. You sigh against it, all sweaty and fucked out. 
“Oh, baby…” You moan when Jungkook lifts you up and you feel yourself dripping from your cum. 
“Fucking hell, so beautiful baby...” Jungkook trails off, squeezing your breasts before pushing you gently to lean back on the steering wheel. You look down as you watch with a gasp when he slides his cock out from your heat, covered in white and slick, moaning lewdly when he pumps it out for more. 
Some of it spurts on your pussy, and you stare in awe when Jungkook inserts the tip once again in your heat, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the blurred lines between pleasure and overstimulation. 
“Goddammit.” Jungkook sighs, gratified, tapping his cock on your pussy a few times before he grabs your hips again so he can kiss you on the mouth. It almost gives you whiplash when he looks at you with such sincere and genuine eyes as he says, “I love you.” 
“Love you,” you say, closing your eyes when his kisses trail to your jaw and his hands come up to fondle your tits again. His favorite fixation – his words, not yours. “Kook.” 
“Hm.” 
“Sticky.” 
He hums again. You keep your position like that for a few more seconds before Jungkook helps put your panties and dress back in place, picking you up slightly as you climb over the passenger seat. 
You watch as he pulls his boxers and pants back up, buckling his belt around the waist. He hasn’t fixed the unbuttoned state of his shirt yet before he looks at you again with a smile.
“Come here, you,” He says, beckoning you to come closer with his arm around your seat. You grin, crossing the console again to meet the kiss he gives your mouth. Then, Jungkook breaks the contact, caressing your cheek as he speaks. “Babies, huh?” He brings up, eyes so bright; delighted, excited. He has that unshakeable grin. 
And you can’t help but mirror it. 
“Do you want to?” You ask instead. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nervously wait for his answer that doesn’t really take that long. 
“Fuck, yeah. If you want to, then I want to,” he responds. Then, he adds, “And I really, really want to.”
“Okay…” you say, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. “But it doesn’t have to be now. Or I don’t know. I know it’s only been a year since we got married and all that—” 
“Baby, stop,” Jungkook says before you can finish your thought. “Doesn’t matter if we were one month into the marriage. As long as you’re ready, then I’m ready. Are you ready?”
A few beats. 
It was your horny-adled brain that got you in this position in the first place – but you think about how life with Jungkook would be like with kids added in the equation in the near future.
It would be so far from bad. 
The past year had been nothing short of bliss since you married him, and as you watched Jungkook, a thought warmed your heart: he’d be an incredible dad. The way he loves you, so deeply and selflessly, leaves no doubt in your mind that he’d go above and beyond for your child—or children. You’re certain he’d love them as much as he loves you, perhaps even more.
A smile spreads across your face, and you nod to his question.
“I want a family with you, Kook.”
Jungkook’s face lights up with a delighted smile, mirroring yours. “So, we’re doing this?”
You nod again, biting your lip to temper your excitement.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
You blink at him in surprise. “Why are you thanking me?”
He shakes his head with a gentle smile and leans in to kiss you again. “Just… thank you.”
You furrow your brows, squinting at him in playful confusion. Before you can say more, he leans forward and nips the tip of your nose.
“Ow!” you exclaim, laughing.
“You’re cute,” Jungkook teases. “But we’ve gotta clean up and head home. Then, we can keep practicing putting my baby in you—on a nice, comfortable bed this time.” He winks, pecking your cheek as he buttons his shirt and unbuckles his seatbelt.
You snort, rolling your eyes as you do the same. “Admit it, you like car sex.”
Jungkook hums nonchalantly, his cheeky grin giving him away. You chuckle, shaking your head at him, love radiating in every moment between you.
1K notes · View notes
paranoiddreams · 3 months ago
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Husband?
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✰ Modern!Sukuna x fem!reader
✰ Warnings!! - None!! Just fluff and some swearing hehe
✰ A/n!! - I’m trying to get into the groove of posting on here, I get insecure abt my writing, but reading my favorite blogs on here gives my peanut brain motivation.
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“Oh yeah, that’s my husband!”
Sukuna could swear the world stopped spinning the moment he heard y/n’s voice a few feet away. He cocked his head towards the checkout line of the Barns & Noble she dragged him into, seeing his girlfriend of 5 months and half (who’s counting?) claim him by a title he wasn’t aware he’d upgraded to; last time he checked, he hasn’t popped the question yet, although the thought doesn’t disgust him as much as he thought it would in the past.
Sukuna puts the book he was looking at back onto its shelf before walking toward’s his now supposed wife just as the woman she was talking to turned the other way.
“What was that I heard?”
Y/n turns around swiftly, a sheepish smile appearing on her face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says, feigning innocence, “you ready to go now?”
“No, no, no, what did I hear you call me?” Sukuna’s grin couldn’t be more prideful, his arms crossed over his puffed chest.
“She was asking about you,” y/n finally relents with a sigh. “I just…doubled down. So she’d know.”
Sukuna doesn’t say anything, continuing to stare at her with that shit eating grin. An embarrassed flush blooms on her cheeks under his calculating gaze, her eyes hesitant to meet his for more than a few seconds at a time.
“I know…it’s early. Sorry.” Her fingers play with the plastic bag holding the books she just bought with Sukuna’s card, nervousness prominent in her disposition.
“Nonsense,” Sukuna finally grunts out. “We act just as a married couple would. Why not address each other as such?” He smiles, playing with the idea in his mind.
Y/n’s eyes float up to his again, her face falling a bit. “Really?” She stammers out.
Sukuna doesn’t say anything—he only quirks his brow at her, as if to silently say, ‘don’t make me repeat myself’. So she doesn’t; she takes his hand in hers, and leads him out of the store, feeling as if she’s walking on air.
Maybe Sukuna feels the same as well…no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
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1K notes · View notes
retrosabers · 22 days ago
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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
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FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.
contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance
i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.
also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)
!! divider by @strangergraphics !!
FICMAS MASTERLIST
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your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.
who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.
a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.
at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.
excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.
as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.
if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.
what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.
a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.
your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.
bucky barnes.
quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.
to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.
what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.
it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.
the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.
flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.
you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.
when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.
the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.
you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.
please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.
in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.
it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.
you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.
surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.
bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.
“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.
you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.
it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.
here goes nothing.
“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.
a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.
you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.
“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.
for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.
“don’t recall asking for that either.”
you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”
“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.
despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.
“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.
“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”
bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.
“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.
you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.
“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”
he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”
you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””
why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.
that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.
just your luck, he’s right on schedule.
“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”
a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.
it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.
before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.
“merry christmas buck.”
your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.
and yet. he enjoyed the burn.
as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.
“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.
you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.
while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.
he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.
that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.
a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.
his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.
i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.
merry christmas ♡
bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.
from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.
you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.
but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.
later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.
bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.
tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.
and to ask you about your record collection.
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