#almost nobody talks to me about it anymore though | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aerialmirrorss · 4 months ago

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𝐨 𝐩 𝐞 𝐧 𝐚 𝐫 𝐦 𝐬 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ rafe cameron

playing: 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 by sza 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! an unlikely alliance between the pogues and rafe forms as suspicions point to a familiar kook being behind the leaked video, but without proof, the tension’s impossible to ignore. the group teams up (sort of) to figure it out, but the kook-pogue divide is hanging by a thread, and it’s only a matter of time before things blow up.

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: angst , softdom!rafe , sexual content + unprotected shower sex! , fingering , squirting , pogues accidentally hear you and rafe , some fluff , stalker , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 7.6k

notes: this is chapter four of my nobody gets me series. click the links below to read the first chapters! ♡

chapter one: 𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

rafe’s jaw clenched tightly, the muscles ticking as he pressed his phone against his ear, trying to hold back his frustration. ward’s voice droned on from the other end of the line, sharp and condescending, the lecture having gone on for what felt like an eternity.

“—jeopardizing everything, rafe,” ward snapped, his tone cutting through the line like a knife. “our family name is being slandered all over obx, and for what? some girl?”

rafe’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles white as his other hand balled into a fist at his side. “it’s not just some girl,” he growled, his voice low.

“oh, really?” ward shot back, the sarcasm in his voice grating. “because from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’ve let some fling drag our name through the mud. rose is getting calls from everyone for god’s sake! do you even understand the kind of damage this is doing?”

rafe’s breath came in sharp bursts as he stared at the wall, his anger barely contained. “i’m handling it,” he said through gritted teeth, though even he wasn’t sure if he believed it anymore.

“handling it?” ward laughed coldly. “you’ve got a sex tape floating around the island, and the entire town knows it’s you. how, exactly, are you handling it, rafe?”

“just trust me, okay?” rafe snapped, his voice rising. “i’ll take care of it.”

“trust you?” ward scoffed. “you can’t even keep your name—and our family’s name—out of the gutter. you think i’m going to trust you to clean this up? you’d better figure it out fast, rafe, because i’m not letting this ruin everything i’ve built.”

the line went dead before rafe could respond, the sound of the call disconnecting echoing in his ears. his hand trembled as he lowered the phone, his entire body tense with rage. “fucking perfect,” he muttered under his breath, throwing the phone onto the couch as he paced the room, the weight of ward’s words pressing down on him like a boulder.

from the doorway, you stood with your arms crossed, chewing nervously on the inside of your cheek as rafe’s raised voice echoed through the room. you hadn’t meant to listen in, but with the way he was practically shouting into the phone, it was impossible not to overhear.

each word dripped with frustration and anger, and though you couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, it wasn’t hard to piece together who he was talking to—or what they were talking about. the tension in his tone, the clipped way he spit out his words, made it clear: this wasn’t just an argument, it was a full-blown fight.

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty for standing there, but something kept you rooted in place. maybe it was the way his shoulders tensed with every sharp word, or how he gripped the phone like it was the only thing holding him together. you’d never seen him like this, so unfiltered, so completely on edge.

“rafe?” you finally spoke, your voice soft, almost hesitant, as if you were afraid of how he might respond.

his blazed, anger-filled eyes snapped to yours, but the moment he saw you, they softened instantly. the tension in his body seemed to dissipate just slightly, his shoulders dropping. it had been a few days since the video had spread across the island, and this was one of the first times he’d seen you standing on your own.

the sight tugged at his chest. for most of that time, you’d been curled up in his bed, hidden beneath the layers of his oversized hoodie, refusing to eat or even speak to him. it had him worried sick, pacing between his room and the kitchen, trying to figure out how to help you without making things worse.

now, seeing you out of that self-imposed cocoon, he felt a flicker of hope, but also the weight of knowing you were still hurting.

“hey,” he said softly, his tone shifting completely, the frustration from his call gone. “you… you okay?” he asked, his voice careful, as if he were afraid to push too hard and send you retreating again. it was a simple question, but the way he looked at you, like you were the most important thing in the world, made it clear that it wasn’t just small talk. he needed to know—he had to know—that you were okay.

he stepped closer, his movements slow, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of what you were feeling. the silence stretched between you for a moment, heavy and unspoken.

instead of answering, you nodded toward the couch where his phone now sat after being tossed in anger. “daddy dearest, i assume?” you said quietly, your tone laced with a mix of exhaustion and faint humor, though your heart wasn’t really in it.

rafe’s jaw tightened briefly at your words, but then he let out a small, humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “he’s… not exactly thrilled about the current situation.”

he glanced at you, his eyes scanning your face carefully, as though trying to gauge your reaction. “it’s all about the family name, the reputation. nothing new,” he added bitterly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

you stayed silent for a moment, your arms crossing over your chest as you studied him. “you okay?” you finally asked, your voice softer this time.

rafe blinked at your question, surprised. he’d been so focused on worrying about you these past few days that he hadn’t even thought about how he must’ve looked to you—worn down, tense, and barely keeping it together. “me?” he said, letting out a short, dry laugh. “i’m fine. it’s you I’m worried about.”

his gaze softened as he stepped closer, his hand hovering near your arm like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him touch you. “you don’t have to worry about him,” he murmured. “or anyone else. i’ll deal with it.”

you smiled softly, not bothering to answer, and instead stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. his body stiffened for a split second, like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he relaxed into you, his arms circling your waist tightly, as if he was afraid to let go.

now that you were this close, you could see it—how exhausted he really was. the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders that didn’t seem to ease even as he held you. rafe had been carrying just as much as you, if not more, and the realization made your chest ache.

his hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair as he sighed against your shoulder. “i missed you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, the vulnerability in his tone catching you off guard. “these past few days… you scared me.”

you tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his neck. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words muffled but heartfelt. you hadn’t meant to shut him out, but the weight of everything had been too much, and now, standing here in his arms, you felt a flicker of regret for not letting him in sooner.

“it’s okay,” he replied softly, pulling back just enough to look at you. his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he studied you with those piercing blue eyes that held equal parts concern and relief. “just… don’t do that again, okay? i can’t—i don’t want to lose you.”

your lips parted, but no words came. instead, you nodded, leaning into his touch, letting the silence between you carry the weight of everything unspoken. slowly, you moved closer, your lips just inches from his when his phone, still resting on the couch, buzzed loudly, breaking the moment.

rafe groaned, running a hand down his face. “can never have anything, i swear,” he mumbled as he reluctantly reached for the phone after sitting. his annoyance only deepened when he saw the caller id: sarah.

her name flashing across the screen made his jaw tighten, the memory of their last argument still raw. he hesitated for a moment before pressing the phone to his ear.

“what?” he snapped, his tone sharp and clipped, already bracing himself for another confrontation.

a pause hung on the other end, the silence making his grip on the phone tighten. when sarah finally spoke, her voice was quieter than usual. “we need to talk.”

rafe rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “thought we already said everything there was to say,” he muttered impatiently.

“not about me and you,” sarah replied, her tone softer but still steady. “it’s about y/n.”

his heart stuttered, his posture stiffening as her words registered. “what about her?” he demanded, the edge in his voice sharper now, his protective instincts flaring. from the corner of his eye, he saw you chewing your bottom lip, clearly aware they were talking about you.

sarah cleared her throat, her voice carefully controlled. “how is she doing?”

rafe exhaled, turning his head to glance at you. “she’s getting there,” he admitted quietly, his tone softening slightly. the weight of his words lingered in the air, the silence on the other end of the line growing heavy.

“good,” sarah finally said, her voice hesitant. then, she continued, firmer this time. “listen, the pogues and i are trying to figure out who sent the video. we’ve been going over suspects all night and—”

“don’t bother,” rafe cut in sharply, his words curt and dismissive. “i have rob working on it already.”

there was a pause on the other end, the silence practically dripping with disapproval. “rafe,” sarah finally said, her tone measured, “this isn’t something you can just bulldoze through like one of your deals. rob might be good, but this? this is personal.”

“and what, you think you and your little crew can handle it better?” rafe snapped, his voice rising. “this isn’t some pogue treasure hunt, sarah. this is serious shit. she’s being stalked, and i’m not about to leave this in anyone else’s hands.”

sarah’s sharp sigh cut through the line, her frustration evident. “it’s not about doing it better, rafe. it’s about doing it together. you think you’re the only one who cares about her? we all do. but if you keep shutting everyone out, you’re just going to make this worse—for her and for you.”

rafe didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as her words sank in. deep down, he knew she was right—he couldn’t do this alone. but admitting it felt impossible under the crushing weight of guilt and anger pressing on him.

“if you want to help her, you’ll work with us. accept the help,” sarah said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “if you can, meet us at the chateau—”

“no,” rafe interrupted quickly, his voice resolute. “i’m not leaving the house when there’s a whole-ass stalker around, sarah.”

sarah sighed on the other end, her frustration now mixed with understanding. “then let us come to you,” she offered. “you don’t have to do this alone, rafe. none of us want her to go through this alone either.”

rafe hesitated, his chest tightening at the thought of letting anyone else into the fragile space you both had built. but as much as he hated to admit it, he knew sarah was right. he couldn’t do this alone—not if it meant giving you the support you needed.

“fine,” rafe muttered, glancing at the time on his watch. “be here in an hour.” before sarah could respond, he ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone back onto the couch with a sigh.

you took careful steps over to him, standing between his legs as he leaned back on the couch, watching your every move. without hesitation, he reached out, his hands gently pulling you down onto his lap so you were straddling him. his arms wrapped securely around your waist as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

his hands moved to your hips, rubbing slow, soothing patterns that made you feel grounded despite the chaos surrounding you. “thank you for letting her in,” you mumbled softly against his skin, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiled faintly, catching on immediately that you and sarah must have discussed this beforehand. “sneaky,” he murmured, his tone carrying a hint of amusement as his hand moved to cradle the back of your head.

you lifted your face just enough to glance at him, catching the slight curve of his lips. “it’s for the best,” you said gently, your fingers brushing lightly over his biceps.

“we’ll see,” he replied, the softness in his voice betraying his usual skepticism. even so, the way he held you closer said he trusted your judgment, even if it meant letting sarah—and the others—into your carefully guarded space.

after a moment of silence, you sighed and pushed gently against him, only for rafe to groan in protest, tightening his grip on your waist.

“rafe, i have to shower,” you whined, though there was no real frustration in your voice.

he smirked, muttering a soft, “okay,” before standing up with you still straddling him, his arms securely holding you in place. instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, giggling as he walked the two of you toward his bathroom.

you hid your laughter against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin as he stepped into the bathroom and set you down on the edge of the sink. his eyes softened as he began peeling your clothes off, taking his time, his movements slow and deliberate. there was something about these moments with rafe that made the rest of the world fade away, like time itself paused just for the two of you.

before long, you were both under the warm spray of the shower, the steam curling around you like a cocoon. rafe stood behind you, his chest pressed to your back as he ran a soapy loofah up your arms, his touch both gentle and grounding. you leaned your head back against his chest, letting your eyes flutter closed, savoring the quiet intimacy between you.

“this okay?” he murmured softly against your ear, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“more than okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. moments like this reminded you of the side of rafe that not everyone got to see—the side that made you feel safe, loved, and completely seen.

rafe let the warm water cascade over your body, rinsing away the lathered soap as you turned to face him. your eyes met his, and without hesitation, you reached up, finally pressing your lips to his in a slow, passionate kiss. it was soft, yet it carried all the emotions you hadn’t been able to express in the past few days.

he froze for a moment, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then his hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. it was as if the tension in his chest melted away, his heart pounding against his ribs as he poured everything he’d been holding back into the moment.

he practically lost feeling in his legs, the relief washing over him as much as the water did. it had been days since you’d let him kiss you, days of tiptoeing around your emotions and giving you the space you needed. not that it mattered to him how long it took—he would’ve waited forever if you needed him to.

but god, he’d missed this. the way your lips moved against his, the way your fingers tangled in his wet hair, the way your body pressed against his like it was made to fit perfectly there. it was killing him to restrain himself, to not touch you the way he wanted to.

he let out a soft groan, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face as he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his eyes fluttering closed as he let himself savor the moment.

“i’m here,” you whispered back, your thumb brushing over his cheek as you smiled softly.

he opened his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability shining in them before he kissed you again, slower this time, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you all over again. in that moment, nothing else mattered—not the chaos, not the fear—just you and him, together under the steady rhythm of the water.

the kiss deepened, growing messier and more desperate as rafe pressed you firmly against the cold tiles. the chill of the surface sent a jolt through your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips that only fueled his hunger.

his hand slid from your hair, trailing down your damp skin until it reached the heat between your thighs. the moment his fingers slipped between your folds, he groaned low and guttural, the sound vibrating against your lips as your jaw went slack.

“shit,” rafe muttered, his voice thick with need as his lips brushed against yours. his fingers teased your clit, circling just enough to drive you insane. “so fuckin’ wet, huh? just for me?”

you nodded frantically, your breath hitching as he circled your clit faster, pulling a moan from deep within your chest. “just for you,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders for support.

rafe’s cock twitched painfully against his stomach, the sight of you unraveling beneath him nearly pushing him over the edge. “fuck,” he growled, his hips pressing into your hip in a slow, desperate grind. “you’re driving me insane, baby. can’t even think straight.”

his fingers worked faster, slipping inside you as his thumb stayed focused on your swollen bud. the obscene wet sounds of his movements filled the small space, mixing with your breathy moans and his ragged curses. “you feel so good,” he muttered against your neck, his voice strained as he continued to rut against you, craving more.

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice shaky as your body began to tremble against the tiles. “please…”

he smirked against your skin, his teeth grazing your ear as he murmured, “please what? tell me what you need.” his fingers curled inside you, hitting the spot that made your vision blur, pulling another cry from your lips. “come on, use your words.”

“hmph—i need you to fuck me,” you whined, your voice trembling with desperation. the words barely left your lips before a sharp gasp escaped you, rafe’s fingers suddenly speeding up, plunging deeper as his thumb pressed harder against your clit.

“yeah?” he rasped, his voice thick with lust, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he watched the way your body writhed beneath his touch. “you want me to fuck you, baby? want me to stretch this pretty pussy out?”

you could only nod, your breath hitching as his fingers worked you relentlessly, your hips bucking against his hand. his cock twitched again, painfully hard and pressed against you, and he groaned low in his throat. “you’re so fuckin’ needy,” he muttered, biting down lightly on your neck before soothing the spot with his tongue. “look at you, begging for it.”

your hands gripped his biceps, your nails digging into his skin as your legs started to shake, the tension in your core building to unbearable heights. “please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his movements didn’t relent. “please, rafe.”

“oh, i’ll fuck you,” he growled, pulling his hand away abruptly, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss of contact. before you could even voice a protest, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly so your legs wrapped securely around his waist. he pressed you harder against the cold tiles, his lips brushing your ear as he continued, “but you gotta cum for me first.”

his fingers slid back inside you, curling perfectly to hit that spot that had you gasping, your back arching against the wall. his thumb found your clit again, rubbing quick, tight circles that made your legs tremble around his hips.

“show me how bad you want it,” he growled, his pace relentless, his voice rough and commanding. the intensity of his touch had you spiraling in no time, your body writhing against his as heat coiled low in your stomach.

you clung to his shoulders as you fell apart, crying out his name so loudly it echoed off the shower walls. “rafe!” you gasped, your body shaking as the waves of your release crashed over you, leaving you a trembling mess in his arms.

he didn’t stop, drawing out every second of your orgasm until you were practically sobbing from the pleasure. a smug grin spread across his face as he watched you, his chest heaving against yours. “that’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone laced with pride.

he slowly pulled his fingers from you, glistening with your release, and without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied groan. his eyes darkened as he savored the taste, his grin widening. “so sweet,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

he tightened his hold on you, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to create the space you needed. your shaky fingers trailed down between your bodies, wrapping around his swollen, throbbing cock. his breath hitched, and a low, guttural moan escaped his lips as you pumped him a few times, feeling the heat and weight of him against your palm.

“fuck,” rafe muttered, his head dropping to your shoulder as his fingers dug into your skin, the tension in his body palpable. “you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

you smirked faintly, your confidence bolstered by his reaction, before guiding him to your entrance. the blunt head of his cock brushed against your slick folds, and you both let out soft, shaky breaths as the anticipation built between you.

he pushed forward just enough for the thick, swollen tip of his cock to slip into your warmth, pulling a moan from both of you. the stretch was intoxicating, the way he filled you so slowly making your breath hitch.

“fuck,” rafe groaned, his voice rough and strained as he paused, savoring the way you clenched around him. his forehead pressed against yours, his hot breath mingling with yours as he struggled to hold himself back. “so tight. so perfect for me.”

your hips shifted instinctively, urging him deeper as a needy whimper escaped your lips. “rafe, please,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “i need you.”

his jaw tightened, and he smirked faintly, though his restraint was hanging by a thread. “yeah? you want all of me?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pressed a kiss to your parted lips, stealing your breath.

rafe groaned deeply as he pushed in further, the warmth of you pulling him in like a vice. every inch he gave you sent sparks shooting through your body, and the stretch had your head falling back against the cold tile, a desperate moan spilling from your lips.

“fuck,” he hissed, his jaw tightening as he bottomed out, your walls squeezing him so perfectly it nearly made him lose his mind. “you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. like you were made for me.”

you could barely respond, your breath hitching as he stayed there for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him. his hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you steady against the tiles as his lips found your neck, biting and sucking softly, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched.

“move,” you finally gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as the ache turned into pure, unfiltered need. “rafe, please.”

he pulled back just enough to tease you, his cock dragging along your walls in a way that made your toes curl before slamming back into you, forcing a loud cry from your lips.

“that’s it,” he growled, finding a rhythm that had the obscene sound of skin against skin echoing in the shower. his grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with a hunger that made your head spin. “let me hear you, pretty girl. let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

rafe’s pace grew relentless, his hips snapping against yours with precision, each thrust driving him deeper until he was brushing that perfect spot inside you over and over. your body arched against the tiles, your hands clawing at his back as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

“rafe,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pressure inside you built to an almost unbearable peak. the sound of his grunts and the wet slaps of your bodies filled the air, mingling with your desperate cries. “i can’t—oh my god, i—”

“yes, you can,” rafe growled, his voice dark and commanding as his thumb found your clit, rubbing firm, tight circles that sent you spiraling. “you’re gonna give me everything, princess. let it all go.”

you clenched tightly around him, your body trembling as the heat in your core exploded, and with a broken cry, the release hit you hard. the gush of liquid that followed was undeniable, coating rafe’s abdomen and making him groan loudly, his pace faltering for just a second.

“fuck, baby,” he hissed, his voice laced with awe and arousal as he felt you squirting around him, the sheer intensity of your release pushing him closer to the edge. “look at you, soaking me. so fuckin’ perfect.”

your legs trembled around his waist, your head falling back against the tiles as aftershocks coursed through you. but rafe didn’t stop. he kept his hips moving, chasing his own release as his hands gripped your ass tightly, holding you against him.

he groaned as he slammed into you one last time, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you. his grip on you tightened as he buried himself as deep as possible, his breath ragged against your neck.

your body went limp in his arms, both of you trembling from the intensity of what just happened.

he leaned his forehead against yours, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he caught his breath. “never getting over that,” he muttered, his voice filled with pride. “you’re fuckin’ unreal.”

your cheeks warmed instantly at the reminder of what had just happened, and you groaned softly, covering your face with both hands in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. “shut up,” you mumbled, your voice muffled behind your palms.

rafe laughed, a low, satisfied sound, before carefully helping you back onto your feet. your legs trembled slightly, but his steady hands on your hips kept you balanced. once you were stable, he reached up to gently pull your hands away from your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back just enough to look at you. “means i did something right.”

your eyes narrowed playfully, and you smacked his chest with a laugh. “rafe!”

he chuckled, rubbing the spot where your hand landed as if it actually hurt. “what? just sayin’.” his smirk widened, and the way he was looking at you—with that cocky, yet adoring gleam in his eyes—had your heart fluttering despite yourself.

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you and rafe were still giggling over some inside joke as you made your way into the living room, his arm lazily draped around your waist, his hand resting instinctively on your hip. but the laughter died on your lips the moment you noticed your friends sitting on the couches, their expressions ranging from awkward to downright tense.

rafe’s brows furrowed immediately, his grip on your hip tightening slightly as his eyes flicked between them. “how the fuck did you guys get in?” he asked sharply, his tone clipped.

sarah cleared her throat, clearly the one to break the silence as she held up a familiar house key. her lips were pressed into a tight line,

her eyes avoiding yours. “i still have my key,” she said quietly, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you glanced between sarah and the rest of the pogues. their silence spoke volumes, and rafe’s jaw tightened beside you, his protectiveness radiating off him in waves. he stared them down, clearly less than thrilled about the uninvited intrusion.

“is there a reason you’re all just… sitting here?” rafe asked, his tone touched with impatience as his gaze lingered pointedly on sarah.

pope shifted awkwardly in his seat, his tone measured as he explained, “we knocked at first, but since no one answered, we thought something was wrong.”

before you could respond, jj piped up with his signature sarcasm. “jesus, bro, we thought you were killing her in there.”

your gasp was immediate, your cheeks heating with mortification as you stammered, “jj!” you quickly brought your hands to your face, covering it in embarrassment.

rafe, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. his lips curled into a smug smirk, his hand tightening on your hip in a way that made your stomach flip. “if i was,” he drawled cockily, “she was screaming for the right reasons.”

“rafe!” you hissed, swatting his chest in mortified protest. his chuckle only deepened, clearly unbothered by the tension in the room. jj snorted, shaking his head in amusement, while sarah groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if trying to physically block out the mental image.

“can we not?” sarah muttered, her voice low and dripping with exasperation. “i’m already traumatized enough as it is.”

rafe shot her an amused grin, his hand still possessively resting on your hip. “you’re traumatized? imagine how i feel, dealing with all of you breaking into my house.”

jj leaned back on the couch, throwing an arm over the backrest with an exaggerated shrug. “oh, come on, man. we knocked. you didn’t answer, and honestly, from all that ruckus i don’t blame—” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively before you cut in.

your cheeks burned hotter, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “oh my god, can we talk about literally anything else?”

“agreed,” sarah interjected quickly, shooting jj a death glare before turning her sharp gaze to rafe. “we didn’t come here for… this. we came because we have a problem to deal with. remember?” her tone turned serious, and the atmosphere in the room shifted.

rafe’s smirk faded instantly, his expression hardening as he stood a little straighter. “what problem?” he asked, his grip on your hip tightening protectively, his eyes narrowing as they locked on his sister.

“we might have a lead,” kie said, her voice cautious as her eyes flickered between you and rafe. “and it’s got more people involved than we think, i’m sure.”

rafe groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair before sinking onto the couch, pulling you down to sit beside him. his hand rested protectively on your thigh as if grounding himself. sarah’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the subtle action, but she chose not to comment. instead, she simply observed, noting how much rafe’s demeanor had shifted in the past few weeks. he cared—more than she’d expected him to.

“so who’s the lead?” rafe snapped, his tone impatient as he looked around the room, waiting for someone to speak up.

after a moment of silence, john b finally answered, “we think it’s barry.”

the name was barely out of john b’s mouth when rafe’s entire demeanor changed. his eyes blazed with fury, his jaw tightening as his hand gripped your thigh. “i’m gonna kill that motherfucker,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“rafe, wait,” sarah interjected quickly, holding up her hands as if to calm him. “we don’t know for sure yet.”

“i don’t need to know for sure,” rafe snapped back, his tone laced with venom. “if barry’s even remotely involved in this, he’s dead.” his leg bounced with barely contained energy, his rage practically vibrating off of him.

“look, we’re all pissed,” pope said, his voice firm but measured. “but if we go in guns blazing without proof, we’re just gonna make it worse.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he fought to rein in his temper. “he’s not getting away with this,” he muttered darkly, his gaze flicking to you briefly, softening for just a moment before hardening again. “not after what he’s done.”

“you said there were more people involved,” you finally spoke up, your voice soft but steady as your fingers absentmindedly traced soothing patterns on rafe’s knuckles. his hand had been clenched into a tight fist, but your touch seemed to ease some of the tension, his grip relaxing slightly under your gentle movements.

all eyes turned to kie, who nodded slowly. “we’re not sure how many, but it’s definitely not just barry,” she explained. “the way the video spread so fast, the timing—it’s organized. someone else is pulling strings here.”

rafe let out a low growl, his jaw tightening again. “so who the fuck else is it?” he demanded, his voice sharp and filled with impatience.

“we don’t know yet,” john b admitted, his tone cautious. “but if it’s barry, then it’s probably someone he’s working with. he doesn’t have the brains to pull something like this off on his own.”

“or the resources,” pope added, leaning forward with a frown. “he’s got connections, but not that kind of reach.”

you glanced at rafe, watching the way his chest rose and fell as he tried to rein in his anger. his knuckles had whitened from the tension in his fists, so you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grounding him. “do you think it’s a kook?” you asked softly, your gaze flicking between him and the rest of the group.

“one hundred percent,” jj cut in before rafe could answer, his tone dripping with disdain. “it always fuckin’ is.” he leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms as he shot a glare toward sarah, almost as if it were her fault by association.

sarah rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply. “not every kook is out to ruin your life, jj.”

“no, just the ones we keep having to deal with,” he shot back, his voice filled with sarcasm. “you can’t sit there and tell me it’s not a rich prick playing their stupid games.”

“jj, come on,” kie interjected, her tone firm but measured. “this isn’t the time for finger-pointing.”

“i’m not pointing fingers. i’m stating facts,” jj muttered, his eyes darting to rafe with a slight smirk, the tension palpable. “but hey, maybe lover boy over here can tell us which one of his old kook buddies likes playing stalker.”

rafe’s hand tightened in yours at the jab, his knuckles turning white. his eyes locked on jj, his tone sharp and dangerous as he shot back, “if i knew, then you wouldn’t be sitting on my couch.”

jj raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk still playing on his lips. “easy. just saying, you might want to start with your crew. i’m sure barry’s not the only one who’d love to see you squirm.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, his breathing steady but filled with tension. you squeezed his hand gently, your thumb brushing soothing circles over his skin, grounding him before he could escalate things further. “jj,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warning, “not helping.”

“what?” jj shrugged, leaning back casually. “i’m just being honest.”

“honest or not, we don’t need to start a fight,” kie interjected, giving jj a pointed look. “we’re here to figure this out, not throw punches.”

“yet,” rafe muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear. you glanced up at him, catching the flicker of anger in his eyes. despite the tension radiating off him, the way he stayed seated and quiet told you he was trying—trying to keep himself in check, for you.

you sighed softly, your eyes flickering down to your lap as your thoughts raced. the room was still thick with tension, everyone quietly waiting for the next lead, the next idea. then, a name surfaced in your mind. the name that had haunted you since this all started. your throat tightened as you hesitated, but you knew you had to say it.

“what about stacy?” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

the room went silent, the weight of the name settling over everyone like a dark cloud. rafe’s grip on your hand tightened instinctively, his jaw clenching as his head turned sharply to look at you. “stacy?” he repeated, his voice low and cautious, though you could feel the storm brewing behind his words.

you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. “that day at the country club,” you murmured. “she probably saw us together at the beach. and after… everything with you and her dad… i don’t know, it just feels like she might have a reason.”

rafe sighed heavily, his jaw tightening as he shook his head. “baby, not this again. i told you—“

“i’m not saying it to start an argument,” you cut him off, your tone firmer now. “i’m saying it because i’ve always had a weird feeling about her, and it just seems too convenient. think about it, rafe. it’s obvious she wants you, and who knows how far she’s willing to go to get you.”

your words hung in the air, the room going still as everyone absorbed what you’d just said. rafe’s gaze softened slightly, his hand brushing over yours in an attempt to calm you. “i told you, stacy’s nothing to me,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “she’s not a threat.”

“but what if she is?” you countered, finally meeting his eyes. “we can’t just ignore this because you don’t think she’d go that far. we have to consider it, especially if she’s been watching us.”

rafe’s expression hardened as he processed your words, his jaw tightening. “okay,” he finally said, his voice low but resolute. “we’ll look into it.”

you nodded, encouraged by his response, and pressed on. “and especially since you said her dad’s company is your family’s biggest competitor,” you continued, your voice steady despite the emotions simmering beneath the surface. “putting out a video like that? it would ruin everything—for you, for me, for the cameron name. it makes sense.”

sarah leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in thought. “she’s got the motive,” she said, her tone thoughtful but sharp. “if she’s working with barry or someone else, she’d have the connections to pull this off. and she’s petty enough to do it.”

kie nodded in agreement, crossing her arms. “it’s not just about you two, either. if her dad’s in on this, he’d see this as a way to take a shot at the whole cameron empire. barry could be the perfect tool for that.”

you sighed, running a hand through your damp hair, trying to steady your spiraling thoughts. deep down, you knew stacy was behind this. your instincts screamed it, pointing at her with flashing lights and blaring alarms. every interaction you’d ever had with her, every sidelong glance and calculated move, seemed to line up perfectly with what was happening now. but you couldn’t let your emotions or personal bias cloud your judgment—not when so much was at stake.

no matter how much you despised her, you needed proof. assumptions wouldn’t get you anywhere, and acting on feelings alone could backfire. you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a deep breath, your fingers still tangled in your hair as you glanced around the room.

“we can’t jump to conclusions,” you said finally, your voice quieter but firm. “even if it feels obvious, we need evidence. if we accuse the wrong person, it could make everything worse.”

rafe’s eyes flicked to yours, his gaze softening slightly at your visible stress. “then we get the evidence,” he said simply, his voice steady.

“we’ll figure it out,” sarah reassured, giving you a small nod. “if it’s stacy, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get away with this.”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to push your emotions aside. you had to stay focused. if stacy was behind this, she wouldn’t just regret it—you’d make sure of it.

it was her. it had to be.

hours passed, and the pogues eventually went home. to your surprise, none of them brought up you and rafe, even during the moments he retreated elsewhere briefly. they acted perfectly normal about it, which somehow unsettled you more than if they’d confronted you outright. the silence felt heavier than words.

rafe had left you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket tucked beneath your chin. now, he sat in his office, his jaw tight as he scrolled through emails from rob—each one filled with dead ends and pointless leads. his stress was evident, his hand dragging down his face in frustration while his leg bounced uncontrollably beneath the desk.

his eyes flicked to the painting on the wall, knowing exactly what was behind it: the safe that held passports, emergency cash, and, most importantly, his gun. john b’s words replayed in his mind like a broken record: we think it’s barry.

without hesitation, rafe stood abruptly, striding over to the painting and pulling it aside. he opened the safe, the cold steel of the gun feeling heavy and familiar in his grip. his mind was set.

walking out to the living room, he paused when his eyes landed on you. you were sound asleep on the couch, your blanket pulled up to your chin, lips parted as soft, even breaths escaped them. the sight of you like this—so peaceful, so unaware of the storm brewing in his chest—made him falter for a moment.

but then, his jaw tightened, and his grip on the gun firmed. he leaned against the doorway, watching you for another moment before turning away, his mind already spiraling with what he needed to do next.

you groaned softly, the buzzing of your phone vibrating underneath your pillow pulling you from your sleep. your eyes squinted as you grabbed it, reading the contact on the screen. it didn’t have a name, just a random number, but below it read maybe: kildare police department.

your heart hammered in your chest as you hesitated before pressing the green button and holding the phone to your ear. “hello?” you asked, your voice groggy and uneasy.

“hey, baby,” a familiar voice greeted, and your stomach dropped.

“rafe?” you stammered, your heart racing as panic crept in. “what’s—”

before you could finish, your phone buzzed again, vibrating against your ear. you pulled it away and gasped softly, your breath catching in your throat as the notification popped up.

unknown: your boyfriend shouldn’t have done that. now you’re all alone.

unknown: one image attachment.

with trembling fingers, you opened the photo, only to feel your entire body freeze. it was a picture of you, taken in the exact spot you were sitting right now. it captured the moment you had picked up your phone, your expression clear and startled.

your blood ran cold as you instinctively glanced around the room, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. someone was watching you. someone was here.

“i’m sorry to do this to you, but can you come pick—” rafe began, his voice heavy with frustration as he sighed into the phone. sheriff shoup stood nearby, giving him a disapproving look, clearly unimpressed with his request.

before rafe could finish, your voice came through the line, frantic and low, cutting him off mid-sentence. “rafe! someone’s here. they sent me a picture of me at the house—”

the line suddenly went dead.

rafe froze, the color draining from his face as the silence on the other end of the call sank in. his grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as panic surged through him. “no, no, no,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

he didn’t even bother explaining to shoup before bolting out the door, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. whoever had sent you that picture wasn’t just threatening anymore—they were acting.

and you were alone.

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#⋆ ˚𝐚𝐫𝐢𝜗𝜚writes #drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine

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dilf-docs · 6 months ago

Text

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!!, use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me)

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I missed you so much" you pout.

"I missed you too" he whispers out, getting tired.

He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"Missed how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

#dilfistwrites #gladiator II #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #marcus acacius #joseph quinn #connie nielsen #may calamawy #paul mescal #i love him #so down bad for my latino man #pls excuse the filth<3

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katiascraft · 2 months ago

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Hi!! Sorry to bother you with a request. Can you make some angsty with miscomunication with happy ending where lando and reader are best friends and kinda like a thing but at the same time he is kinda with magui and then after a while lando and reader start dating and then dts Its drop and she finds out that magui was there when she trough They were already over? Very specific he he and im not good at english im sorry and thank you!

hey anon! I loved this idea sooooo much. i was already thinking about something like this so thank you so very much for your request! and sorry it took this long for me to write it :( i hope you enjoy it <3 (pss your english is very good and your requests will never bother me, they make me happy!) (also I hope it makes sense)

﹙LN4﹚ ── ❝ almost, always ❞

summary: this chapter of y/n’s life is about how lando said there was nobody else for him but then she appeared.

warnings: i used reckless by madison beer to write this one and traitor by olivia rodrigo :( and cried a lot. very angsty. but a happy ending after all. cursing. cheating. insults. please use your imagination along the ride! not proofread.

blog masterlist

You and Lando have been the best of friends since forever. Your older brother, Dante, went to school with George Russell and he has always been really supportive of his driving career. Since you have memory you were playing around at the karting competitions in different places of england and then europe. All of your family was really close to George's family so no doubt you were going to be there for him when he started racing in F2. and that’s exactly when you and Lando met. He was a cute little guy. But a handsome teenager with the most contagious laugh and sparkly ocean blue eyes. You knew that since then, that very first day of competition, you were in love with him.

And Lando knew it too. He knew the moment he saw your sweet and shy smile directed at him there was no coming back to where things were. You changed his life. You showed him how it was like to love someone. The sun was behind you and it made you look like an angel in his teenage eyes. You were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. So he knew he didn't have a chance. He kept his feelings and thought that he should be thankful you even talk to him. But you didn’t just talk to him just for talking. You built this magical bond full of love, understanding, admiration. It was healthy. It was safe.

You were inseparable, unbreakable and above all, untouchable. Everyone could see the chemistry. The sparks coming out of you. You had the kind of bond that made people think ‘they must be something more than just friends’. But you both were too scared to do anything about it. You just enjoyed each other's company and it was beautiful that way.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Nowaday things between you two are completely different but you were more than sure that if there was a chance to travel back in time, you would. And you would change everything that ruined everything. All the wrong decisions. All the stupid feelings. Her. you would more than gladly erase her. And maybe even erase him too.

Because even though he brought so much joy and love in your life, he also brought a lot of pain and insecurity. He was once your safe place but now you want to be as far away from him as possible. You’re no longer on speaking terms anymore.

situationships suck ᝰ.ᐟ

(beginning 2023 - middle 2024)

You had convinced yourself what you felt for him was normal. That your heart racing every time he was too close was normal. That the way he looked at your lips when he talked to you was also normal. That the way he looked for you in the crowd every podium was normal. That the way butterflies went in circles in your stomach was normal. That your happiness was coming from his happiness was normal.

It must be because he has a girlfriend. Luisa. And you like her, right?

His touch didn’t burn your skin. His fingers didn’t trace circles in them when he was anxious. He didn’t whisper in your ear everytime he was nervous. He didn't ask his team to specifically be allowed to be at the garage close to him. He didn’t introduce you to every single member of the team and everybody knew you. He didn ‘t do all of that when she wasn’t around… because she wasn’t around and you were.

Lando didn’t know what to do with his feelings. She was his best friend, the girl who got him in and out, through and through. She knew everything about him. She listened. She smiled at him in the sweetest way and made him gifts. When she was around she was the only person that mattered. And sometimes he forgot he had a girlfriend whether she was around or not. It was her, always. But he was a coward and didn’t believe she liked him back that way. She was gorgeous and he was just a dude. He wasn’t special the way he thought she was.

For him, it has always been you. But fear was a cruel thing. He didn’t wanna lose you. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wouldn’t forgive himself.

So he played along as the loving and caring boyfriend with luisa when you were the only thing in his head. He preferred to stay in your safe bubble of almosts and what ifs rather than fuck it up with you.

Until that night. The night he knew he couldn’t keep pretending and lose you. He couldn’t keep on lying to luisa. She deserved better. But seeing you with that guy in that little black dress drove him almost insane. You were so close to him, flirting disgustingly. He was red with anger. He wanted to do something but his girlfriend was there and you were supposed to be just that friend of his. His best friend and that was it. He should be happy for you. But he wasn’t.

So in between the conversation you turned around and saw him staring. Stone face. He was looking straight through you. For a moment you forgot how to breathe. The way his jawline was pressed in a way it made his muscles show even more. His shirt unbuttoned. The lights reflecting on his beautiful eyes. You almost panicked. You could feel he was feeling the same. You knew you weren’t crazy.

He felt it too.

You don’t remember how it happened but you ended up on his sheets that night. The way he kissed you so desperately. He broke up with luisa as if it was easy. You didn’t have time to process it at the moment. To see the red flags waving high in the sky. Desire and desperation made it easy to ignore them. He was all your brain could think. His skin against yours. You moaning his name.

You have waited for that moment your whole life. And you didn’t remember feelings of ecstasy ever before.

“It’s always been you, yaknow?” His voice was deep and low. He pressed a soft kiss on your neck sending shivers down your spine. His fingers are tracing patterns in your arm. He felt at ease under your scent.

You remember that night as the most magical night of your life. But you didn’t know that to him it was just another story he would get bored of and throw away.

While you were together, life was the most exciting thing in the world. Road trips, dates at the beach, paddle matches and barbecue with friends, travelling to london to visit his family, party nights, sex, kisses, roses and diamonds. It was perfect. He was the sweetest guy in this world. But there was one thing you wouldn't do. And that was calling him ‘mine’ because he wasn’t yours. You were just ‘friends’. But friends shouldn’t know how you taste, right?

That made you feel so confused. He told you he loved you and made love to you as if it was a promise. But then you were his friend to his family and friends. Just y/n. It was you, yes but not the way you would’ve preferred to be called.

But then, out of nowhere it seemed, he would flirt with girls at parties in your face. And that’s when everything started going to shit. You didn’t understand what was actually going on. Why was he doing that? If you were so important to him, why would he play with you this way? If he cared so much about you, why would he put you under so much shit?

But the breaking point was her. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a smile to die for. She was nothing special, just a blonde girl. But I guess blondes always have more fun than the rest of us, and more with that angelic face of hers. That’s when you lost lando. He started talking about her ‘she is nice, you know? I think you would like her’. And then he would stop inviting you to dates, but she would go with him and watch the sunset at max’s yacht. And she started replacing you in every way she could. And you just watched it happen being unable to stop it. You started realizing he didn’t even care about you. You were just another girl on his list and probably never considered you an actual friend. If he did, he wouldn’t have played with you this way. But he did, and it hurt.

And that’s when everything ended.

just a friend ᝰ.ᐟ

(july 2024)

“She’s just a friend y/n” he said, fed up with your questioning. You can clearly see in his face that he was so done with this discussion.

“Lando, for fucks sake, stop lying to me. She clearly isn't” you insisted on entering his room at his Monaco house.

“I can’t keep up with this y/n. Just stop. I don’t know what else you want me to say” he was getting really annoyed.

“The truth! Tell me the fucking truth! Was I a joke to you? You never cared, did you? You just wanted to laugh in my fucking face right?” your voice expressed how hurt you were.

“You’re not a joke y/n”

You laughed dryly “right, alright. Then what’s her? Max told me lando, you kissed her. And i know you fucked her multiple times, i just know it. Stop pretending you dont know what the fuck is going on when you know exactly what im talking about!” tears started to stream down your face “is this what you wanted? Did you ever care about our friendship? My fucking feelings? I feel so used, it's disgusting lando. I knew you were stupid but I never thought you would be this evil. If you didn’t love me then why did you do all of this?”

“y/n, i love you” you could see in his face he was now scared. But you didn't care anymore. And didn’t want to know the reasons for it either.

“No, you don’t lando! If you fucking did you wouldn’t have hurt me this way! I was there for you for fucks sake, i was fucking there for you all of this time! I gave you everything! Everything! And all you ever wanted was to fuck a fucking model?! I can’t believe I was so damn stupid to believe every lie you fed me! Oh god i hate myself so much”

·y/n, please, calm down. We can talk this-”

“Do you really are asking me to fucking calm down after what you did?! And you didn't even deny it! You’re so guilty of all of it. You knew! You knew what you were fucking doing and you didn’t care! I hate you, lando. I hate you with every gut i have left”

“No, no, no. please, y/n. Let me explain. It’s not like that. I do care about you. I just thought you didn’t want to be with me. You became so close to Max I thought you wanted to be with him and…”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You just couldn’t believe he would really use that as an excuse. “Shut up lando, max is a fucking friend. It was you. It has always been you. Holy shit! I have your fucking letters saying i was all you have ever wanted! How could you? You’re ashamed of me, that's it, right? I'm not as beautiful as I should be for you to call me yours. I'm not a model enough for you, am I? I can't believe it! I'm so stupid”

“No, y/n is not that, believe me. she isn't you.” he was literally begging on his knees.

“Don’t be pathetic lando, i won’t ever believe a fucking word you say. You’re a liar. You played me as a toy. Like I was nothing and now you want me to believe you? Hope you are fucking happy with her, and i hope she can make up for what i couldn’t for not being fucking good enough for you” you were so hurt you just had to run from that bedroom, from that house.

“y/n! Wait! Please!” It was too late. You were already in your mclaren. “I don’t know what I did…” he was left talking alone. And not understanding what he even did. But he knew he already regretted it.

she. isn't. you.

she must be perfect but I hope you both go to hell ᝰ.ᐟ

(august 2024)

After that day, I didn't leave my bed. The way it all happened so fast. The way he would still lie to you. You hated men. You hated him and everything about him. All you knew from that day was what you could see on social media even though you always put ‘dont show this content’ or ‘i'm not interested in this content’. He lied and told everyone at a fan meeting that he was single, when you knew from Max he already asked her out… unlike with you.

She seemed nice. She was very beautiful. But you weren’t that evolved yet. You hated her. If she didn’t exist then he would be still yours. It would be you there on holiday in the alps. Oh god, you fucking wanted to be her. She was all you wanted to be. Skinny, blonde, flawless. You wanted everything she had. She was sunkissed, you felt like a vampire. She was shining and you were drowning. She took everything from you and left no crumbs.

And the worst part is that he seemed to be happy. You are still friends with Pietra and she told you she was nice and that they got along pretty well. And that maybe if you and lando want to fix it, you all can be a huge group of friends. You fucking hated that idea. It repulsed you. But you weren’t so sure if it was because of her or because of him no more.

It should be you, it should be you, it should be you.

You were driving yourself insane stalking her profile. Obsessing with the idea she was everything you were not. You wanted to burn her alive even though the real asshole was him.

But you loved him first, right? That should matter… Did it matter? Did he think of you? Did he regret it? Did he talk to her about his fears and dreams? Did he share the same joke that was only yours? Did he talk to her in her ear the same way he used to do with you? Was he as obsessed with her as he was with you? Did he feel the same? Was he in love?

All the questions weren’t letting you have a moment of peace and your brain was really good at torturing you.

guess my friends were right (you might love her now but you loved me first) ᝰ.ᐟ

(from august 2024 to march 2025)

Life for Lando wasn’t that easy after seeing you walking away from his life. He knew he fucked it up. But he tried to play it cool. As if you were right about everything, because he thinks he deserves to suffer after what he has done. Yes, he was a masochist at this point. He was dating someone he didn’t like at all, he knew. But he couldn’t stop his torture because he simply believed he didn’t deserve to be happy. He saw your eyes, the saw the pain he caused for being such a coward. And stupid. And idiotic. And a fucking loser. He acted like a kid and lost the girl of his dreams. The girl who had been there for him since the beginning. The one that got him by just looking in her eyes. She knew. She knew all of him, the real him. All his fears and dreams and desires and mistakes. He had it all. He had her, all of her to himself but let it fall. He threw her against the floor and broke her into so many pieces. And instead of mending his faults, he just ran away crying. Like a little kid running away from the monster under his bed.

Maggie was doing her makeup at the hotel room’s mirror. He watched her for a while trying to puzzle what he felt for her. But all he wanted to see was you. And he knew it was impossible for that to happen now. And probably like ever again.

The fact he had to pretend every single minute of his life was starting to take a toll on him. He lost that spark he used to have. He lost that characteristic smile when he did well in a race. And his interviews just turned monotone and grey. Something was off people would comment. But he didn’t care. He deserved it. He fucking deserved it.

Maggie always tried to cheer him up and he pretended it was just because he hated the media. And not because you used to be there with him, always. But now it is almost alone.

It almost happened. It was almost you. It was almost the happy ending you deserved but he decided to ruin it. It was almost you and him against the world. But it was almost, though all he wanted was forever with you.

At the beginning he was obsessed with maggi. The way her eyes looked at him, that cheeky smile of hers. She was all he wanted as a fantasy. She was his fantasy in real life. He was so captivated by her looks and sweet voice. Almost like yours. But something drew him to her. He still doesn’t know what it was. Guess some things don't have an explanation. She was soft and shiny. He wanted to touch her everywhere, everytime. He forgot he had the love of his life waiting for him to watch a movie and eat burritos and kinders. He forgot the small things mattered more. He forgot what it was like to feel love during sex. But he was drunk. In her looks, in the way she talked to him. He forgot about you. He couldn't concentrate.

But when you were gone, he pretended maggie was you as twisted as it sounds. He was convinced he became completely insane. People constantly telling him how awful he was to the poor girl. Your brother hates him. Dante didn’t say hi to him ever again since that day.

He saw you at a couple of races at the Mercedes garage. You always pretended to have never known him in your life. He saw fans on twitter theorizising why you didn’t look at him anymore. They also believed it was his fault. And surely it was.

That day you walked past him. He smelled your scent, still wearing the same perfume you adored so much and that made him fall in love the first time he saw you. You were laughing while talking with Carmen in Spanish, because you were the king of languages. You were really good at them and you enjoyed so much learning new stuff. He liked that about you, you are always driven to learn and learn and learn. He wanted to say hi, and even though you ignored him, Carmen looked at him in a really not inviting way. Everybody knew he fucked it up. He felt so ashamed of himself.

said you’d never hurt me but here we are ᝰ.ᐟ

(australian grand prix, 2025)

You were so nervous to be back at the paddock and at the same time so excited for this new chapter for mercedes. You were longing for Lewis but at the same time you were very excited about kimi. Weather conditions were terrible and it in a really sarcastic way showed how you really felt about being there. You didn’t want to come at first but Carmen was a really good convincing person and you were no exception. Plus, you wanted to see your friends George and Alex. The two brits were your best friends since F2 back in 2018 when it all started. It was insane that so many years have passed already. All of the memories you cherished in your heart. They were so precious to you.

Kym illman received you at the gates taking pictures of you, your brother, carmen and george coming into the paddock for race day. You always hated the media because their cameras made you look so bad, you thought. But it was part of your friend’s work so, it was what it was. You were already so wet you thought it was embarrassing. A super big mercedes hoodie covered your body as a dress and some rain boots on. And you called that outfit a day. It wasn’t glamorous at all, but it was so you for sure.

Heading to the Mercedes hospitality, you saw Lando taking coffee with his parents at the McLaren hospitality. Your brother put on his best dog face and didn’t look at them. But for some reason you couldn’t do that to his parents even though you hated their son. Lando’s mom looked at you and waved happily to see you. “Hey!, y/N!” she said sweetly and smiled at her. They were always really good to you. So you got closer and said hi to them properly with a kiss on a cheek and a little hug for each.

“Hi” , you only said to Lando, keeping your distance in a sad and shy smile. He half smiled as well.

“Hi” he said back to you the same way.

“Darling you look so gorgeous, I love that haircut on you. You’re such a pretty girl” his mom said and made you blush immediately.

“Oh, thank you so much… i gotta go… have a great race, lando” you said a bit awkwardly and walked away to the mercedes hospitality to join your people.

Lando was in awe of you. He kept the way you said his name on his head. It’s been the longest time without hearing your voice, that he realized he forgot how it sounded. And he also realized that it was your sweet voice, the only voice he wanted to listen to the rest of his life. He hated himself for that. But after all this time, he had made one thing right. He broke up with Maggi a week ago. He couldn’t keep pretending, he was done.

“She looked really beautiful… it’s sad you don't talk anymore. We really liked her” his mother said and he shook his head a bit.

“i fucked it up, mom. But i will figure out a way to make it right again” he answered but more reassuring himself rather than his mother.

She smiled looking proudly at her son “the good thing is to learn darling, you’re a good boy, let yourself be happy and fight for what makes you happy… you deserve it” she said sweetly sending lando all the energy he needed to go afloat.

the only girl you’ve ever wanted in your life ᝰ.ᐟ

Lando won. Lando won. Lando won. He did it. Of course you were happy for your friend who came out third and kimi fourth! What an amazing race though you were at the brink of suffering from a heart attack for two hours. After a lot of champagne was thrown to George, you were resting in the hospitality building waiting for your brother, Dante and George to come around. Carmen went to talk to alexandra for a bit and Lili was already at the hotel. So you decided to check on twitter all of the memes and opinions on this race. You saw a few people sharing your pics and commenting whether they were happy to see you or telling you looked disgusting as ever. It was hard to get used to this side of the sport but you always tried to brush it off.

You were so concentrated on your phone, you didn’t realize until the third time Lando cleared his throat that he was there standing in front of you in his casual clothes already, and freshly showered, smelling as good as you remembered him.

“Hi,” he said again, sitting in front of you. You smiled a bit shocked that he is here in front of you after so many months of not even seeing pics of him. And he looked really nice in your opinion, but when did he not?

“Hey” you said. He was nervous, he didn’t like the fact your hoodie wasn’t McLaren but you looked cute anyway.

“It's been a long time,” he answered.

“Yup” you nodded.

Silence.

You stared at each other for a while. If someone walked past, they would think you were playing eyesight war but you were just analysing each other trying to think of what to say or where to begin.

“I’m sorry” you both said in unison. You looked at each other in surprise now and then laughed it away.

“Alright, that was a bit weird,” he said, giggling. “Guess, we still connected somehow…” his voice turning off as the sentence ends.

“I guess in a way we are… I can't stop thinking about you and what happened…” you confessed even to your own surprise.

He smiled a little, feeling his heart start to race “me neither to be honest… i feel terrible about it” you could see how honest he was being. Or at least to want to believe him. He felt different. You guessed that maybe he doesn't know why he lied that much either.

“I miss you” you confessed even though you didn’t want to. But even after everything… you still loved him.

His eyes showed a little spark. It wasn't there when he sat in front of me a few minutes ago. Now his smile got bigger showing his dimples. He was a pretty motherfucker, you thought.

“I miss you too,” he agreed.

Was this the beginning of a second chance? Or maybe you're announced dead?

Or maybe the happily ever after you have always dreamed about, but only time will tell.

THE ENDᝰ.ᐟ

dont forget to reblog, like or comment if you liked it! and follow me so we can be friends <3 (and drink mate together)

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nor-ay · 4 months ago

Text

Unrequited Love - Part Two

Pure Vanilla Cookie has always had more questions than answers. No matter how hard he tries, once he finds an answer, another doubt will surface in his mind. And that usually motivates him to keep going, but right now he isn’t sure if you want to answer his questions.

He has noticed how your mind has been wandering somewhere far away from them, from him. The way you don’t look at White Lily Cookie in the eye and seem to avoid eye contact with him as much as possible. Pure Vanilla reasons that you are upset; that much is known.

GingerBrave is worried about you; he told him how he found you troubled in the middle of the night. And he told him to keep this to himself to not worry everyone else, reassuring him that he would talk to you. But a part of him is a bit reluctant to do so, especially now that you’re all going to The Spire Of All Knowledge, to annoy you even more.

…

Apple Fairy Cookie has kindly led you all to an inn in the middle of the woods. She doesn’t give you a good feeling, you think. You figure that it’s her high-pitched voice or the way that it’s really obvious how she’s scheming something, and you’re uneasy. So you abruptly get up to go outside, praying that nobody calls you out on it.

“[name] Cookie? Is everything…” White Lily Cookie seems to think for a brief moment. “I mean, are you going somewhere? Would you like company?”

You appreciate the effort she puts into trying to act as if you’re friends. And that, strangely enough, makes you a bit more frustrated, so you hide your hands behind you and feel how your fingernails dig into your palms. “I’ll be just outside; please don’t worry, and… I—I don’t need company.” So you get out of the inn and walk for a bit, not too far away, but far enough so that you’re alone.

Fresh air always calms you down, so you sit down on the floor and close your eyes while hugging your knees, to comfort yourself for a while. A minute or two passes, and you feel something poking at your leg. Startled, you speak before comprehending that facing you is not a Cookie but a cute blue rag doll. “What do you—who? Uh…” You’re not sure of what to do, and before you can question its provenance, its little hands offer you an alluring and stunning gem hair clip—blue as well. You notice how the doll has a ringmaster suit and a jester hat that reminds you of him.

“Oh my…Is this for me?” The little doll nods profusely. “… Thank you, but… I don’t have anything I can give you in return, you know that, right?” It doesn’t seem to matter because the blue rag doll puts the hair clip in your hands and bows dramatically like a host of some sort before disappearing.

“…”

“[Name] Cookie!!” You hear your name being called, and GingerBrave is happily waving at you. “Come on, we’re going to the tower! Time for an adventure.” A smile makes its way into your face, and it feels the most genuine for the first time in a long time. As you walk towards the group, you put on the beautiful hair clip. Not realizing who could have made it reach you, or rather, not caring anymore.

Apple Faerie Cookie squeals when she sees the ornament placed on your hair. “So pretty!! How did you get it, [Name] Cookie?”

“Oh, this? A kind villager gifted me this hair clip. The nicest Cookie I’ve ever met, I must say.” You lie, and almost miss the smug smirk that appears on Apple Faerie Cookie’s face. “But enough of that! We have a place to explore, isn’t that right, Pure Vanilla Cookie?”

“R-Right, well, shall we get going now?” Pure Vanilla answers, though he seems a bit fixated on the blue gem decorating your hair. In the background, you hear GingerBrave, Strawberry, and Wizard Cookie expressing their eagerness to learn as much as possible.

While you all continue on the path that Apple Faerie Cookie leads, a feeling of contentment fills your heart, and you find yourself waiting for something to happen. All while White Lily Cookie observes how the ornament on your head starts shining even more brightly every time you all get closer to the tower.

Thank you all for reading!! And for the support on my first fic ever. I’ve written this inspired by the last episode of Beast-Yeast, so if you want to understand this a bit better you should play it! So, there won't be a part 3 but I do have some ideas for some drabbles.

Chapter 3 - Part 1

#shadow milk cookie x reader #no use of y/n #crk x you #crk x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk x reader #unrequited love story

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revelboo · 4 months ago

Note

Hope you don't mind me asking, but which Transformers do you think would have a breeding kink?

Sure! Here’s some new ones

Headcanons and Scenarios- breeding kinks

18+ Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Swerve

- absolute, babbling mess during sex, going on about sparking you with his sparklings even though you have no idea what he’s talking about

• “Oh, Primus,” Swerve groans, hips lifting to meet you as you ride his spike. He’s watching you, mouth parted as his hands slide up your sides. “Wanna spark you. Can I spark you? Primus, please.” Have no idea what he’s talking about as you move on him, feeling that thick spike slide deep, every ridge and bump stroking inside you. But he’s too cute absolutely out of control and babbling, making you want to agree to whatever as long as he keeps rolling his hips like that to meet you when you lower yourself.

• “Give it to me,” you whisper, voice breathy and he almost releases right then. Hears you gasp as he rolls you under him, hips moving frantically. Rutting against you with frantic movements.

ES Soundwave

- even after he warms up to you, he still snarls at you like a wild animal, especially during sex. Would rather offline than admit that he fantasizes about sparking you

• Gasping when his servos close around your upper arm and you go up on tiptoe, glaring up at him as he snarls. Know not to pick at the temperamental mech, but when the repercussions are this good? You can’t help yourself. Chin lifting, you grin at him. “Make me.” And you don’t even mind when you end up stripped and bent over the nearest convenient surface, his spike pounding into you. Angry fucking seems to be his only mode, but damn.

• Hips snapping against you as his spike drives deep into that slick heat of yours, he knows there’s something really wrong with him for wanting this. Wanting you. Can’t even say it’s about having power over you anymore, when he’s the one addicted to the feel of you gripping his spike like you were made just for him. And he also knows that you’re provoking him on purpose, wanting him angry and almost too rough, so there’s something equally wrong with you. Listening to your breathless moans and cries, he tries not to think about sparking you, but it’s harder every time. Shouldn’t want you sparked, definitely shouldn’t fantasize about it.

Krok

- allows himself to fantasize about it, but knows sparking you probably isn’t possible, and even if it was, with the life they lead it would be too dangerous.

• Lazily thrusting inside you as your arms loop around his neck, he just wants to savor the rare moment of peace. Nobody bothering him, had caught you alone so he doesn’t need to share. Lips brushing yours, your breath is warm on him, mingling with his rough venting. And the urge lifts through him to spark you. Pushing it down like he does every single time, because their lives are too dangerous for a sparkling. Can’t ask you for that, but he can dream. Hips moving faster to make you gasp, thrusts growing rougher, more urgent. Wanting to fill you over and over.

Waspinator

- desperately wants a home, to belong and dreams of sparklings with you.

• Glossa sliding against you, he can’t help his rumbling, buzzing growl as the taste of you, the scent of your heat and need become everything. Mandibles brushing your inner thighs as you arch and come apart, he goes up on his knees over you, forcing you to release his antenna, flipping you onto your belly and hooking the extra limbs from his alt mode under your hips to tug them up. He’s aching, almost hurting as he lines his spike up and feels you stretch to take him. Clawed servos digging into your bedding as he begins to move, hips snapping urgently against you. Finally. Finally accepting him as your mate and all he can think of is breeding you. Claiming you so thoroughly, you won’t leave him ever.

ES Megatron

- feels guilty for wanting to breed you, like he doesn’t deserve to be allowed this, but can’t stop himself either

• Frame straining on a rough snarl, his hips pump against you. Letting you milk him of his release as his lips brush the back of your neck. Draped against your back, it’s his arm and his cannon hooked under you keeping your hips up for him. “I can’t, please,” you protest when he shudders and begins rocking himself against you again. Taking his time coaxing your tired body. Knows he should let you rest instead of wanting to fill you again. Already made a mess, his excess slicking your thighs, but can’t seem to stop. Driven to give you everything, to breed you.

• “One more, just one more,” he growls against your nape, hips bucking faster, each thrust rocking you forward against his arm curled under you. Trembling on a breathy moan, you feel your oversensitive body coiling again, betraying you. Know you’re probably not going to be able to walk later, but that he’ll fuss over you after, take care of you. He always does.

TFP Ratchet

- when he’s dabbling with synth-energon, all impulse control goes out the window. Can’t resist trying to spark you.

• Legs hooked around his waist as he ruts against you, watching him bare his denta, you know he’s going to be annoyed later about the mess you’re both making on his console. But he’s the one who’d plopped you on it so you’d be at the perfect height for him, easy access. Optics green with that stuff, you just go along for the ride and enjoy the feel of his spike pounding into you almost too roughly.

• Groaning as he moves against you, driving deep into your heat, you’re so slick for him. Heels digging into him as if demanding he not stop until you’re sparked. And his mouth crashes against yours, servos tangling in your hair as that thought takes root. Fragging you all night long until his nanites can get established, then sparking you. He’s not even sure if it can work between yours species, but he wants to find out. Even if he has to try over and over again.

Armada Starscream

- it’s a guilty fascination with him. He’s seen how you fuss over his mini-cons like they’re your sparklings even if they’re bigger than you and he keeps imagining you with his sparklings.

• Mouth brushing along your jaw, back behind your ear as he groans at the feel of those little hands clinging to him, your wet, heat fists his spike as you arch on a ragged cry. Thrusts faltering slightly, he rocks his hips urgently until he comes apart, filling you. Brushing his cheek against yours, as you hold onto him. And from out of nowhere, he thinks about sparklings. Wondering about young when he’s never allowed himself to even consider that as a possibility. Because he’s remembering how you treat his mini-cons and imagining you with his sparklings instead. Whole frame shuddering as he releases inside you again, wings flaring.

• Hands sliding against his wings as he rocks himself against you, mouthing your throat. Still hard and apparently ready for another round as he begins to move faster, hips snapping against yours.

Bonecrusher

- unfortunately for his brothers, the first time they form Devastator while Bonecrusher is obsessing about breeding you, it unlocks the same kink in the rest of them because of how the gestalt works

• “Primus,” Hook snarls, tempted to shove the biggest of his brothers, but knowing that he’ll get punched in the face for it. Because Bonecrusher had been fantasizing of fragging and breeding you, trying to imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his spike. And when they’d combined, those graphic urges and fantasies had spilled into him. Into all of them.

• Hand over his face, Scrapper vents and tries to ignore that his spike is throbbing painfully where it’s trapped behind his plating. Can hear Long Haul and Scavenger speculating on if you’d survive one of them, much less all of them. Remembering Megatron’s warning about fragging humans. Because someone has to be doing it to have warranted that. And Bonecrusher is completely unapologetic about what’s he’s just inflicted on them. “Bet they’re soft inside, too,” Bonecrusher says as Scrapper groans. The big idiot deals with explosives, and he doesn’t understand that he just set a bomb ticking.

Kup

- knows he made quite a few mistakes raising Springer, that he was much too hard on the kid and wants a second chance at a sparkling with you

• You’re smiling up at Ricochet and Springer, little hands folded behind your back as you rock up on tiptoe. Can hear Ricochet flirting and joking with you, and of course you’re smiling. He’s a young mech. Most of the Wreckers are. The young, brave, and reckless. Knows he shouldn’t be bothered that you like the attention, that you’re not his. But he’s the one you run to when there’s danger, the one you trust. Because you have no idea that when you sprawl on him, leaching his heat at night, he’s thinking about rolling you under him. Exploring you with his hands and mouth. He’s old, but he’s not offline, yet. Can’t help but wonder about you, fantasize about claiming and breeding you. At having another chance at being a sire and doing better this time. Try to be gentler, less rough around the edges.

Breakdown

- would rather offline than admit that he wants to spark up Knockout’s little shared human.

• Resting his palm between your shoulders to bend you forward, for a moment he’s off balance at how big his hand is on you, just like how unbelievably tight you are wrapped around his spike. Always making him release quicker than he means to, but it’s easier with Knockout helping. On his knees behind you, he grips your hips, lines himself up and sheaths his spike inside you. Shuddering when you make that soft noise and quiver around his spike. Then your head is lowering, mouth teasing Knockout’s spike. Hears the other mech growl, servos sliding into your hair and that’s what he focuses on. Not you or that he keeps thinking about sparking you when you’re Knockout’s. Even if they are sharing.

Tailgate

- fantasizes about sparking you, but would be as happy if Cyclonus was the one to get the job done. Would ask Cyclonus to breed you so he can watch

• Mask retracting to brush his mouth against your neck, Tailgate lets his hands wander over soft skin. Spike still hard against your back where he’d tugged you to sprawl against him. And he’s aware of Cyclonus trying to ignore you both, a datapad in his hands. That the bigger mech is failing terribly as his hand slides to your thigh and hooks it over his own so you’re spread open to him. Watching Cyclonus, he slides his servos against your slick flesh, dipping his servos inside you to push his excess back where it belongs. Wants Cyclonus to take a turn, for their nanites and release to mingle inside you. “Cyclonus,” he whines, lazily pumping his servos. “We need you.” Wants to feel Cyclonus thrusting against you while you’re laying on him. Trapped between them both as Cyclonus breeds you. Wondering what would happen if they both tried to spark you at the same time.

#transformers x reader #swerve x reader #kup x reader #starscream x reader #constructicons x reader #waspinator x reader #megatron x reader #breakdown x reader #tailgate x reader #soundwave x reader

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moonlight-records · 6 months ago

Text

Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts I LN4 (Pt. II)

pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader

summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.

warning: jealous!lando. also possessive lando again, ig. bestie!charles, MESSY!FRANCO!!! god it becomes SO messy!!! franco is so smooth too. mention of make out. mention of eating out & fingering (f receiving). um idk after, kinda dying like ferrari's strategy by not having it beta read

fc: none!

a/n: since everyone is asking!!! here’s a new part!!! also once again, i opened a ko-fi! feel free to show extra love 💕

wc: 4.5K

part 1 | current | part 3 | part 4

“Has Lando’s attitude gotten any better since last week?”

“No.”

“Ha! Well, surely he’s been a bit better at practices, no?”

“That, he has. I think it’s because Max snapped at him and the coach backed Max up. Though he still gives me dirty glares during practice when he’s not speaking to me.” Charles shrugs, “though I am unbothered. I wasn’t the one who tried to bribe someone out of this school for people who don’t actually truly like me. Still baffles me that he did that considering how half the school talks poorly about him behind his back. Some are not as subtle as others.”

“Well, everyone has their reasons. Maybe he was more so worried about his friends. Max, Oscar, you—”

“I don't know if I would qualify as a friend anymore.”

“I would consider you a friend if I was Lando,” you admit with a small smile, “friends fight. That’s just the nature of any relationship, romantic or not. I bet he’ll let it go and muster up some apology for being such a dick to you.”

“And you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Lando apologize to me? My dear friend, are you sure you don’t smoke anything? Because that sounds like straight delusion. Did you find the delusion at the store? If so, did you get extra because I would love some.” You remark.

“Y/N. I’m serious here.”

“So am I, Charlie. Lando is never going to apologize to me for the shit he tried to pull on me last week.” You lean forward in your seat while making a face at the thought of Lando actually apologizing to you, “Him apologizing means that he was wrong and him admitting that he’s wrong is like hell freezing over or God admitting he was wrong to cast Lucifer out of heaven or like a guy actually knowing where the clit is or—”

“Y/N!” Charles almost shrieks before shuffling closer and murmuring, “you cannot just say things like that! You know how they are about language—”

“Oh bite me.” You groan softly while looking at Charles unimpressed, “The FIA only made that rule because Max was stupid enough to curse at his advisor. Though Marko totally deserved it, if you ask me. Besides.” You take a chance to look on either side of you before looking back at Charles, “we’re the only two here so I doubt anybody heard me. If they did, I think a lot of the girls would be agreeing with my statement and if it was faculty, I will happily take my community service hours because I am not apologizing for telling the truth.” You lean back in your seat with a shrug.

You watch Charles open and close his mouth as he tries to think of something to say and him growing increasingly frustrated because he really had nothing to say besides ‘you’re right, y/n’. You giggle seeing Charles huff and lean back in his chair, grumbling that “ you have some fair points.” You just nod before looking back down at all your notebook. You take a moment before tipping your laptop screen back as you go back to rewriting your notes as silence falls over you and Charles.

“I’ll be right back.” You tear your gaze away from your laptop looking at Charles who is gently pushing his books and laptop back onto the table. “I promised Arthur I would help him with piano and I have to meet him in ten minutes. I’ll be back soon,” Charles is rapidly telling you as he grabs his coat, hastily walking away. You stare, mouth a bit open before just accepting your fate and turning back around. Whatever, it’s fine.

You start finding your groove again as you see just a flash of color across from you. Still, you didn’t even acknowledge the other as you continued to take these notes down. You take a few more minutes to get through the section and let out a sigh of relief. That was one out of four, anyway. Leaning back, you rub your eyes and decide you can take a five minute break. Dropping your hands, you expect to see Charles sitting across from you once again. Instead, someone else sat in Charles' seat.

The universe just loves to test your patience. It has barely been a week since the incident with Lando that you had swore you were done. No more curly hair, greenish eyes, stupid contagious smile, friendly heartthrobs in your life. It was so oddly specific that you were certain the universe would listen but instead the universe decided to test you if you were really done since you now have curly hair, hazel green eyes, stupidly friendly and contagious smile sitting right across from you who was watching you with a gentle smile.

“Franco?”

“Y/N. There you are.” Franco leans forward and puts his elbows on the table, “Leave it to you to find the coolest hidden spot in the library.” He leans over to look at your laptop and then sits back down. “Are you rewriting notes? Gross. I am very sure you have an uh…” he pauses, “photographic memory. That is the word. You already know the things, please put the notes down and have social interactions?”

“Oh why thank you for thinking I have a photographic memory but I do in fact study a lot.” You giggle and feel a blush creep onto your face at the compliment. “I am having social interaction. Am I not talking to you?” You raise a brow at him smiling. “I can talk to you while rewriting my notes, you know.”

“Yes but I do not want you to do that but that means I only have half your attention,” Franco complains as he gently closes your laptop screen shut and grabs your hands. You look at Franco and feel your face turn as red as the school’s hoodie while looking at the other, “and that just will not do.” Franco brings your hand to cup his cheek while looking at you, “you’re always taking notes and talking. I want one hundred percent of your time. Just this once, please?”

You were not the universe’s strongest warrior. The way that Franco looked at you with those wide eyes and small pout. You had found yourself letting your resolve melt quickly as you gently shut your laptop, elbow on the table while resting your cheek against your palm. “Yeah,” you find yourself saying while smiling dreamily at your fellow classmate, “I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” Franco praises as he leans back slightly. “Now, where were we last time we talked?” Franco thinks trying to recall, “I think we were talking about Hamilton—”

“And Toto,” you add on with a grin.

“Right, right,” Franco nods while glancing around before leaning in slightly. “I’m going fucking insane. They have Hamilton coming in as the guest designer for the fashion students this year and they moved the fashion kids into the arts building after that fire. Which means,” Franco grumbles, “I have the fortunate bad luck of seeing Lewis four times a week almost all day.”

“Why is that bad? He’s like your biggest celebrity crush.”

“That’s the thing!” Franco hisses, “He’s a celebrity crush. A crush that was never to see my existence or anything. Now instead of kilometers separating us, it’s just one floor! You think a man that is perfect should be looking at someone like me?” Franco looks at you, horrified, “Y/N. Please. I’ve never been so stressed over my looks before going to class. I don’t know how much longer my fragile heart can take seeing Lewis in all his glorious outfits with all those lovely rings…and tattoos…and stay sane.” Franco drops his head in defeat before looking back up at you. “Well, what about you? How’s your celebrity crush on Toto?”

You sigh and look away defeated. “Sadly, he is no longer a celebrity crush. He’s…” You cover your mouth as you take a moment. You close your eyes before taking a deep breath in and out. “Toto Wolff is…off the roster,” you whisper dramatically while looking at Franco. Franco gasps loudly, covering his mouth.

“What?! Say it ain’t so! Toto Wolff has been on the roster since the day we created the rosters,” Franco stares in disbelief, “What happened? What did he do that was so…dirty that you had to take him off the roster completely.

You stare at Franco before looking away, shaking your head slightly. “He did the one thing that I was terrified of. The only thing that would have me kick a man such as Toto Wolff off the damn roster…he became a full time professor here.” You finally admit, covering your mouth again in disbelief that your worst nightmare came true. You hear Franco gasp again and you nod, “I know. It’s such a sad day. We lost one of our strongest.”

“Here lies Toto Wolff. That man saw the rise of your beautifully curated roster. A moment of silence for our beloved.” Franco whispers as he sits there with you. You two glance at each other and you two break out into laughter. You both lean in, giggling while trying to hush the other so you two don’t get in trouble for being so loud. “Though seriously, he became a full time professor here? Good for him but that truly is a shame. We got new eye candy but at what cost?”

“I know! But hey, at least his teaching style is unique so at least I am very engaged which is really a good thing plus him looking as hot as he does since he’s a psychopath. Who the hell has classes at eight in the morning? I can’t even be happy that it’s once a week because it’s a three hour class that starts promptly at eight in the morning on Monday. Maybe it is a good thing Toto became a professor because this is too much.”

Franco’s been laughing silently the entire time, silently getting more dramatic as you spoke so he wouldn’t scream in the middle of the library. You watch him for a moment before laughing as well, grabbing onto his arms as the two of you laugh.

You two calm down and lean back as someone clears their throat. The two of you look up and your face falls to horror when cold stormy green eyes land on you. You shift uncomfortably as you become defensive. Shoulder a bit further back. Back a bit straighter. Chin a bit higher. You force a smile at the British student while trying to explode him with your mind.

“Y/N.” Lando remarks while looking down at you with pure raging dislike, “Funny seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Ha.” Lando looks at Franco and relaxes slightly. “Dude. Come on. I’ve been looking for you for the past ten minutes, we have to grab Oscar before meeting up with Max and Carlos soon. I really don’t need Carlos getting on me for being late.”

“Oh sorry. I just got so distracted.” Franco tells Lando and stands.

“What were you even doing? Speaking to Y/N?” You glare at Lando. Franco is way too sweet to be dragged into your bullshit with Lando before looking back at Franco. It seems that the Brit has a soft spot for your fellow freshman or something because Lando clears his throat before he keeps speaking, “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. Didn’t mean to sound so rude…sorry.”

Holy shit. Did hell finally freeze over? Maybe it’s pigs flying. Or he’s finally getting laid. It really doesn’t matter the reason why right now because you were still in disbelief that Lando apologized. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Lando apologized in general but apologizing because of the rude tone he had when speaking about you? Did you end up in the Twilight Zone? No no this must be a joke. Okay, cut the cameras. Seriously the cameras can STOP rolling.

“Oh of course I know Y/N! We’re in the same graduating class and we have a few gen eds together. It’s just hard given our schedules but,” Franco grins, “We make it work. Though! Before I leave I actually want to know if you’d be interested in grabbing lunch with me tomorrow” Franco announces as he looks at you, smiling, “could be a date if you want?”

Suddenly the world just freezes and you’re stuck at the library table staring in complete shock at the turn of the events. You hadn’t even told Franco about Lando, not having the heart for his poor heart to be crushed by how Lando could be so nasty. Still, you’re trying to figure out how the hell this conversation got onto the topic of Franco asking you out on a date.

In the heat of the moment, you can’t help but turn to look at Lando as if he heard Franco correctly. Maybe you’ve just fallen asleep and this is some weird dream or something. You come to the shocking yet unsuspecting realization that this is not a dream when Lando meets your gaze having the same idea. You both look back at Franco in a state of shock and confusion. “A date?” You and Lando ask in union.

“Yes.” Franco laughs and smiles widely at you and Lando before looking back at you, “well? Would you like to get lunch with me? As a date?”

“Yes.” You smile while nodding, “I would love to get lunch with you as a date.”

You stare at Franco with a stupid smile. You hadn’t expected this was how your evening would go but you were more than happy about it. You were so happy, that Lando’s look of shock turned to disgust didn’t even phase you. Finally, you’re crashing back to reality when Lando annoyingly clears his throat while looking down at the two of you. “Well, lovebirds,” Lando forces a smile but you can feel the burn his venomous words carry, “sorry to cut the moment short but we really have to leave now, Franco.” Lando manages through gritted teeth.

“Right! Sorry again.” Franco gathers his things and looks at you, “I’ll text you later. Bye Y/N,” Franco waves before Lando sends him off, telling him he’ll be right out.

You watch Franco go off and sigh dreamily. You glance away for a moment before doing a double take. Your smile morphs into a scowl while looking at Lando who—hasn’t moved yet. Looking him up and down, you raise a brow. “Can I help you?”

“Why did you say yes to Franco?”

“You really think you’re entitled to that after the shit you pulled last week?” You raise a brow while clicking your tongue, “besides. Why do you even care?”

“Because Franco’s a freshman and I don’t need him distracted,” Lando snaps and you roll your eyes. Here he goes again about distractions and shit. Lando glances away and huffs. “Also because he’s a bit of a player.”

“Takes one to know one, yeah?”

Lando glares at you and sneers slightly. “So what? I wouldn’t want him wasting any of his time on you.”

“Why?”

“You’d probably bore him to death.” Looking down at you as Lando gives it a beat. “Also I doubt you’d know how to get him off for your first time. Hell, I don’t think you’d know how to get anybody off. Not even yourself.” Giving you a condescending smile, “I would hate for him to be a part of your body count.”

“Oh.” You laugh slightly, “That’s adorable. Well. You know what? I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Lando’s a bit taken aback. “I—what?”

“You know. I’ve been doing some thinking. I think we didn’t quite see eye-to-eye.” You continue as you pack your things. “Which isn’t really fair because you were truly just looking out for your friends. Like you’re doing right now.” Standing straight, “which I just wanna say is the sweetest thing ever so. I want to thank you and I’ve figured out the best way to do that.”

“…Which is…?” Lando leans in slightly, waiting for your answer.

“Which is…letting you know in great detail not only how good Franco’s gonna fuck me this weekend but you’ll also have to listen how Franco’s not going to want anybody else when I’m done with him.” You feign innocence to Lando as you sling your backpack over your shoulders before walking away.

“Now, don’t you move a single muscle,” Franco kisses your forehead with a smile “You just focus on resting and I’ll handle everything for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good girl.” Franco winks before leaving your dorm.

You lay in your bed staring where Franco had just left before rolling over, grunting as your legs failed to work with you. Fumbling around the messy sheets and pillows till you find your phone and immediately open the texts messages because you had to tell someone about the date you just had:

A MINX. HE’S A MINX I TELL YOU. - YN

WHO? WHAT? THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??? - CL

FRANCO. FRANCO IS NOTHING MORE THAN A MINX!!!!-YN

??????-CL

So Franco asked me out on a date for lunch today—YN

HE WHAT?! WHEN?-YN

Yesterday after you disappeared. He showed up and Lando came looking for him.-YN

LANDO? WHAT? Oh my god was he nasty to you? I’ll hurt him istg-CL

No. No he was…civil. Or civilish while Franco was around. But anyway, yeah Lando was asking like why Franco was talking to me cause we don’t really talk and like they had to go to Max’s place and Franco was like “oh we’re in the same graduating class” and stuff but before he left he was like “oh do you wanna get lunch with me tomorrow as a date?'“-YN

And I was gagged! I thought it heard it wrong so I looked at Lando who was LOOKING AT ME THE SAME WAY so we realize oh this is real. This is happening and Franco wants to grab lunch with me like a date. So I say yes, obviously.-YN

IN FRONT OF LANDO!?-CL

Yeah cause fuck him!!! If my happiness is his kryptonite to having a good day, then so fucking be it. But wait!! There’s more!-YN

TELL ME! TELL ME!-CL

So Lando hangs behind and Franco leaves. Then Lando looks at me all like “why’d you say yes?” Bitch what do you mean???-YN

Oh my god, he did not!!-CL

He totally did!!!-YN

Ew. Why does it have a jealous undertone?? possessiveness???-CL

It’s giving ‘you belong to me’ or like ‘nobody else can have you because I want you’ like some dark romance MMC. This is not a bully romance with a mafia subplot or some shit!!-YN

PREACH 👏👏👏. So what happened after?!-CL

Oh so I was like “i’m not telling you after the shit you pulled last week” and asking why he cares and he’s going on about how Franco’s a freshman and he can’t get distracted and how he’s a bit of a player, which he isn’t he’s just kind of a himbo, and I was like “oh takes one to know one, yeah?”-YN

YOU DID NOT. SHUT UP OH Y/N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH-CL

I did and that pissed Lando off. He starts going on about how I don’t know how to get anybody off and I’d bore Franco to death and how he would never want Franco a part of my body count. First off I got three bodies and I have pleased all three, thank you very much but also like fuck Lando!! His opinion? Doesn’t matter!! So I started bout how ‘oh we got off on the wrong foot’ and ‘you’re right’ to throw him for a loop before I told him I wanted to ‘thank him’ for ‘opening my eyes’ and his thank you is listening, in great detail, to Franco fuck me this entire weekend and then listening to Franco wanting nobody else 💋-YN

YNNNN!!! OH MY GOOOOOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! Ugh yes that’s some queen shit. Though how does that tie into Franco being a minx??-CL

BECAUSE. It’s Friday. He has no classes. Mine got canceled so I decided, oh why don’t we stay in today, right? soooo like, we go to the cafe, i get food (that Franco paid for) cause he’s not hungry right now which is whatever, and then we head back to my dorm. We’re watching tv, we’re talking, and I finish eating. It’s great, right??-YN

Yes, correct.-CL

So as I’m talking, I start talking about Lando. Franco’s apologizing, I’m telling him he shouldn’t be apologizing. He’s asking if he should stop hanging out with Lando and you know me. I’m not gonna police people on their friends so I told him no. As long as he holds Lando accountable, then I don’t care. If Franco wants to drop Lando that’s his own doing.-YN

Anyway, we keep talking and laughing. We’re getting closer. And then…you know-YN

…What happened? 👀👀-CL

We start kissing. Then it turns into a lazy makeout. Hands start wandering, nothing real scandalous ya know?-YN

Uh huh…-CL

Then this mf pulls away and is like “Oh, I’m real hungry”-YN

FRANCO!!! WTFF!!!!-CL

OH WAIT!! Cause that’s what I thought. I was like “Oh really? Like now? I mean I guess we can go back to the cafe.” Meanwhile he’s actively getting off the bed. Then Franco pulls me by my ankles to the edge of the bed. so i'm thinking he’s really hungry so I go to sit up and he pushes me back down talking bout some “where’re you going mami?”-YN

SIR?? EXCUSE ME??? I can hear the accent now, oh my god that’s—wow-CL

OH BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE!!!-YN

So first, don’t be calling me mami unless you plan on making me an actual mom. Second, I’m looking at him confused like “you said you were hungry” and he’s like “yeah?” and I was like “Oh I’m sorry, I just thought you’d want me to join you going to the cafe to get lunch” and he’s looking at me like I got ten heads before going like “the cafe? Why would we go to the cafe?” He’s actively like leaning over me while holding my thighs and slowly pushing them opening talking bout “I don’t need the cafe when I got a full five meal course right here sprawled out in front of me.”-YN

FRANCO!?! OH MY GOD—I have to fan myself. Wow that was—🥵🥵🥵🥵-CL

RIGHT?!?!-YN

WELL??-CL

…Charles when I tell you. I do not believe in god but I am pretty sure I was knocking on his door. Two hours. I was seeing god for TWO HOURS!!! Charles when I tell you that man had me screaming crying throwing up I MEAN IT. Charles, I'm still in bed. My legs are still shaking. I can’t feel them.-YN

What I wouldn’t give to be sucked off like that—CL

But wait. There’s a cherry on top of all of this.-YN

WHAT COULD TOP THIS?-CL

Franco really had to make sure everyone knew what was happening. I mean, he’s on his knee with my hips hanging off. He’s got one hand gripping my ass like it’s his lifeline to this world. He’s between my thighs and eating me out like he is a man up next on death row and I am his final fucking meal. He pushed all the pillows away. Got my wrists pinned to my stomach with his other hand. I am solely at his mercy and I cannot keep quiet for the life of me and he ate it up. I was so loud, I heard banging from upstairs.-YN

Banging?-CL

Yeah. Like someone was hitting a broom against the floor. To signal to shut up, which Franco and I ignored. More Franco than me, I couldn’t see straight and that was an hour in. Do you know, what the banging was though???-YN

A disgruntled upstairs neighbor???-CL

Yeah. Do you remember who my upstairs neighbor is?-YN

…OH MY FUCKING GOD, LANDO LISTENED TO YOU GETTING THE BEST HEAD OF YOUR LIFE?-CL

Yes SIIIIIIIIRRRRRR. Dude Lando got so mad he CALLED Franco in the middle of it and he answered.-YN

HE ANSWERED?!-CL

Yes. He answered. Pulls back enough to start fingering me and hands be a pillow telling me to bite down on it which I do without a second fucking thought. But tell me why Franco put Lando on speaker and Lando asking “what are you doing right now??” and Franco looks me dead in the fucking eyes going on bout “Oh I’m just having lunch right now with Y/N.” and Lando’s like “oh yeah? Is that so? Then why the fuck is she screaming so god damn loud? Huh? Thought it was a lunch date?” and Charles. I shit you the fuck NOT, Franco without missing a beat goes, “It is. She’s my lunch and my mother always told me to finish everything on my plate and I plan to do just that.” THEN HUNG UP THE PHONE AND WENT RIGHT BACK TO EATING ME OUT.-YN

Y/N…you are the luckiest bitch around. Holy fucking shit. I need a man like Franco—do we know if Franco swings both ways??-CL

He does. Though you might not like him. He’s got a huge crush on Lewis—YN

Never mind. You keep Franco. Gives me an easier chance to steal Lewis' heart. Or just get one chance with him.-CL

I think you can do it. I believe. Anyway, yeah so that happened and—YN

You accidentally send your message to Charles early when a new text comes through. It’s by an unknown number and you click on it.

Lacrosse field. 8pm. We need to talk.-Unk

You think for a moment trying to figure out who this could be. No names come to your mind so you think that someone texted the wrong number. Typically, you’d leave unknown numbers alone but you got the impression that this was something important and urgent that you respond.

Oh I’m sorry, you have the wrong number-YN

I don’t-Unk

Excuse me?-YN

You look up hearing the familiar broom hitting against the floor. You scowl at Lando and his antics before looking back at your phone. Huh. That was…too coincidental. You lay there for a moment before the banging came again, this time a bit more urgent. You send your message before realizing it.

Lando?-YN

The banging stops. Suddenly, your dorm is eerily quiet and you hold your breath. You watch the familiar three bubbles appear and disappear before appearing again as your heart sinks.

Bingo. 8pm. Tonight. Lacrosse field. Alone.-LN

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 2 months ago

Text

Allure

Part Three: Smoke

❥ Park Seonghwa x fem reader x Kim Hongjoong

Part One & Part Two

➯a/n: YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BEOOOOTCHESSS ITS HERE HOLD ONTO YOUR PANTIES. finally finally finally!! im so glad i got to write this, and if there's enough demand i'll spoil yall with pure smut of these three emotional wrecks 😎

✃ "This is home."

♫ "I don't smoke except for when I'm missing you." -Smoke, Mitski ♫ Allure Soundtrack ♫

✫彡wordcount: 13k (whoops)

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, yandere, a/b/o

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: i regret nothing GENERAL: alpha MATZ/omega reader, pack dynamics, family trouble, angst, heat induced illness, shmoking shweed 🍃, worshipping the moon, general werewolf things, briefly proof-read. SMUT: highlights include; hella dirty talk, heats and ruts, fingering, threesome, emotional sex, like seriously emotional on a soul level

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

ALLURE ⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky @choichaeyiul @cheynalexilaiho @haven-cove @hwasbabygirl @gong-fourz @chaoticfloral @hyukssunflower @unlikelysublimekryptonite @tinybada

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART THREE ˚➶ ｡˚

"You shouldn't smoke, y'know?"

The words slip up your throat and past your lips before you can stop them. That seems to be a common reoccurrence with your body now adjusting to having your blocker ripped out. You're starting to be less surprised with the thoughts that tumble out without your consent, but you still look a little shocked as you speak so plainly to the alpha.

"Sorry," you mumble, averting your eyes as Seonghwa looks directly at you while nursing the joint between his fingers.

"Why's that?" He asks tartly, a puff of the smoke rising into the air. It dances around his head as it slowly dissipates.

On the side of the road, you're sat on the edge of the concrete- with Seonghwa standing like a guard tower next to you. The van is just a few long strides away, and you can hear the chatter as San and Wooyoung fight about how to correctly change a tire.

"It's bad for you," you state simply, "for your lungs."

"I'm fine," he dismisses quickly, taking another long puff. "I'm a big bad wolf."

You huff out a laugh at his deadpan voice: so flat that you almost think he's serious, but when you look up at him you find a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, okay, talk to me when you're coughing up a lung," you joke as you go back to facing the field, locking your gaze as you feel him move to sit next to you.

His legs sprawl out further than yours into the grass as he mirrors your position, leaning his weight back on his hands and looking at the vibrant summer colors.

"Can I ask you somethin', Omega?"

You hate the way your wolf prances in joy when he calls you by your status. Nobody ever does that anymore, only to Alphas to show respect. "Sure?"

"Tell me about your past packs. I want to know everything."

He doesn't say it like a question, but he doesn't use his commanding voice. It's a small gesture, really it's the bare minimum not to force you to tell your story, but you're still grateful for the opportunity to think it over before you open your mouth.

You don't do so for a few slow moments, but when you do, you tell the truth to him. "I hated them, mostly."

That seems to peek his interest, he draws in his legs and rests his arms on his knees as he leans towards you, flicking his joint to the road before his eyes become unblinking even though you never meet his stare.

"In my born pack, I never felt like I fit in. I was the first Omega born in a while, the only one there even. They didn't bother to teach me about anything. How to nest, hunt, none of that. I wasn't involved in rituals or even taken to The Thing. My mom was okay, I guess. She loved me, but I guess not as much as she would have loved me if I were a different status... cause when I turned eighteen they threw me to the curb."

You still remember it clearly, the look of disgust on your older sister's face as she finally got to tell you how disappointing you were to the family of strong Beta's.

"But my last pack... I was a lot happier. Alpha Fairchild was very sweet. He took me in under his wing when he found me. He and his wife taught me how to nest, how to control my fangs and claws, how to present if I ever got a mate, stuff I should've know all along... There were other Omegas there but still, we were a little, uh, different I guess, from the rest of the pack. They didn't let us do rituals, but I did start going to The Thing every year with the Fairchilds."

He watches, owl-eyed, as you speak softly, committing every word to memory as he absorbs them.

"But-" You clear your throat before you can get choked up on your emotions, "they passed a couple years ago. A rouge broke out of the prison and decided that I'd be a good snack. My Alpha fought him but... but age was catching up to him, he wasn't as fast as he used to be."

His wolf whines internally as he sees a tear roll down your cheek, deep regret settling in his bones as he remembers how they mocked your late Alpha.

"His wife got sick when their bond was broken, and she never recovered. Told me I should lead the pack in their absence, but honestly she had a fever so high it could have touched the moon."

The silence between you is only broken by the far off voices of his pack.

That is, until he speaks. "You'll be a great leader."

"Yeah, right-"

"I'm serious."

You finally meet his gaze, and you can see the sincerity swirling in the dark brown of his eyes. "You will be a great addition to this pack. Selene knows what she's doing, doesn't she? Every member of this pack is a leader in their own right, and you're no different, Omega. By our side, you could rule the world if you wanted to..."

He cups your cheek with all the gentleness in his heart, thumb stroking your cheek bone as he continues, "you're already feeling it, aren't you? I saw the dents in your tub, no little Omega on blockers could cause damage like that." Your heart skips a beat as his hand trails down slowly, tracing his bite with the pad of his index finger. "Mind, body, soul, and wolf... I can feel you, just like I feel Joong. Can't you feel us?"

You can't believe your eyes as you see the first born Alpha tearing up, caressing your neck like you're a piece of ancient fine china that will shatter at the slightest bit of pressure.

"Can't you feel me?"

The sounds of the others become muffled to you as he rests his forehead against yours, a tender gesture that makes your wolf melt into his.

"We are what we are. Why do you fight it, Omega?"

The affectionate bond is broke when someone shouts, making you jump back. "Hey, love birds! We fixed it!" Mingis voice pulls you away from Seonghwa, and you scramble back to the van with a heat on your cheeks and a lot on your mind.

As you climb into the vehicle, you catch a glimpse of the oldest member. Exactly where you left him, unmoving until Hongjoong grabs his shoulder and snaps him from his trance.

He blinks a few quick times, and the tears and tenderness are gone by the time the van lurches to life.

˚➶ ｡˚

The farm house staring back at you is giant. Compared to your house that's a lifetime away, it may as well be a mansion that's been plopped down in the middle of nowhere.

The last few hours of the journey were awkward, more so than before your midnight rendezvous with Hongjoong and your mid-morning conversation with Seonghwa. So, you were grateful to be out of the cage on wheels.

Lia and Wooyoung immediately jump out of the van, running up onto the wrap around porch and into the tall door. San and Mingi follow after, carrying the small amount of bags: all but yours which is clutched to your chest as you gape at the house.

Under pretty much any other circumstances, you'd have been thrilled to start calling this place home. But Seonghwa places his hand on the small of your back, and you're reminded that this will most likely become the house that you're locked in for the foreseeable future; two criminal alphas and their pack along with them, trapping you.

Hongjoong arm finds its way around your shoulders. "Welcome home, Dolly~" He chimes while bending to kiss your head.

"You'll like it here," Seonghwa says in a much more lukewarm tone, "our pack isn't very big, but they'll respect you. You can have free rein of the estate, but if you try to pass the gates, you'll regret it." He moves his hand and grips the side of your head, kissing in a way that's akin to affection, to love. But it's much too forceful and piercing to your soul. Especially paired with his words.

"Alpha!" A deep voice comes barreling towards you, and you look up from the dirt to see the tall figure that accompanies it. "Thank goodness!" He tackles Seonghwa off of you, into a crushing hug. "Thank the moon! I was about to lose my mind," he chuckles, and you almost miss the small, fond smile on the alphas lips as he pats the man's back.

He turns and acknowledges you briefly with a hello and a bow before he gives Hongjoong the same treatment. He doesn't hide his glee like his other half does, he laughs softly and hugs him back just as tightly.

"Holding down the fort for us?" He asks as they release each other.

"Barely," he sighs before turning back to you, holding out his hand. "I'm Yunho, nice to- ow!"

"No touching." The brunette alpha groans, pulling you into his side possessively.

"Oh, of course! Sorry, sorry," he apologizes quickly, and while he's looking at you- it's clear that the apology is to his offended alpha. "Well, it's nice to meet you, we were all thrilled to hear."

"Yeah..." The small pinch on your side courtesy of Seonghwa urges you to continue, "thank you. Nice to meet you too."

"Well, uhm, Yeosang and Jongho are out by Greenes territory doing recon, why don't you both- sorry, you three all come in and get settled."

You're too anxious and swarmed in thoughts to care about what they're talking about, just tightly holding onto your bag as you follow behind Yunho and Hongjoong.

Your body doesn't seem to have trouble going up the stairs and onto the porch, but it halts at the doorway. You search the area visible to you. It's a warm looking home. Inviting. Lived in but not dirty. Decorated tastefully. It looks like a regular farm house. And that makes your stomach hurt, knowing that's far from the truth.

"Let's go, omega. Hot as fuck out here." Seonghwas voice from behind you startles you back to life, and your legs comply as he pushes you into the building gently as he can manage.

The slam of the door makes you flinch, holding your bag tighter to your chest.

When he yells, you twitch away, stumbling further into the home even though it's not directed at you. "Jesus, a man leaves for a few weeks and his house becomes a reck!"

"Sorry, man, we were kinda busy breaking you out from prison," San quips as he passes into the living room to your left.

"Hey, omega!" Hongjoong bounds up to you with his ever present manic glee, grabbing your hand and almost making your drop your only earthly possessions. "I'll show you around!"

The first floor is lively, everyone buzzing with energy from the alphas return. He shows you the day room, with a big colored tv which enamors you for a bit until you're drug to the large kitchen. He tells you that you have full access, but don't try anything dumb with the knives or they'll become off limits. There's a bathroom, a laundry room, and a door that has multiple locks on it. He tells you not to worry about that last one.

The second floor is a little more quiet. You only see Lia in the halls before she disappears into one of the many rooms. He opens up every door while he speaks a name. "Yunho," he explains at the room with a disheveled look, "hm, he needs to pick up before Hwa gets on his ass." The next door reveals a room with a huge bed and nearly nothing else, "Wooyoung." A room with a heavy smell which makes you shiver, "Yeosang," and you make a mental note to avoid that person when you meet them.

The next room makes up for it, the soft and comfortable smell of an omega washing away the fear briefly, "Mingi." The next room,which shocks you because, there's an obvious smell of a female beta, "Sannie and Cheonsa. She's probably outside tending to the animals." The next door is already open, and Lia waves to you. "Lia, as you can see," he waves back and leads you to the last door in the hall, "and her brother, Jongho."

"That's all of us! You'll get used to a full house soon," he grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to the third and final floor. "This one's all us." You know he means you, him, and Seonghwa. Because there's not even a hint of any other scent besides them despite being in the same house.

It's overwhelming them.

It's one straight hall coming up the stairs, and behind them is a small open library area. One door is the bathroom. One is an empty room, save for a few boxes. You try to push away the quick remark he makes about making it into a nursery, but that makes your stomach hurt as well. The second to last in the hall is an office area with two desks, overflowing with stacks of paper and files. He says you don't have to worry about what they do in here, but you know it has to do with their 'line of work'.

The furthest door in the hall nearly makes you gag , but your wolf is howling and prancing excitedly. It smells, no, it reeks of the two alphas. He opens the door with a wide smile. A proud smile.

You step in hesitantly. There's an open door, a closet with neatly hung clothes over a set of drawers. "We'll make some room for your clothes as well. Next time I go to town I'll get you some, you didn't pack a lot." The bed side tables on either side of the enormous bed have a lamp and little things strewn on their surface. On the left is a walkman, a nail file, a framed photo that you can't quite make out from this distance. On the right is an ashtray, a small vase with fake flowers in it, and a half burned candle.

"You can make yourself at home, I promise. I know it will take a while to get comfortable... But you can make this place your own as well." He urges you forward and takes your bag gingerly. "I'll help you unpack."

It's not an offer, you quickly realize as he unzips the large duffel bag. You stand there anxiously in the middle of the room as he takes your things out and sets them on the dark grey comforter that knocks another wave of their mixed scent into the air every time he sets your things on it. "If you need anything too, don't be afraid to ask." He smiles over his shoulder at you. "You won't be going anywhere for a while, so let us know how to make you comfy!"

The nonchalant aura around him makes you angry. Acting like you're a prized guest, and like they didn't forcefully bond with you and drag you more than half way across the country.

He notices your tears before you do, pausing with your own walkman in his hands as he turns around. He discards it on the bed and fully turns to you.

With a sigh, he sits on the edge of the mattress. "Come here."

When you make no move to come forward, only standing still and crying with your head down, he uses his commanding voice. "Omega, come."

Your wolf nearly breaks her hind legs with the force she pushes you forward with. And despite your deepest anxieties and fears nagging at you, you find yourself standing between his knees. "Omega, look at me," he does it again, forcing your eyes to meet his with only his words. "You scared?"

"Yes..." It's barely above a whisper. But he catches it. You could whisper at the volume of an ant and he would catch it.

"Omega, tell me something that would comfort you."

You fight the words on your tongue, but it's useless. You're only grateful they haven't used that voice to do darker things. "I want to be home."

"Something else, omega."

"I want to nest."

"Stay."

He leaves you quickly, and your feet are rooted in place despite your pout. You blink away the remaining tears in your eyes, tired of crying over that which can't be changed. You're here. You're mated to two criminals. You're stuck in the middle of nowhere.

About seven internal wars later, he returns with his arms packed. "Here you go! Set it up wherever you like, Dolly."

He drops everything on the floor, and you hesitate to break his command of 'stay' before taking a step toward the pile and looking curiously.

"Can..."

He looks up from the pile, eyes eager, "hm?"

"Can I do it on my own...please?"

It's as if you can see the way his wolf's ears drop along with his eyes, but he nods nonetheless and takes a finally glance at you before he closes the door behind him.

˚➶ ｡˚

You wanted the corner of the room. Your wolf wanted the bed, arguing he said anywhere.

Halfway through building your saftey nest in the far corner, you get tired of her incessant howling.

You settle at the foot of the bed, building a small bed, just enough room for you incase they get ideas of joining you; they'd end up on the floor. You tuck your empty bag under your head, leaving your things where Hongjoong left them, too afraid to encroach on their space although they'd done much worse to you.

If you focus hard enough, you can smell the faint memories on the fabric. Smells that remind you of home. Smells that lure you to fitful sleep.

The sound of your soft, even breaths, reach Hongjoongs ears from his place in the office next door.

"She's asleep," he informs the others in the room quietly, followed by a threat, "wake her up and I'll kill you."

Yunho nods quietly, brining out a manilla file from his lap and setting it on the desk where Seonghwa is sat behind, and Hongjoong is sat ontop of. "Pictures of the Greene territory. Alpha's house is up on this hill, it's a good bit away but they'd hear any commotion, so we need to be in and out with whatever you've got planned."

Hongjoong leans over disinterested and glances at the developed photos. "How many in the house?"

"We've seen about six come and go, but Yeosang is out there now sniffing to pin point for sure."

The eldest wolf simply hums an acknowledgment, glaring at the photos of the large, smiling pack.

A silence drapes them gently while the leaders commit the layout to memory.

"So-"

"How-"

The beta bows his head, letting the elder speak first. "How many sales since we left?"

"About the same, some customers dropped when you guys' names hit the news. Only a few, though."

"Okay. What were you going to say?"

The brunette shifts in his seat, both of the alphas gazes now fixed on him, on his awkward heartbeat.

"About your mate... I don't mean to be crass-"

"Out with it." Hongjoong snaps, leaning towards him in an act of dominance, "what about her?"

Yunhos face drops, his back pressing into the chair, "do you really know that she's meant to be yours? She seems so... docile."

"You're questioning us?" Seonghwa grumbles, lip snarling upward, "has the few weeks of being in charge gone to your head?"

"No, no!" He shouts, quickly placing a hand over his mouth and lowering his volume, "no, Alpha... I'm just worried for her. It doesn't seem like she'll fair well here. She seems... a bit weak."

"She'll fair just fine, because we're going to take care of her. And you will as well. Everyone here is to treat her with the utmost respect and care. Yes, Yunho, we really know she's meant for us, ask something stupid like that again and you'll earn a trip to the basement."

"S-sorry," he pouts to himself, wiping it away before he looks up, "am I excused? I haven't slept well the past few weeks, I'd like to rest."

"Go," the alpha huffs, already beginning to sort through more papers.

"And be quiet in the hall!" Follows the second man, whispering loudly as the beta scampers away.

˚➶ ｡˚

A knock at the door is foreign. For you to hear, and for Seonghwa to do at his own door.

He doesn't get a response as you groggily lift yourself up, so he comes in anyways, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he sees your state.

"Dinners ready, we're waiting for you."

You blink up at him, and become brave as you shake your head.

"You aren't hungry? You need to eat, your heat is-"

"Do you all eat together?"

"We do, everyday except weekends. Wooyoung and Cheonsa are wonderful cooks."

"That's nice..." You sniff the air in attempt to find the wafts of food, but find nothing. With your senses, you can't smell anything other than the scents of your mates permeating in the wallpaper. "I'm not hungry."

"Come on, let get you some-" He reaches forward to your small nest, where you cower back even more, cutting him off-

"I don't want to."

A mute moment falls between you as he stares down at you, and you down at the floor. When you dare look up, your gut fills with regret.

His lip is snarled up on one side, canine on display and eyes glinting dangerously in the filtered light from the curtains.

You immediately lower your head, moving at a snails pace as you roll onto your side, then your knees, kneeling in your small nest. "Please, Alpha, I don-"

"You don't get a free pass to be disrespectful just because you're my mate. Pack dinner is non-negotiable, Omega. Do you understand?" You hear the movement from him, but you don't dare look at him again.

"Yes..."

Another beat of silence.

A pregnant pause.

His gaze burns your soul as he takes in every inch of you.

Your trembling fists at either side of your folded legs. Your lowered head, bites on both sides of your neck. Submitting to him so easily, making yourself small as you kneel on the little nest you've built in his space. Already smelling like him and his mate just by napping in their room.

He almost doesn't want to let the heavenly scent of you be tainted by leaving the room.

Almost.

You yip quietly as he tugs you up by your bicep, head still hanging low as you tune out his grumbling. He's careful going down the stairs, watching your feet closely as you descend.

His grip doesn't go away until you're standing infront of the table.

"Oh my gosh!" A sweet and soft voice coos, and it's quickly followed by the warm embrace of two hands cupping your face. Both calloused and gentle as a spring breeze, the caressing makes you open your eyes wearily.

The woman holding your face and smiling up at you immediately calms your anxious jitters, and your wolf is drawn into a sense of safety- one that feels like Hyolyn or Chungha, in a way. Like a fellow woman you could lean towards.

She has shining grey eyes that crinkle with her smile and brown fluffy hair. "Oh, she's so cute!" She coos softly, petting your cheeks in a way that makes you simultaneously confused and comforted.

"No touching, Cheonsa," Seonghwa chuckles from behind you, making the woman pout briefly as she steps back.

For a moment, you wonder why he was less stern with her- but your curiosity it settled when her round belly comes into view. You blink at it a few times before you hear her laugh.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to stare!" You move to bow, held upright by the man as the laughter spreads to the seated members of the pack.

"It's okay, she's pretty big, huh? I'm only six months, she must take after her dad." She cradles her stomach as she moves away to take the seat next to the buff beta. He has an air of proudness around him as he smiles at her. "Sit down, dear, we won't bite."

You rush to take the seat next to her, instead of the one next to Hongjoong and the unfamiliar man with green hair.

Despite the fact that she couldn't have been much older than the rest of you, she had a motherly aura that made you feel less like you wanted to dive out of the nearest window.

Seonghwa takes the seat you had passed up, giving Hongjoong a chaste kiss to the head which makes the smaller alpha beam.

The table is octangular and a bit cramped, but nobody seems to mind besides you. Though you won't voice your thoughts, you won't even look up until prompted. Across from you, Hongjoong speaks while reaching over and handing you a plate, "we all serve one another during dinner, it's our own little ritual of respect."

He begins loading the plate with a multitude of foods, a comfortable silence in the room. Comfortable for the pack, at least. You're starting to get restless as you watch his fingers effortlessly maneuver the serving chop sticks.

Your eyes go up his arm and scan the tattoo on his inner arm before you finally land on his face. He has a smile on his lips. One that's not manic or worn with an edge. One that says he's content, happy.

He gestures you to set the plate down, and hands you the chopsticks after you do so. "Serve anyone you like, Doll," the glint in his eyes clearly says he hopes you chose him, or Seonghwa even.

You take a moment to survey the circle.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa, who you won't serve for a list of reasons. The green haired man with an aura that almost seemed quiet, until you caught a whiff of his scent. Yeosang, your wolf connects as you remember the smell of the room you saw in your brief tour. San and Cheonsa, who you assumed wanted to serve one another. Wooyoung, Mingi, and Lia already had plates- apparently having served one another before your arrival. That left Yunho, who avoided your gaze, and a short and unfamiliar but strangely comforting man.

With everyone else accounted for, this must be Jongho. He doesn't smell like a werewolf, upon a further sniff. Similar to Lia, in that way. Actually, similar to Lia in a lot of ways. Soft features, brown eyes and hair, chubby cheeks. Was he unfamiliar? You felt like you'd seen him before. Maybe in a news paper or something reporting the groups crimes-

"Omega," Seonghwa hums, breaking your staring contest with the unwilling participant.

"Sorry..." You took a deep breath and decided on Yeosang. If he was as scary as his scent came off as, it'd be best to show him some respect and get on his good side. You shakily clench a piece of meat in the chopsticks and hold it out in offering.

He sits up straight and holds his plate up with both hands, seemingly surprised that you picked him out of any other open plate.

The alphas seem similarly surprised, watching as you fill the other man's plate before carefully handing over the chopsticks.

He makes quick work of filling Seonghwa's plate, almost as nervous as you as the alphas glare at him. Hongjoongs glare quickly falls into a childish pout, turning to face your lowered head. "Why him?" He drags out.

"Uh?" You look up with wide eyes, "I dunno... He has cool hair."

Wooyoung cackles at the bewildered faces of the leaders, and the noise makes smiles spread across the entirety of the table.

˚➶ ｡˚

The smell of lust is that of overly salted caramel butterscotch.

Seonghwa's is, at least.

You bury your nose deeper in the fabric of your bag and whine.

It's the dead of night, completely silence in the house. Darkness only broken by the moon filtering in through the windows. And you haven't gotten a wink of sleep.

The smell of the room keeps your rowdy wolf rolling on her back and exposing her underbelly, begging for her mates. And it doesn't help that the sources keep it fresh and wafting. And it especially doesn't help that the elder alpha seems to be having a wet dream.

You -against your best judgment- hold onto the end of the bed frame and peek your eyes over.

Hongjoong is laying face down with one of your few pieces of clothing under his head, half under the blanket.

Seonghwa is completely above the covers, on the other side of the bed and leaving a gap between them that they clearly left for you to fill.

The sight of him makes you slick — slicker, that is.

Only in his boxers, one leg bent to the side, tattooed fingers resting idly over the tent that-

"Hm? 'Mega?" He hums sleepily, blinking down at you.

You duck back into the false safety of your nest, breathing heavily like you just ran a marathon. Over the fast thrumming of your heart, you hear the bed creak ever so slightly. His steps, in reality are soft and somewhat clumsy from his newly woken state, but they feel like little individual earthquakes to you.

"What are you doing awake?" He asks quietly, sniffing the air curiously. "Aww," he reaches and pats your head softly, earning a sound that you rarely ever heard yourself make. You purred.

His smile was soft and earnest as he pets your head, taking a knee just outside of your little safe haven. "You need help?"

Yes! Your wolf wants to scream. Desperately, yes!

You shake your head, no.

He hums, clearly not convinced. His eyes trail down your body and to the little bed you've made. "That can't be as comfy as a bed, can it?"

You don't answer, simply staring up with wide eyes.

"Come lay with us, just until we can get you a mat or something and make your nest more comfortable, yeah?"

You can't lie to yourself, and you certainly can't lie to Seonghwa with his senses that listen to your heartbeat and pick up on every flutter of your eyelashes. Maybe it will help you sleep. You need a good night of rest.

"Okay..."

˚➶ ｡˚

The first floor is a hive of activity, people to and from and here and there. A multitude of barely familiar scents mixing together. The clink of cutlery and the distant hum of voices.

You're thankful that Seonghwa didn't drag you down like he did last night, they allowed you to come at your own pace; and if any of them notice you standing at the bottom of the stairs (they do), they don't say anything.

"Why don't you get something to eat?" A soft suggestion comes from behind you. Lia, you turn to see. "We won't bite," she jokes as she slides past you.

Unfortunately, you think, you do bite.

You follow loosely behind her, taking a small bit of the food off the serving plates before standing awkwardly in the doorway.

The chatter stops slowly and you can feel their eyes on you, but you try your hardest to ignore it as you over-think where to sit.

Over the open seat between Hongjoong and Yunho, you choose the one between Mingi and Jongho.

"How'd you sleep?" Cheonsa asks over the silence, clearly trying to break the ice.

"Fine, thank you... and you?"

"Oh, I was up and down all night — baby is acting I owe her money, kicking me like that," she laughs, bringing a small smile to your face.

The chatter between the pack members returns, and you keep mostly to yourself as you eat.

"- so he wants to see us in person to clear things up, shouldn't take us too long," Seonghwa says as he stands, catching your attention. He comes around the table to stand behind you and you freeze.

It's quiet again, the members know better than to talk over their leader; especially when he has the stern look on his face.

Your chair scrapes against the tile as he pulls you back, only a little bit.

He slides his finger tips down your jaw and under your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Will you be okay while Hongjoong and I take care of some business?"

You nod, hesitantly. You'll obviously be okay. But your wolf doesn't want them to leave.

"I'll be fine," you force out a verbal response and he hums approvingly.

Before he backs away though, he comes closer. Close enough to peck your lips gently, before backing away quickly and taking his plate to the kitchen.

Hongjoong is on you next, and he seemingly forgot the meaning of "privacy", as he shamelessly grabs your hair and tilts your head to meet his eager lips. You jump in shock, although you don't try to pull away as he licks your tongue a few good times before finally pulling away.

"Ooooh~" Wooyoung whistles, cut off by a hit to his chest from Mingi, "ow! Dickhead!"

Their bantering is lost on you as Hongjoong speaks, "be good, Dolly."

You face your plate once more as you feel your ear heating up with embarrassment- and something else.

From the door, you hear Seonghwa shout, "Yunho, you're in charge!"

Thankfully, the remaining members leave you to your own devices again as everyone finishes up, slowly filtering out and leaving you at the table on your lonesome.

And you sit there. For a long time, you just sit. And you think. And then, you begin to cry.

Because it's only been an hour. And you find yourself missing your alphas.

You keep your noise to a minimum for the sake of the wolves that you can hear in the other room, but one thing slips your mind.

There's another alpha in the house, and he can smell your scent turning sour.

Within seconds, he's snuck up on you, a frown on his face at the smell of an upset omega.

"Hey..." Yeosang whispers as he pulls out a chair one away from you, slowly sitting so as not to spook you.

You mumble out a small, "sorry," as you try and wipe your flowing tears, turning away from him.

"Do you, uhm, do you wanna talk about it?"

"What?"

He looks around the room like he's never seen it before just to avoid your gaze.

You sigh before looking back down at the table you've stared at for more than an hour.

Silence.

Painfully awkward silence and the stench of tears.

A low grumble comes from his throat, seemingly without his knowledge because his eyes widen and he bows his head with an apology. "Sorry, sorry," he rambles, "I'm sorry, my wolf just hates when others are sad."

"Sorry..." You sniff, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, no, no! Uhm, you know what, can I-" He holds his hand out, "can I just? May I?"

You look down at it cautiously, eyebrows screwed up in confusion, but your wolf tells you to take his hand. And so you do.

He wraps his fingers around your hand gently and holds it, and you slowly do the same.

Even more confusion paints itself on your face as your sadness fades into a dull tug in your heart strings. "How are you doing that?" You blurt out.

"I'm from a pack of healing wolves, it's just second nature to us." He says in a soft tone, something sad in his eyes.

"Thank you, Yeosang," you say simply.

The sadness is gone when he smiles up at you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The alphas return sometime in the night, as you sit on the porch with Cheonsa and Lia, talking about simple things and listening to the bugs chirp.

"Welcome back!" Cheonsa says before you even notice they're approaching.

"Ladies," Hongjoong greets with a playfully bow.

"Everything good here," Seonghwa asks more formally, leaning over you and scenting your head.

"Yup, all quiet here."

"Good. Could you give us a moment with our mate, please?"

They're up and into the house before he even finishes his command, leaving you alone with them in the dusk breeze. You greet them with a small smile, and a simple, "you're back."

"What, you expect us to abandon you?" Hongjoong jokes as he sniffs the air, a look of distain quickly overcoming his smile,"hey-!"

"You smell like Yeosang, why?" Seonghwa interjects with a cold glare, both of their stares making you shrink up.

"Oh, he helped me-"

"Helped you?!" The blonde pounces on you and sniffs all over, trying to pinpoint the smell and letting out a growl as the wind prevents him from doing so. He pins your wrists to the wooden porch and moves his nose all along your neck and chest.

"Not like that!" Your wolf whines at the mere thought of another alpha- another wolf touching you so intimately.

Hongjoong pauses, and so does Seonghwa who was about to rip the door open to get to the man you smelled of. From above you, the younger tilts his head, his grip lessening enough for you to hold out your hand — where the smell is most potent.

"I was crying, so he held my hand and did some healing stuff I don't totally understand, but it helped," you explain quickly, hoping to save Yeosangs head from winding up on a stick.

"Aw, why were you sad?" Hongjoongs tone flips immediately as he helps you sit upright, dusting the dirt off of your back. Seonghwa sits down next to you both, ignoring all the furniture in favor of being on your level.

"Cause I- my wolf, she missed you..." You admit with a hushed voice, shifting under their intense eyes.

Something hits them after you say that. Hits their noses.

Underneath Yeosangs strong alpha scent is you. More specifically, your arousal.

"Oh," Hongjoong smirks, "she missed us, huh?"

"Come." Seonghwa stands up quickly and grabs the door knob before turning back and picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of feathers, "not fast enough." He growls as he opens the door, ignoring your (light) protests, and ignores every thing and every one else as he carries you through the house and up the stairs; all the while Hongjoong follows with a aura of... something that can only be described as manic hunger.

You land on the bed, and the brunette is above you before you even know what's happening. He straddles your chest and grabs your hand; grimacing at the smell of another wolf on you before nuzzling his cheek all over it. You almost gape at the sight of him rubbing against your hand like a cat, but his blond paramour distracts you — tugging away your pants with one fell swoop.

You gasp as your slick soaked panties are exposed, the cold air that hits you has no business feeling so good. You cross your legs with an embarrassed whine, only for them to be pried right back open.

"Don't hide, Dolly~" Hongjoong coos, trailing his nails up your legs teasingly.

"They'll smell i-"

"Let them."

You can't argue with them, not when they've got you this worked up over such simple things. You take a deep breath before you do something you haven't in a long time, you let your wolf drive all of your actions.

You take your wrist out of Seonghwa's control and slide it all along his neck, allowing yourself to purr as the foreign scent is overwhelmed by your mates.

And overwhelmed it was, completely washed away and replaced by the mixed scents of the duo by the end of the night.

˚➶ ｡˚

The next day, breakfast goes about the same. It's less awkward, more flowing conversation. It's just you, your alphas, and San by the time a car horn blares outside.

"Ah, that's Jongho, he's taking us to Greene's territory so we can finalize our plan," Seonghwa speaks as he reaches across the table and goes to put more food on your plate.

"Oh, I'm not hungry," you shake your head with a polite hand out to stop him, "thank you, though."

"You've barely eaten," Hongjoong points out with a frown, looking up from where he was filing his claws. He points with one of them dramatically, "you eat. You're still in heat."

"Maybe it's settled down, I don't have much of an appetite."

"But we still haven't knotted y-"

"I'll take your plates! You should get going!" You cut him off with a heat rising in your cheeks, "you have zero tact."

"That's not a word!" He yells after you before looking toward Seonghwa, who's clearly just as confused and concerned. "Is that normal?" He turns to San, "no, right?"

"No, heats don't just go away, especially fresh off of blockers and fresh mated." San has a thoughtful look, watching as you clean the plates.

"Keep an eye on her," Seonghwa orders the beta, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

˚➶ ｡˚

You sit up with a sharp cry, tumbling off of the bed and onto the hardwood as you continue to fight your nightmare.

Downstairs, Yeosang flinches from the loud noise; dropping the basket of eggs Cheonsa was handing over.

Yunho, the designated leader in the alpha's absence, snaps into action. He leaps from his place on the couch and dashes up the stairs, telling commands all the while. "San, Wooyoung, check the borders! Cheonsa, hold up in the basement! Everyone else check the house!"

Immediately, two wolves are above you. In your nightmare induced panic, you don't register that they are Yunho and Mingi.

You slap away the hands that come towards you, fighting yourself into the corner, where you pull your knees to your chest and hide.

"Hey..." Yunho whispers slowly, lowering himself to your level, "hey, you're okay." He takes a shaky breath and lets it out as a sigh. "Mingi, go and get some water, will you?"

With a nod, Mingi is running to carry out his orders.

As your panic subsides, pain fills its place. A deep pinch in your stomach and a wave of unbearable heat across your entire body. You look around with wide eyes, searching for your alphas.

"Where-" you double over and groan, claws digging into the nightstand, "alpha?"

"I don't- I don't know, they were supposed to be back-"

"Where is my alphas?!" You bare your teeth at him, forcing a growl back down your throat as you see the kind man flinch. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Yunho. But something is wrong!" You wail as a pain akin to being punched in the stomach hits you.

"Yeosang!" It's your turn to jump as he yells out the open door.

Your cries carry through the home, nothing but raw panic and pain.

You see a blur of green, but that's all before your blurry vision gives out and leads you into darkness.

˚➶ ｡˚

"Heat build up? I didn't even know that's a thing..." Wooyoung sighs, leaning against the doorway of the alphas bedroom.

You're laid on the bed in a fitful unconsciousness, Mingi and Cheonsa working carefully to build a nest around you out of your mates clothes. "It's horrible," Mingi whispers, "I had it once, I should have seen this coming..."

"It's no one's fault," Cheonsa contrasts, leaning back and resting her hands on her belly. "It's a messy situation."

"Yeah, you could say that again," Lia quips with a pout as she turns a fan to face you.

"I can't heal it?" Yeosang asks again, biting at the skin around his nails.

"No," San and Mingi both reply, and the ladder continues; speaking from experience, "she needs to mate to get rid of it."

"Where the hell are those knot heads?" Wooyoung grumbles, fishing in his pocket. He pulls out a blunt and a lighter earning a look from Cheonsa.

"Is now really the time?"

"I'm stressed out, okay?!"

Your nose twitches in your sleep as he lights it, and as he begins to smoke it, your eyes peek open with a hopefully groan of, "Seonghwa?"

"Hey, sweetie," Cheonsa greets you softly as you wake, "how are you feeling?"

You curl up on your self and look for the source of the familiar smell, eyes landing on Wooyoung. "What is that?"

"Ah, weed?" He answers like it's a question.

"Want it, please?" You whine, eyes filling with tears. Seonghwa isn't here. Hongjoong isn't here. This is the next best thing, in your pain addled mind. Maybe it will taste like their kisses.

"Yeah, yeah of course," he approaches slowly and carefully hands it over, all of them watching as you hesitantly wrap your lips around it and breathe in. You barely get enough to have it on your taste buds, but it's enough to trick your wolf into believing it's one of Seonghwa's fleeting pecks or Hongjoong's dominating french kisses.

And that's enough to put you back to sleep for the time being.

˚➶ ｡˚

When you wake again, you can't stand the heat of the house; even with windows open to let in the breeze and a fan pointed at the sweat-soaked bed.

You allow San to carry you outside, although his touch burns your body. The relief of the cool summer breeze on your heated skin is worth it.

You lay on the porch, tucking a jacket that smells equally like the alphas under your head.

"Where are they..." You whine as another wave of pain settles in your gut, "they said it would be quick, they've been gone all day!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be back any time."

"How can you know that?"

"I know them."

You leave it at that, listening to natures nightlife in silence between other members of the pack coming to check on you.

It must be hours later. Others stopped coming and going a bit ago. The moon is high in the sky.

Even the bugs seem quieter.

"What the fuck is that smell?!" A bellowing shout nearly had you breaking your jelly-like bones to stand.

"Alpha!" You nearly screech, diving right into Seonghwa, wrapping your arms around him and scenting all over his chest — the dry blood splatter completely lost on you.

"Omega-" He can barely get a word out before you change targets and give Hongjoong the same treatment, also completely ignoring Jongho.

"Where the hell have you been?" San sighs a breath of relief, slumping in his chair where he'd faithfully been watching over you through all the hours of the night. "She has heat build up, she scared the shit out of us!"

"Greene spotted us so we improvised, took him out on the spot but his men blew our tires- heat build up?" Seonghwa's eyes darken, looking over to where you cling to Hongjoong.

His mixture of adrenaline, bloodlust, and the effects of his upcoming rut proves to be a deadly combination.

He snatches you from the younger alpha and growls as he pushes you to the wall of the house. "You stupid omega, I should have knotted you the second I was free. Do you know how dangerous heat build up can be?"

San shrinks up on himself as he hears the rumble in his leaders voice, quickly entering the house and gesturing for Jongho to follow.

"Dolly," Hongjoong begins with a similarly dark tone, "are you finally ready? Just say the word and we can make it all better~."

"Oh, please, yes-" Your words turn into muffled moans as Seonghwa's lips collide with yours roughly. He tastes like copper and cinnamon sugar as he forces his tongue into your mouth. You gladly grant him entrance, closing your eyes and opening your mouth to kiss him back just as passionately.

Hongjoong slides behind you, sandwiching you between them. The aching in your body is beginning to melt into a deep longing, a burning primal urge. A loud moan comes up your throat and into Seonghwa mouth as Hongjoong slips a hand into your shorts.

You blink your eyes open as Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes deep red and his claws cradling your face. "Why'd you stop?"

"You taste like smoke," he observes, his hips having a mind of their own as they press to yours; subsequently grinding his bulge against Hongjoong's hand that's toying with you.

"It tastes like you, I missed you," you admit plainly, which earns a smirk from him as he looks down at the way your hips grind subconsciously.

"Poor Omega," Hongjoong purrs from behind you, "you're soaking my hand, this all for us?" You whine a 'yes' as his hand leaves your heat, watching closely with wide eyes as he brings his dripping fingers to the older alphas mouth.

He takes the offering, eagerly. Licking and slurping your essence from every bit of his hand, moaning all the while you continue to watch and grind.

"Please, Alpha," you cry, claws slicing his shirt as you clings to him and pull him closer. He either ignores or doesn't notice your pleas until you whimper, "mate."

His tongue pauses, as does the fingers prodding at it. Both of them are on the same wavelength, working wordlessly in tandem. Seonghwa lifts you by your waist, allowing Hongjoong to easily swoop you up into a bridal hold.

He looks down at you as he carries you quickly to the room, smiling almost wholesomely. "What a pretty mate Selene gave us~."

He lowers you into the mess of clothes on the bed, the nest you'd fixed up between fits of unconsciousness. The sound of fabric slicing makes you jump, and you notice then that Seonghwa has ripped your clothes from top to bottom in one single swipe. They work together to completely rid you of your clothes, one lifting while the other pulls away the torn fabric that offends them by shielding your body. Like they've done this a million times before, they work in fluid unison. And you simply let them, watching and admiring.

You whine once more as Seonghwa stands, beckoning him to come back. "Shhh," Hongjoong shushes you gently, lowering himself to lay next to you. He drapes a leg around yours, prying your legs further open. "Don't you worry, Dolly," he leaves soft kisses all over the side of your neck — his side, he thinks. He laps over the healing mark he's left while his hand finds your wetness once again. "Your mates will take good care of you."

With no resistance at all, two of his fingers find their way inside of you, curling right up on that spongey spot that makes you gasp as stars fill your vision. "Hongjoong!" You let out his name in a shaking howl as he keeps his fingers pressing against that beautiful bundle of nerves, slowly harder and harder and- "fuck!" You cry as a wave of pleasure crashes into you.

You barely hear Seonghwa chuckle over your own panting and whining, Hongjoong similarly letting out a soft laugh as he wraps his free arm around your shoulders.

You blink your blurry eyes, letting the blondes face come into focus above you. "Feeling better already, 'Mega?"

"M-more," you whisper needily, humping down on his fingers with reckless abandon.

"Don't you worry, gorgeous," Seonghwa comes into your view from the other side of the bed, making the mattress dip and drive you further onto the fingers that scissor inside of you. "We'll give you more, give you everything you need. You want a knot, hm?"

He coos darkly as you nod desperately, eyes widening as you take in his naked figure, "knot, yes! Yes, yes, please!"

"You want two knots?" Hongjoong muses, slipping another finger into your core with close to zero effort, making you arch your back to try and suck him deeper.

"Need them! I need you!" Your words are jumbled and fast, but they latch onto every syllable and commit them to memory.

"Hmm~" Seonghwa blinks at you with his red eyes burning into your soul, and you don't look away. "Can a little Omega like you take a rutting Alphas knot?" His words are teasing, but make you pout all the same.

Hongjoong is giggling like he's watching a comedy, like he's not bringing you ever closer to another orgasm, as you babble and beg. "I can! I can! Please, Seonghwa!"

"I might break you-"

"Oh, do it! Please!"

He trails his claws across your cheek with an adoring glint in his eyes before he speaks, "how can I say no to that?"

With the promise of his knot, you let your pleasure crest once more, digging your own claws into the fabric below you as you mewl loudly.

You distantly feel Hongjoong withdraw, a soft grumble of protest leaving you as his body warmth disappears. It's quickly replaced by Seonghwa's as he climbs ontop of you. A soft tap on your cheek makes you realize you've closed your eyes, and you peek them open to face him.

"This is your last chance to back out, Starlight," the new nickname makes your head spin and your heart flutter. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes flicking between red and brown. "Once I'm inside of you, my wolf won't let me stop."

Hongjoong climbs back onto the bed with his clothes discarded, settling himself behind your head. He gently pets Seonghwa's messy hair back, gazing between the two of you.

"I need-" You stop yourself when your wolf corrects you, "I want you." You peek to the other alpha, "both of you. I have to have you."

"And have us you will," Hongjoong leans and kisses Seonghwa, making the man lurch forward to kiss him back passionately. You moan softly as you watch them, finding yourself clenching around nothing. "Elders first," he pulls back with a teasing quip, tracing down his neck to the years old mark, "unless you want me to-"

"I will throw you out the window," Seonghwa deadpans.

"Fair enough," Hongjoong chuckles before leaning back to give him space. Even he knows when to stop poking the proverbial bear. That bear, in this instance, being an alpha in a rut — a first born, at that. He may be his mate, but so are you, and he knows his wolf is fighting tooth and claw to knot with the pretty omega that bares his mark; because his wolf is too.

"C'mere," Seonghwa growls deeply, yanking you to the middle of the bed by your hips and making you yelp in surprise. "You're gonna be a good mate, take it all?" You nod quickly, desperately, wiggling your hips.

He groans as he has to lean down to rub his tip against your weeping heat, eyes flicking as his wolf howls for a better position. He has to stop himself from moving too quickly, claws still out and proud. He tenderly grabs the back of your thighs before ruthlessly folding you in half and bringing your hips up to what he deems an acceptable level.

You let out a fleeting gasp, quickly replaced by a sigh of relief as he pops his tip into your awaiting hole.

"Hold her," he orders as his eyes trace every inches of your body.

Hongjoong quickly complies, warm hands squishing down on the back of your thighs with a purr. He watches with eyes taken over by black as Seonghwa inches his hips forward; cherishing and savoring every slow moment as he fills you with a snaillike pace.

You're sure you'll explode from the pure euphoria that races through your body as he stretches your walls, making you moan and whine and flutter around him.

As his hips finally still, a deep rumbling sound comes from the depths of his chest.

You, in all of your pleasure filled delirium, don't notice it as you pant and moan, sucking in sharp breaths as you feel your core molding itself to fit him perfectly.

Hongjoong, however, has his ears tuned in to pick up on any little noise either of you make; so he lifts his head from its place in the crook of your neck to be sure he isn't hearing thing that aren't there.

You let out a soft whine as his body warmth leaves its place by your side, and similarly look up to the eldest alpha.

You blink up at him and tilt your head; and another deep rumble comes from the man.

"Baby," Hongjoong glances at Seonghwa's blissed out face, his eyes sparkling, "you're purring?"

He says it almost like a question, but it's most certainly a statement. The sound is weak and clumsy, but it's undeniably purring.

"Shut up," Seonghwa growls between his teeth, breathing heavily. He places his clawed hands over Hongjoong's, pressing your legs to your chest rougher. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head against your calf, another purr leaving his inked neck.

"Seonghwa?" You whisper, making his eyes snap open.

He looks completely enraptured, like he's almost forgotten where he is, as he rakes his eyes over you once again.

"I was right, I should have done this a long time ago."

"Wha- oh fuck!" You shriek as he suddenly and without warning begins to pound into you. Your feet sway and bounce, your back arches off the bed, your jaw pried open with embarrassingly loud sounds of carnality. You bring both of your hands to your mouth to dull your noises, the heat on your face now burning all the way to your ears as the realization dawns on you that all the members of the pack might very well be woken up by the sound of the alphas ravishing your insides.

The both of them growl, Seonghwa much louder than Hongjoong; who moves to grab your wrists.

He pauses his rhythm to lean over your folded up figure, slotting himself under your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, as Hongjoong pins your hands above your head. "Don't you try and hide from us," he groans deeply, sniffing at your neck. "Aww, she's embarrassed," he looks down at you while chuckling darkly, "don't be embarrassed, Love."

Your jaw drops as he starts his movements again, this time slow and intentional. "They all know you're in heat," he hums into your jaw before giving it a teasing lick. He leans up to gaze down at you, nails digging into your skin as he holds himself back.

"And they all know we're fucking~" Hongjoong adds with a smirk as he traces one of his hands all the way down your body, "might as well let them know how well we do it, right, Alpha?" He meets eyes with Seonghwa, and the onslaught of pleasure returns ten fold.

Seonghwa is pumping into you ruthlessly, the sound of wetness and skin on skin echoing with your wails of elation. Hongjoongs nimble fingers play with your clit like he's an expert on your body. And all you can do is writhe and moan; trapped beneath them in a whirlpool of lust.

"Please, please, please," is the only word in your vocabulary until, "Alpha!"

You howl as the tension inside of you snaps and releases a gushing wave of slick onto the alphas' pelvis and hand. The heat is like you've been filled with a million blinking stars, unlike anything you've ever felt before.

The blinding pleasure knocks you out of control and has your omega taking over, and you don't even realize the words that come from your own lips. "Knot me! Please! Oh, please, Alpha! I want your pups!"

Your pleading sobs have Hongjoongs neglected member twitching and leaking, standing at full attention while he watches his mates fuck like a pair of rabbits.

They have a similar effect on Seonghwa, whose wolf begs him to do as you ask. He manages to tear his eyes away from your fucked-out face and towards his other precious mate. "Fuck," he growls under his breath. He gives you one last good slam before withdrawing from you, making you sob.

"No, no! Please, Seonghwa! Akma!" It takes all of his years of training his wolf not to bust out and knot your perfect body as you cry his name.

You fidget and grind your hips in an attempt to get him back, but it's futile. "Shhh," he coos, clawed hand cradling your cheek and pushing it gently so you face the other alpha, "you'll get both of our knots by the end of this heat, I promise, Darling. But look at our Joongie, he needs some loving, huh?"

You focus your eyes on the younger alpha, eyes flicking everywhere around his body with pure adoration until they land on his member. It's leaking on his stomach, rising and falling with his heavy breaths as he controls himself. "Uh-huh," you agree with Seonghwa with a half-there answer, licking your lips subconsciously.

He moves away from you, letting your legs unfold from your body. "Have at her, Baby," he smirks as he hears his boy dive into you and begins kissing you sloppily. And then he settles himself with his back on the headboard to watch, fisting his own member slowly to keep his wolf appeased.

Hongjoong is half on top of you, forcing his tongue into your awaiting mouth as his hands fondle your breasts with a mind of their own. His hips, similarly, move to grind his cock against your leg without his knowledge. Now that Seonghwa has given him permission, the lower ranking alpha is buzzing with excitement and anticipation, slowly sinking deeper and deeper into his wolf's control.

You gasp and pant as he finally pulls away, his lips finding purpose in sucking little marks into your neck and shoulders that soon resemble a galaxy with how many he's leaving in his wake. "Joongie, please mate me," the soft pleading moan with his nickname makes him freeze.

"Present for me." He blurts with a newfound obsession in his mind. "Will you do that for me, Dolly?"

You blink. Once, twice. As you think. Presenting to a mate, especially to your alpha, is a big deal... Putting yourself in a completely vulnerable position and saying with that action that you trusted the other wolf to take care of you fully. Not just sexually, while of course that was part of it, but in every sense of the word. It's a vulnerable position, and putting yourself in that position says you put yourself fully in the others hands.

They watch with bated breath as your mind moves a million miles an hour. Seonghwa knocks his foot against your arm, "you don't have to if you aren't ready, Gorgeous."

Hongjoong nearly jumps out of his skin when you move under him, and he backs up to give you room, not wanting to spook you into stopping.

You turn yourself over, gazing up at Seonghwa as you settle yourself between his legs. You rest your head on his hip and close your eyes blissfully as you move to kneel. Your shoulders rest lower on his legs, slumping yourself with nothing but your bottom in the air. Then you move your hands behind your back, wrists crossed and ready to be held.

"Knot me, Alpha," you whisper lustfully.

Seonghwa is almost jealous that he didn't think to ask you to present first — be he knows he'll get his chance. Their poor little Omega, on blockers for so long and suddenly having it out made your heat bad enough. And then heat sickness multiplied it by a hundred. He'd be surprised if you allow them to leave the bed at all for at least two weeks. Really, he has to commend your willpower.

But right now, he can only admire how beautiful you are, especially as you submit to his mate fully.

Said mate is nearly bouncing off the walls, chest puffed out pridefully as he savors every second that he looks at you. Art truly imitates life, he thinks as he finds himself wishing that he could capture this moment in a sculpture, in a painting, even a measly photograph would suffice.

He feels a pang in his gut and growls loudly, eyes stuck in a pure black void as he comes up behind you. His wolf is clawing at the walls of his enclosure, and he doesn't have the strength to fight him anymore. He lets the beast take control of his body.

He's speared you open on his member before you even register that he's behind you, uncontrollable moans spilling past your lips and pilling up on Seonghwa's hip in the form of drool. When Hongjoongs clawed hands encase your wrists tenderly, you're a goner.

Over your own babbles of ecstasy and mindless profanity, you don't take in the words he's saying. You can tell he's being just as talkative as you, praises upon praises purred toward you as he uses his grip on your arms to pull you back into his frantic thrusts.

What finally makes you and your wolf listen is his deep rumble, followed by dark chuckle. "Oh, oh fuck~ Our pretty puppy sent me into an early rut," he mewls, eyes looking back into his head as your heat burns so pleasantly around his previously neglected member.

If it's the pet name or the words along with it, you can't tell, but you shake with an unexpected and sudden orgasm, soaking his legs and dripping on the sheets as you wail.

"Oh you like that?" Seonghwa chirps, petting your sweaty hair away from your face, "little puppy likes being told how good she is for her Alphas?"

You nod frantically, huffing and puffing to catch your breath as Hongjoong and his relentless wolf refuse to give you even a brief respite. Though your pussy feels like it can't take anymore pleasure, your omega brain knows it can and will. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit, and Hongjoong can feel it pulsing around him.

He drops your hands and you let them fall boneless, allowing the wolf you presented yourself to do as he pleases. His claws find a home on your hips, just barely scratching you as he holds you in place to repeatedly stuff you to your limit. "Fuck," he begins growing and purring nonstop, switching between the two as pleasure completely clouds his mind.

Seonghwa laces his fingers into yours, holding your hands tightly as you get your insides reshaped. You're mouthing and nipping at his hip, your eyes —when not screwed shut from the overwhelming pressure building in you once more— are glazed over and glowing. Not that barely there glow of an omega. No, not like that at all. They burn bright and blink like the stars that Selene handcrafted. Starlight begins to fit you more and more, he thinks with a grin.

"Look at you, Starlight," his praises continue, "taking a big bad alphas rutting cock." The words make your face burn hotter, how is it even possible? He knows his dirty talk has heavy effects on you, almost as much effects as Hongjoong dragging and knocking against that spongey spot inside of you that he found earlier. With every. Single. Thrust.

"You're gonna make me pop a knot early, Dolly," the blonde chimes in as well, making your cunt twitch in anticipation. He bends down and kisses across the scars on your back, purring something softer that makes your heart thrum with something different, "our Omega is such a warrior."

With those gentle words of admiration spoken while he has you in such a dominated position, you feel a burst of emotion blooming in your chest; making you cry out.

They feel it too, you realize as Hongjoongs hips stutter and Seonghwa's eyes grow soft with love.

You've finally let them in completely...

Mind, body, soul, and wolf.

You feel like a piece of thread, being woven in with them. You can feel their emotions, their intentions of protecting and providing for you. You feel the deep possessiveness they hold in their hearts for you. And you feel their power rushing through your veins.

All of these things, all at once.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around your chest from behind, staying deep inside of you; but you can barely feel it because something is deeper than that — the feeling of your souls being tied together, bound by the moon that shines in through the window, shining with pride at its job well done bringing you to your alphas. Bringing you to your fated pack. It shimmers, bathing you and your mates in its ethereal light. You finally feel something you've never felt before.

You felt like you were home.

Not a place, or a pillow to rest your head on at night. No, that's not home.

Home is the scent of happy wolves mingling in the living room. Home is serving each other at dinner. It's Cheonsa's warm aura, Lia and Jonghos chubby cheeks making their eyes wrinkle when they smile. Home is Wooyoungs humorous cackle, and San's watchful eye. Home feels like the softness in Yeosangs eyes as he takes his members pain. Home is like the fierceness with which Yunho snapped into action to protect the pack when he heard you cry. Home is the pack taking care of you after only a few days of knowing you.

Above all, though... Home is Seonghwa and Hongjoong. The smell of smoke lingering with the eldest alphas signature salted carmel. Roasted hazelnut coming so strongly off of the younger than you can almost taste it. The two of them mixing together to create a sweet scent that you want to drown in.

It's Seonghwa's fierce possessive nature, and the small smile he has when you interact with his hand-picked pack.

It's Hongjoongs ever present manic glee and giggles, the way he tries so hard to make you feel at home.

It's the feeling of their claws caressing you with care, holding themselves back so as not to harm you. The weight of Hongjoong on your back, protecting your body as you're far off in your own head. The reassuring squeeze Seonghwa gives your hands and the smile tugging at his lips as he feels your bond being completed. The way they give you time to process all of this, and so much more. Their patience with you even as their wolves howl incessantly.

Seeing you come back to yourself, Seonghwa slowly stops the soft pets he gave your head and smiles, "welcome home, Starlight."

Hongjoong peeks at you from behind, a smile gleaming in the moonlight. Pride overflowing from his very being at the fact that he got your last wall down and helped to complete the bond.

You have a smile of your own gracing your features as you look from Hongjoong back to Seonghwa, finally answering his question from days ago.

"I can feel you."

˚➶ ｡˚ ALLURE ˚➶ ｡˚

˚➶ ｡˚ EPILOGUE ˚➶ ｡˚

The kitchen and dining room is as lively as ever as Seonghwa carries you down from the third floor for the first time in three weeks. Everyone moves to work together seamlessly and set the table, the record player in the living turned up loud. "Hey, guys," he greets as you enter, "look who's back in business."

Everyone pauses. But it's not like before. It's not awkward or tense. Everyone has a smile on their face as they see you for the first time in almost a month.

Compared to last time they saw you, you were positively glowing. Not a trace of pain or anxiety on your face. Your scent didn't burn anyone's noses, instead it wafted gently and calmed them- much like the other pack omegas did.

"Hey," you smile sheepishly, looking down at the table as Seonghwa sits you down.

"Ah, praise Selene!" Cheonsa yelled with a laugh as she tackled you from the side in a hug.

Lia came up on the other side of you, similarly embracing you, "we thought you'd never come down! We were stuck with these guys again it was horrible!"

"Hey!" Wooyoung yelled offendedly before throwing you a smile as he handed you a full plate.

"Thank you," you smiled kindly, one hand on each of the women's arms as they refused to let go of you.

"C'mon, let the girl eat," Yunho swatted them away with the newspaper he held, shooting you a lopsided smile of his own.

Everyone settles in their seats, and peace overcomes you at the table with the members that you can feel through your minds.

Hongjoong comes bouncing down the stairs with a pep in his step, towel around his neck to catch the droplets of water that slide off his hair. "You left without me!"

"The food smelled too good, I couldn't wait anymore!" You argue, pouting as you sip some juice.

Seonghwa hides his prideful grin by taking a bite of his own. Not even a month ago, you couldn't smell the food from your bedroom no matter how hard you tried, and today it was what finally lured you out of the nest you've made of their bed.

"Aw, how could I stay mad at that face?" He coos, cupping your jaw to kiss you passionately.

"Zero tact," Mingi whispers to Yeosang, who nods.

Hongjoong pulls back with his eyebrows pushed together, "that is not a word!"

...

Minutes later, Jongho is leaned over a dictionary, and everyone crowded around him, some having placed bets.

"Oh there it is!" San shouts, "it is a word!"

"Tact: to talk or act carefully so as not to offend or disturb others," Lia reads with a chuckle.

"Damn," Wooyoung slumps, digging in his pocket and slapping down a five dollar bill into Yunhos awaiting palm.

"Told you," Mingi quips with a roll of his eyes, "Hongjoong has zero."

"You little brat!" A chase ensues around the kitchen, joyous laughter filling the room.

You rest your chin on your hand and watch fondly. You see Seonghwa do the same out of the corner of your eye, watching your mate chase the other omega around the table full of smiling faces.

Yeah. You think. This is home.

˚➶ ｡˚ THANK YOU FOR READING ˚➶ ｡˚

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #hongjoong smau #yandere ateez x reader #yandere ateez #yandere werewolf #yandere x reader #yandere fic #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #smut fic

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sabsclusive · 8 days ago

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SOLD OUT ON SUNDAYS𓂃۶ৎ ─── ❛❛ 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 : 𝟏𝟐𝑲? ❞ . WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT/SMUT, STRONG LANGUAGE, SUB!MATT, DOM!MATT, DOM!READER, DOM!MATT, JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, ARGUMENTS, EMOTIONAL TENSION !!

The store smells like dust and vinyl. Like that old-lady perfume you can’t name but know by heart, and rain-soaked cardboard boxes stacked by the front. The radio in the back’s playing some crusty old jazz station — something with too many horns — and the fluorescent light above the counter is flickering like it’s got beef with the ceiling. Matt doesn’t even notice anymore.

He’s behind the register, headphones halfway in, hoodie up, looking half-dead. He’s got one AirPod in and the other tucked into his hoodie pocket, and even though nobody’s shopped in twenty minutes, he’s still thumbing through the rack of CDs like there’s treasure hidden in between the cracked Jewel cases.

Until the doorbell rings.

Ding.

He doesn’t have to look up. He already knows it’s you.

The girl who only shows up on Sundays. The one who wears the same pair of Air Force 1s like they’re armor. The one who never talks except to mumble “thanks,” iced coffee in one hand and something oversized slung over your shoulder — always. You shop like it’s a mission. Like you’re here to save the ugly clothes nobody else wants. Matt doesn’t get it, but… he also kind of does.

You walk in with your headphones on, no eye contact, no smile. Just straight to the racks like clockwork. Sundays mean chaos for everybody else — brunch, church, errands — but for you? It’s thrift therapy.

And Matt?

Well. Matt watches.

Not in a creepy way. He just notices.

You always go for the skirts first. Then the oversized blazers. Then the bin with the ugly sweaters, like you dare them to be cute. He’s seen you hold up a lime green mohair cardigan like it was the hottest thing in the store — and then actually make it hot a week later when you wore it in here cropped, cinched, and stitched with rhinestones on the collar.

It’s annoying. It’s impressive. It’s kind of hot.

Not that he’d say that.

Matt watches you flip through hangers like you’re flipping pages of a book. Sometimes he tries to guess what you’ll pick. He’s almost always wrong. You like things with ugly patterns and weird buttons. You like jackets that don’t match your shoes and pants that don’t match your bag. But somehow, it works. And somehow, you don’t care if anybody else gets it.

He does, though. Lowkey.

You’ve been coming in every Sunday for two months now, and you still haven’t said more than five words to him. But Matt remembers every outfit. Every bag. The time you wore two skirts layered on top of each other and made it fashion? Yeah. He still thinks about that.

“Yo,” he says casually when you finally head toward the counter, two skirts in your hand and a blazer that smells like mothballs slung over your arm.

You blink. Slide your headphones down.

“Huh?”

He nods toward the items. “You know it’s half off jackets today, right?”

You pause. “Even this one?”

Matt glances at the tag. “Yeah. That’s technically a jacket. Even if it looks like it got pulled out of somebody’s uncle’s closet.”

You snort. “That’s kind of the point.”

Matt smirks.

You pull your phone out to check your student discount — and freeze. Then curse under your breath.

“No way,” you mutter. “I left my ID. Again.”

Matt leans forward on the counter. “Second time this month.”

You look up at him, annoyed — more at yourself than him, but still. “You memorize that or something?”

He shrugs. “You’re memorable.”

Oh.

Not him saying that all casual like he didn’t just make your stomach do a full cartwheel.

You roll your eyes to hide the smile threatening to creep up. “Whatever.”

You go to set the clothes down, but Matt leans in a little closer. “You could leave it on hold ‘til next week. Or, I could just act like you showed me the ID and give you the discount anyway.”

You blink.

“…You’d do that?”

He shrugs again. “I don’t snitch.”

You purse your lips, then nod once. “Cool.”

He starts ringing you up, slow and careful. You fidget with your sleeves, feeling the tension creep up your neck. There’s something weird about the air between you two today — like it’s… warmer. Or maybe that’s just him watching you a little longer than usual.

You glance up. “You work Sundays every week?”

He looks surprised you asked. “Yeah. Only day I don’t have class.”

“Oh. You go to school?”

“Community college. Art program.” He clears his throat, like he wasn’t planning to say that. “Trying to transfer next year.”

You blink again. “What kind of art?”

He pauses.

“Stuff you’d probably call weird.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I literally turned a doily into a corset. Try me.”

He smiles at that. For real this time.

The door creaks, and you both glance toward it. It’s started raining outside — pouring. Like full downpour, windshield-wiper-on-high type rain. You groan, pulling your hoodie over your head.

Matt hesitates, then reaches under the counter and pulls out a folded-up thrifted umbrella.

“Keep it,” he says, holding it out like it’s no big deal. “Some lady left it in the dressing room last week.”

You squint at him. “You sure?”

He shrugs. “You’ll bring it back next Sunday.”

Oh.

So he really do pay attention.

You take the umbrella and look back at him. “Thanks.”

He nods. “See you next week.”

You pause at the door. Glance over your shoulder.

Then smile — just a little.

“Yeah,” you say. “See you.”

And then you’re gone, out into the rain, headphones back in, umbrella open. Matt watches the door swing closed behind you and presses play on his playlist. The jazz is still playing overhead. The CD rack still dusty. But yeah — the store feels different now.

Sundays used to feel like the slowest day of the week.

Now? They feel like something might actually happen.

The thing is, you weren’t even planning to try anything on.

You came in for one thing: that red tartan pencil skirt you saw on the mannequin last week. You had plans for it — split the hem, add grommets, maybe a lace-up moment in the back if you were feeling dramatic. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out. Headphones in. Hoodie up. Zero eye contact. That was the system. That was what kept you sane every Sunday.

But the skirt was gone.

“What happened to the plaid?” you asked, pulling out one earbud, squinting across the racks like it might materialize if you looked hard enough.

Matt — that boy with the messy curls and the stare that was too intense to be polite — blinked at you from behind the counter. Like he was surprised you spoke. Like he hadn’t rung you up fifteen times already.

“Oh. Uh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Sold it.”

You blinked. “To who?”

He shrugged. “Some girl. Yesterday.”

You blinked again. “And you let her?”

Matt tilted his head like that was a weird thing to say. “It’s a store,” he said slowly. “People buy stuff.”

You just stood there, betrayed. Your hand gripped the edge of a mismatched rack like it personally offended you. The silence stretched. Your iced coffee was sweating in your hand. You sighed, real dramatic, then wandered back toward the ‘Bottoms’ section.

Fine. If the tartan skirt was dead, you’d find something better. Hotter. Petty revenge by outfit.

You flipped past rows of corduroy, plaid, denim, sequins, and neon nightmare spandex until your fingers landed on it: a black leather micro mini. Mid-rise. Slight stretch. Gold stitching that caught the light like it was flirting with you. It had absolutely no business in a dusty little shop like this. Naturally, you snatched it.

The fitting rooms were tiny — more like prison cells with mirrors — but you squeezed inside anyway, peeling off your cargo pants with one hand and pulling the skirt on with the other. It hit mid-thigh. High-mid-thigh. You tugged it down. It tugged back. Rude.

Still, when you turned to the side, it was kind of… perfect?

You stepped out to check the mirror by the shoes, adjusting the waistband. You weren’t even thinking. Just doing that dumb thing where you admire the fit and make little mental notes like crop top, gold hoops, statement boot. You twisted to check the back.

That’s when you felt it.

Eyes.

You glanced up.

Matt was watching you from behind the register.

Not in a pervy way. Not in a creep behind the dressing room curtain way. But in a he forgot how to blink kind of way.

You blinked. He blinked back. Then looked away fast, cheeks blooming pink like somebody set a match to them.

You froze. Your heart did this stupid stutter, and you said the most intelligent thing possible:

“…You good?”

He coughed. “Yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to—”

“I mean,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Do you like the skirt or…?”

Matt looked mortified. “It’s cool,” he mumbled.

You waited. He looked like he was fighting a demon.

“It’s…you wear it well.”

You snorted. “That’s so grandpa-coded.”

Matt half-smiled, still red. “It was either that or ‘slay,’ and I felt like that’d be worse.”

You turned back to the mirror, heart hammering in your ears like a kick drum. He said you wore it well. You wore it well. You didn’t even know Matt talked that much.

You looked back at him one more time, just to see if he was still staring.

He wasn’t.

But he was smiling.

The skirt went in the bag.

You didn’t even flinch at the $12 tag. You just handed Matt a crumpled twenty and said, “No receipt,” like you were buying something way less scandalous. He didn’t say anything either. Just rang you up like normal. Only his hands were a little shaky, and he gave you a paper bag instead of plastic, which he never did.

You walked out that Sunday in your cargos again, the skirt rolled up in the bag, but it felt different now. The air. The weight of the door swinging shut behind you. Like the rhythm of your Sundays — same iced coffee, same entrance, same rack to the left of the fake potted fern — was off. In a good way. Like a song you’ve played a hundred times just hit different one day.

By next week, he’d put a disco ball on the counter.

You weren’t sure why it caught you so off guard. It was a tiny thing — probably from the kids’ section — but it was spinning. Slowly. And Matt was just standing behind it like he hadn’t added a whole party prop to the register area.

“Okay, Studio 54,” you said, raising a brow.

He glanced up from pricing cassette tapes. “Huh?”

You pointed at the disco ball.

“Oh.” His eyes widened like he forgot it was there. “You like it?”

You squinted. “I’m deciding.”

Matt nodded, serious. “Let me know. We value feedback here at Dusty Depot.”

You snorted. “That better not be the actual name.”

He shrugged. “It is now.”

You bit your lip so you wouldn’t smile, but he caught it anyway. His mouth twitched.

You moved to the rack, same as always, but now there was this… extra hum in the air. Like both of you knew something changed. You didn’t know what it was yet, but it was sitting in the air between you — right next to the disco ball.

You were flipping through old concert tees when you heard him again.

“You have good taste.”

You glanced up. “Obviously.”

Matt looked mildly impressed. “Okay.”

“What?” you grinned.

“Nothing,” he said, trying not to smile. “I just think you’re funny or whatever.”

That “or whatever” hung in the air for too long.

“Wow. High praise from a guy who shelves porcelain dolls for a living.”

“They’re vintage,” he said, deadpan.

“And terrifying.”

He shrugged. “It’s camp.”

You cracked up. That was the first time he made you laugh out loud, like actually laugh. Not the polite kind, either. A real, scrunched-nose, unfiltered cackle that made you step back and cover your face.

“Stop,” you wheezed, shaking your head. “You’re gonna make me buy something cursed.”

Matt tilted his head. “You already did. That mini skirt had beef.”

You stared at him.

He blinked. “I mean—it was like, spicy. Not spicy spicy, just… like… fashionably rude.”

You burst out laughing again. “Fashionably rude is wild.”

He shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”

And just like that, your Sundays weren’t the same anymore.

You weren’t supposed to be back there.

Not technically. Not unless you worked there. But there you were, standing next to the register, peeking at the stickers he’d slapped across the cash drawer and the messy handwriting on his price tags. The air smelled like old records, plastic hangers, and a little bit of boy. Which is to say… like sandalwood deodorant and soda someone forgot to throw away.

“You really don’t got a back room?” you asked, squinting.

Matt shook his head, crouched under the counter digging through a bin of misplaced earrings. “We got the closet. That’s where we keep the weird mannequins and taxidermy nobody wants.”

“That’s sick.”

“You’d like it.”

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Wow. I’m flattered.”

He smirked, eyes still down. “You give cursed energy. In a good way.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything. Mostly because your heart was acting like it had never been around a boy before. He was right there — right next to you — knees grazing yours every time he shifted. And you were wearing one of your Sunday specials: a denim maxi skirt turned mini with safety pins up the side, paired with a mesh tee over a thrifted baby tank. You looked good. And Matt? He noticed.

He just didn’t say anything.

He never said anything. Not direct. But he looked. You weren’t imagining that.

“So what—” you started, to distract yourself, “—do you just stand back here looking mysterious all day?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I price records. Sometimes I clean. Sometimes I pretend to clean.”

You nodded. “And sometimes you flirt badly.”

He froze.

Then stood up way too fast, hitting his head on the counter. “Ow.”

You blinked. “Oh my God.”

“I’m good,” he winced, rubbing the back of his head.

You squinted at him. “Sure. Real smooth.”

Matt laughed under his breath, still pink in the face. “Didn’t say I was good at flirting.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t,” you said, turning so he wouldn’t see you smiling.

Silence settled in again — warm and thick and slow, like honey.

You peeked down at the register. “Wait… are those Pokémon stickers?”

Matt turned redder. “…No.”

You pointed. “Is that Pikachu with a grill?”

“Okay, yes. But ironically.”

You cracked up. “Yeah, okay, cashier of the year.”

He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, a little shy, a little smug.

And then — like it wasn’t a big deal at all — he asked:

“You wanna price stuff with me?”

Your brows raised. “Like, actually?”

He nodded. “I trust your taste.”

You tried to play it cool. “So I can abuse power and price cute stuff lower?”

Matt smirked. “I plead the fifth.”

You bit your lip. “Bet.”

And just like that, you were in. Behind the counter. Sitting on a crooked stool next to a boy who thought you were funny, stylish, and maybe a little cursed in the best way.

That Sunday lasted three hours.

Neither of you even noticed.

It started with the yellow sunglasses.

You didn’t even plan the fit like that — it was lazy. Tube top, patchwork jeans, cardigan falling off your shoulder, and those crooked yellow lenses you’d found in a $1 bin the first Sunday you ever came in. You tossed them on your head and walked in sipping a strawberry matcha like you weren’t thinking about Matt all morning.

But you were.

A little.

Okay, a lot.

He was behind the counter like usual, hoodie half on, curls messier than last time, writing something in a tiny notebook. He didn’t look up right away. He always looked up when you walked in — and this time, he didn’t.

You hovered by the scarves a little longer than necessary.

Finally, he looked up.

Then looked again.

And stayed.

You caught it.

It wasn’t the “oh, she’s here again” look. Or the “let me not be weird” look. It was the lingering kind. The kind where someone’s eyes trail down — from your lips to your neck to the gold chain resting on your collarbone — then flick up real fast when they realize they’re being too obvious.

You blinked. “You good?”

Matt jumped slightly, eyes wide. “Huh? Yeah. Sorry. Just spaced.”

“Mmhm.”

You walked over slow, dragging your fingers across a row of vintage windbreakers like you weren’t clocking the way his gaze stuck to your hands.

“I’m saying,” you added, “if you’re gonna stare, at least be sneaky about it.”

Matt flushed. “I wasn’t— I mean— I’m not—”

You tilted your head. “You weren’t staring?”

He cleared his throat. “Not in a weird way.”

You held back a smirk. “Cool. So it’s the normal kind of staring.”

Matt turned bright red and ducked back behind the register like it was a shield.

You laughed to yourself and walked off — not too fast — and pulled a floral mini from the rack just for drama. It had ruffles. He absolutely saw it. Later, while you were flipping through old cookbooks by the dusty stereo, he crept up next to you.

“I like your sunglasses.”

You turned to him, lifting the yellow shades off your head and sliding them onto your nose. “These?”

He nodded, soft. “They’re loud. In a good way.”

You blinked behind the lenses. “You always say stuff like that.”

“Like what?”

“Stuff that sounds like compliments, but you’re too shy to say it straight up.”

He laughed under his breath. “I said I liked ‘em.”

You studied him. “You like me, too?”

He looked stunned.

Then he smiled — not big, just enough.

“I plead the fifth,” he murmured.

And walked off.

You stood there, cheeks burning, pretending not to freeze.

Because that? That wasn’t nothing. You knew they closed at 6.

The sign said it.

Your phone told you.

Matt told you. Twice.

But when 6:07 rolled around and he still hadn’t kicked you out… you kept pretending to flip through a rack of ripped Levi’s like you couldn’t read time.

“You know we closed, right?” he said, leaning against the wall, arms folded.

You didn’t look up. “Oh nooo… for real? That’s crazy.”

He grinned. “You absolutely know what time it is.”

You shrugged. “Guess I just lost track.”

Matt squinted. “You always leave by now.”

“Maybe I’m evolving.”

He didn’t say anything for a second.

Then: “Maybe I don’t mind.”

That made you look up.

The store was dead quiet. Just the hum of the old AC and the faint sound of some soul record playing in the background — the kind that made the air feel warm. And Matt was right there, watching you. Not in a weird way. In a knowing way. Like he saw straight through your ‘I’m just shopping’ performance and didn’t mind one bit.

You laughed under your breath and set a jacket back on the hanger. “So what happens now? You gonna throw me out?”

He shook his head. “Nah.”

“Oh? You breaking store policy for me?”

He walked toward you slowly, every step louder than it should’ve been on that squeaky tile floor.

“I don’t think you’re just here for the clothes,” he said.

Your breath caught. “Oh?”

He stopped in front of you — not too close, but close enough that you could smell the cedar in his hoodie. Close enough to see the little scar under his chin and the freckle on his cheek.

“And if I am?” you asked.

Matt looked down at you, quiet. That stare again — soft, heavy, not moving. The kind that makes your knees do something they shouldn’t.

“Then I’m glad,” he said.

You laughed, nervous. “You’re weird.”

He shrugged. “You’re still here.”

Your fingers grazed a hanger behind you, but you weren’t really looking at the clothes anymore. You were looking at him. Wondering what it meant that he didn’t flinch when you got this close. Wondering if he always looked at girls like this — or if it was just you.

Then — completely calm, like it was the most natural thing in the world — he said:

“You wanna hear the record I keep behind the counter?”

You blinked. “You hide records now?”

“Only the good ones.”

He held out a hand.

And you took it. Behind the counter, the store looked different. Quieter. Older. The overhead lights buzzed while he put the record on. It cracked a little at the start — then melted into this warm, jazzy loop. Saxophones. A bassline. Some smoky-voiced woman crooning about wanting something she’s not supposed to want.

You sat on the little stool while he leaned on the register next to you, saying nothing.

Just listening.

Your knees touched.

Neither of you moved.

You didn’t leave until 7:43.

And even then, he held the door open slow. Like he didn’t want to watch you go.

It was dumb.

You barely touched him. Y’all didn’t even hug. But somehow your brain took that one long stare behind the register and ran with it like it was a full-blown music video. And now here you were — 3:02 in the morning, bonnet slightly crooked, laying flat on your back staring at the ceiling like Girl, be so serious right now.

Because why did you dream that he kissed you?

Why did your subconscious go full softboy indie romance on a boy who’s barely said more than eight sentences to you at a time?

And worse — why was it good?

You groaned into your pillow.

In the dream, you were back in the shop. But it was darker. Like dream-dim — warm string lights, a record spinning in slow motion. You were wearing something you would never wear in real life — some slinky little tank and a skirt that rode way too high.

He was behind the counter again. Looking at you like he knew something. Like he’d been knowing.

And then — no warning — he just stepped around the register, walked right up, and kissed you like he meant it. Hands low on your waist, mouth slow and sure, like it wasn’t the first time.

You woke up so mad.

You flopped back down and grabbed your phone.

Siri, why did my brain make up a whole fake moment with a boy who hasn’t even asked for my number?

Siri was useless.

You considered texting your group chat, but it was 3am. All they’d say was “you’re delulu” and “tell him.” As if it was that easy. As if you didn’t have a whole wall up made of sarcasm, thrifted boots, and an iced matcha addiction.

Still, you opened your notes app and typed:

Sunday.

Matt.

Dream.

Bonnet slipped off.

I hate it here.

You locked your phone and stared at the ceiling again.

You weren’t gonna act weird next time.

You weren’t gonna bring it up.

You were gonna be cool.

So cool.

It was a Sunday like any other. You walked into the thrift store, the familiar chime of the doorbell announcing your arrival. Matt was behind the counter, as usual, his head buried in a book. You made your way to the racks, pretending to browse while stealing glances at him.

After a while, you picked up a particularly hideous sweater and held it up. “Think this would look good on me?” you asked, a smirk playing on your lips.

Matt looked up, took one look at the sweater, and burst out laughing. Not the polite chuckle he usually gave, but a full, genuine laugh that lit up his face.

“Absolutely not,” he said, still laughing. “But I admire your confidence.”

You laughed too, the sound mingling with his. It was the first time you’d seen him so unguarded, and it made your heart flutter.

You spent the rest of the afternoon chatting, the conversation flowing easily. The tension between you was still there, but it was different now. Lighter. More playful.

“So what happens if I do buy the ugly sweater?” you asked, holding it up like it was high fashion.

Matt tilted his head, leaning on the counter. “I’d judge you.”

You smirked. “I can handle that.”

“I’d also say you owe me ten minutes behind the register to defend your choices.”

You blinked. “Ten minutes?”

He shrugged. “It’s serious business.”

The way he said it — that dry tone, the steady stare — made your stomach flip.

So you bought it.

Ten minutes later, you were behind the counter, standing way too close in a sweater that looked like a couch from 1973.

“This is deeply hideous,” you whispered.

Matt stood behind you. Too close. He smelled like laundry and cedar again.

“I know,” he said quietly. “But you make it look…” His voice trailed off.

You turned to face him.

That was a mistake.

You were way too close now — breathing each other in. Your back brushed the edge of the register. His hand was on the counter, knuckles brushing your waist like it wasn’t an accident.

His eyes dropped to your mouth.

“Say it,” you whispered.

He blinked, slow. “Say what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking.”

A beat passed.

Then, voice low:

“I’m thinking if I kissed you right now… you wouldn’t stop me.”

You didn’t move.

His hand slid off the counter — to your hip. Gripping. Testing.

You nodded once.

He leaned in.

The kiss was slow — mouth soft but full of intent. Like he’d been wanting to for weeks but refused to rush. His hand tightened at your waist, pulling you just a little closer. Your fingers curled into his hoodie. His tongue grazed yours — just once — and your knees damn near gave out.

Then he pulled back, barely.

His breath hit your mouth.

“You always stay this late?” he whispered.

You licked your lips. “Only when it’s worth it.”

You weren’t even looking for it.

You were behind the counter, killing time, sipping iced coffee and flipping through the sketchpad he left open like it wasn’t his entire brain on paper.

It was normal at first. Outlines of jackets. A couple sneaker silhouettes. Scribbled song lyrics in the margins. But then — dead in the middle of the book — you.

Back turned. Leaning forward. Coffee in hand, headphones on. Skirt barely covering anything. Down to the scuffed toe of your Doc and the chipped red nail polish on your thumb.

You stared at it for a long time.

“Matt,” you said, not even bothering to hide your tone.

He glanced over from the racks. “Yeah?”

You held it up. “You serious right now?”

One blink. Not a single flinch. “What?”

“This is me.”

“Damn,” he muttered dryly, walking over. “Caught.”

You tilted the book. “What, you just sit in the back drawing me like a project?”

He stood right in front of you now, voice low. “You been walking in here every Sunday in these little skirts, looking like that… and you’re surprised I noticed?”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t say anything.”

He shrugged. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hi, I’m Matt, I jack off to you like twice a week’?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Relax,” he added, smirking. “I only drew it. I got a very vivid imagination.”

You stared at him. He stared right back.

That heat from last week came crawling up your throat. But now it was laced with something else. Tension — yeah. But also confusion. Intrigue. Suspicion.

“Come here,” he said, already reaching.

You didn’t move, but he stepped into your space anyway. Hand on your hip. Grip way too firm. The sketchbook slid off the counter and hit the floor with a dull thud.

“You creepin’ me out right now,” you whispered, even though your breath hitched the second he touched you.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he said, smiling like a dare. “You want creepy, baby, we can do creepy.”

And then — he kissed you. No build-up. Just heat. Teeth. Tongue. His hands gripped your waist so tight it felt like punishment. Like you owed him something.

You gasped, he laughed into your mouth. “That little noise? Yeah. Keep doing that.”

You barely remembered how your panties came off — only that they did, and fast. He sat you on the counter like it was a throne and dropped to his knees like he’d done it before. Your skirt got shoved up to your waist. His mouth was filthy — all tongue, all spit, all control.

“I should’ve done this the first time you walked in here,” he said, licking slow and messy up the inside of your thigh. “Could’ve saved myself the backaches.”

You moaned, grabbing his hair. He laughed again, mean this time.

“Yeah. Take it,” he muttered, pushing two fingers in without warning. “Thought you were real quiet. Turns out you’re just full of shit.”

He fucked you with his mouth and fingers till your thighs were shaking, then stood up and unzipped his jeans like it was nothing.

Condom. Wallet. Quick. Practiced.

He flipped you around and bent you over the counter like he owned you. You barely had time to breathe before he shoved in — hard. One hand in your hair. The other flat on your lower back, holding you in place like he knew you’d run.

“Goddamn,” he hissed. “This is what you been hiding under those grandma skirts?”

You whimpered.

He gripped harder. “What? You don’t like being talked to?”

You didn’t answer fast enough, so he grabbed your throat and pulled you back.

“Say it,” he whispered against your ear. “You want it like this?”

You choked out a breath: “Yes.”

He snapped his hips in deeper. You gasped, legs folding.

“Fuckin’ knew it.”

By the time he finished, your legs barely worked and your lipstick was smudged halfway down your face. He didn’t even pretend to be sweet. Just tucked himself back in, pulled your skirt down, and passed you your underwear with a stupid little smile.

“That sketch?” he said, nodding at the pad on the floor. “Think I’m gonna update it.”

You glared at him, breathless. “You’re sick.”

“Sure am,” he said, leaning in close. “And you still keep showing up.”

You barely remembered how you ended up outside in the rain. One minute you were stumbling around the back of the store, fighting with your jacket, and the next, you were standing under the awning, blinking hard to focus.

You should’ve gone home. You should’ve done anything but stand there, breathing the cold air and trying not to let the panic set in.

But you were thinking about him. About that.

And how much he’d messed with your head.

The front door to the store creaked open behind you. You didn’t turn. You didn’t want to turn. But you could feel him before he spoke.

“You can’t leave like that.”

Your fingers twitched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

You took in a sharp breath, sucking the rain-soaked air down into your lungs. He didn’t even sound like he cared — which pissed you off more than anything else. But you didn’t say that. You just let the silence stretch.

Matt stepped out into the rain, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again, closer now. “Thought I broke you, but damn… you’re still standing.”

“Stop,” you muttered, your back to him. “Just… stop. I don’t need your jokes right now.”

“You don’t?” He laughed, but it was low — like he could hear the cracks in your voice. “Funny. Because you liked me joking earlier.”

The words were too much. You turned around, eyes narrowed, throat tight. “That wasn’t a joke, Matt. That was you being a creep.”

His expression didn’t change. His smirk slipped, replaced with that familiar look of quiet understanding. “You’re right,” he said, voice dropping a little deeper. “But I was being serious, too.”

“Seriously what?” you shot back, fists clenched at your sides. “That you wanted to fuck me?”

He shrugged, slow and deliberate. “Yeah. You think I didn’t want it?”

“Don’t talk like that,” you snapped, your heart pounding. You hadn’t felt this conflicted in forever. Your body was still humming from the aftermath, but your mind was too tangled.

He was smirking again. “Like what? Real? Because I’ve been real with you from the start.”

The rain had soaked through his hoodie. But the way his eyes stayed locked on yours? It was like everything else didn’t matter.

He stepped closer, his presence too close, invading that space you usually kept for yourself. His hand brushed your arm, just barely, but it was enough to make you tense.

“What’s so bad about me being honest?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing. “I like you. You liked what happened. But you’re acting like you want to run now. What’s that about?”

You didn’t have a good answer.

“Answer me,” he pressed, stepping forward just enough that you had nowhere to go but back. “I can see it. You’re into me, right?”

Your heart skipped.

“I—” You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it together. But you weren’t getting anywhere. Not with him looking at you like that.

He smirked again, his hand landing on your wrist this time, holding you there as if he was claiming some part of you — just like everything else.

“You want to run away? Fine. But you’re not going to, are you?”

You couldn’t speak.

He took a step back, but only to breathe you in. “You want me again. I’m sure of it.”

Before you could process, his lips were on your neck — hot, desperate, and enough to make your breath catch. He didn’t care about how awkward this was or about the rain splattering against your skin. All he cared about was you.

“I told you. You can’t just show up like that — in those skirts and with that look — and expect me not to want to tear you apart,” he murmured, lips dragging up the side of your neck. “Now, you’re stuck with me.”

You pulled away from him, trying to breathe normally, but your body was betraying you. The moment you did, he grabbed your wrist and spun you right back into him.

“Relax,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “I won’t bite.”

But you were already on edge, too aware of how badly you wanted to be touched.

This time, you didn’t try to stop it. Your body was already responding, aching, heated, and so damn frustrated.

“You’re not funny,” you muttered, but it was weak — you knew it was weak. You were already giving in.

Matt’s grin was back in full force. “Yeah, I am,” he whispered. “You like me this way, don’t you?”

You couldn’t answer.

But you didn’t need to.