#and i remember like seeing people laughing before we even started

[joeyspuckbunny]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ mine. - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: Joe and Y/N go to the Annual Tavares' Christmas party, where Y/N meets a majority of the team for the first time. She hits it off with the young forward, Matthew Knies. Seeing Y/N so content with a younger guy, Joe gets worried about his age difference with her and the problems that may arise from it. request: hey love hope you're doing well, could you write a fic with Joseph Woll where the reader meets Matt Knies for the first time since joe and her have been dating for a while, and joe gets jealous. hope that makes sense if not ignore! ❤️ word count: 1403 warning(s): jealous joe, age gap (reader is 20 and joe is 26), insecure joe because i can't make knies actually flirt with his best friends gf, not proof read notes: this might be horrible im so sorry !! i don't see joe as the jealous type so this was a little hard but i'm trying to build my writing skills so i like the challenge. i had to add a few more tropes to make it flow better if that's ok. i hope you enjoy !!! xoxo

"Joeyyyyyy !!" you whine, sitting with the car door open, "Will you carry me? My heels are open toed and...there's snow".

It's the Annual Toronto Maple Leafs christmas party at John Tavares' home in Oakville. Joe insisted you come meet the team a bit more formally now that you two had officially been dating 6 months. You knew all their wives and girlfriends well, bonding over the joys and hardships of having a partner in pro-hockey. This was your first time meeting the actual players, though. And, boy, were you nervous.

"Sweetheart, its like 30 steps," Joe stands by your open door, in the falling snow. You pout and say "You hate me".

"I don't hate you. Actually, it's the opposite. I love you. Now, come. You know how Aryne feels when people are late".

You huff and grab your purse, jumping out of Joe's blue porsche and into the snow covering JT's driveway. Joe grabs your hand and you wander up to the front door together before you stop, suddenly. "Ok, remind me, who am I meeting tonight?". Joe sighs. You have been through this at least 5 times today.

"Y/N, you're gonna be fine. No reason to be nervous," he smiles with kind eyes. "I'm not nervous. I just want to remember who everyone is". Joe nods again and starts, "You know JT and Mitchy. Remember from the gala we went to a few weeks ago?". You nod and he continues, "You'll meet Autson, Willy, Domi, McCabe, Reavo, Mo, Lorentz, Stolie and Kniesy. They will love you, baby. Trust me."

You nod again and smile. With that, Joe rings the doorbell. JT answers the door, "Hey, guys, how are you doing? Come on in". You step into the beautifully decorated foyer of the Tavares home and hear chatter coming from the other room. JT takes your coat and you see his wife, Aryne, beckon you over into the kitchen.

You and Joe walk into the other room, soon realizing you were the last to arrive. Everyone is there. Holding drinks, talking and laughing together. It feels nice to be part of something like this. Dating Joe has been an adjustment but when you see all your new friends and the community you have built, it makes it all worth it. The girls come over and hug you, complimenting your dress or hair, while the guys exclaim at Joe's arrival, teasing him about his lateness. Domi even makes a comment on how he "cleans up real nice" and winks.

Joe makes eye contact with your from across the room and makes a motion for you to come closer. You excuse yourself from your group of friends, who have changed the subject from your outfit to what Aryne should get her mom for Christmas.

"Hi," you wave at all the new people staring at you. "I'm Y/N-". "Oh we know who you are, love, don't worry," McCabe cuts you off and smiles. Stolarz laughs and continues, "Yeah, Woller doesn't shut up about you". You smile and look over at Joe. He's blushing like crazy. "It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N," Domi give you a toothless grin. Auston shakes you hand, "Welcome to the team".

Time has gone by and you decide staying sober was not fun whilst everyone else is drunk. You get yourself a "christmas martini" (something Reavo's wife, Alanna, brought) and sat down in the living room. Joe was outside talking to Willy and Mo. He looked content from what you could see, smiling and laughing with beer in hand.

"Mind if I sit?"

You hear someone ask, snapping you back to reality. You look up and see the one and only Matthew Knies. He smiles down at you and you nod, "Of course". He nods and takes a seat beside you. "I have been meaning to talk to you. You're Y/N right?" he looks over, as if to make sure. You nod and smile, "That's me!".

"Great. I can't believe it took this long for us to meet. Joe never stops talking about you, you know. Always going on and on about how lucky he is to have you and what not. But I wanted to get to know you. From you. Tell me about yourself, Y/N. I wanna know why Joe loves you so much."

The way he speaks comes for a place of genuine interest. Joe talks about Knies a lot at home. They are close and you can tell how much they care about each other from what you see in games and what Joe tells you. You both fall into easy conversation and... let's just say, Joe takes notice.

The back wall of JT's home is lined with big glass sliding doors leading to the backyard. The guys standing outside have perfect view of everything going on inside, like it's one massive movie.

Joe looks over his shoulder. You're normally okay in social situations but with the amount of new people here, he wanted to make sure you were still having a good time. He finds you sitting over by the fireplace and at first, doesn't even notice Kniesy sitting there beside you. He is just taking in how beautiful you are. The way your smile lights up the room. The way your eyes sparkle. Everything about you reminds him why he fell in love with you in the first place. You are truly an angel on earth.

Suddenly, he looks to the left of you and sees Knies. Now, Joe isn't a possessive man by nature. The oldest of three children meant a lot of sharing as a child. But you sitting there with Knies makes him nervous. And for good reason. Knies is an attractive man who is much closer in age to you than he himself is. The age difference between the two of you never really bothered him before but it did now. Not that he was insecure about anything. He was just... worried. That's allowed, right?

"Hey, Knies, enjoying my girlfriend's company?" he says as he walks up to you. It's not a confrontational comment but he wants it to take him aback a little bit. You look up a little confused and Knies nods, "Yeah, she's amazing, man. Can't believe you bagged her". He nods and takes a seat next to you. "Isn't she?" he responds, putting his arm around you and kissing your cheek. "Joey, stop that. I'm trying to talk to Kniesy," you giggle as his stubble tickles your face. Joe nods and smiles, "Just reminding him you're mine". He the turns to his best friend, saying, "Don't get any ideas, kid," before getting up and walking away. It's a subtle act but he knows he got his message across. Even if he had nothing to worry about before, he definitely has nothing to worry about now.

You notice no animosity between Joe and Knies through the night and by the time you're ready to head out, they are giggling like school girls over stat they looked up on Joe's phone. You walk over and lean down to whisper, "Time to go, Joey,".

The process of leaving is easy. Everyone says good bye, you hug everyone and you all exchange the customary "we have to hang out more" before heading to the car. Joe hands you the keys because he's too drunk to drive and you get settled into the driver's seat.

Before you leave the driveway, you ask, "Joe, what was all that about with Knies earlier?". He looks over at you briefly and then down at his hands, like an ashamed child.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just felt... weird. It's no mystery there's a bit of a gap between our ages and Knies is so much closer in age to you than I am. I got nervous you'd realize how old I really am and leave me for... a younger model like him," he looks back up at you towards the end of his explanation.

You sigh and reply, "Joe, you're not old. 26 is not old at all. And even if our age difference bothered me, which it doesn't, I wouldn't leave you for Knies. Trust me, if we don't last forever, I won't date another hockey player ever. I love you, Joe. Don't worry. I'm yours."

He smiles and kisses your hand, "That's right, baby girl, you're mine".

[sombrashe]

X's & O's ∿ Thanos

notes/content toxic established relationship (can be read as platonic or romantic)

red flashes over your face and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you had worked with thanos to promote his music, working closely with him as his social media manager. you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your skull. ripping off your O you hand it to the guard. placing the X over your chest you join the cheering group. you wanted out so badly, you were tired and hungry and so fucking scared. scared of losing your life, scared of watching those you've learned to care about die, scared of thanos and that namgyu guy.

last game was terrifying, you were left behind as thanos chose namgyu and left you in the arms of another terrified person. straightening up you don't dare look to your right and keep your eyes forward watching the counter tick up. it took another hour before player 001 got to vote. you were stared at the entire time. once the lights come back on you're left standing in the middle of the X. looking down you simply lose yourself in the fear for a moment before raising your head and choosing a bed. climbing to the top bunk you make a fort up there out of extra mattresses. with a view of whoever coming you felt a little bit safer.

lights out. you start shaking again and hug your jacket around you a little tighter. it doesn't take long before a shape is making its way up the stairs. you're expecting him though so you tense up. he stops a few inches away from your position before sinking down facing you. he's practically situated on your lap and you have to stretch your legs to accommodate him.

"Why did you do it, huh?"

"It's wrong, this is all wrong. I want to go home Su-bong, i need to get home."

"You could have made more money before leaving, all we needed was you."

"The money is enough, I'll get by. I always do."

"I know your debt, that's not even enough to pay me back."

you stare at him in the darkness, your feelings evident on your face. blinking you pick at your lips. he reaches up and removes your nails from your skin. you attempt to pull away from him but his grip only tightens. so tight you can feel his manicured nails digging into your wrist. hissing you kick out but with his weight over your legs you're unable to do much. Letting go you massage the angry marks on your skin.

"I missed you during the last game. I'm glad you made it alive."

"You abandoned me. Don't act sweet right now. What do you want? You wouldn't be here unless you had a reason."

"You need to vote to continue the games next vote. On your first day here you got to know half the people here and by the end of the first game you knew their names."

"It seemed like a team game."

"Exactly, if you vote one way so will they."

he pokes his finger against your chest and it hurts. swatting his hand away you mutter something about manners and he laughs. it's dry and lacking humor. you suddenly feel ice slide up your spine.

"I'm not doing that."

"You know what happens when I don't get my way, right? Remember?"

"I am not voting to continue the games, Su-bong. Do whatever you need to do but leave me out of it."

he suddenly straightens and all you feel is white hot fear as he grabs your chin. fingers press into your skin until he has a strong grip against bone. you whimper and wrap your hands around his wrist. you've seen him get this way before but never with you. your yanks against his forearm do nothing to lessen the pressure.

"Do not fuck with me, we all need more money. See that."

he throws your face away from him. you grip at your face pain shooting through your jawline. slipping out of the fort he goes back to his side of the room. blinking, you rub at the harsh tears ripping themselves from your tear ducts. you don't get any sleep that night.

[starmieknight]

Stars Align

Dipper Vs. Manliness

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1, Headhunters Pt. 2, Headhunters Pt. 3, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 1, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 2, The Inconveniencing (previous)

Special thank you to @disregardedblasphemy for beta reading! You're awesome <3

At one point, Stan had a bit of a crush on Lazy Susan. She’d been real cute and pretty sweet back when he first met her and she hadn’t been too upset about what happened to her eye. As the years passed, she was just one of the few single people left in his age range. That he actually liked, anyway.

Who knew so many people got married when you got old!

Now with his baby face in the way, Stan just didn’t feel right flirting with her like he normally did.

Using his ‘charming young man’ powers on her though―!

“You do split plates, right?” Stan asked, ducking his head shyly and peering up at Susan through his lashes. “We’re just poor, hungry kids on a budgeted allowance…”

Susan laughed and pinched his cheek.

“You’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? We always make an exception for Big Stan ― I can do it for Little Stan, too!”

Stan chuckled awkwardly, ignoring the ‘daddy’ comment, and offered the waitress a blinding smile.

Somewhere behind him, he heard a shutter sound and some muffled giggles.

“Tambry!” Mabel whispered, practically climbing over the back of the booth to speak to the girl on the other side. “Send me that for my scrapbook!”

Stan did his best to ignore that. And the fact that Tambry was still taking pictures of him when he wasn’t looking. Instead, he just pushed on with his order, ignoring Mabel’s protests that she wanted pancakes.

He could have made those himself if she'd wanted them so much!

Dipper, however, was more sympathetic to his sister’s plight.

“Don’t worry, guys!” he said confidently. “Pancakes are on me. I’m gonna win them by beating that manliness tester!”

“Manliness tester?” Stan asked blankly, remembering the machine that had been in the diner forever.

“Beating?” Mabel asked incredulously before bursting into laughter.

And Stan might have laughed with her if he hadn’t seen how scrappy the boy really was,  getting into fist fights with psychotic nine year olds and breaking into buildings. Still, the boy was built like a noodle and not in the typically stocky manner most Pines boys were. He didn’t even have their trademark nose, his mother’s genetics probably the cause for that. The color of it was right on point, though.

“Hold on there, sweetheart.” Stan put a hand on Mabel’s head to quiet her down, but wasn’t quite able to stop the snort that came with the mental image of Dipper beating the tester. “Your brother’s not as geeky as he seems, sometimes. I wanna see him try! Besides, it’ll be a good chance for me to see where he is before I start yous two on boxing lessons!”

“You’re going to teach us how to box?” Dipper asked skeptically.

Stan’s grin widened and he flexed his arms, thick cords of muscle visible even under his baby fat.

“You’re lookin’ at the best boxer from Glass Shard Beach! Goldmill Gym’s got all my old trophies lining the walls!”

At least, it had forty years ago. Old Man Nicky was surely dead now and probably had been pissed enough to throw out Stan’s medals when he’d disappeared into the night. Besides, the man had been friends with Pa ― Stan wouldn’t be surprised if the medals were melted down to make gold chains.

You’re a bum, Stanny. But you can take a hit and give ‘em back twice as hard.

Mabel latched onto Stan’s bicep, giggling wildly as he curled his arms a few times, threatening to drop her back into the booth.

“Hmmm,” Dipper hummed, eyeing Stan’s arms thoughtfully. “...okay. I mean, how different could it be from kickboxing?”

Stan grinned at him. “That’s the spirit, kiddo! Now ― go win us some pancakes!”

Dipper beamed at him.

It didn’t last long, however, the boy failing miserably and running out in the face of Manly Dan showing him up. Stan didn’t think the man meant anything by it. He probably just wanted more pancakes or was trying to feed what he thought was a bunch of hungry kids. He was just like that sometimes. Blunt and lacking tact.

Stan was the same.

He looked between his plate and the empty doorframe, conflicted.

Was he supposed to chase after the kid or give him space so he could lick his wounds?

Moses, he missed Old Nicky ― the man would already have a diet planned to help put muscle on the kid or have him chasing chickens and bench pressing hogs. He had a weird way of training his boxers, but he’d made Stan quick on his feet and able to find a weak spot on guys with more fat rolls than average.

“He’ll be fine,” Mabel rested her hand gently on Stan’s arm. Her smile was familiar, but it didn’t really meet her eyes. She almost looked guilty.

“Of course, he will.” Stan smiled back at her half-heartedly. “He’s a Pines. We always end up alright.”

Mabel didn’t look convinced, but she let it go for a moment. She began eating her pancakes, but some of her enthusiasm was lost.

“... do you think I shouldn’t have laughed at him?”

Stan winced, hearing the hurt in her voice. “Probably didn’t help…”

Mabel deflated, losing some of her usual vibrancy. “He’s really serious about becoming a man. Growing chest hair and wishing his voice would stop cracking…”

“People make it into a big deal.” Stan shrugged, remembering how he’d waited for those body changes a lifetime ago. There’d been the awkward days with acne and voice cracks, not to mention realizing he could have a crush on nearly anyone who showed him a smidgeon of positive attention. He could only sympathize with how Dipper was feeling, especially with Stan around in his current state. The kid was probably wondering when he was going to start shooting up and filling out like his uncle. Shermie and Alec were both built big as well. Dipper probably was feeling left out. “He’s gotta figure out his new place and his body’s going through some… changes. Speaking of, please tell me your mom has had The Talk with you…”

Mabel snorted, a gleam returning to her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Grunkle Stan.” she snickered. “Mom told me everything to expect last year.”

Stan sagged in relief. “Just let me know if you need… any feminine products. Or chocolate. Or just tell Wendy and I’ll give her the money.”

Moses, was it hot in here or were his ears on fire. He never expected to have this conversation. Why did it have to be so awkward?! He’d had a mother, for crying out loud ― and a girlfriend who’d been very vocal about what cramps and mood swings did to her.

Mabel just laughed at him again, bouncing back to her normal self with an ease he envied.

“Do you think he’ll be alright once he’s done with puberty?” she asked thoughtfully, trying her straw wrapper into a neat bow. “I mean, you seem alright going through it a second time.”

Stan snorted at that. “Nah, I was pretty much set as soon as I hit sixteen the first time. The only thing that stuck around for a while was the acne. That didn’t really go away until my thirties.”

“I thought that went away after you turned twenty!” Mabel exclaimed, her face twisting with horror.

“Nope!” Stan propped his chin up on his hand, leaning close to give her a good look at the bumps on his chin. “Maybe it won’t be so bad once you get over the hump of the hormone changes, but pimples’ll pop up at random forever! But your face thingies helped mine the other day.”

“We should get you some pimple patches for the little ones!” Mabel suggested, poking a red spot on Stan’s cheek. He hissed at the little jolt of pain it caused and she pulled her hand away, expression apologetic. “Ohh! We should do another spa day!”

“Spa day?” a somewhat familiar voice asked from behind them. Tambry popped up over the back of their seat, her eyes fixed on her phone. “Count me in.”

“Me, too!” Wendy announced, sliding into the booth across from them. “We should get Stan some better clothes, too. He’s been wearing the same pair of jeans for weeks.”

“I wash them!” he protested indignantly.

“You’re gonna wear them out like that.” the redhead pointed out easily. “Also, you smell like an old man. Switch your cologne.”

“I don’t wear cologne to work. That’s just aftershave.” He rubbed his chin with a grimace, resenting the fact that his facial hair had been so patchy as a teenager. It looked weird if he didn’t shave every morning. Back when he was old, his five-o’clock shadow had been fine enough for tours ― now he just looked stupid.

“We should get him a jacket that fits!” Mabel suggested, bouncing in her seat with her thoughts a million miles away. Probably lost in some mental mall. “And a comb!”

“I wouldn’t mind getting some gel,” Stan admitted, running a hand over his unruly curls. “S’how I used to wear it.”

Wendy tilted her head, considering his face. “I can see it. Like those guys in Grease.”

Stan snapped his fingers and pointed at her with a grin. “Exactly!”

“Let’s go to the mall!” Mabel shrieked, overcome with excitement. She shook Stan’s arm, moving her body more than his bicep and looking like she was being electrocuted as a result. Or like a fish flopping on the floor of his boat. “Mall Day! Mall Day!”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” Stan groaned.

“Nope!” Mabel and Wendy wore identical expressions, like lionesses about to pounce on some poor, old zebra. Tambry offered a thumbs up from the other side of the booth wall. ____________________________________________________________

“This was a terrible idea.”

Now, Stan was no stranger to shopping with a teenage girl. He’d dated Carla McCorkle for a while before she was stolen away by that mind-controlling musician. He was quite familiar with wandering from store-to-store while a girl ooh-ed and ahh-ed over things without making a single purchase.

He hated customers who did that and he hated being part of a group that did that.

“Grunkle Stan, this is an essential part of shopping!” Mabel punctuated her statement with a pointed slurp of her iced coffee. De-caf, of course. She was already energetic enough.

He responded with a pointed sip of his own, secretly conceding that iced coffee was good. Especially all dolled up with fancy syrups and whipped cream.

Way too expensive, though.

“C’mon, man.” Wendy rolled her eyes fondly and threw the jacket she and Tambry had been fawning over at his face. “Chill out and leave everything to us. All you gotta do is put on what we tell you and say if you like it or not.”

“I was promised hair gel.” Stan muttered petulantly. He felt the soft lining of the jacket, an old-styled bomber like the one Ford had worn as a kid, and noted that it was soft. “Can’t I just pick some jeans and go?”

“Grunkle Stan, you need to learn about style!” Mabel exclaimed, stars in her eyes. “Now that you’re not a gross old man, this is the perfect opportunity to work on my ‘Convince Dipper To Wear More Than One Outfit’ powerpoint!”

Stan stared at her blankly. “What’s that got to do with dressin’ me up?”

“Because!” Mabel exclaimed exasperatedly. “You guys look a lot alike now! Once he sees how good you look, he’ll be inspired to do the same!”

“She has a point.” Wendy shrugged. “You’ve had more women hitting on you these past few weeks than you’ve had my entire life.”

“You’re totally hot.” Tambry confirmed flatly, briefly moving her phone away from her face to show them some kind of website. There were a lot of pictures of him and it made his skin crawl. So did the comments, most filled with the little picture things from Mabel’s ‘motivational sticker pack’.

“Ugh!” Stan shuddered at the girl’s comment and threw his hands up defensively. “I― I don’t even know what to do with all that. It’s… It’s weird.”

His eyes darted around in search of an escape route and he bolted out the door with the jacket in tow. He liked it, but he’d never admit it. Or pay for it.

Stan yanked the tags off, casually dropping them in a nearby trashcan before shrugging the jacket on. Ooooh, it had nice big pockets. Perfect for shoplifting!

“Well, if it isn’t Stanley Pines.”

Stan stiffened at the voice behind him, mind racing as he tried to place it. 

Don’t panic, you’ve been introducing yourself as Stanley the Second for weeks! This is just the con beginning to pay off…

He turned, a conman’s smile curling his lip, before a shocked scream left him.

“My eyes! My poor eyes!”

It was improbable. It was impossible! It had been forty years!

But against all the odds, there was a familiar face from Glass Shard Beach in Gravity Falls.

Old Man Nicky stared at him, his expression as sour and unimpressed as ever, another generation’s worth of wrinkles making him look like a particularly grumpy bulldog. He was still wearing the same old red sweater over a gray tracksuit, thin wisps of white hair peeking out from beneath a black beanie.

It really was his old boxing coach. Really old boxing coach.

“Shouldn’t you be dead?” Stan asked before he could stop himself. A cane shot out and clocked him in the shin, making him yelp and topple over. Ugh, just like the old days.

“Shouldn’t you? Your ma told me you crashed your car into a ditch and burnt up. Guess you just got mixed up in some freaky magic shit out here. Probably somethin’ ta do with that brother of yours.”

Stan winced at the relatively spot-on observation, rubbing his leg as he looked up at Nicky. The man had shrunk over the years, but he never lost the ability to make Stan feel like some scrawny little kid.

“What’re you doin’ in Gravity Falls of all places?” he asked, not bothering with how the man knew about magic. You couldn’t live here without tripping over a gnome every other Tuesday.

“Got myself a grandson who married a selkie. Their kids like the cold and I’m mostly retired. Thought I’d spend the rest of my twilight years with them.” Nicky shrugged before piercing Stan with a stern look. “Thought about lookin’ ya up, but you were too busy runnin’ around and pretendin’ t’ be Stanford. You’re a bum, Stannie. Your impersonations suck.”

Stan straightened up with a frown, properly offended now.

“I’ll have you know,” he sniffed, tucking his hands behind his back and looking down his nose at the old man. His gruff voice smoothed into something more sophisticated and refined, the Jersey accent melting away like butter beneath a summer sun. “That I still do a fantastic impersonation of my brother… Hypothesis! Quantum physics! Exponential!”

Nicky chuckled at him, wrinkled face sagging as it softened fondly.

“That’s our Stanford.” he sighed, turning away. “Now, c’mon back to the gym and fill me in on what happened. Y’not doin’ this without good reason. Yous two hated being mixed up.”

Stan hesitated, looking over his shoulder for the girls. They were a few stores back and a few bags heavier, their eyes scanning the mall in search of him.

“I’ll have to raincheck ya on that, old man.” he hurried to say, voice returning to normal and pitched low. Secretive. “I got a couple of add-ons who aren’t exactly in on it. They can’t know.”

Nicky frowned at him, tilting his head so he could squint at the girls as they approached. Mabel had spotted them, her face lighting up as she rushed forward with a grin.

“Well,” Nicky chuckled as she caught up to them. “This one looks just like you. Braces ‘n all. She box any?”

“Grunkle Stan’s gonna teach me and my brother!” Mabel proclaimed proudly before blinking in confusion at the old man. She shrugged and offered Nicky her hand. “Hi, I’m Mabel! Are you one of my uncle’s old man friends?”

“More like his uncle.” Nicky clasped her hand gently. “You can call me Papa Nick.”

“Okay!” Mabel agreed before Stan could protest.

“Oh, c’mon old man!” he huffed. “You never let me call you Uncle Nick!”

The old man smacked him with the cane again. “That’s cause you’re a bum, Stannie. ‘Sides ― Filbrick woulda had kittens if he caught you boys goin’ soft on me.”

“Wait, you knew Grunkle Stan as a kid?!” Mabel gushed, her hands squishing her cheeks. “Oh Em Gee ― you’re like, super old! Do you have pictures of baby Stan?!”

“Course I do!” Nicky snorted. “And all’a his old trophies. Tell ya what ― yous guys come for dinner and I’ll dig ‘em out.”

“Nicky!” Stan hissed, panic seizing his chest.

The old man bopped him with the cane once more, gently this time.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, kid.” Nicky gave him a pointed look. “I’ll keep all your embarrassing secrets in storage. For now.”

Stan held his gaze a moment longer, praying that the old man would keep his word, before nodding stiffly.

“Fine. Where’re ya stayin’ these days?”

Nicky smirked, smug with victory, and shoved a business card into Stan’s hand.

“Six o’clock. Come to the back door and don’t be late or you’re washin’ towels.”

“I don’t work for you anymore, old man!” Stan shouted after him as he and Mabel rejoined the rest of the girls. “I ain’t washin’ nothin’!”

Nicky just laughed at him and continued on his way. ___________________________________________________________

“What happened to you, kid?” Stan asked in bewilderment as Dipper trudged into the house, twigs and leaves sticking out of his hair.

The boy sighed and flopped down on the floor by Stan’s armchair.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” the boy mumbled into the carpet.

“Good.” Stan said awkwardly, trying to think of a subject change to get out of another ‘feelings’ talk.

“It’s just these half-man, half-bull humanoids were hanging out with me…” Dipper blurted out suddenly, shooting up with an annoyed expression.

“Here we go.” Stan rolled his eyes. He frowned as the boy’s words reached his brain. “Wait, you talkin’ about those dumb Manotaurs? Those guys are jerks!”

“I know, right?!” Dipper threw his hands up, relieved to have another person on his side. “They wanted me to do this really tough, horrible thing ― but it just wasn’t right. So, I said no.”

The boy deflated, looking as lost as Stan felt after spending too long reading his brother’s journals.

Stan reached down, easily knocking Dipper’s hat off, and ruffled the boy’s tangled curls.

“You were your own man and you stood up for yourself.” he said firmly. Dipper looked up at him in surprise. Stan grinned at him. “You did what was right even though no one agreed with you. Sounds pretty manly to me, but whadda I know?”

Dipper smiled at him, regaining some of the life that he’d lost during his all-day workout. His brows raised as he took in Stan’s new jeans and T-shirt, the outfit capped off by his new bomber jacket.

“Hey, you look good. I like your jacket. And you finally got hair gel?”

“Thanks.” Stan thumbed the collar of his jacket, remembering the one Ford had worn when they were kids. Which, now that he was thinking about it…

“How’s about you go get ready?” Stan nudged the boy with his foot, toes digging into Dipper’s ribs and making him giggle. “We’re headin’ to a friend of mine’s for dinner and you stink.”

Dipper’s face fell. “Do we really have time for me to shower? I― I mean, is it really necessary?”

“Yep.” Stan said firmly, nudging the boy again. “Go ― use soap this time.”

The boy groaned dramatically, but headed upstairs anyway.

He could hear Mabel in the attic, singing along to some pop song at the top of her lungs. Once he heard the shower cut on, Stan bolted for the vending machine.

It was risky as hell, but he’d done worse lately.

All of Ford’s old things that might have given away his identity were stored in the basement. Six-fingered gloves, old home movies and pictures ― they all lived in boxes in the observation room. Along with a trunk of keepsakes that Ma had sent after Pa died and the pawnshop closed. She’d moved in with Shermie those last few years before her death and wanted ‘Stanford’ to have all of the twins’ old things. Probably in hopes he’d use them with a son of his own one day.

And in the trunk, there was a little old jacket with patched elbows that had seen the boys through many an adventure.

Ford’s bomber jacket.

Stan lifted it out of the trunk reverently, like one would a precious artifact. It was soft beneath his fingers, the fabric worn and the fur lining a bit matted. The elbow patches were fraying and it smelled of mothballs and old books.

He buried his face in the lining with a sniffle, wondering why he and Ford had ever drifted apart in the first place.

Stan knew he was a screw-up, but he still had no idea what he’d done to make Ford want to move across the country to get away from him.

“When did you stop liking me, Poindexter?” he sighed, tucking the jacket beneath his arm. He checked the security cameras before heading back upstairs. He’d had plenty of time to get the jacket and hide it in his room before Dipper and Mabel were ready for dinner.

No worries.

____________________________________________________________

“Uh, did you just see that, dude?” Soos whispered to Wendy, his eyes wide with shock.

“Secret door to a secret basement in the Mystery Shack?” Wendy confirmed, her normally cool facade beginning to crack. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Good to know.”

[reggies-eyeliner]

i love kindness i love kind people it's the greatest strength ever i love people who don't judge others and i love kindness because it is so hard to grasp and is far less tangible than being rude and takes a herculean amount of effort and it is hard to be which is why

i love kind people because they know that it gets mistaken for weakness and they know it can hurt them but they also know that being kind in a world that feels like it isn't is the greatest sign of rebellion and yeah kind people i love you

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[trickbxbes]

ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ꜱᴛᴀʏ

[ᴅᴀᴇ ʜᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Summary: After the Mingle game, your friends win the vote and get to go home. You reunite with Dae-Ho on the outside and finally get to go on that date.

Warnings: Eventual smut, friends to lovers speedrun, fem reader, switch! Dae-Ho, handjobs, mutual blowjobs, fingering, p in v, safe sex, I don’t know what happens to them right after they vote to leave. Only what happens after,

Word Count: 3,769 words

You couldn’t believe it, was it too good to be true? 51 votes for X, 49 votes for O. Everyone around you on your side cheered, wept with joy and relief. The nightmare was over. And you wouldn’t go home empty handed either. 300 million was enough for you to clear your debt, finally start over.

And maybe, not alone.

You feel arms wrap around you tightly, shaking you like a Ragdoll. It was Dae-Ho. The two of you had formed a bond since being in here. The friendship was instant. His bright and bubbly personality pulling you in like a moth to a flame. Only, there was no pain. He looked out for you every step of the way. You were inseparable. The two of you even arranging a date of sorts once on the outside. You remember how he asked too, the boy was nervous, prepared to laugh the idea off painfully if rejected.

In disbelief, you slowly wrap your arms back around the man. Everything fell silent to your ears. Dae-Ho screams out with joy alongside his mentor, Jung-Bae, before looking at you again. He had the brightest of grins on his face. He cupped the sides of your face briefly, so happy, he could kiss you.

Could.

He lets go of your face after tenderly gazing into your eyes. You step forward and tightly hug him close, finally allowing everything to process. You were going home. You were safe.

Dae-Ho’s also overwhelmed with emotion, embracing you close. His hand gently pets the back of your hair, pressing his head against it. His heart was soaring with relief, and care, knowing you’d be okay.

“We did it…”

He murmured. You’re barely able to hear him through the cheers. “Yeah… we’re going home.” You chuckle weakly.

But the world wouldn’t grant you a moment of peace, no, not for a second.

“Please line up, you will be escorted out in an orderly fashion the same way you were brought in.”

It all came crashing down. You were leaving, now. You and Dae-Ho break apart quick at the realization. Guards were already pouring in. There’s so much you wanted to say, goodbyes you had to give! Team O did something helpful for once though, they bought you time as they started to argue against this.

“W-we’re leaving now…?!”

You see more guards taking control of the situation. People were being separated. You look to Dae-Ho, who was just as unsure and panicked. But then he visibly lightens up with realization.

“The korean barbecue place I told you about! Meet me there in two days! Noon!”

He tried to reach out to you, but the crowd began to push. You felt your anxiety beginning to slow at his request. You didn’t have his phone number, or his address, hell, you didn’t even know what area he lived in, but that was a start. You nod vigorously.

“O-Okay! I’ll see you there!”

A relived smile befalls Dae-Ho, knowing he at least got that out before he’s ushered away.

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⋆ ★

Two days passed, and you were at the place to be. It was a tough, settling back. You swore you’d never see the light of day again. Waking up on a cold street while half naked wasn’t exactly a pleasurable experience. Neither was choking out a card in your mouth, but alas. But you got your shit sorted, and now you were here.

Only issue now was, you didn’t know what time to arrive! You wanted to play it safe and meet a little early, wearing your best. You didn’t exactly know how much effort to put into this. What do you wear to something like this? Was it a date? Or a meetup with a crush? Or, a meet with just a friend?

You wait, and wait. An hour passed, then two.

You looked like a madman from how much you kept looking about.

But then it hit you.

What if he doesn’t show?

What if he didnt feel the same?

What were you thinking? That a man you knew for three days would have such strong feelings for you? Maybe you got your hopes up. Maybe he was too busy for you. You frown to yourself, your breathing getting faster. From where you sat, you hugged yourself. You were a miserable sight.

But then, like an angel’s choir, you hear,

“(Y,n)!”

It was slightly distant. Your head snapped up at the all too familiar voice. Making their way through the bustling crowd, was Dae-Ho. His hair wasn’t tied in his usual top knot, but down, letting the fluff bounce freely. The once unforgiving sunlight was now shining on the man like a star, only making him glow. He maneuvers his way through the mass and pops out holding a bouquet of ruby red roses. He pants, standing in front of you with that nervous smile of his.

“I-I’m so sorry, were you waiting long? There’s two different ones here. The one I went to was all the way across— a-and I waited and waited before I realized you were probably here! And—“

You’re unable to stay away any longer. You stand up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close. Dae/Ho stops his rambles, instead, tucking an arm around your waist and holding you close, his other arm holding the flowers. “A-are you okay?” He asks with concern. You smile ear to ear, chuckling.

“I’m just really happy to see you, Dae-Ho.”

Your response made the boy sigh in relief, happy he didn’t upset you.

“I am too, really. I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

You’d pull away, still smiling joyously. Finally, you address the flowers in his hands. “Oh my gosh…!” You take them, giddy as a kid on their birthday. Dae-Ho smiles brightly at your enjoyment.

“I hope they’re not damaged or anything… I kinda sprinted everywhere to make it here.”

He confesses. You don’t notice a single flaw, but you also don’t care to notice. “I love them.” You solidify your appreciation. Dae-Ho looks up at the restaurant sign and back to you, licking his lips a moment. “You ready to go inside?” He sticks his hand out for you to take. Your heart felt full, and you take his hand. Butterflies fluttering along in your stomach.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

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┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

The day didn’t end there. Dae-Ho took you out to see all the sights there were to see in his town. The two of you hand in hand, throughout the day, you didn’t drop your roses. From checking out different shops, interacting with street performers, and getting some sweet treats. Life hasn’t been so terrible since you both no longer had terrible debts to worry about. Even if it was blood money, and came with such terrible trauma, at least you wouldn’t have to go through it alone. You had someone to lean on through it.

Now, you two ended up at one of the hotels. You were sitting outside on one of the fountains, scrolling through your phone with laughter. “Aww, this one’s cute!” The two of you were admiring photos of today. You had taken a special liking to the man giving a cute peace sign over some deserts. Dae-Ho huffs, but couldn’t get his grin off his face.

“You don’t think I look dorky? I can take a more manly photo for you if you want.”

To prove his point, he’d flex his arm muscle. You giggle, patting his shoulder before you simply rest your hand there.

“I think you look perfect.”

Something about the way you said it, made Dae-Ho gulp subtly. His dark eyes gazing at you with awe. To calm his quick beating heart, he deflects off of him.

“I… wanna do this again, sometime.”

The ball was now in your court. Your heart skipped a beat. You look down a little bashfully.

“Y’know, I was kinda afraid for a while you didn’t… Y’know… That maybe it was just the heat of the moment from the games.”

Dae-Ho’s eyes widen. He lets out a dry chuckle, casting his eyes away. “Time went by differently for me there, I think. It honestly felt like I was there with you for a lot longer than it actually was.” He says truthfully. His exterior that was once shining, was now shy. You don’t say anything, allowing him to continue.

“Every second I spent with you, is all I wanted to do with my time.”

He looks back to you, his words carried a weight heavier than any boulder. You bring your hands to your lap, setting the roses aside. A crooked smile forms on your face as you shyly glance at your thighs.

“Well, it’s good to know I’m not crazy then… because I felt the same.”

When you look back to Dae-Ho, you see him gazing with an expression you’re unable to pinpoint. A mixture of adoration, and yearing. His pupils dart toward your lips, and then back to your eyes. He gulps again, unable to meet them for long. But you got the hint. You purse your lips, and gently cup his face. It regains his attention immediately. He’s close, you can feel the heat from his skin, his breath on your hand. He looks at your lips again, and leans in. You meet him halfway, and the two of you share a loving kiss. His lips molded with yours almost perfectly, like that’s where they were meant to be.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

The next thing either of you knew, you’re trading kisses as Dae-Ho tries unlocking the door to his apartment complex. Your kissing was passionate, forward. All of your want and need was transferred which each tongue exchange.

As soon as you’re both inside, the man shuts the door and you press him against it, not breaking the kiss for a sweat. He moans softly against your lips, his tone urging his desire forward. Your kiss grew sloppier, but consistent as you run your hasty hands under his shirt. Feeling his toned stomach, you press your body against him further. You drew another moan out of Dae-Ho, the male gasping and breaking the kiss so he could say,

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t e-expecting company so…ngh…”

You were barely listening, leaving pecks down his neck. Little nips to his skin lead to full love bites. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since I watched you play gongi…” You leave a trail of hickeys on his once clean neck. Dae-Ho brings his finger to his lips, biting down to muffle his whimpers. “W-what do you mean?” He gasps as you release his skin with a ‘pop.’ You meet his eyes, lust shadowing yours.

“‘Wanted to feel those hands on me.”

You take his hands and place them on your hips. He meets your mouth again, his tongue intertwining with yours in a messy dance. His hands run up your sides and then down to your ass, finally finding a resting point to the back of your thighs. “Fuck…”

For once the male was happy to live in a studio. You push him onto the bed, letting him scramble to take off his shirt. You slowly slide down to the ground on your knees. He gazes at you with such kindness and appreciation. He wanted you to feel it, somehow. There was a sea of emotion he was withholding, but you saw lust was the strongest in the waves.

“(Y,n)…”

You look up to him with doe eyes, sending rushes of hunger through him. “Can I…?”

His breathing was uneven, trembling, he nods.

“P-please…” He pulls his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free. He was already half hard, and it only grew as you close your hand around it. You admire its length, its width, and most of all, you feel the way it throbbed for you as it grew in your hand. You gave it a few test pumps, making your man bite his lip to stifle a whimper. Once he was fully hardened, you sped up your pace. Dae-Ho whines out, ever the vocal one. But it’s not like you minded, in fact, you encouraged it.

“You’re being so good for me, Dae-Ho…”

Hearing your praise, the male lets out another moan, his eyes closing. You feel his member twitch in your hand. “Oh? You liked that didn’t you? Wanna be called a good boy?” As soon as the words left your mouth, Dae-Ho moans loudly. He looks down at you with half lidded eyes.

“Oh shit…”

You lower your mouth over his throbbing member, keeping your touch ever so soft. The man leans back, looking to the ceiling. “Oh fuck…!” He grips the bedsheets beside him. For a brief moment, he nearly grabs your hair, but he stops himself. Instead, he gently runs his fingers through your hair. The way he held back to be a gentleman, it only made you wetter. You use one hand to pump his base while you sucked on the rest. Your other hand slid down under your bottoms, rubbing your already wet cunt. When Dae-Ho notices, his face somehow flushes more. “A-are you…?” To answer, you hum an eager note on his cock, sending vibrations down it.

“Fuck~! Ah…I—“ He’s unable to really keep his train of thought on track as another low groan rumbles through him. “Oh my God—“ He just mindlessly babbled on as you took him deeper. He’d involuntarily jerk his hips upward, and you felt the tip reach the back of your throat. Your gag made Dae-Ho immediately check in, concerned. “I-I’m sorry! Are you— fuck!”

But you didn’t care much, speeding up your motions. You take him in even deeper, now deep throating him. It hurt a little, but you cared more about the sweet tune of Dae-Ho’s whines. It might be your new favorite song.

“(Y-Y,n)…! Keep going like that and I’m g-gonna…I’m…!”

He was close, you could feel it. And so you continued your usual motions before showing special attention to his tip, his most sensitive spot. Dae-Ho grit his teeth and cried out, his back arching as he came. His shadow looked glorious, the way it mirrored his position and his gasps. It was almost like a painting, a work of art.

White hot strings enter your mouth, and you swallow it all. You blink up at him, removing your lips and clicking your tongue. Dae-Ho’s expression was priceless, his vulnerability was shown, the walls were down. “(Y,n)…” He cups your face and pulls lightly, a silent gesture he wants you to rise. You do so gracefully and stop. Seeing as the man was basically naked for you, you thought you should return the favor. Dae-Ho watches you slowly strip, undoing your outfit completely. He shakily sighs,

“You’re so beautiful…”

Once bare, you meet him in a ravenous kiss. Your hands hold the sides of his jaw as he wraps his arm around your waist. He whimpers against your lips, rolling you over so you were on your back, not breaking the kiss for a second. Dae-Ho gently takes both of your hands and pin them above your head, one hand having a grip on your wrists. You lament, feeling more aroused in such a helpless position.

He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting you both. He admires you, your returned flushed face staring back at him lustfully. He leans back down, kissing down your neck. His touch was so sweet, feather light. Every kiss was gentle, as if you were delicate. He kissed down your body, stopping at your chest. His eyes meet yours again, asking for permission. You nod, gulping subtly. He’d continue, muttering,

“You deserve to be worshipped.”

He trails his tongue around your nipple and plants a peck on the top, before taking your breast into his mouth. Somehow, he knew the exact way to worship you. He sucked at the perfect intensity and rhythm. With his other hand, he massages your other breast. You loved the way he treated you.

“Dae-Ho…”

It sent waves of pleasure up your body. He started to work his way down, reaching your drenched pussy.

“God, you’re soaked…”

His tongue meets your dripping hole, running through your folds. You cry out, gripping his hair lightly. “Dae-Ho…! Fuck..” You feel his tongue swirl around your clit. The wet muscle circling as he sucked on the pearl. He started eating you out like he was damned starving. You massage his scalp, gripping every now and then. But then, you feel a wave of pleasure shoot through you as Dae-Ho inserts a finger. “Fuck…!” You whine, your eyes now shut. Sucking on your clit, he adds another, pushing them both in and curling his fingers. Your back arches as you’re shocked from too much stimulation.

“I-It’s too much…! D-Dae-Ho! Fuck. T-too m-much!”

“You can take it.”

His immediate response makes your orgasm race forward faster than you can blink. He continues pushing his fingers in an out of you, curling them each time and abusing your G spot. You cry out his name as you finish all over his face, unable to warn him in time. But he just laps up your juices like any other meal.

Dae-Ho looks back up at you with dreamy eyes. He’s met with your panting and flushed expression. You reach your hands out, trying to beckon him closer.

“Dae-Ho… j-just kiss me please!”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as he slams his lips on yours, crawling back atop your body. You grind against his now hard again cock, moaning against him. Soft hums and grunts come from his throat and vibrate on your skin. You pull back, needing to feel him inside of you for certainty. “D-do you have a condom?” Your question catches him off guard, but it’s a necessary one. Dae-Ho blinks and nods. “Yeah— one second.” He kisses your cheek, making you smile as he scrambles to grab one.

As soon as he rolled one on, he’s back on top of you, gazing into your eyes once more. You swear you could see an entire night sky in his dark orbs. “Dae-Ho…” You kiss him again, he more than happily reciprocates. He breathes in through his nose, breathing in you. He lines up his cock with your entrance, pulling back to cup your face.

“Do you want this?”

Consent is a beautiful and mandatory thing. He caresses your cheek with his thumb. You nod, resting your hand atop his with a kind smile.

“I want you, Dae-Ho.”

Dae-Ho leans in and kisses you softly. His lips softly trying to tell you, ‘I’ve got you.’

He slowly enters you, his hands now gripping your hips. You grimace, adjusting to his length. Dae-Ho intertwines his fingers with yours on the bedsheets, giving a reassuring squeeze. His eyes were clamped shut, soft shudders escaping him as he continued in. “Fuck… (Y,n)…”

He bottoms out, and you’re a whimpering mess. Dae-Ho, despite being in a similar position, slants over and kisses up your neck. His lips comforting you generously.

“That’s it… that’s my girl.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah… yeah, fuck, your girl.”

He starts to move slowly, his breathing shaky from ecstasy. He mewls in your ear, biting his lip at an attempt to keep quiet. But you weren’t going to let that slide. “…Wanna hear you… wanna hear how good you feel.” You order. Dae-Ho’s hips stutter before he speeds up his thrusts. He lets out a louder whimper, you match his vocals, gripping his shoulders.

“D-Dae!”

“(Y,n)…!”

He holds you closer to him, his thrusts getting faster and deeper. His body was warm. You could feel his muscles tensing with every push and movement.

“Tell me I’m yours,”

He starts, his voice dripping with need.

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

The vulnerability in his tone was enough to make you tear up. He was opening his heart out to you, leaving himself exposed. You wrap your arms around his back, covering his open wound with your own body. You cradle his head in your hand.

“I’ll stay, you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Your words of affirmation carry in the air. Dae-Ho hugs you even tighter. “(Y,n)!” He goes at an incredible speed, pounding into you. You claw at his back, needing the support. “Dae-Ho!” You wail, overwhelmed with pleasure. The male moves from your neck to rest his forehead against his. You feel every bit of love he was pumping into you. It’s a different level of intimacy, truly seeing each other’s soul like this.

You feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach. “Dae-Ho~! I’m close!” You moan, moaning in rhythm with each thrust. Dae-Ho nods frantically. “M-me too! Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…!” He’s unable to control his blabbering mouth. “Fuck. (Y,n)—you’re so good. So good. Need you… fuck…gonna—“

With that, you both come undone together, your moaning screams mixing together. Dae-Ho nearly collapses on top of you as he catches his breath, his face resting in your neck again. You pant, running your fingers through his hair as you both close your eyes.

He’d roll to his side, pulling out of you and disposing of the condom, tossing it into a trash can by his desk. He lays back down, resting on your collarbone. His arm snugly tucks around your waist.

“Did you mean it… what you said?”

Dae Ho’s question was so innocent, full of hope. He looked up at you expectantly. You feel yourself melt under his gaze, smiling softly and cupping his cheek.

“Of course I did. I’m yours.”

A satisfied smile forms on his face and he rests back down, closing his eyes with contentment. The two of you play together for the rest of the night. The last thing you’d hear before your slumber was a small mutter from your boy.

“I’m yours.”

[timmydraker]

When patrolling together, Red Robin and Robin get cornered by the Joker.

They aren’t too worried at first considering he’s seemingly only got a dozen men and others are on patrol, but then they see what the men are holding.

Joker had made a new Joker venom and they are seemingly the test subjects.

Damian is instantly ready to fight, but Tim is running the odds through his mind and it’s not good. They have a good chance of getting out, they are trained after all, but not without one or both of them getting the venom and who knows how long it will take to make a cure of a new concoction.

Tim can’t let that happen.

Jason, Barbara, himself…

Damian will not be added to the list of people of people tormented by this mad man.

With coms being out of reach as the two went into a private channel so they wouldn’t get in trouble for bickering, and their every move being watched, Tim had few choices.

Tim swallows and pushes Damian behind him, standing tall with his chin up even as his hands start to shake.

Damian starts to protest but Tim is speaking first, “Let him go and you can-… can have JJ back.”

The way Joker starts to grin even wider, slow and painful, is the most unnerving sight Tim has seen in a long time.

Joker laughs loud and starts clapping.

“Oh joy, oh joy! This is more fun than I thought! Always so good at surprises, JJ!”

His laughing doesn’t stop as Tim shakily turns to his little brother, who’s almost eighteen but still little even as he grows taller than him, and holds onto his shoulders.

“Robin, I need you to listen to me. You have to let me go with them or you’ll get hurt, okay? You have to promise me you won’t follow us because I can’t let you get hurt like me and-“

One of the goons takes the chance to knock Robin out and lets him slump into Tim’s arms.

Just as he begins to panic about them hurting Damian or bringing them with him, Joker comes up behind him and wraps an arm move his shoulders, “Don’t worry about him, JJ! Little Robin number… whatever, will be just fine! Batsy will find him and take him back to his nest, while we…” - Joker leans in so he can whisper in his ear - “have a little family catch up!”

Tim nods, not finding it in himself to smile or play along yet, but keeping up his end of his offer.

It takes one day of shocks after his forced make over for him to settle back into the role he learnt the first time. Last time it took two and half a weeks for him to give in and learn his part properly, and then a few more days before he was rescued, but this time it feels almost natural as he puts on a big grin and starts a familiar giggle.

He thinks of Damian, who may have been turned into Joker Junior Junior or some other absurd name, and tells himself it’s worth it to protect him from any more trauma.

Tim is kept for a month, playing house with a mad man who makes rants about JJ’s mother leaving him for a woman and being tortured every time he doesn’t laugh quick enough or seems just a little distant.

When he’s found he doesn’t realise. He’s just sitting there at a dinner table with straps on the chair keeping him down. He’s laughing loudly, knows if he stops he’ll be hit or shocked or forced to drink some kind of toxic chemical until he pukes up blood. He can’t stop, because Papa will be mad and he’s scary when he’s mad and mama isn’t there anymore.

When he process the change of scenery he finds himself in a hospital bed in the cave.

JJ and Tim are so blurred into the same person that when he sees Damian he has no idea who he is at first. He almost expects someone younger, the little boy who first showed up, because that’s the little boy he gave himself up for.

But when Damian stared back at him and starts to tear up Tim finds himself remembering who he wants to be.

He pulls his little brother into his arms, jostling Alfred the Cat, and sobs into his hairline while ignoring the green in his periphery and praying he doesn’t start to laugh.

He fails, but Damian doesn’t give up on him.

[themultifanshipper]

Poker? I hardly know her!

You and Oscar stared at Lando, who was peeling his shirt off before anyone had even put any chips on the table.

Maybe Lando didn't understand the rules of poker after all...

Warnings: Not quite proofread I just needed to get it out of my drafts before people started bringing pitchforks to my house, some of this is insane, i'm warning you, brief poker jargon, fucking on a jet, oral sex, male and female recieving AND giving, canonically bisexual landoscar, a bit of a humiliation kink, strip poker turns dirty very quickly, bad dirty talk, cum, Lando is a TEASE and a WHORE, finger sucking (inspired by something someone actually did to me once)

“Lando why are you taking your shirt off?” Oscar frowned in confusion.

“This is strip poker. You bet your clothes, don't you?” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You'd known Lando a long time, and he was a bit of a dim bulb (affectionate) sometimes.

Oscar you'd only met when he became Lando's teammate, but you got along like a house on fire, and despite you not knowing each other very well, one of your favourite bonding activities was making fun of Lando.

“Lando!” you laughed “that's not how it works. You bet your clothes but you only take them off if you lose”

He looked offended at the implication that he didn't already know that and tried to defend himself, but he had a slight tint of red quickly spreading over his cheeks.

“I knew that! I just think it's better to put my bets on the table is all...”

You and Oscar dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Okay whatever you say, it's not like you'd be keeping it on long anyway” you teased and winked at Oscar.

“Oh fuck off!” he gave you the middle finger before picking up his cards that Oscar had been dealing. “and since when do you play poker? You’ve never mentioned it to me...”

Oscar shrugged, picking up his own cards.

“You know what boarding school is like. There's nothing to do except play poker, and ... uhh...” he trailed off and you looked at him questioningly.

“Well, you know. It's boring” he said quickly, his cheeks going slightly pink as he avoided your gaze.

Lando narrowed his eyes at him. “Yeah, I do know what boarding school is like. But we never played poker”

“Okay what did you play then mister wise guy?” Oscar's tone was off, like he was trying to accuse Lando of something.

Lando's face went blank, and you could tell he was going through the options one by one, not wanting to say any of them out loud.

“I can't remember?” he tried.

Oscar scoffed in disbelief and you decided to intervene.

“Right, are we playing then?”

“Gladly” they both muttered in sync.

You weren't naive. You knew exactly what boys got up to in boarding schools.

You'd been to an all girls boarding school yourself, and had your fair share of... experiences.

But both of them seemed to be a bit embarrassed about theirs as they settled in their seats like big birds that had just gotten their feathers ruffled.

The game went just about as well as expected.

Lando ended up in his boxers after only 3 rounds, while you and Oscar hadn't taken a single item of clothing off.

His nipples pebbled in the cool conditioned air, and you could see goosebumps erupting all over his skin.

Your eyes scanned his thighs briefly and you gulped. They were thick, and he was in tight black boxers that really didn’t leave much to the imagination.

As enticing as the sight was, it didn't help your concentration.

Oscar was once again dealing cards, and you noticed him side-eyeing Lando a couple of times.

“Are you sure you're not cold, mate?”

Lando shivered but didn't relent in his stubbornness.

“No I'm fine. Besides, I am determined to beat at least one of you”

“You'll be fully naked long before that happens” Oscar chuckled but it sounded hollow.

You also forced out a laugh. Lando naked was the last thing you needed right now.

But with an ace and a jack in your hand, how could you possibly lose?

And you were right. Lando could go all in if he wanted to (and he did) but on the table were a king, a queen, and a ten. And he was a terrible bluffer, he was way too cocky.

Oscar had already folded so it was up to you to get Lando's pants off.

You put your cards down face up.

“Sorry mate, I've got a straight” you said in mock- sympathy. “Someone's getting naked and it ain't me”.

You smirked at him.

“Not so fast” Lando tutted at you and showed his cards.

He also had an ace and a jack.

But they were the same colour as the cards on the fucking table. All spades.

He had a royal fucking flush. The highest hand possible.

Oscar gasped softly.

“Well well well, looks like someone else is taking their shirt off!”

You felt your face heat up immediately.

You only had a T-shirt on.

As in, you only had a T-shirt on.

“Ummm...” you flushed and picked at the edge of the table. “about that...”

You looked at Oscar but quickly averted your gaze when your eyes met.

“What's the matter?” he asked curiously.

“let’s just say that if I take my shirt off, Lando won't be the only one with his tits out”

Comprehension dawned on their faces and they both went fully red.

It all became suddenly very real. It was all fun and games until one of had to actually do it.

“Uh- well you don't have to, you can uhh” Oscar stuttered his way through an excuse “you can take your pants off or- or something. Or like just not do it. It's just a game. No pressure to actually get naked”

You looked at Lando and he smirked.

“If you're not uncomfortable with it you can do it if you want. We're all adults here, we've all seen boobs before, no biggie”

You hesitated. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever you're comfortable with!” his voice was weirdly high pitched but he nodded reassuringly.

You worked up the courage and grabbed the bottom of you shirt, slowly lifting it up over your head.

When your vision became unobstructed again, Oscar was staring at a spot on the ceiling, and the Lando's smirk had been wiped clean off his face.

Despite being your best friend for a long time, he'd never seen you topless, even though (and he would never admit this out loud) he'd fantasized about it many times.

You could tell he was struggling to maintain eye contact with you, his eyes glazing over slightly.

You chuckled nervously.

“It's okay you can look. Like you said they're just tits, right?”

Oscar glanced at them quickly, then did a double take and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly and looked away again.

Lando’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but his words died in his throat as he also just stared unblinkingly.

It was objectively quite funny how you'd rendered them both utterly speechless.

After a good thirty seconds though, it started getting a bit too weird.

“Okay this is getting creepy now, do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No!” they answered wayyy too quickly. “Its fine we're just a bit surprised is all”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay horndogs, shall we get back to it, then?”

They nodded almost absentmindedly, and Lando dealt the cards.

“I'm now determined to get Lando naked to take some of the attention off of me, now” you joked lightly and the other two laughed.

The atmosphere became a bit less charged over the course of the next round, but Oscar was seemingly very much off his game suddenly, because he lost two in a row.

In the name of fairness, he took his pants off, and his black hoodie, so he was still left in a T-shirt that thankfully hid the raging boner he was currently trying to make go down with sheer force of will.

He had an almost naked Lando inches away on his right, and a magnificent pair of breasts in front of him.

How was he supposed to concentrate in these conditions? He was living a bisexual's wet dream.

But he was determined to win, so he dealt the cards.

Lando was getting a bit antsy. He was already pretty turned on by the sight of you, but now, he couldn't stop staring at Oscar's thighs.

They were so thick. He wanted to touch them. Maybe give them a lick and a bite.

His fingers twitched on his lap, where he was trying his best to hide the ever growing problem in his underwear, that was unfortunately not covered by a T-shirt.

But he wanted to touch Oscar's thighs. He wanted to feel the thick muscles under his large hands.

“You doing okay there, guys?” you asked.

The two men in front of you were unconsciously squirming in their seats, doing their best (and failing) to not check each other out.

“Yeah, i'll start at 200” Oscar said, taking a single chip from his enormous pile.

It wasn't his turn, but it didn't matter, none of you were truly focusing on the game right now.

“I'll go all in” Lando said, voice cracking.

Oscar sucked in a breath.

“You sure you want to do that? You've only got one chip left”

“Absolutely” the older man said defiantly, his eyes dark as he stared at you.

A shiver ran down your spine. He was going to lose, you could feel it. He was going to lose and he was going to get naked.

“I'll fold” you muttered.

It was all between Oscar and Lando, now.

“I guess it's all in then”

The atmosphere was tense once again as Lando showed his cards first.

Full house. There was no way Oscar hadn't been bluffing.

“I think you're gonna need to take your shirt off mate” he tried to sound cocky but it wasn't very convincing.

A slow smirk took over Oscar's features, and he grinned evilly at Lando.

He slapped his cards down, face up, and the colour drained from Lando's face.

“Four of a kind. Mate”

You glanced down at Lando's boxers.

There was a small wet patch forming at the front.

Looks like being humiliated was getting him going.

You decided to try and save his dignity, but you knew Oscar had also noticed, if the way he was currently looking at Lando like he wanted to eat him, was any indication.

“You don't have to Lando, if you don't want to”

But his mind seemed made up and he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers.

“No it's fine, a bet is bet” he was very red in the face, but true to his word he pulled his underwear off and let it drop to the floor under the table.

You didn't look. You swear you didn't look.

“You can look guys” Lando said, you could hear the cockiness dripping from his words. He knew what he looked like naked.

“Nope, I'm good” you replied. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, nah I'm good. Shall we keep going?” he asked you with a forced smile.

“Yep, deal the cards, then”

Oscar picked up the cards and Lando whined.

“Wait, I wanna keep playing too” he sounded so pathetic. It made your thighs clench together.

And Oscar noticed.

“Lando you don't have anything left to wager. What are you going to bet? Your skin?” he mocked, but Lando didn't miss a beat.

“I’ve got a mouth. And I don't have a gag reflex”

Your jaw dropped and Oscar choked on his spit.

“Jesus, Lando” you breathed.

But the silence that followed was deafening as everyone seemed to be thinking about it.

You looked at Oscar, who looked at Lando, who looked back at you defiantly.

Well, it seemed this game was taking a turn. But you weren't complaining, and neither was Oscar.

“okay” you and Oscar said at the same time.

He dealt the cards, and you had a particularly shit hand so you folded, almost dissapointed that you wouldn't be winning Lando's mouth.

Lando refused to fold, despite having a shit hand as well, so he lost, naturally.

“So uhh... you want to uhm-“ Oscar gestured vaguely in front of him.

You took pity on Oscar. “You going to put your mouth to good use?” you translated for him, and Lando nodded.

“Yup” he chirped, and promptly dropped under the table. He was so eager, you were starting to think he'd planned this all along, and was losing on purpose.

But no, he wasn't that manipulative.

You could barely see what was going on but Lando dragged Oscar's underwear down and groaned.

Then it was Oscar's turn to let out a pathetic little noise as Lando's head sank downwards.

“Lando, fuck-“ he squeezed his eyes shut, the sudden heat of Lando's mouth overwhelming him. “Your mouth, Jesus Christ”

The sight was quite erotic, Oscar fingers threading through Lando's hair as the obscene sounds sounds of his mouth working Oscar's cock filled the cabin.

Oscar looked down at him with a furrowed brow and his mouth open in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You certainly couldn't. Oscar had always seemed quite reserved to you, yet here he was, getting deepthroated by your friend, in front of you.

“God, yeah. Take it. Good boy” he lifted his hips to meet Lando's mouth and Lando moaned wantonly around him.

One of Lando's feet knocked into yours under the table, making you look down.

You gasped in shock. Not at how fucking round and peachy his ass looked, although that was worth noting, no, what turned your world on its axis was the fact that Lando was wearing socks.

The absolute whore.

Turns out he was that manipulative.

“Oscar!” You called, and he looked back up at you with lidded eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Lando's still wearing his fucking socks!”

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he looked down to where Lando's face was red and covered in drool and tears already.

“Lando...” he let out a shuddery moan “If you wanted us to treat you like a little slut, all you had to do was ask.” He cooed, stroking Lando's tears away.

The older man suddenly did something with his tongue that made Oscar throw his head back and tighten his hold in Lando's hair.

“Christ Lando, where did you lean to do that?” he panted, and Lando pulled off of him for a second to reply.

“Boarding school” he rasped, voice hoarse.

You and Oscar chuckled breathlessly. Of course, stupid question, really.

It didn't take Oscar very long to reach his end with how Lando was swallowing around him, throat tightening rythmically.

You were very wet. Rubbing your thighs together wasn't quite enough so you pulled down your own pants and underwear and slid a hand down your body.

The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. You spread your thighs, which caught Oscar's attention, and he gasped and unexpectedly came with a shout down Lando's throat.

Lando, the whore, swallowed every last drop.

His hair was a mess and he turned around, wondering what Oscar was staring so intently at.

The sight of your legs propped up on the table and your fingers pumping in and out of you as your cunt drooled onto the seat made his mouth go very dry.

He crawled over to you under the table and pulled your hand away.

His hungry gaze made your thighs clench, but his large hands came to hold them open as the flat of his tongue licked a long stripe up your soaked folds.

Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair, like Oscar had, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

“Pull it” Oscar said and you glanced at him before doing as he said.

You tugged sharply and the reaction was immediate.

The moan that came from Lando's mouth was downright pornographic, and you grinned, pushing his head down to where you were dripping onto the seat.

He wasted no time lapping up every drop and soon he slid a finger inside you, and then a second one, crooking them upwards and making you see stars.

Turns out Lando wasn't just good with his mouth, his hands were also a goddamn gift to humanity.

By the time you'd stopped shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Oscar was hard again and languidly stroking himself at the sight of you.

Lando stood up, his back cracking after being hunched over for so long.

You properly took him in for the first time. His cock was big, bigger than you'd expected, and his thighs were covered in what you assumed was precum.

You instinctively wrapped a hand around him and swiped your thumb over his tip.

He hissed and batted your hand away.

“I want to see you two fuck” he said, as if that wasn't a totally insane thing to say.

You looked at Oscar, who didn't look opposed to the idea, then back up at Lando.

“What about you?”

He grinned at you mischievously.

“I'm going to watch. And then I'm going to come on those lovely tits of yours”

You blinked up at him and he bent down, sliding a hand under your jaw to tilt your head up.

He stopped, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke.

“It does hurt a bit. But I really, really want to see my teammate fuck my best friend.” He hooked his thumb over your teeth to press on your tongue, opening up your mouth for him.

“And besides...” he continued “I like it when it hurts”

He pulled away, leaving you completely breathless and more soaked than you'd ever been in your life.

He helped you lie down on the table, and Oscar spread your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your slick covered thighs.

He slid himself through your folds, rubbing your clit and you whined pathetically.

He decided not to tease you too much, and slid home in one go, knocking the wind out of you.

You all moaned at the slick sounds coming from where you and Oscar were joined, and he quickly picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours.

Lando may have been good with his mouth and hands, but my god, Oscar knew what to do with his hips. Your g-spot didn’t stand a chance.

His abs flexed with every expert roll of his hips, one of his hands planting itself next to your head to hold himself up, the other wrapping around one of your thighs to pull you back against his thrusts.

Whatever poker chips were left on the table were digging into your back but you could barely feel them, you were high on the feeling of Oscar splitting you open on his cock.

Lando couldn't help himself, he turned your head to the side and tapped your lips with his pointer finger.

“Open up, darling. I want to see what you look like with a mouth full of cock”

Yes the line was pretty cheesy, but you stuck your tongue out anyway, and he grinned as he slid his tip along it. He shuddered at the stimulation, and gave an experimental shallow thrust into your mouth.

“Such a good girl... like you were made for it weren't you? Getting stuffed full of us” his fingers danced along your collarbones and you shuddered at the touch.

“So responsive as well...” he looked at your breasts, heaving and bouncing with the force of Oscar's thrusts. He pinched a nipple harshly and you cried out, voice muffled by his cock. “Would you believe me if I told I've dreamt about these quite a bit...”

You rolled your eyes and gave him the middle finger, but he just grabbed your hand and stuck said finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks at the lewd action, and then he put a second finger in his mouth and shoved them all the way back.

You were going to combust on the spot.

When he pulled his mouth off it with an obscene pop, he looked down at you condescendingly, your mouth still firmly wrapped around his leaking cock.

“Why don't you put those fingers to better use, and make yourself come with them”

You did as you were told and pressed them to your clit, rubbing very slow circles.

Oscar was losing his sanity watching the two of you interact. The bickering, and acting as if he wasn't there, was making him hornier than anything and his hips stuttered as he felt the beginnings of an orgasm creeping up on him.

“Oh come on” Lando drawled, picking up the pace of his own hips “You can do better than that”

You rubbed faster, matching the rythm of his thrusts, and very soon you were thrown over the edge of extasy, back arching and toes curling as you clenched around Oscar.

Lando desperately wanted to hear your pretty moans so he pulled out and finished himself off by hand, on your tits, as promised.

Oscar collapsed on top of you, groaning into your neck as his hips stuttered to a halt, and you could already feel his cum seeping out of you onto the table.

You panted into the now stifling air of the cabin, wondering how the hell you got to this point in your friendship.

Oscar lifted himself off you, and glanced at Lando's cum now smeared over the both of you.

He leaned down and licked a stripe up one of your breasts, over a nipple which made you gasp, and then pulled you in for a filthy kiss.

Fuck it was good. Oscar was a really good kisser apparently. The taste of Lando just added to the depravity of the scene.

Lando felt a tad jealous at that moment. He'd lusted over you for years, and he hadn't even kissed you yet.

You and Oscar parted for breath and you saw the look on Lando's face.

“Oh for god's sake, come here!” you made grabby hands at him and he gladly leant down, capturing your lips in a passion filled embrace, his hands going to cup your face as he deepened it.

The cleanup was a nightmare, but you couldn't walk off the plane naked and covered in cum, so you managed.

You did the best you could with bottles of water and some towels, before getting dressed again, just as the pilot announced he was beginning his descent.

“Well what did we learn today, kids?” you said cheerfully once the three of you were on solid ground “Boarding schools teach you very important life lessons, and Lando-“ you slapped his chest playfully “is much better at poker than he lets on!”

The three of you giggled like children, rolling your suitcases on the tarmac of Nice airport, not hearing the pilot mumbling to himself behind you.

“And I learned today that private jet cabins are no where near soundproof....”

Taglist: @teamnovalak

[luckystay]

𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣

words count: 7k

Relationships: bsf!bangchan x fem!reader x bsf!hyunjin

Synopsis: after years of friendship, you're shocked to learn your best friends aren’t gay, and are in-fact attracted to you.

Warnings: smut with plot, mutual pining, threesome (mfm), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), heavy sexual tension, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light manhandling, praise kink, mild jealousy, mentions of insecurity, alcohol consumption, and swearing.

(Minors, please do not interact!)

A/N: again did not proofread, also i'm having so many issues writing smut any advice can help.

Chan was the first person I spoke to on my first day at university. I still remember the way he approached me—this energetic, smiling guy who exuded confidence, a kind of confidence I couldn’t even imagine having.

At first, I thought maybe he was just being polite, trying to make the nervous girl feel more at ease. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that wasn’t the case. Chan wasn’t just friendly—he had this way about him that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. It wasn’t something he tried to do; it just came naturally. We clicked immediately, and by the end of our conversation, I found myself laughing at his jokes, sharing stories, and feeling a sense of comfort I hadn’t expected.

After that, I didn’t really have to make any more friends. Chan took care of it. He introduced me to his friends, and just like that, I found myself a part of a whole new group. Felix, with his sweet nature and infectious laugh, Jisung, who always seemed to know how to make me laugh no matter how exhausted I was, and then there was chan’s roommate Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was different. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intimidated at first. He was... well, he was hot—too hot, actually. Tall, effortlessly cool, with an air of quiet intensity that seemed to draw people in. Honestly, I thought he was out of my league. Every time I tried to talk to him, I’d stumble over my words, my face flushing under his steady gaze. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious whenever he was around, like his confidence only highlighted how awkward I felt.

But all that changed when I started spending more time with them. Chan, being my main friend, and Hyunjin, being his roommate, meant I was bound to be around him a lot.

To my surprise, I started to see a different side of Hyunjin. The intimidating vibe? It wasn’t really who he was. He had a sense of humor—quirky, odd even, but adorable. Once he felt comfortable around me, he let his guard down, and I found myself enjoying his company more and more. He wasn’t the aloof, untouchable guy I’d once thought he was. He was just Hyunjin—relatable, funny, and incredibly easy to talk to.

All throughout university their dorm room became my unofficial home. i’d spend hours there—study sessions that turned into late-night talks, long gaming marathons, and movie nights that always ended with one of us falling asleep in some awkward position on the couch.

We became this inseparable trio. We went through heartbreaks together, laughed over drunk nights, celebrated wins, and comforted each other through the lows

Slowly but surely, my feelings for Hyunjin evolved. He wasn’t some crush anymore—he was my best friend. Over time, I stopped thinking about him in that way entirely.

I knew both Hyunjin and Chan were hooking up with people now and then, but we had this unspoken rule in our friendship: unless it was serious, we didn’t talk about it. That part of our lives stayed private, and I was okay with that. It wasn’t something we needed to discuss, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.

Eventually, though, I settled on an assumption that made everything easier. The way Hyunjin and Chan were with each other, so effortlessly close and affectionate—it just made sense. They had to be gay, right? That explained the mystery, the privacy, everything. And honestly, it was fine with me. I wasn’t interested in either of them like that, and they didn’t seem interested in me. Our bond worked perfectly the way it was.

Or so I thought.

Now fresh out of uni, we found ourselves navigating adulthood together. Jobs, bills, responsibilities—it was a new world, but at least we had each other. Moving in together felt like a natural extension of our bond. Splitting rent made financial sense, but beyond that, we weren’t ready to let go of the dynamic we’d built.

The house wasn’t huge, but it had just enough space for the three of us to feel at home. It was chaotic at times, sure—Hyunjin’s half-finished art projects scattered across the living room, Chan’s endless work-from-home setup that seemed to expand every week, and my collection of books and mismatched mugs taking over the kitchen. But it worked. It always did with us.

living together now was... different. They weren’t just my friends anymore; they were men. And men like Chan and Hyunjin? They were impossible to ignore.

Physically, the changes were obvious. Chan’s broad shoulders and steady presence commanded a room effortlessly, while Hyunjin’s sharp jawline and lean, athletic build seemed designed to draw attention. They moved with purpose now, their every gesture confident and deliberate. But it wasn’t just how they looked—it was how they treated me.

In university, we were a chaotic trio, all equals in the chaos of growing up. But now? Now, they treated me like I was something precious.

Chan, always the dependable one, had become a protector in ways that felt heavier, more deliberate. He’d steady me with a hand on my lower back when we crossed busy streets, or hold open doors without a second thought. When we walked home late at night, he’d position himself closest to the curb, glancing over his shoulder every so often to make sure I was okay.

Hyunjin, for all his teasing, had a subtle gentleness that made my breath hitch. He’d help me carry groceries without being asked, his hand brushing against mine as he took the heavier bags. When I complained about how sore my shoulders were after work, he didn’t hesitate—just walked up behind me, warm hands massaging out the tension.

their touches were what really undid me.

It wasn’t like before, when their hands would land on my shoulder or ruffle my hair in passing. Now, every touch lingered. Chan’s hand on my waist as he guided me through a crowded room felt possessive in a way that sent shivers down my spine. Hyunjin’s fingers brushing a stray hair out of my face felt more intimate than it should have been.

And it wasn’t just the touches—it was how easily they did it, how natural it seemed for them to manhandle me in small ways. Chan would reach over me without warning, his chest brushing my back as he grabbed something off the top shelf. Hyunjin would wrap an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer on the couch as he teased me about some show we were watching.

It was maddening. I’d tell myself it didn’t mean anything, that we were just friends. But the truth was; having two ridiculously attractive men treating me like this? Protecting me, touching me, looking at me the way they did? It was impossible to ignore the heat that simmered beneath the surface.

And the worst part? They didn’t even seem to notice what they were doing to me. To them, it was all so casual, so natural. But to me, it was intoxicating. Every brush of their hands, every low chuckle, every whispered “you okay?” left me more confused and yearning than ever.

Tonight, I’d slipped into a cream-colored sweater, paired with a black mini skirt that showed off a teasing amount of leg. It wasn’t like I’d dressed up for any particular reason; Felix and Jisung were coming over for dinner, and I wanted to look nice. Simple as that.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

The kitchen was filled with the rich scent of garlic, onions, and herbs. hyunjin stirring something on the stove. His broad shoulders filled out the fitted black shirt he was wearing, and the veins in his forearms flexed as he moved the spoon in lazy circles. When I entered, the sound of my footsteps seemed to grab his attention. His eyes flicked up, scanning me from head to toe before settling on my face. It was quick, but it wasn’t subtle. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped, the look lingering just a moment too long on my legs before lifting back up. His lips curled into a smirk, just a little, and I felt my heart race.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too casual.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck as I shrugged. “It’s just dinner.”

I crossed the space between us, standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His broad frame cast a shadow over me, and I instinctively tilted my head back to look up at him. He was taller than I remembered—taller, broader. The way his body seemed to fill the space made it hard to breathe for a moment.

“Thought I’d see if you needed help,” I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice was a little shakier than I wanted. I knew I had no idea how to cook, but standing this close to him made my mind scramble for anything to say.

“Help?” he repeated, his smirk deepening, his voice almost teasing. “You don’t even know where we keep the knives.”

“Not the point,” I shot back, hoping my words sounded more confident than I felt. My hands were already a little clammy, and my stomach twisted in knots.

Before I could say anything else, I felt a warmth at my back, and the unmistakable presence of Chan, who had entered quietly. His hand brushed lightly against the small of my back, his fingers just barely grazing my skin, and I froze.

Chan was  wearing his usual jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clung to his chest in ways that made it hard to look away.

“Stealing her already?” Chan’s voice was light, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something I couldn’t quite place. His fingers lingered for a second longer, just enough to make me painfully aware of how close he was. I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

“Wasn’t stealing,” Hyunjin responded, still holding my gaze, his voice casual but there was that underlying heat again, like he knew exactly what was going on. “She just knows I’m the best cook.”

I shifted slightly, crossing my legs without thinking, trying to hide the sudden flutter of heat I felt coursing through me. Chan’s hand didn’t leave my back, his touch light but somehow heavy all at once. I tried to focus on the conversation, on the joke they were making, but it felt almost impossible. The tension in the room was thick, and it felt like both of them were acutely aware of how close we were, of the way my body responded to them.

“Don’t steal her for yourself just yet,” Chan teased, a playful glint in his eyes. “We still need her to taste-test.”

I managed to force out a laugh, but it felt weak compared to the way my body was reacting to their proximity. The casual banter, the touches, the way their eyes lingered—everything felt too intimate. It was as if the friendship we’d built over the years was beginning to blur, and I didn’t know how to pull away from it.

This is not how friends should feel towards each other right?

Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and chatter as always, you were seated between Hyunjin and Felix, with Chan directly across from you, you couldn’t escape the charged atmosphere no matter how hard you tried.

The first real jolt came when you reached across the table for the salt shaker. It had been sitting just out of reach, and without thinking, you leaned forward to grab it. Before you could touch it, two hands moved toward it simultaneously—Chan’s from across the table, and Hyunjin’s from beside you.

Hyunjin’s arm brushed your shoulder as he leaned over, the scent of his cologne filling the space between you. He reached it first, but the motion brought him close—too close. You were painfully aware of the way his body crowded yours, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the table for a moment.

“Got it,” Hyunjin said softly, his voice carrying an almost teasing edge as he passed the shaker to you. His fingers lingered just a second too long against yours, and when you looked up, you were met with his dark, unreadable gaze.

Chan cleared his throat, drawing your attention. You glanced across the table to see him watching the exchange with an expression that was... difficult to place. There was no annoyance there, just something thoughtful, like he was curious.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly adjusting in your seat and trying to shake the warmth creeping up your neck.

As the meal continued, the little moments piled on. Hyunjin’s knee brushing yours under the table, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair when he leaned over to speak to Felix. Chan’s gaze, heavy and unwavering, each time you glanced up from your plate. Even Felix, with his sweet, innocent charm, seemed to sense the tension in the air, his eyes darting between the three of you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Finally, Felix leaned in closer, nudging your shoulder gently. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Do you still have that cream? The one for sore muscles? My neck’s been killing me.”

The request caught you off guard, but you nodded quickly, grateful for an excuse to escape. “Yeah, I think it’s in my room. Come on, I’ll grab it for you.”

You pushed your chair back, standing up and smoothing your skirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the way Chan’s gaze followed you, lingering just a beat too long. Hyunjin’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to read something in your movements.

The moment you stepped into your room and closed the door, Felix turned to you with an expression you didn’t entirely expect. His usual warm smile was replaced with something sharper, something knowing.

“Alright,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Spill.”

You frowned, genuinely confused. “Spill what?”

Felix arched a brow, his lips quirking into a slight smirk. “Don’t play dumb. What’s going on with you three?”

Your stomach flipped, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “Nothing’s going on. What are you even talking about?”

Felix’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of gentle concern. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” you asked, pulling open a drawer to search for the cream.

Felix sighed, stepping closer. “The way they look at you. The way they act around you. It’s like... it’s so obvious. I don’t know how you’re so clueless.”

You froze, your hand hovering over the drawer’s contents. “Felix, they’re… you know. They’re gay.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Felix let out a low, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer. “you’re so far off.”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to face him fully. “What do you mean? They’re gay. I’ve known them for years, Lix. They’ve never once mentioned being into girls. Not once. And the way they are with each other…” You trailed off, your voice losing conviction under Felix’s knowing stare.

“They’re not gay,” Felix said gently, his tone almost pitying. “Bisexual? Yeah, sure. But gay? Not even close.”

The words felt like they didn’t compute, like Felix had just told you the sky was green. “No way,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not,” Felix said, his voice soft but firm. “Look, I’ve known them longer than you have. And trust me, if you paid even a little attention, you’d notice the way they look at you.”

“What are you even talking about?” you asked, your chest tightening. “They don’t look at me any differently than they look at anyone else.”

Felix’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? They’re constantly looking at you like you hung the moon. Hyunjin can’t go two seconds without finding some excuse to touch you, and Chan? The way he watches you when you’re not looking? It’s... intense.”

You felt heat rush to your face, your heart racing as you tried to process what he was saying. “That’s just how they are. They’re affectionate guys. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Felix tilted his head, giving you a look that was both skeptical and amused. “Affectionate, sure. But this? This is different you cant convince me otherwise. I’m not saying they’re in love with you or anything—” he paused, reconsidering. “Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to sit down on the edge of your bed. “Felix, this is insane. They’ve never said anything. Never even hinted at anything.”

Felix sighed and crouched down in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees. “They’re careful, okay? They don’t want to scare you off. But as someone who’s been watching this dynamic for years, I’m telling you—you’re not seeing the whole picture.”

You stared at him, your thoughts spinning. The years of friendship, the countless nights spent together, the laughter, the teasing touches, the moments you’d brushed off as nothing more than camaraderie. Could he be right? Had you really been that oblivious?

Felix straightened up, offering you a small, encouraging smile. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But maybe... don’t dismiss it so quickly. Pay attention. You might be surprised.”

After the guys left, I had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, Felix’s words looping endlessly in my head. They’re not gay. His voice echoed with conviction, and I felt ridiculous for letting it get to me. But I couldn’t stop replaying every touch, every look, every little thing that now felt heavier with meaning.

A soft knock on my door made me jump.

“Hey,” Chan’s voice came through, quiet but warm. “We’re hanging out in the living room. You coming?”

I hesitated before swinging my legs off the bed. “Yeah, give me a sec.”

When I padded into the living room, both of them looked up, Chan holding a beer, Hyunjin sprawled out on the couch, his sweatpants riding low on his hips. He’d swapped his shirt for a tank top, and the sharp lines of his collarbone and shoulders caught my attention for a second too long.

“Finally decided to join us, huh?” Chan teased, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

I sank down between them, their bodies close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off them.

“Sorry, I wasn’t much help earlier,” I murmured, picking at the hem of my sweater.

Hyunjin waved it off, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. But... you okay? You seemed distracted.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, glancing between them. The weight of their gazes felt different tonight—intense and questioning, like they were trying to read me.

Chan leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch behind me, his fingertips brushing my shoulder as his thumb started absentmindedly tracing small circles against my sweater.

“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” Hyunjin added, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hair, still slightly damp from a shower, fell into his eyes as he tilted his head to look at me.

My cheeks burned. “I guess I’m just tired.”

“Tired, huh?” Chan’s voice was teasing, but his hand dropped lower, grazing my upper arm now. “Or did Felix say something?”

I froze, my pulse quickening. “Why would you think that?”

Hyunjin sat back, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “You tell us. He had you alone for a while, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t say anything,” I rushed out, but my voice betrayed me, shaky and uncertain.

Chan’s hand stilled against my arm, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. “Liar,” he said softly, but there was no malice in his tone—only curiosity.

Hyunjin leaned closer, his knee brushing against mine. “If something’s on your mind, you can tell us, you know.” His voice was low, smooth, and impossibly distracting.

I could feel the tension thickening in the room, their presence overwhelming. Chan’s touch lingered, Hyunjin’s closeness making it hard to think straight. They weren’t pushing, not exactly, but the way they looked at me—like they knew I was holding something back—made it impossible to escape the weight of Felix’s words.

They’re not gay. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, one I prayed they couldn’t see.

“I think…” I started, my voice quieter than I intended, “I think you two are… not what I thought you were.”

Hyunjin leaned in a little, and I could feel the weight of his gaze as it bore into me. “What do you mean?” His voice was still low, that calm authority I’d come to recognize from him.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet their eyes. My chest tightened, heart pounding in my ears. “I thought… I thought you guys were just… you know, gay.” The words rushed out before I could stop them, leaving me exposed.

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy, suffocating. Chan’s gaze flickered to Hyunjin for just a moment, his expression unreadable, before it landed back on me. He spoke, his voice low but steady. “Is that really what you think?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was searching for something.

“Yeah,” I blurted out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I’ve seen the way you two act around each other, and… I figured I, or any girl, must’ve been the last thing on your mind.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened, the intensity of his usual gaze replaced by something else. He glanced at Chan again, who responded with a slight twitch of his lips—barely noticeable, but enough to make me feel like I’d just said something monumental.

“That’s what Felix told you, huh?” Hyunjin’s voice was calm, like he was probing for more. “What else did he say?”

I felt my voice tremble as I tried to process what was happening. “He said… you weren’t gay. And that… you were both into me”

The room was quiet for a moment, thick with anticipation. Hyunjin’s lips parted, and this time, he did speak. His voice was low, smooth, and tantalizingly close as he leaned in just enough for me to feel his breath ghosting across my skin, I had to let out a sharp exhale.

“Felix was right,” he said, his words slow, almost deliberate. “But I think he missed a few details.”

Chan didn’t move, his hand still resting on my arm. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a brief moment before meeting my eyes again, that made my breath catch.

“You’re not wrong,” he said softly, his voice low and deliberate. “But maybe you’re looking at us the wrong way.”

Before I could respond, Hyunjin’s hand brushed against my thigh, light but deliberate, sending a jolt of heat through me. “You think we don’t notice how you look at us?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, almost a whisper. “How you press your pretty thighs together every time we get close?”

I couldn’t speak. The silence between us was thick with tension, the heat from their bodies so close to mine almost suffocating, but I couldn’t pull away. Not when their eyes were on me like that, not when their words were making everything inside me ache with anticipation.

Chan smiled, but it was different this time. There was no teasing, no joking. It was raw, and real, and it made my heart race even faster. “You thought we didn’t notice, didn’t you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ve just been waiting for you to say something.”

 The silence stretched, heavy and electric. My breath caught in my throat as Chan's gaze dropped to my lips, his fingers still brushing against my cheek. I didn’t move, couldn’t move, pinned by the sheer intensity of his eyes.

“Can I?” Chan asked softly, his voice rougher now.

I nodded, barely able to form a coherent thought.

And then his lips were on mine—warm, soft, and so much gentler than I expected. The kiss sent a jolt through my entire body. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his touch firm but careful, as if testing the boundaries.

Before I could even process the sensation, I felt Hyunjin move. His hand left my thigh, but only so he could tilt my face toward him, his fingers light under my chin. My lips barely parted from Chan’s when Hyunjin leaned in, claiming my mouth with a kiss that was deeper, more urgent, but just as intoxicating.

My heart pounded against my ribcage, every nerve ending on fire. They moved with practiced ease, like this was something they’d thought about—planned, even. Chan’s hand stayed at the nape of my neck while Hyunjin’s fingers traced the curve of my jaw, grounding me in the surreal, overwhelming moment.

When they finally pulled back, I was left breathless, caught between them, my head spinning.

“You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for this,” Chan murmured, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting lightly against mine.

Hyunjin smirked, his thumb grazing the corner of my lips. “And we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the room was heavy, and then suddenly, it snapped. Hyunjin stood abruptly, his dark eyes flashing with something unreadable. Without a word, he walked out, heading toward his room.

Chan lingered for a moment, his gaze flicking back to me as I sat there, frozen and flustered. His lips twitched into the faintest smirk, the kind that made my stomach flip.

“feel free to join,” he said simply, his voice low and smooth, before turning to follow Hyunjin.

My breath hitched, my heart racing as I sat there for what felt like an eternity, debating whether or not to move. The warmth of their touches, their words, lingered on my skin, pulling me out of my daze.

I stood on shaky legs, hesitating for only a second before following them down the dimly lit hallway. The air felt charged with anticipation, every step amplifying the pounding in my chest.

When I reached Hyunjin’s room, the door was ajar, and the sight that greeted me knocked the air out of my lungs. Hyunjin was already sprawled on his bed, shirtless, the soft light casting shadows over the sharp lines of his chest and arms. His gaze was fixed on me, intense and unwavering, his dark hair falling messily across his forehead.

Chan leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not going to stand there all night, are you?” he teased, his voice a mixture of warmth and challenge.

I swallowed hard, stepping inside, my movements hesitant but drawn by a force I couldn’t fight.

Hyunjin shifted, patting the space beside him on the bed, his lips curving into a lazy grin. “Come here,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, and I felt my legs move before I could think.

Chan shut the door behind me, the soft click echoing in the quiet room as he joined us.

As I crossed the room, my steps unsteady, Hyunjin’s gaze never left mine. When I reached the bed, his hand stretched out, fingers brushing lightly against mine before he tugged me closer.

“Sit,” he murmured, his voice deep and low, and I obeyed, settling on the edge of the bed. The warmth of his skin seemed to radiate toward me, and the proximity made my heart pound harder.

Chan moved to stand nearby, his presence commanding as always. His shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin that distracted me for just a moment too long. He noticed, of course, because Chan noticed everything, and the small smirk tugging at his lips told me he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said casually, his tone laced with amusement, “I think you’re making her nervous.”

Hyunjin’s hand trailed deliberately under the hem of my skirt, the warm press of his fingertips against my thigh making my breath hitch. His touch wasn’t rushed; it was languid, teasing.

“Am I?” he murmured, his voice low and muffled as he buried his face into the curve of my neck. The warmth of his breath and the slight scrape of his nose against my skin sent a shiver down my spine. My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch despite the overwhelming heat flooding my chest.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said again, though this time there was a warning in his tone, his amusement still evident. He stepped closer, standing beside the bed where I sat perched on the edge, barely holding myself together.

Hyunjin only chuckled against my neck, his lips grazing my skin briefly as his fingers traced small circles against my inner thigh. “What? She doesn’t seem to mind.” His voice was pure velvet, laced with mischief.

my eyes darted to Chan, his steady gaze locking with mine. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at me, something that made my stomach tighten. Without a word, he reached out, tilting my chin so I was forced to hold his gaze.

“Is that true?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing against my jaw. “You don’t mind?”

“I…” My words faltered, a soft moan slipping out before I could stop it. Hyunjin’s lips had found the sensitive spot just below my ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin in a way that sent a jolt of heat straight through me. The combination of his warm breath and the light nip made my head tilt involuntarily, giving him more access.

“Hmm,” Hyunjin hummed against my neck, the vibration of his voice making my breath hitch.

Chan’s hand on my face tightened slightly, drawing my attention back to him. His dark eyes searched mine, his thumb brushing over my cheek as if to steady me—or maybe to steady himself. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, and I obeyed, despite the chaos Hyunjin was causing on my neck.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I shook my head, though the flutter in my chest betrayed the truth.

Chan stepped closer, towering over me as he leaned down, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “use your words princess,” he said softly, his voice dropping an octave.

Uncomfortable? That was the last thing I felt.

“You’re not,” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible, and Hyunjin’s fingers squeezed my thigh just slightly in response.

Chan chuckled, the sound low and rich as he took a seat beside me. Now I was between them, their warmth encasing me, their attention so focused that it felt like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“You’re shaking,” Hyunjin observed, his tone softer now, a stark contrast to the heat in his eyes.

“I’m not—” I started, but the slight quiver in my voice betrayed me again.

Chan leaned in closer, his hand joining Hyunjin’s on my other thigh. “really?,” he said gently, his touch steadying me even as it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

Hyunjin captured my lips in his with a fervor that made my breath hitch, his hand tightening on my waist as he pulled me flush against him. The kiss was hungry, every movement sending sparks through my body as his fingers trailed along my side.

Before I could process it, Chan was there too, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw as his lips found the curve of my neck. He moved slowly, deliberately, his breath hot against my skin as he kissed a path to my collarbone.

Hyunjin’s hands roamed, one gripping my thigh while the other cradled the back of my neck, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss. Chan’s hand brushed over Hyunjin’s on my leg, their touches overlapping, leaving me trembling under their attention.

“Perfect,” Chan murmured against my neck, his voice low and full of approval as he pulled back just enough to look at me. “You’re perfect.”

Hyunjin’s lips left mine, his dark eyes meeting Chan’s for a brief, heated exchange before he leaned in close; his teeth grazed the shell of my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Chan’s lips were on mine then, softer but no less intense, his hand slipping beneath my sweater to rest on my breasts, his thumb brushing my nipples. Every touch, every kiss, felt like I was being unraveled piece by piece, leaving me entirely at their mercy.

Hyunjin’s hand slid further up my thigh, his fingers toying with the hem of my underwear as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “Not like you at all.”

Chan chuckled softly against my lips, his hands steady as he lifted me effortlessly, setting me down in the middle of Hyunjin’s bed. The new position had my skirt riding up higher, and I could feel the intensity of their gazes as they both stood looking at me.

Hyunjin knelt in front of me, his hands spreading over my legs as he pushed them apart slightly, his gaze flicking to Chan before meeting mine. “You’re still holding back,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the inside of my thigh, the gentleness of it making me shiver.

Chan moved behind me, his hands sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him. His lips found my neck again, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my skin.

The heat between us was almost unbearable. Hyunjin’s fingers finally pushed aside my underwear and started stroking where I wanted him the most, and I let out a soft gasp as his lips followed.

Chan’s grip on my waist tightened, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Let go. Let us take care of you.”

My hands found their way into Hyunjin’s hair, tugging slightly as his mouth worked magic on me. The sound of his quiet chuckle against my skin sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I felt Chan’s lips curve into a smile against my shoulder; as he pushed hyunjin’s hand off my clit and replaced it with his own.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—the way their touches overlapped, how their breaths mingled with mine, left me utterly undone. Hyunjin glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“Look at you,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan’s free hand slid under my shirt, his fingers picking at my nipples. “She’s sensitive,” Chan murmured, almost to himself, his voice carrying a note of awe that made my heart race even faster.

My head tipped back against Chan’s shoulder, a soft moan escaping my lips as Hyunjin’s tongue and chan’s fingers were making me see heaven.

Chan’s lips pressed against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he soothed the spot with his tongue, leaving a burning trail of sensation in his wake.

My body arched, every nerve igniting as waves of pleasure coursed through me, sharp and all-consuming. My nails dug into Hyunjin’s scalp, and his name left my lips in a breathless cry. His grip on my hips tightened, grounding me in the overwhelming sensation as his dark eyes bore into mine, filled with pride and hunger.

“That’s it,” chan murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “cum for us princess.”

 And I did, my breath came in soft gasps, my body still trembling as the rush of pleasure faded into a warm hum.

Chan’s hand slid up to my cheek, turning my face toward him. His eyes were heavy-lidded but soft, his thumb brushing my jaw as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this.” He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his lips exploring mine as though he had all the time in the world.

Hyunjin pulled back finally, licking his lips like a hungry man. “Don’t think we’re done,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. His dark eyes roamed over me, taking in the sight of me flushed and breathless. “this was just the begining.”

“lie down, baby” chan demands, as he moved from behind me.

As I did, the guys started taking off their clothes urgently. And I couldn’t help but stare; they were gorgeous and they knew it.

Chan immediately layed on top of me, trapping me between his arms, his body hovering over me, and I realised just how big he actually was, from the corner of my eye I saw hyunjin get next to me in bed his grin was sharp, his fingers brushing over my calf with deliberate slowness as he settled beside me. “You’re in for it now,” he teased, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan didn’t waste a second. His lips were on mine, his cock pressing down on me, heavy and unyielding, I needed him so bad. His kiss was hungry, claiming, and I couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped my lips as he deepened it.

Beside me, Hyunjin’s hand roamed my body, his touch electrifying against my skin. He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “You sound so sweet,” he muttered, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below my ear.

Chan pulled back slightly, just enough for me to catch my breath before he entered me without a warning, as I let out a gasp. I felt utterly full of him.

Hyunjin’s mouth followed a slow, teasing path down my neck, his fingers now splayed possessively against my tits. His tongue darted out, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and I couldn’t stop the arch of my back as the tension built between us.

Chan’s thrusts, were precise and passionate. “You drive us insane, you know that?” he growled against my lips before capturing them again.

Hyunjin chuckled low. “oh she knows exactly what she’s doing,” he murmured, his voice like silk, his touch anything but gentle as he made his intentions clear.

They weren’t taking their time anymore—they were claiming me, and I was powerless to resist.

each thrust was sending waves of pleasure through me, making my thoughts scatter. Chan’s breath was hot against my lips as he muttered, “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

Hyunjin’s hands were everywhere, his fingers tracing fire over my skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “You like this, don’t you? Both of us making you our own?” His voice was low, teasing, and it only heightened the ache pooling in my core.

I couldn’t respond, my voice caught in my throat as Chan’s pace quickened, his grip on my thighs firm and possessive. Hyunjin smirked at my lack of words, his hand cupping my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “we spent years thinking about fucking you like this, you’re ours now” he murmured before his lips captured mine in a kiss that was just as consuming as Chan’s touch.

The build was maddening, chan’s relentless rhythm pushing was me to the edge. My hands gripped his shoulders tightly, my nails digging into his skin as I felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in my core. “Chan,” I gasped, his name spilling from my lips like a plea, my body trembling beneath him.

“Let go, baby,” he murmured against my ear, his voice rough with need. “I’ve got you.”

The release hit me like a tidal wave, my body arching as pleasure flooded every nerve. My cries filled the room, and Chan followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as his own climax overtook him. He pressed his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling, his weight grounding me as I came down from the high.

Before I could fully catch my breath, I felt Hyunjin’s hand slide up my leg, his touch firm yet tantalizing. “Don’t think I’m letting you off that easily,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. He was on me in an instant, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss that reignited the fire in my veins.

“Turn over,” he commanded softly, his voice holding an edge of authority that made me shiver. Chan shifted, moving to the side to make space as Hyunjin positioned himself behind me, his hands gripping my hips. The anticipation was electric, and when he finally pushed into me, it was slow and deliberate, drawing out a moan that left no question about how much I wanted this.

“You’re stunning like this,” Hyunjin rasped, his movements starting to quicken, each one sending fresh sparks through my body. “I’ve been dying to have you like this.”

Chan, still close, leaned down to kiss me, his hand brushing the hair from my face as Hyunjin took control. I’m drooling at this point, and my legs were shaking due to the overstimulation.

the room was filled with my moans and hyunjin’s grunts, who was trying his best to last as long as possible.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned, the pressure on his cock making him go completely insane.

Eventually, he gave up, letting himself cum at the same time as me.

"Fuck," he breathed out, pulling out of me. He layed between me and chan.

"You did well, love," hyunjin whispered, making me smile despite how tired I was.

[heich0e]

"so... how's work?"

you accidentally click the edge of your wine glass against your teeth as you tip it back, jarred by the strange question from the man standing at your side. you swallow the tiny mouthful of wine you manage to sip, turning to look at suna in bewilderment.

"work?" you ask him incredulously. "why are you asking me about work?"

suna rintarou doesn't care about what you do for work. truthfully speaking, you're not sure he even knows what you do for work—you certainly don't remember ever telling him, and the memory would stand out quite starkly considering all you ever seem to do when you run into him is bicker with him uselessly.

suna is a friend of a friend. or a friend of some friend's ex. or something. all you know is that every so often the two of you end up at the same social event, and there's something about the guy's face that just... makes you want to pick a fight.

and he has yet to turn down your instigation.

your friends all think it's funny—like you're some kind of comedy duo, and this is your special bit—but you don't see the charm in the slightest. you suspect they've started inviting you both to events just to have some entertainment.

"what?" rintarou asks, fiddling with his cellphone in his hand—pinching it between his thumb and his ring finger while he twirls it with his index. "i'm not allowed to ask about work? isn't that normal small talk for a christmas party?"

you're a little taken aback by his words. first of all, because he's right (which you hate). second of all, because he seems strangely defensive about it.

"normal for other people, maybe," you mutter, more to yourself than anything, before taking another tiny sip of wine. you swallow it, but somehow it doesn't help the dry feeling in your mouth. you're not sure you like this particular wine, you think, as bitterness clings to your tongue. "work is... fine."

suna perks up beside you at that, and you feel his eyes on your profile like he's waiting for you to go on.

"things get, uh... things get slow this time of year, so I'm mostly just answering stupid emails and ordering gifts online while i sit at my desk." you swirl the glass of wine in your hand, watching the way that the light catches in the deep red surface. "my section chief has kids and loves the holidays, so she's been pretty checked-out lately, herself. makes it easy to get away with slacking off."

you risk a glance over at him, and are somewhat dismayed to find him listening intently.

"must be nice to get a little break," he offers.

"yeah, i guess," you reply. your words are in agreement with him, but still your brow furrows.

what the fuck is going on?

you look around the room, as though checking for a hidden camera, or some other sign that might give away what the hell this guy's motives are. but around you is simply a room of friends enjoying each other's company—sipping drinks; eating finger foods the hosts had been carefully set out to graze on; chatting amongst each other about their lives, their holiday sweaters, their work.

everything seems totally normal, other than what's transpiring in the quiet corner where you and suna rintarou find yourselves standing side by side.

"how is... your... work?" you manage to ask, though it sounds as though the question is pulled from you with considerable effort. stiff and strained in every way a question so innocuous doesn't have any right to be.

suna laughs a little under his breath, masks it with a clearly fake cough, and then rests his hand over his mouth. he's smirking. you know he is. he's revelling in every second of your discomfort like the twisted little freak he is.

you're about to tell him as much, but he cuts you off.

"it's good," he replies to your pained question with an unexpected sincerity. "we're coming up to the half-way point in the season, so training is still pretty intense. we do get a day off for the holiday though."

right, he's a volleyball player. you'd learned that upon your first meeting, before your opinion of him was quite so hostile. you remember thinking at the time that he looked like a volleyball player—tall, lean, with big hands that made the beer can he'd been holding look almost laughably small in comparison.

you glance down at those hands again, still idly fidgeting with his cellphone. he's not drinking a beer tonight, and you wonder if maybe it's because he's in the middle of his season.

you think about asking him.

but you don't.

suna seems to be waiting for you to say more, but when you don't, he continues on the conversation himself. "i thought about taking the train to hyogo for the day, but it wouldn't really make sense just to go visit for a few hours."

you take another sip of your wine. you decide that you do not in fact enjoy it.

you hum a bit, ditching your mostly full glass on the edge of a table that rests within reach. "tough to just make a day trip, especially since the weather's so..." you trail off, gesturing vaguely with your now empty hand in a way that's supposed to indicate the unreliability of the winter climate.

suna laughs.

you look at him in confusion.

"the weather?" he asks you, rubbing at his mouth again like he trying to hide the expression underneath his fingertips. it might work if his eyes didn't crinkle at the corner when he smiles. "we're talking about the weather now?"

your lips part indignantly at his jibe. he's the one who'd initiated this hellscape of small talk, and now he had the nerve to chide you for it?

"oh, i'm sorry," you guffaw, feigning remorse, "is there some pressing matter you'd rather discuss?"

rintarou dips closer to you from his greater height, and the fact that he's so much taller than you are only irritates you more.

"there is actually," he says with a nod.

"oh, yeah?" you roll your eyes, gearing up for a fight. you turn to face him properly, tilting your chin up to meet him eye to eye without wavering. "and what's that?"

"are you aware that we've been standing under mistletoe for the entirety of this conversation?"

you slowly look overhead.

like something out of a horror film, you find that for once in his life (or at least the few months you've known him) suna's chosen to say something factual. overhead, a little bundle of mistletoe has been affixed to the ceiling with a piece of tape that seems to barely be hanging on—the decoration at risk of falling at any moment.

you feel sick.

"so what?" you ask him, swallowing down that feeling of dread and maintaining (what you hope is) an air of indifference.

"so that means we're supposed to kiss," he tells you matter-of-factly, almost a bit pointedly, like he can't believe you didn't know.

"i'm aware of that," you hiss. "i don't, however, bend to the whims of plants, as a general rule."

"weird rule," he remarks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

you feel a throb of irritation behind your eyes.

"you're the one who came over here to bother me," you point out. "if you knew there was mistletoe hanging up there, that means this is your fault."

suna shrugs a bit.

you keep going, your pulse thrumming beneath your tongue and fanning the flames of irritation churning in the pit of your stomach.

"if anything, that makes you the weird one for coming up with some scheme to trick me. we're not children. if you wanted to kiss me so bad you could have just aske—"

"can i kiss you?"

what?

"i asked if i can kiss you," rintarou says, and you're not sure if that means you voiced your thought aloud or it was just plainly written across your face. he inches closer to you, and though you would usually shift away to accommodate for the intrusion, the table where you'd discarded your glass of wine keeps you mostly trapped in place. pinned. cornered. "you said that if i wanted to kiss you, i should ask. so, i'm asking if i can kiss you."

why?

suna sighs after a moment of contemplating the look of abject shock on your features, slumping forward and resting his forehead on the wall beside your head, caging you against the wall with his lanky frame. you can't breathe with him this close—too startled by the proximity and the warmth radiating from him to even think about drawing air into your lungs. too confused by this entire situation to meet your basic human needs.

"you really don't get it, do you?" he asks quietly. he's so near that you feel his words more than you hear them—especially since they were spoken so quietly just next to your ear.

"get what?" your own voice sounds distant—sounds strange—to you when you finally manage to speak.

suna pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, and you're shocked to see just how pink his face is. he looks mortified—and desperate—as his eyes find yours. he tilts his face towards you, and when he speaks again you feel the warmth of his breath break against your lips.

"you're the only person in this room who i'd enjoy listening to talk about the weather."

and it's not until much later, when the lingering bitterness from the wine has been replaced by something much sweeter (though entirely unexpected) on your tongue, that you realize rintarou was the only person in the room tall enough to reach the ceiling.

a/n: for nana, who forced me to write this entirely against my will but whom i love dearly in spite of it

[split-spectrum]

YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tags: extremely dubious consent, non-con elements, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, age gap, established relationship, jealousy, possessive!joel, softdom!joel, unprotected sex, alcohol, hair pulling

Length: 3.3K

Summary: At a client's house party, you catch yourself getting jealous of other eyes on Joel. Joel pulls you aside to show you exactly what he thinks of that.

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, so please go easy on me <3

☆☆☆

What is it about Joel that makes him most attractive when he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be?

You tip back the last of your whiskey sour, gazing at the tight creases in the corners of his eyes as he nods along with the blond guy who's been talking for twenty painful minutes about the crypto market. Joel is leaning back, arms folded over his chest, his big shoulders pushing at the seams of his denim shirt.

He once told you that no one besides you could tell his emotions on his face. You'd laughed and called bullshit at the time, telling him every thought in that pretty head of his showed up plain as day on his face, but right now it doesn't seem to matter. He's been looking like he'd swallowed glass since this guy started talking, and it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference to him.

When Joel had asked if you wanted to come along to the holiday party one of his clients was having at his house, you'd said yes even after hearing that the guy was 'kind of an idiot' and you'd probably be 'bored to tears'. Joel would have skipped it, but unfortunately it was one of his biggest clients, and the invitation wasn't one he could politely decline.

Right now, though, you're sort of wishing you'd listened to him. The party stopped being fun somewhere around the second MLM scheme that had been pitched to you, and you're now counting the minutes until you'll hit the mark Joel set on the drive there: "Least a couple hours - then we can head out."

The guy takes a short pause, then launches into another tirade on bitcoin, and you realize you're going to need another drink to get through it. Joel's arm slips from around your waist as you pull away.

"Be right back, fellas. I'm going to get a refill."

Joel's brows lift as you leave him behind. "Now hold on there. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you get your own drink-"

You wave him off, trying to hold in a smirk. "No really, I need to take a lap. Stretch my legs."

He licks his lips, looks off to the side for a second before calling after you, "Grab me one on your way back, will ya?"

You smile innocently. "You got it."

After your host declines your offer to get him something, you head to the kitchen, making a little chit chat on your way to the well-stocked fridge. You decide to get Joel's beer before you return to the open bar to ask for another drink of your own. You hook your knuckles around the neck of a Modelo, no sooner closing the door to the fridge before you glance back in Joel's direction, seeing he's been joined by a few more people.

It isn't surprising. Joel's the type of guy who tends to draw attention, and not just because of his looks. He's the guy who's in charge, even when he's not in charge. People gravitate toward him; just something about his presence that makes him the most interesting thing in every room.

In spite of that, your attention isn't on him at the moment. It's on the girl making moon eyes beside him. She's tossing a long, shiny ponytail behind her shoulder and grinning ear to ear despite the fact that bitcoin boy hasn't stopped talking.

Picking up a bottle opener, you pop the cap off the beer in your hand by muscle memory, not able to tear your eyes off of them. Joel's attention is still on the host, but when she says something to him, you watch him pull his chin back to nod, holding her in the corner of his eye to give a quick smile.

Kelly, you remember. That's her name. She's the receptionist at the client's office, and she's probably seen more of Joel this month than you have.

You watch as she cranks up her smile another thousand watts, laughing at something one of the other guys in the group has said. Kelly, you think. No. Probably spells it with an i. Kelli. Probably dots it with a heart.

Your face is starting to warm up, and when someone on the other side of the kitchen counter gently asks if you're alright, you clear your throat, then reply that you're fine as you quickly open the fridge for a second Modelo. It's time for you to slow down on the whiskey.

As you make your way back to the group, you catch Kelly/Kelli's eyes and give her a subdued smile. She blinks and smiles back, suddenly looking very shy.

"Now what did I miss?" you ask, when the men dissolve into laughter.

Henry, one of the contractors under Joel, shakes his head. "It ain't worth repeating in the presence of a lady."

The host interjects, "So what do you call Kelly?"

Henry puts an arm around her shoulder. "Aw, she's heard it all before, haven'tcha?"

"That don't mean she wants to hear it from you!" one of the other men shouts, and there's another round of laughter while you bite your lip, watching Joel's eyes as they dip to Henry's arm.

You wrap your lips around the tip of the bottle in your hand, letting the taste of the beer give your mouth an excuse to look sour. Henry's hand is dropping from Kelly's shoulder down to her waist, and while the conversation carries on, Joel leans in close so that only Henry - and you - can hear.

"Cool it, Henry."

"Huh?" comes the slow reply, as he pretends not to have understood him.

Joel just lifts his brows, and that's all it takes for Henry to back off, looking a little sheepish as he unwinds himself from Kelly, who looks more than a little relieved.

Henry turns to you, suddenly trying to make small talk, to save face. "Have you two met? This's our girl Kelly. She takes good care of us, don'tcha, sweetheart?"

You give a polite smile. "We've met. Nice to see you, again. Both of you."

"Uh huh," Henry answers half-heartedly before he wanders off, perhaps to join another conversation, or just to find another drink.

Kelly gives you another polite smile, then as the host starts to back away, bringing the rest of the group with him, she goes along with the crowd. Before she leaves, though, she softly murmurs to Joel, "Thanks for that."

He answers with a stiff nod, but it's more than enough to put the stars back in her eyes as she walks away, leaving the two of you alone.

You're biting your lip again, practically chewing on it, as you dangle Joel's beer by the throat, handing it over to him.

"Thank you," he says, then tips it back immediately.

You don't reply, lost in thought, but pretending nonchalance as you watch the group leave.

"Meant what I said, though," Joel adds in your silence. "Shoulda let me get it. I don't like to have you wanderin' around on your own. Not with this bunch of degenerates."

You smirk. "What, like Henry?"

"For one, yeah," he says, turning to face you now that the sounds of the party are fading into the background. "Lookin' the way you do, won't be able to keep their eyes or their hands off ya."

You laugh him off, but can't pretend that his voice isn't settling right in the bottom of your stomach. He's standing a little closer, now, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with the spice of his cologne. Something about him talking this way puts some boldness into you, and your words come out a bit more reckless than they should.

"Well, maybe you should have asked Kelly to get your drink, then."

He looks dumbfounded for a moment, and you widen your smile to show you're joking.

"I mean, I'm sure she would have," you go on, digging yourself deeper even as your heart kicks up faster. If you'd switched to beer two drinks ago, you probably would have explained yourself better. You would have insisted it was just a joke, because she so clearly has a crush on him. But your words are just swimming in all that whiskey.

"Cute little thing like that," you say, shrugging. "Probably don't mind her 'taking care of you', do ya?"

Joel's eyes are fixed on you, voice easing down into his chest when he asks softly, warningly, "What did you just say?"

He's turned all the way toward you, and all at once the room feels so much smaller, your face so much hotter. He's waiting for an answer, and your breath is caught high in your throat. "I-uh... it was just... nothing."

He's very slowly setting down his beer, looking down to a side table. "Wasn't nothing; I heard it." He looks back up at you, pinning you hard where you stand. "Now repeat it. Wanna make sure I heard you right."

You swallow, mouth dry. "I nn-nothing, I just said..." You force a crooked smile that you know he isn't buying for a second. "Y'know... she's- she's pretty cute, and maybe you... maybe she oughta... 'cause maybe you want her to..."

Your babbling doesn't impress him. He's just staring at you under a darkened brow. He opens his mouth to say something, but the motion of someone else entering the room catches your eye and you snap defensively before he can say anything.

"Joel, I didn't mean-"

He follows your gaze, then turns away and shuts you up with a wide, heavy palm sliding to the small of your back. "C'mere," he says. "C'mon." And the way he breathes it as he guides you out of the room and down the hall, you don't argue.

He finds a bathroom and pushes you inside. While you're looking over his shoulder to make sure no one sees you going in together, he's staring straight ahead, and he closes the door with one hand, still holding you with the other.

"I'm... sorry," you confess as soon as the door closes. "That was stupid. I don't know why I said it."

"Yeah," he grunts, crowding you up against the closed door. "You do."

The way he has you held close, arm around your waist and words warm against your mouth, you'd normally try to kiss him right about now. But looking into his eyes, you know there's no kiss waiting for you on his lips.

He's mad, and you're a little scared. Not scared of him, but scared of what he might do at a party where people might hear. People that he has to work with on Monday.

He isn't drunk, but he's had a few, and your fear ratchets up when his hand slides to your backside, gripping your ass and kneading it as he growls, "You think I give a goddamn about some teenager?"

Despite the way he's manhandling you through your dress, you can't help but roll your eyes. "She's not a teenager."

She isn't really that much younger than you are. And with Joel in his fifties, the thought has crossed your mind that he might just be keeping you around because he got a thing for younger women. You'd just never said anything out loud. Until tonight.

He stops, pulls back. "Alright, guess I'm not bein' clear enough."

He takes you by both arms, pushes you against the sink so you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Behind you, he starts unbuckling his belt.

"Joel..." you whisper, heat pulsing through you just from the sound of the metal clinking. You know you should ask him to stop - is the door even fucking locked? - but you can't get any other words out besides his name.

He slides a hand under your dress, pushing it up and over the swell of your ass. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even run his hand over your skin. He just pushes your panties to the side, pressing the head of his cock right up against your pussy, holding it there as he grits against your ear, "Guess I gotta show you where I want to be."

He pushes the thick head inside you, wrapping one arm around your stomach to keep you from falling forward. His other hand is flat on the sink, not playing with you, not easing anything. He doesn't give you any prep, just shoves in slowly, his cock stretching you all in one go.

You hiss, brow pinching. He didn't even let you get wet enough to take him. You can feel every damn move he makes inside you as he shifts his hips closer to pin you hard against the cold edge of the sink. When he's all the way in, you watch your mouth pop open in the mirror as you take a few panting breaths. The stretch is almost unbearable, but feeling so full of him, you don't want to stop.

He eases out, just a couple inches to coat himself in your slick, then presses back in even harder. You feel like your lungs are going to give out from how tight your gasps are getting.

"Fuck, Joel... hurts," you whine.

He slowly slides you off of him, then feeds it right back in.

"I know it does, honey," he breathes against your neck. "I know it does."

His deep voice makes you pulse around his cock and he drags his big, calloused hand down to the front of your dress, lifting it up just far enough to see your pussy, stuffed full of him. You're leaking down the sides of his cock, glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.

"See that?" he asks, unmoving. "That's where I wanna be. You hear me?"

Giving a shaky nod of your head, you whimper, "Yes."

He starts to piston in and out of you, and you can only watch. You close your eyes tight when he speeds up a little. "It's... mm- it's too much."

He doesn't change his pace. "Ain't about feelin' good. You've got to learn."

He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you follow with an answering moan as the tension in your muscles starts to fade. You're soaking down both sides of your inner thighs as he opens you up further.

When you've dissolved into whimpering his name, he hooks one arm around your leg from behind, lifting it up so that you're spread wider. His other hand is still holding up your dress.

"Look at that," he grunts, making an obscene display of his cock fucking into your pussy. "Look how fucking hard you make me, baby."

You whine again, struck dumb by how good he feels with every snap of his hips. "God, feels so good... please..."

He's dragging his teeth against your neck when he replies, "Please?"

"Please, Joel. Feels so fucking good," you repeat, eyes closed.

You want him to fuck you properly, to bend you over and make you take him, to use his fingers - to let you use yours - anything; it doesn't matter. You're so worked up, you just need a little more.

"M'not gonna give you what you want, darlin'," he answers. "Don't work like that."

You can't help but loose a plaintive moan, even knowing you deserve it. "Baby, please-"

He drops your knee, letting your leg come down to the floor as he bends you over the sink. When he starts to fuck you for real, you can't hold it together anymore, softly pleading and whining for more, begging him not to stop, opening your eyes to watch him in the mirror as he starts to lose himself, too.

Until a knock at the door jars you right out of it.

"Is anybody in there?"

Joel doesn't even slow down. Just flattens his palm along your lower back to bend you back over after you jolt up.

"Joel-" you hiss. But he keeps giving you exactly what you need, and your eyes roll back.

"Hello?"

He slides a warm hand down the open neckline of your dress, kneading your breast as he looks at you in the mirror. His brown eyes are stern and steady. "Answer."

He keeps feeding you his cock, and you hiccup, legs shaking as you whisper, "I- I don't..."

"Go on and tell 'em. You're busy."

Fuck fuck fuck. "Uhh, s-someone's in here!"

Your voice comes out strained and airy, and you wait for the reply while Joel kisses the skin of your shoulder, sliding the front of your dress down.

"Joel, it's... somebody is..."

"Nothin' in here that I wanna hide," he growls, pushing his hips right up against your ass as he circles a thumb around one of your nipples.

"Fuck, Joel..." The silence outside has been long enough that the person is probably gone, but your pulse is still pounding, and he's making it so fucking hard to think. "Oh my god, yes..."

He's quietly panting, lifts his head long enough to say, "Understand now, pretty girl?"

"Mm..."

"This here's right where I wanna be. Nowhere else," he grunts, pressing his weight down on you, the squelching sounds between your bodies getting louder than your moans. Your eyes are drawn up to the mirror, watching the veins in his neck tighten as he fucks into you harder and harder. "You got it?"

You frantically nod, desperately near the edge of coming. "Fuck, yes, mhm..."

"Maybe I oughta fill you up right here, leave you with somethin' to think about."

"N-no," you stutter, almost sounding like you're sobbing your words. "P-please, I get it. I heard what you s-said."

He has to let you come. You don't care that you were acting up, making something out of nothing. You don't care what got him mad at you. All you can think about is how flushed his chest is beneath the open collar of his shirt, how tight his grip is, how stiff his jaw is set. You just want to listen to that throaty growl, feel him mercilessly fucking you a little while longer. That's all it would take. Just a little bit...

"Fuck-"

Joel pulls out, hand tightening into a fist around himself. You slump against the sink.

"Goddamn, baby. Almost got me, there."

You're on the verge of tears, shuddering with wild breaths. "No, fuck, Joel, please please please-"

He grips a handful of your ass, fingers brushing through your wetness and making you whimper.

"Told you, I ain't giving you what you want."

You hear him zip up his jeans, and then his hand is back at your ass, but this time he's pulling your panties back into place and tugging your dress down.

"Never gonna learn that way."

You whine pitifully, knowing you brought this on yourself, but still pleading under your breath, face drawn tight with frustration.

He helps you stand up properly, giving you his arm to steady yourself. You straighten your dress, cleaning up your appearance in the mirror, and eventually you're able to leave the bathroom, walking out on trembling legs.

He gives you a smirk as you leave the hallway, and something in you finally snaps. Maybe it's a little unfair, but you know exactly what to say to knock that smirk off his face.

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Guess you didn't want me that bad after all, or you would have finished."

And all of ten minutes later, you're in the cab of his truck. You're screaming his name as you come all over his cock, hands fisted in his hair, tugging it hard while he pumps you full of his cum, cursing you the whole time.

Turns out, he's the one who's never gonna learn.

--

A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have a taglist for Joel, but I'll add one if I ever write for him again. Hope you enjoyed! :)

Masterlist

[mywhisperingwords]

a touch that never hurts | fred g. weasley

summary: you seem to have fallen for your best friend, which you could handle if only he didn’t constantly touch you word count: 3.2k masterlist

It was official: you were stupid.

Only a complete idiot would fall for their best mate and here you’ve gone and done it. Because there was no other explanation for this feeling in your stomach as you looked across the Great Hall and watched Fred Weasley tell some stupid joke to his friends and wishing nothing more than to be the one he told the joke to.

He wasn’t even supposed to be here; just earlier today, Snape had given him detention.

While working on the assigned potion, he decided to mix things up to make you laugh after your bad day.

Before class started Snape decided to ruin the day and give everyone’s essays back. You flunked. Hard. After a big explosion and an awful lecture from Snape, any of Fred’s afternoon plans were ruined. For you.

You stood there, frozen in shock, trying to figure out how to go on with your life from here.

But how could you? This realization felt like the worst thing that’s ever happened to you—right after becoming friends with Fred Weasley himself.

You must’ve stood frozen in place for too long because he caught your eye and was now waving you over with his typical charming smile while the people around him were continuing their conversation, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. You briefly considered turning around and running away, but you decided against it. That would make this situation even more awkward than it already was.

Taking a deep breath and mustering a wobbly smile, you made your way over to the Gryffindor table. You exchanged greetings with your friends and headed toward a seat, hoping to get as far away from Fred as you could. But, of course, Fred had other plans. With a grin, he shoved Lee aside and proudly declared the seat next to him as free.

Bloody hell, he was making it hard for you. It’s as if he knew and wanted to torture you now that you had finally realized your true feelings. Feelings that didn’t actually exist; denial was your new best friend.

With no other choice, other than making this one hell of an uncomfortable situation for everyone, you reluctantly sat down next to him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.

But to no avail. As soon as you sat down Fred swung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “Thank Merlin you’re here. Could you be a darling and tell our idiotic friends that Snape does in fact secretly love me and that is the only reason he so often chooses to see me after class?”

‘Darling’ and ‘secretly loves me’, seemed to be the only thing your brain registered, not to mention that arm still wrapped around you. Has he always been this physically affectionate with you? It was hard to remember because Fred was looking at you expectantly as if he were waiting for something and…

Finally, your brain catches up, “Oh, that my dear Fred, is what we call detention. And wouldn't you know it, you're supposed to be there... like right now!" You playfully glanced at your imaginary wristwatch.

You could practically see the second he realized you were right. In a hurry, he jumped up from his seat and snatched the last food from his plate. But there was something important he seemed to have forgotten.

With a grin, you asked him, "Aren't you forgetting something?" Confusion washed over his face as he turned back to the table, searching for what he had missed, not finding anything. After a brief moment, he leaned down and surprised you with a kiss on your cheek. Speechless and mouth agape, you watched as the rest of the table erupted in snickers.

"You git!" you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks burn. "I meant your wand!"

Instead of being flustered like you, Fred found the whole situation hilarious. He joined in laughter with his friends and sent you a playful wink. With a glint in his eye, he swiftly retrieved his wand and innocently exclaimed, "Oops!" before making a speedy exit from the Great Hall.

Still trying to process what just happened, you turned to your friends, hoping they could provide the distraction and peace of mind you desperately needed.

Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, George decided to torture you. With a grin, he leaned in and asked if you've figured it out yet. Your whole body tensed up, and you found yourself desperately wishing for an escape.

In your horrified state, you managed to stammer out a weak, "W-What?" The anticipation of his response hung heavy in the air, and you braced yourself for the worst.

George burst into laughter, which echoed through the Great Hall, making everything feel ten times worse. You couldn’t help but feel exposed, as if your deepest secrets were on display for everyone to see.

Through his laughter, George managed to squeeze out, "Bloody hell. Looks like someone forgot the essay for McGonagall that's due tomorrow."

You breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that he had no idea. How could he? You yourself just figured it out. And you’d do anything to keep it that way. You won’t tell a soul about any of it and just pretend that things were normal.

✧

How naive could you be? How in your right mind could you ever think that keeping this from Fred was a possibility?

He knew you better than you knew yourself.

No matter how hard you tried to keep things like always it just wouldn’t go your way. First everything was completely normal, nothing out of the ordinary. You two would banter and share jokes. But as soon as he touched you in any way you panicked and run away from him.

You hadn’t realized how often he reached for you. It apparently had become like second nature for him.

At first you noticed the small touches, like accidentally bumping shoulders while walking together or him gently tapping your arm to get your attention.

But it was the larger gestures that pushed you to your breaking point, stirring up your traitorous heart even more. Like when he reached out and grabbed your hand in the bustling crowd of students during a visit to Hogsmead.

But the absolute worst was when he would slide in next to you, casually drape his arm around your shoulder and pull you close, all while effortlessly engaging in conversation with someone else. And what made it even more unbearable was that no one seemed to bat an eye. It was as if this physical closeness was an unspoken agreement between the two of you, that no one remembered to inform you about.

But as much as you tried to subtly keep your distance you could tell that Fred knew something was wrong. He saw it in the way you would purposefully choose to sit the furthest away from him even when the seat next to him was unoccupied.

You saw the confusion in his eyes when you started to avoid going to Hogsmead with the excuse of finishing your school work. He knew that this was never something that stopped you from spending time with him or your friends.

Since that first year you met Fred on the train, he’d been a constant presence in your life. You stumbled upon Fred and George pulling a prank on their older brother Percy. Instead of telling on them, you decided to join in on the mischief. As a result, Percy ended up with boils all over his face. From that moment on, you and Fred became inseparable. So, when you suddenly started pulling away without any explanation, it felt like the most awful thing you could do to him.

And you could tell that it was hurting Fred too. He wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve; in fact, quite the opposite. But after all the years you've known him, you were priding yourself on understanding him better than most people in his life. He would never outright admit it, but your actions were causing him pain.

He would extend his hand, reach out, but as soon as he noticed that you turned away from him, he would pull back. In that fleeting moment, you could see the hurt and confusion reflected in his eyes, mirroring the hurt you were experiencing.

He even attempted to talk about it once. Normally, he would rely on laughter to uplift your spirits rather than delve into the realm of emotions. So when he approached you before your class, specifically to ask if you were okay, it created an awkward conversation for the both of you. All you could do was promise him, that if anything was wrong, you’d tell him.

What a lie.

His genuine concern shattered your heart. But it wasn't just him who could sense that something was off. You noticed how your friends would exchange worried glances every time you came up with a new excuse to avoid spending time with Fred.

Being around him became an unbearable risk, fearing that he might somehow discover your true feelings for him. It wasn’t just a simple crush; your feelings ran deeper, more intense.

Every time you witnessed his infectious laughter or his ability to light up the entire room with his jokes, a swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach, consuming you from within. The guilt of keeping such a significant secret from him and the rest of your friends gnawed at you. But the thought of confessing your feelings and potentially jeopardizing everything held you back.

It has gotten to the point where you chose to spend your free time in the library. You knew that he would never step foot inside of it. So this place became your sanctuary.

But you should’ve known better. Fred Weasley may not be an overly emotional person but he was stubborn to no end.

One night after dinner, that ended with you leaving the table as soon as possible and an excuse, truthful this time, to do your unfinished homework you returned to the only place that felt safe from Fred.

There were only a few students left in the library. You grabbed your Charms Book and settled into a quiet corner, hoping to review your homework for Professor Flitwick.

But your silence was soon disturbed by the one person you wanted to avoid. Which was not entirely true.

The situation hurt, but you couldn’t help wanting to see him — even if only from afar.

Fred appeared to be searching for you because the moment your eyes met, he marched over to where you were sitting.

"Back to doing homework, huh?" he asked, glancing at your table.

"Actually, yes," you replied honestly.

“Oi, sod off. I know you mostly just sit here doing nothing — Lee saw you, you know?” he said.

“I don’t know what Lee thinks he saw but that’s not the truth. This is a library. I study,” you argued.

“Listen, I know you’ve been avoiding me. And I have no idea what I could’ve done. You’ve been blowing me off left and right. You’re being pretty obvious and I think it’s time we had this discussion.”

You stared at him, eyes wide open. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already told you, everything is fine.”

“Come off it! We’ve been friends for years and I know when something’s off. You’ve been avoiding me and you have been for weeks. I’m done pretending like I don’t know that. And things aren’t fine since you won’t tell me what it is. What’s this really about?” his voice was low, but you could feel his anger seeping through.

But you couldn’t tell him; too much was at stake. You’d lose your best friend. Even the thought alone was too much to bear.

“Fred, please. I just… I can’t explain it to you,” you pleaded.

“Why the hell not? I’m your friend!” You appreciated his concern, but his persistence was becoming overwhelming. “If everything truly was fine you wouldn’t be hiding here all the time! What’s going on?” he demanded, clearly just wanting answers, answers you couldn’t give him.

“I really can’t tell you. Please, I’m begging you, let it go.” Keeping this from him was killing you. You felt awful holding this secret from him. Deep inside you entertained the notion that he felt the same, but doubts held you back. It was pain-filled hiding something so important from a person that meant so much to you. You wished that he felt the same way, but fear gripped you tight.

Fred's anger was palpable, evident from the fury etched on his face. Madam Pince was shooting both of you disapproving glances. You secretly hoped that she would kick you out, giving you an excuse to escape this conversation.

“No, I’m not giving up. I deserve answers and I’m not leaving until I get them, understood?” He defiantly took a seat right in front of you.

You remained silent, refusing to speak another word. The more he pushed, the harder it became to keep this from him.

“I’ve got all night. Nowhere else to be,” he stated, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you. Still refusing to speak, you turned your attention back to your essay, hoping he would eventually relent.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. His voice now calm and his expression blank. No trace of anger or irritation. It almost seemed like he had come to accept the situation.

“Maybe this is for the best. You clearly don’t want to talk to me, so I’ll guess I won’t bother you anymore,” he said in a monotone voice, before he abruptly stood up and started to walk away, not looking back once.

Hot panic was surging through your veins and in an instant you jumped up, to go after him. Realizing that you were about to lose him either way, you took a chance.

“I like you!” The words echoed through the quiet library, their volume seemingly too loud for the stillness around you. He paused in his tracks, but didn't turn around. Unable to see his reaction, you continued, thinking maybe it was better this way, shielded from the potential disgust his face might reveal.

"I like you, and I'm really sorry, okay? I just need some time to sort things out and get over these feelings. I promise, but right now, I can't be around you. Not right now. That's why I've been avoiding you. Please, please don't hate me," with every word, your desperation spilled out, raw and unfiltered, while your eyes began to burn.

As Fred slowly turned around, his expression was unreadable, and it felt like everything was falling apart. Immediate regret was filling you up. Maybe, if you would’ve stayed silent and kept on ignoring what was going on inside of you, there would have been a chance to mend the friendship later on. But now, it felt like it might be too late.

“You like me?” he asked, his voice filled with bewilderment.

“Please, don’t make me say it again,” you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed by the situation.

His expression slowly transformed into a wide smile, "You're not kidding. You actually like me?"

Confused and feeling a sense of panic, you asked, "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

Fred's grin widened, making him look like a complete idiot, "I can't control it. You've just made me the happiest person in the world. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been hoping to hear those words?"

Silence filled the air. Your heart skipped a beat. "What?"

“I like you too, I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he confessed with a soft grin, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"So, that's why you were always touching me?" you asked, trying to make sense of it all.

He let out a loud laugh, quickly quieted by a stern look from Madam Pince. He sent her an apologetic smile before refocusing on you and speaking in a hushed tone.

"And here I thought I was being smooth about it. I've been trying to let you know for a while now, actually."

“Bloody hell. You mean you felt the same all this time? Why on earth didn't you say anything?" You were in disbelief, feeling like you were in a dream. Maybe you had dozed off while reading about The History and Evolution of Enchantments and Charms Throughout the Ages.

"Well, why didn't you?" he asked.

"You've got me there," you said with a quiet laugh, looking down at the ground. After a moment of silence, you glanced up and saw him smiling softly at you.

"So... what's the plan now?" you asked, seeking some clarity.

"You like me, I like you. It's pretty clear, isn't it?" he responded.

You squinted your eyes at him, still not fully convinced.

"Now I can touch you as much as I want, and you can't escape anymore," he said with a mischievous grin, taking a step closer until he stood right in front of you.

"Oh, Merlin. You're a git," you exclaimed, unable to hold back a laugh. "Why on earth do I like you again?"

“Because I’m just that irresistible, obviously,” he laughed, joining in with you.

You placed your hand on his chest and playfully gave him a nudge. But before you could pull away, he surprised you by grabbing your hand. As you looked down at his hand enveloping yours, he posed a question. "So, about you admitting you like me... do you wanna back that up with a kiss?"

"Mhm, I'll have to think about that," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if you deserve it, to be honest."

He grinned cheekily and retorted, "Oh, I definitely deserve it. What have I ever done to not deserve it?"

“Let’s try and remember. Just last week you-”

As you were about to list all the things he had done, he surprised you again by silencing your words with a passionate kiss. In that moment, your thoughts faded into insignificance, consumed by the intensity of the kiss. His hand gently caressed your cheek, deepening the connection between you. Your emotions were running wild, and it felt as if your body was ablaze.

After a moment or an hour, he pulled back, and you took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. Opening your eyes, you gazed up at him.

"Sorry, I interrupted you. What were you saying?" he asked, his playful tone laced with a hint of mischief.

“I can’t remember,” you murmured, connecting your lips with his once more.

You’d been wrong all along—falling for your best friend might have been the best idea of all.

[kateschi]

by god, don't leave me

synopsis: in a heart-wrenching moment of despair, katsuki races through a hospital to find you, only to confront the devastating reality.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: have you noticed how much I love "where is my wife?" angst + major character death btw!!

katsuki’s heart pounds in his chest like it’s ready to explode. his legs push him forward, carrying him through the sterile, cold hallways of the hospital, each step echoing off the walls in a frantic, relentless rhythm.

“where is she?” his voice breaks through the silence, barely held together by a thread. “where is my wife?!”

the nurse at the counter starts to respond, her eyes filled with the kind of pity he can’t bear to see. his face contorts in desperation, and he doesn’t wait for her to explain.

he’s moving, his boots slamming against the floor, refusing to believe—refusing to even consider—that he might be too late.

another doctor, another nurse tries to intercept him, but he’s beyond hearing them. he pushes past, breaking into a sprint, his breath coming in gasps, wild and desperate.

when he reaches your room, it’s as if time stops.

there’s a stillness in the air that hits him like a punch to the gut. he stands there, gripping the doorframe, refusing to believe what he sees.

you’re lying in the bed, so quiet, so still. too still.

he stumbles to a halt, the sight of you stealing the last shred of breath he had left. you're lying there so still, too still.

the life that always seemed to burst out of you—the laughter, the warmth, the damn light—it’s all gone. all that’s left is your body, and that makes him furious, desperate, helpless.

“hey.” his voice trembles as he reaches for you, his hand hovering over your cheek before he finally touches it, cupping your face with fingers that shake uncontrollably.

the warmth he’s looking for isn’t there, the color gone from your skin. “come on,” he whispers, his voice barely a breath as his thumb traces your cheek. “come on, y/n, wake up.”

but you don’t respond.

he bites his lip hard, tasting blood, willing the agony to stop because he can’t let you go.

he’s gripping your shoulders now, his fingers sinking into you like he could hold you here, force you back to life by sheer will alone.

“you… you promised,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “you said we’d grow old together, remember? that we’d be those old, grumpy people who couldn’t stand anyone but each other.”

but there’s no answer, no gentle squeeze of his hand, no reassuring smile. just silence. he presses his lips to your forehead, his hands still cupping your face as if he can anchor you, hold you here with him just a little longer.

“you lied to me,” he murmurs, his voice trembling, harsh, as though he can will you back by sheer desperation. “you said you’d stay with me—no matter what. no matter what.”

katsuki's hands go slack, slipping from your face to the edge of the bed, where his knuckles press white into the mattress.

he stares, his mind refusing to process, searching for any sign that this is all some horrible, twisted joke.

for one unbearable, suspended moment, he almost expects you to stir, to open your eyes with that look that says he’s an idiot for worrying so much.

but there’s nothing. just the faint beep of machines, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the steady ache that presses harder and harder against his ribs, hollowing him out with each passing second.

his fingers curl against the sheets as a tremor runs through him, his breath hitching violently. memories flood in unbidden—moments he thought he’d have time to revisit someday.

how you’d laugh and shake your head when he’d scowl over some trivial thing. how you’d tuck yourself into his side on quiet mornings, your hand pressed against his chest, the sound of your breathing steady against his heartbeat.

katsuki feels his throat tighten as he leans down, forehead pressing against the coolness of your hand.

"we had a whole life planned out," he whispers, voice breaking.

“remember? we’d find that crappy house by the beach, fix it up, make it ours. you were gonna paint the walls bright colors, and I was gonna complain and pretend I hated it."

he lets out a jagged breath, eyes clenching shut as his shoulders shake, the reality tearing through him in waves.

this wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. there was supposed to be more—more days, more late nights, more everything.

“I don’t…” he struggles, voice barely more than a broken rasp, “I don’t want to do this without you.” the words slip out, hollow, stripped of all the fire he’s ever had, leaving nothing but the raw ache underneath.

he presses his face into the crook of your neck, searching for any hint of the warmth that was once there, anything to hold onto, but it’s gone.

and it hits him, like the ground crumbling from under his feet, that you’re really not coming back.

the weight of all he’s lost crashes into him. he thinks of the arguments that meant nothing now, all the times he’d leave you with a brusque goodbye, figuring he’d make it up to you later.

how you’d roll your eyes at his stubborn pride, laughing at how he’d scowl at affection in public yet draw you close the moment he thought no one was watching.

he’d do anything to take it all back, just to hold you again, to let you know he’d trade every bit of strength, every scrap of pride if it meant you’d be here, laughing at him, calling him out on his nonsense.

he doesn’t notice the tears streaking down his face as he stares at you, the silence so absolute it feels like it’s burying him.

the room feels colder now, like the world has shifted on its axis, taking you with it.

for a moment, he wonders if he can even go back to the life you both shared; if he can return to the apartment filled with pieces of you in every room, every corner.

katsuki’s shoulders sag under the crushing weight of it all, fingers curling around the edge of the bed as he takes a shuddering breath. he wants to scream, rage, curse the universe for being so damn unfair.

but all he can manage is a broken whisper. “I should have told you more… should have said it every day. you’d have laughed at me, said I was going—soft.”

he gathers you closer, pressing your body against his own as he begins to sway, rocking gently back and forth as though he can somehow soothe the emptiness inside him.

his chest shakes, the first tears slipping down silently, but then they come harder, a ragged sob tearing from his throat as he buries his face in your neck.

“I love you…” the words escape in a cracked whisper, his breath hitching as he clings to you, his grip tightening, desperate.

“I love you… I love you…” he murmurs, his voice breaking more with each word.

his tears fall faster, his breath coming in shuddering gasps, as if the weight of those words—the words he can never say to you again—is too much to bear.

“I love you,” he chokes out, each syllable fractured, his body trembling as he holds you closer, his tears soaking your shoulder.

his heart shatters all over again with every whispered confession, until he’s clutching you so tightly it hurts, his sobs growing louder, rawer, until he’s left gasping, brokenly repeating, “I love you—I love you, y/n—so much.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[softspiderling]

god, it's brutal out here | r.c.

summary:

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

OR; 5 times your friends share their unsolicited opinions about your and Rafe’s break up.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: mention of c*caine

word count: 5,4k

author’s note: the long awaited sequel of so obsessed with your ex! this can be read as a standalone fic, but there are little easter eggs hidden all over, which will be more fun if you read the first part! it's a little bit longer than I had planned, but there was no way around it. I hope you enjoy it so so much!!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I Wheezie

“Hey Wheeze.”

You had accepted the facetime without looking at your phone, keeping it rested on a shelf while you were halfway into your closet, trying to find a dress.

“Does Rafe have a new girlfriend??”

Pausing, you shut your eyes, letting out a silent exhale before you picked up the phone, giving Wheezie a wry smile through the camera.

“Nice to see you too.”

The girl only looked at you, unimpressed and her arms crossed. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing you didn’t have a way out of this conversation. Grabbing your phone, you sat down on your bed.

“Yes, Rafe has a new girlfriend.”

“I knew it!” Wheezie shrieked, throwing her arms up, and you only shook your head in exasperation. The tendency for drama clearly was in the Cameron genes. Wheezie frowned, getting closer to your phone as she looked at you.

“Why am I more upset about this than you are?”

You bit back another sigh. “Because Rafe and I are broken up, Wheeze. He’s allowed to date other people, matter of fact, I’m really glad that he has moved on.”

“Bullshit!”

“Wheezie!”

Wheezie rolled her eyes, but she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t even know her,” you sighed, rubbing your temple, feeling a migraine coming on.

“This is crazy!” Wheezie exclaimed. “You and Rafe never should’ve broken up in the first place! Rafe is probably only dating her to make you jealous so you’ll take him back.”

You couldn’t help but snort at that, Wheezie clearly watched way too many rom-coms. She frowned at you.

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, this is, like, super un-funny.”

“Because, Wheeze,” you started, plucking a feather out of your pillow. “This isn’t some 90’s rom-com where I see Rafe with Rebecca and suddenly a sad song is playing. This is real life. We are broken up.”

“I still don’t understand why.”

“Remember when we used to fight all the time? And I was just always sad?”

Wheezie was quiet, her lips still pursed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. Couples fight all the time, doesn’t mean you just have to break up.”

“Yes, couples fight all the time and they don’t have to break up, but it was the right decision for me and Rafe,” you said, your tone final. Wheezie looked at you, her frown slowly smoothing down.

“If you say so,” she muttered, not quite convinced. She stared down at her chipped finger nails, before she looked up again. “Can we still talk?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course we can still talk, why wouldn’t we?”

“I don’t know… I mean, you’re gonna find a new boyfriend and maybe he has a younger sister as well and then I’ll just be your ex’s younger sister.”

“Wheeze,” you said, fondly, knowing where she was coming from. You had been in her life for most of her teenage years, it must be weird not having you around anymore. “We’ll still talk, no matter if I get a new boyfriend or not, even if he has a cool younger sister, or even three.”

Wheezie smiled, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re so dumb.”

“Yet you still want me around,” you teased. “How about you, Sar and I go get some ice cream and then to the movies this weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Wheezie replied with a big smile. She paused when someone called her name from somewhere in the house, before she turned back to her phone. “I gotta go, Rose needs me. I’ll text you later.”

“Alright, Wheeze. Talk to you later, be good.”

Wheezie waved into the camera, before the facetime ended. Your smile dropped and you tossed your phone on your bed with a sigh, letting yourself fall back on your bed. Even six months after the break up it was still hard to talk about Rafe, and now that he had a new girlfriend, you thought it’d be easier to get over him, but all it did was hurt more. It didn’t help that Rafe was still texting you every now and then. Nothing scandalous, just small texts, but you never replied. You both agreed on no contact after the break up, because you thought it’d give you a better opportunity to heal. You should’ve known he’d break it. Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, swiping to your messages.

Rafe [11/30/23: 1:43 am]: couldn’t sleep. remember when we took out the boat at two am bc we both drank a red bull at ten?

Rafe [11/30/23: 11:22 am]: sorry, i was drinking. didn’t mean to text you. hope you’re doing good

Rafe [12/25/23: 2:44 pm]: merry christmas. it’s weird without you.

Rafe [01/01/24: 01:02 am]: happy new year’s.

Rafe [01/05/24: 9:56 pm]: are you really not gonna text me back?

Rafe [01/27/24: 3:07 am]: i miss you

Rafe [02/12/24: 12:05 pm]: saw you at the party last night. you looked so fucking pretty. took everything in me not to talk to you.

Rafe [03/01/24: 7:12 pm]: idk if you care or not, but i still wanted to let you know. i’m seeing someone

You never replied to any of the texts, knowing it was for the better. You could block him, but you never brought it over your heart to do so, telling yourself you wanted him to reach you in case of emergency, but deep down, you didn’t want to block him.

Just incase.

II Barry

“Want some C?” Barry asked as greeting, presenting Rafe a small baggie with white powder in it as soon as he walked onto the lot.

“Nah,” Rafe declined, already feeling jittery enough without it, “Won’t say no to a beer though.”

Barry let out a grunt, tossing the baggie on the table, disappearing inside the trailer. Rafe took a seat in one of the chairs, running his hand over his buzzed head, bouncing his leg nervously. He had needed to get out of the house for a while. Ever since Rebecca pulled the picture out of the drawer, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Again.

Which is fucked up, really. He thought he got over you, he didn’t want to be the guy who thought about his ex while having a whole ass girlfriend. The door to the trailer opened with a slam, Barry exiting with two beer cans, handing Rafe one of them. The can was ice cold in his hands, and the cold liquid helped with his racing heart. He let out a sigh, rubbing a thumb over his eye brow. Rafe took another gulp of the beer, almost drinking the entire can in one go, while Barry watched him, assessing.

“You good?”

Rafe nodded, setting the can on the table.

“Yeah, jus’ stressed.”

“Work, or…?”

Barry trailed off without finishing his sentence and Rafe didn’t answer, wiping a finger over his jaw, which was clenched to the max.

Barry eyed him skeptically, leaning back in his chair. “How’s Mrs. Country Club?”

Rafe let out a loud sigh, tipping his head back, like he always did when he was annoyed with Barry.

“Barry, I don’t know if all the drugs you’re taking are starting to get to your memory, but we broke up.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he said, kicking Rafe’s chair. Not hard enough for it to tip over, but hard enough for Rafe to grip onto the arm rests, glaring at his friend. “How’d you know I wasn’t talking ‘bout your new girl?”

“Because you always call her Becky,” Rafe pointed out, giving him a look.

Barry shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. “You still know who ‘m talking about, so what’s the problem?”

“Problem is, it’s disrespectful. You know that’s not her name.”

“You’re still hung up on your ex while dating Becky, so who’s really disrespecting her?”

Rafe’s head shot up and the glare he sent Barry was deadly.

“Fuck this shit, and fuck you,” he snapped, pushing himself up from the chair, but Barry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Boy, sit down.”

Rafe scowled at him, before sitting back down, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He did not come all the way out to the cut to get called out like this.

“If you came here to be coddled, you went to the wrong person.”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” Rafe muttered with an eyeroll. “Just wanted to let off some steam.”

“So?” Barry snorted, waving his hands around. “Steam away.”

Rafe scoffed, scooting down in his chair, shaking his head. “Do you think I want to think of her? I fucking hate feeling like this. Bex is nice, and she’s hot. And yet-”

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

“Nah, you don’t fucking get it, “ Rafe sneered, leaning his head in his hands. And he didn’t, not really. Which really wasn’t his fault. Rafe just didn’t want to talk about the break up with his friends. Physically couldn’t. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t told anyone why you broke up. Just made it feel all to real, he guessed.

“Nah, you’re right, I don’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “All I know is, one day you’re all fucking sunshine and the next you’re more emo than that Friday girl.”

“What?” Rafe asked, lifting his head to stare at Barry in confusion.

Barry waved him off. “You know, that freaky girl from Netflix with the black lipstick.”

“Do you mean Wednesday?”

“Yeah, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, all the same to me,” Barry huffed. “Point is, life’s too fucking short to do things that don’t make you happy.”

“Bex makes me happy.”

Barry gave him a long, hard look, squinting his eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

Rafe stared back at him before shaking his head, finishing the last of his beer before crushing the empty can in his hand, declining to answer, because he knew he couldn’t convince Barry.

He wasn’t even convinced himself.

III Topper

top [05/03/24: 4:06 pm]: gonna be at alex’s later tonight with rafe and rebecca just fyi if you wanted to come

mrs. rafe [05/03/24: 4:57 pm]: k, thanks for letting me know

—— NEW MESSAGE ——

top [05/04/24: 1:37 am]: can you pick me up?

It was Saturday night, a little past your bedtime for a night in. You were getting ready for bed, exiting the bathroom when your phone buzzed in your hand. Lifting it, you read the new text, not quite believing he’d make you do this. What the fuck was he thinking asking you to pick him up? Shaking your head in disbelief, you typed out an answer.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: topper no

Before you could put the phone away, your phone already buzzed with an answer, and you nearly didn’t want to read whatever lame ass excuse he came up with, your hand stilling when your eyes flit over his text.

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: please, i don’t want to get a ride with rafe and rebecca

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: she asked me so many questions about you and i can’t be around rafe rn or i’ll tell him

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:45 am]: … fine

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:47 am]: you’re so annoying

Cursing Topper and yourself for not going to bed sooner, you put on a sweatshirt and grabbed your keys and purse, typing out another text before you headed out of the house, getting into your car.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:49 am]: be there in ten

top [05/04/24: 1:50 am]: omg i owe you <3

Barely ten minutes later, you pulled up in front of Alex’ house, looking out for Topper, before you spotted him underneath a tree. You rolled to a stop next to him, giving him the most unimpressed look.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Topper groaned, getting into the car, shutting the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes, pulling off the curb without another word, driving towards Topper’s house.

“I’m really sorry for asking you to come get me, but Rafe was looking for me and I had too much to drink already to lie in his face,” Topper said, leaning his back against the headrest, shutting his eyes.

You desperately wanted to know what Rebecca had asked but you didn’t want to come off as the nosy ex, even if this was Topper. So as nonchalantly as you could, you asked: “What did you talk about?”

“Jesus,” Topper said, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me how you guys broke up and wanted details, too. Was super insistent, I was kinda scared actually.”

Okay, so just normal sussing out the ex, you could deal with that.

“What did you say?”

“That it was a mutual break up and I didn’t know why you broke up, just that you suddenly disappeared from each other’s lives.”

You sighed. That was the vaguest answer you’d ever heard.

“Why didn’t you just tell her why we broke up?”

Topper glanced at you, his brows knitted together.

“How can I tell her something I don’t know?”

“What?”

You slammed on the breaks, nearly sending Topper flying through the windshield because the idiot hadn’t buckled up, while you stared at him.

“What do you mean you don’t know why we broke up?”

“I don’t!” Topper exclaimed. “Rafe refuses to talk about it and you never told me either.”

“Because I assumed Rafe has told you! It’s been like six months!”

Blinking at Topper, it took you a few seconds to process, jumping when someone honked their horn at you, when you remembered you had stopped in the middle of the street.

“Shit,” you muttered, shifting gears to keep on driving, eyes flitting to Topper repeatedly.

“So…” he started. “Why did you guys break up?”

You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, letting out a deep breath. When you had left to come pick Topper up, you hadn’t expected having to tell him why you and his best friend had broken up.

“I was getting so worried about him. He was so stressed about the company every day, took home so much work and Ward was breathing down his neck to keep the numbers up. I told him that I thought he should take a step back, maybe take a break or something, tried to convince him of going on a trip or something, but the more I said, the more he seemed to be pushing himself into work. It got so bad that we were fighting basically every day, and it just wasn’t working anymore. It felt like we were going in circles.”

You cleared your throat when you felt yourself getting choked up, vision turning a little blurry from the tears in your eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Topper exclaimed, patting himself down, looking for some tissues.

“Don’t worry about it,” you snorted, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You were so wrapped up in trying to retell the break up, you hadn’t even noticed that you already reached Topper’s house. “I shouldn’t even still be getting so worked up over this after all this time,” you sniffed, turning your car off.

Topper looked at you, with that typical look on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe Rafe hasn’t told you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I think he might be in denial about it.”

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Why was everyone so hung up over your break up?

“It’s been six months.”

Topper didn’t reply, his hand on the car door and you expected him to bid you good bye, but that was too easy.

“… Do you think you guys will get back together?”

“He has a girlfriend, Top.”

“Still. I don’t think that Rafe and Rebecca are gonna last very long.” Topper looked at you, pressing his lips together, before shaking his head. “Sorry. Thanks for coming and for getting me home. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small wave, and waited until he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him, before you turned your car on, pulling off.

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the rest of the tears off as you drove home.

IV Kelce

“Kelce!”

Kelce looked up from the pool table, a smile growing on his face when he saw Rafe come down the basement, his friend wrapping an arm around him for a brief hug.

“Happy birthday, man,” Rafe said, handing Kelce a bottle of the expensive whiskey he always drank when he was at Rafe’s but too stingy to buy it for himself.

“Ah shit, you didn’t have to,” Kelce uttered, though his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the bottle in his hands. He handed the pool stick to one of the guys next to him, leading Rafe to the bar. He grabbed two glasses from the shelves, pouring Rafe and himself a good amount, offering one of the glasses to him.

“Cheers to you.”

The two clinked their glasses, before sipping on the whiskey. Kelce really enjoyed it, too, with the way he closed his eyes, and Rafe only snorted in his glass. Kelce peaked his eye open, shoving his friend fondly with a grin.

“Rebecca here?”

“Yeah, upstairs.”

Kelce hummed in thoughts, nodding absentmindedly. He stared into his glass, swishing the amber liquid around before he spoke up again.

“You know she’s here, too, right?”

Rafe tensed, knowing exactly that Kelce was talking about you, but he had expected it. Firstly, because you and Kelce had always been friends, and secondly because he had heard Sarah making plans with you to go together. Didn’t mean this felt any less of a punch to the gut. He really hoped he wouldn’t run into you, because he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do; all he knew was, that Bex wasn’t gonna like it. Rafe cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.

“I figured, yeah.”

“That okay?” Kelce asked, and Rafe was starting to get annoyed, rolling his eyes. Why was Kelce questioning him about you on his damn birthday? He tried to dampen his anger though, not wanting to ruin the night.

“Yes. It’s your birthday, man.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Rafe knew he did a shit job of hiding his emotions, and Kelce eyed him suspiciously.

“I don’t get you guys,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a new girl, but you still haven’t gotten over your ex, clearly, but every time I mention her, you act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but neither of you have said a bad word about the other.

Rafe scoffed, though his heart started to race at the thought of you talking about him. He wondered what you had said, if you cared enough to ask about him, or if you had long moved on.

“Are you ever gonna tell me why you guys broke up?”

“Maybe next time.”

Kelce gave him a wry smile, knowing this was Rafe avoiding the topic again. He lifted his head when more people starting coming down the basement, curling his hand around Rafe’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.

“I really hope you figure it out bro, because this right now is not it.”

He then excused himself to welcome the new arrivals and Rafe gripped his glass, before downing it in one go.

“Alright, who wants to get destroyed in a round of pool?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he approached the pool table. Anything to stop himself from going upstairs to look for you.

V Sarah

“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna keep talking to her forever!”

You gave Sarah a look. She hadn’t even waited a minute after you left Rebecca on the couch before she started talking about her.

“I don’t have a problem with her.”

Sarah groaned, linking her arm with yours as to not lose you in the crowd that has formed in Kelce’s house. You were glancing around, hyper aware that you could run into Rafe any second, but you didn’t want Sarah to notice.

“I don’t understand how you can be so chill. Did you not see the picture she had in her purse?”

You sighed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. Was this ever going to stop? “Sar, please.”

“Hello?? That was super freaky.”

“Maybe she was just cleaning up and wanted to throw it in the trash and forgot it in her purse.”

Sarah laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Bullshit! Admit that you find it weird.”

“Okay, maybe it is a little weird,” you admitted. “But don’t you do things that are a little weird sometimes? Maybe she’s just a little insecure. Which I wouldn’t blame her for, you’re so mean. Shouldn’t you try and be her friend or something?”

“Why? She’s not gonna be around much longer anyways, and I already have a friend.”

You rolled your eyes, fishing your keys out of your purse to unlock your car. Again with the sentiment that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t gonna last much longer. You decided against deeming that statement with an answer and got into your car, with Sarah getting into the passenger seat.

“Do you want to grab some burgers?” She asked, buckling up, like she hadn’t just told you that your ex and his new girlfriend weren’t gonna last.

You gave her a look as you tossed your purse to the back.

“What do you mean do I want to grab burgers? I thought you wanted to leave because you’re meeting John B early in the morning.”

Sarah blinked at you, before she reached out to give you a shove on the forehead. “I was lying so we could get away, stupid.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, starting your car as Sarah protested.

“What? I was getting weirded out by you being all besties with Rafe’s new girlfriend. I don’t even understand how you can be so nice to her knowing she’s all up on your man.”

“Pray tell, who’s my man again?”

“Don’t even,” Sarah huffed. “You guys dated forever, I know you still love each other. And let me tell you one thing,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you. “If you got a new boyfriend? Rafe would not be this nice to him like you were to Rebecca.” With that, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against her seat.

You only sighed, starting your car in silence.

“Do you want to get burgers now or not?” you asked, extending a peace offer while looking over at Sarah. She glowered at you, before nodding with an eyeroll.

“Yes.”

BONUS + I Rafe

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe pushed the pasta on his plate around with his fork, too engrossed in his thoughts to even think about eating. He didn’t even notice how Dennis had stopped talking. Rafe looked up from his plate, only to see Dennis look at him intently, an amused grin on his face.

“Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I was saying a lot, but you seemed like you were on a completely different planet,” Dennis noted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Rafe winced, putting his fork down.

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell,” Dennis mused. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that.”

Rafe sighed, leaning back in his chair. Ever since you broke up, Rafe has been assuming that you didn’t care about him anymore, that you had long moved on from him and your relationship. He thought that you resented him, blamed him for the break up, which was honestly the main reason why he went back to the dating scene so quickly; to get over you. But hearing that you still cared about him? Enough to be nice to his new girlfriend and even ask about him? He wondered if there was still a chance for him and you to be together again.

If it weren’t for the fact that he already had a girlfriend.

“Can I give you some unsolicited advice, son?”

“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked with a wry grin and Dennis only let out a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“Rafe, most relationships these days end because of your own ego, from both parties. No matter how big the fight or problem seems, will it really be that important in hindsight?” Dennis asked him. “How long have you an your girl been together? Almost 5 years, no?”

Rafe nodded, not daring to correct Dennis. He had never outright told him that you had broken up in the first place.

“See, that’s half a decade. I can assure you, in another half, you’re not even gonna remember this fight.”

Yeah, I don’t know about that, Rafe thought.

“Do you love her?”

Turning his ring on his finger, Rafe let out a soft exhale, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”

“See. Problem solved.”

Rafe lifted his head to grin at Dennis.

“Thanks. Is it okay if we cut today short?”

“Sure,” Dennis said, waving Rafe off when he reached for his wallet. “Lunch is on me. Go get your girl.”

“I will,” Rafe promised, pushing his chair back to stand up. “I just gotta take care of something else first.”

BONUS + II You

You were staring at your phone, text thread with Rafe open. It was Saturday night; you and Sarah had went out to a small beach party. Sarah had gone to fill her drink back up and you had used that time of solace to overthink. About Rafe.

For the past few week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And you blamed your friends for it, really. First Wheezie, then Topper and then Sarah? Somehow all of them said that the break up was the worst idea, and even though you had always second guessed the choice to break up, this was the first time you actually actively regretted it.

The way Sarah seemed so sure that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t going to last long. Maybe you were wrong and they weren’t as happy as you thought. But then again, it wasn’t any of your business, was it? Who were you to put your nose into their relationship?

God, you shouldn’t be doing this.

“How long does Sarah need to fill her drink back up?” You muttered to yourself, finishing your vodka soda and burying the cup in the sand next to you, when you heard foot steps approaching.

“Finally! I was about to send a search group out for you!” you exclaimed, standing up and dusting the sand off your lap. “Seriously, how long does it take for-”

You froze when you turned around just to see Rafe standing in front of you, instead of Sarah. Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him, caught off guard.

“Rafe, hey,” you said, opting for casual. “Sorry. I thought you were Sarah.”

The corners of Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I could tell.”

You looked at him, sighing a bit wistfully (mostly) internally, before you shifted on your feet nervously. “It was nice to see you,” you said, and it was true. “But um… I think I’ll go look for Sarah.” You gave him a small smile, before walking towards, and then past him.

“You’re still worried about me.”

You let out a startled laugh, pausing mid-step to turn back to him. “What?”

“You told Rebecca that you were glad that I had her and that you worried I work too much.”

“Of course I’m still worried about you,” you huffed, brushing your hair back. “You can’t be surprised about that.”

Rafe looked at you, and you could tell that this was news to him.

“Rafe.”

Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you were mad at me or somethin’.”

“I didn’t reply to any of your texts because we said we’d do no contact for a while.

“Still,” Rafe muttered, kicking a rock. “I didn’t think it would be so easy for you-”

“And because you were happy with Rebecca, do you think it’s easy for me to see you with someone else?”

“I broke up with Rebecca last week.”

“What?!”

Mouth agape, you stared at him and Rafe only rubbed the back of his neck. “She… Wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Oh,” you only said, letting out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry about that.”

Rafe sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His gaze was trained on the floor for a bit, before he lifted his head to look at you.

“I want to try again… I want us to try again.”

“Rafe…”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide and you didn’t move as Rafe took a step towards you, reaching for your hand. Your fingers were cold in his but they quickly warmed to his touch, and the way he laced his fingers with yours, felt all too familiar.

“I love you. I never should have agreed to breaking up. It was arguably the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“And what’s the stupidest?” you asked, corners of your mouth lifting.

“Not listening to you when you were just trying to help,” he answered, looking down at you, so vulnerable like you hadn’t seen him in a long time. “I rearranged my schedule at the company so I could take on less work, take more time off and relax. Take the time to get us to where we were before it all went shitty.”

Your heart was in your throat as you listened to him talk, unsure what to say.

“Rafe, I don’t know… “

“Baby, please,” he begged, squeezing your hand. “Do you love me, still?”

You scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Why? Because you do?”

“Of course I still love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to ignore your texts? To see you with another girl, so happy?”

Rafe shook his head, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t. Not really.”

You let out another sigh, looking at the way your hands were intertwined, how your heart had stopped racing, before you nodded, looking up at him. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

A smile spread across Rafe’s face, so big it was so uncharacteristic for him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It was like that word switched a flip inside of him, as he grabbed you by your nape gently, to kiss you, slotting his lips against your, and as your lips touched, it felt like you were finally home again. You only pulled away to breathe, both of you staring at each other like you couldn’t quite realize this was happening.

Sarah [05/11/2024: 10:45 pm]: (sent to 4 contacts) [picture attached: blurry photograph of you and Rafe kissing at the beach]

Topper [05/11/2024: 10:46 pm]: thank god.

Kelce [05/11/2024: 10:51 pm]: FINALLY!

Wheezie [05/11/2024: 10:59 pm]: !!!!!!

Barry [05/11/2024: 11:02 pm]: read at 11:02 pm

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: sooo.... what are we thinking?

[ikeuki]

mama a riki behind you ! / 니키

( pairing ) nishimura riki x fem!reader ✶ grumpy x sunshine ; fluff — ( wordcount ) 811

ᯓ★ ikeuki’s note. fake emo alert ‼️ we all saw you giggling through the mirror… // this is my first post teehee ; i will post a proper introduction later on !!

synopsis. riki is so over today—picture day. he encounters someone who he thinks will only make it worse, but surprisingly makes it better?

picture day.

the most useless day, riki liked to call it. he would’ve ditched today but his friends agreed to just take the pictures in the morning and skip afterwards. now he was stuck, standing in this stupidly long line for a two second picture that would be going nowhere except the yearbook. if only he could prevent that from happening too.

riki just slouched against the gym wall, counting the minutes in his head before the period was over. the gym was filled with mindless chatter and camera shutters from every corner.

with common last names, all his friends texted him that they finished hours ago. they had already jumped the school fences and we’re hanging out, leaving riki to be stuck in this humid gym alone.

alas, he closed his eyes in an attempt to at least catch a couple minutes of sleep in these boring moments.

click. clack. click.

his eyes shot open. ‘what the hell is that sound?’ he thought to himself and searched for the maker of the sound.

he looked straight ahead to see you continuously tapping your shoe while holding a compact mirror. you applied a thin layer of lip gloss while trying to arrange your delicate curls in the perfect formation.

riki watched from behind as you panicked when a single strand went the other way. you then pulled out a comb and started fixing your part in a hurry as if this line wasn’t going to take another two hours.

then you began practicing smiles—a toothy grin, no teeth, eye smile, and so on! riki couldn’t help but laugh a little when he saw how seriously you were taking this.

he could tell you worked extra hard this morning to look your absolute best. even though he didn’t really know why you would for a school picture?

he had spotted you around school before, your sweet vanilla scent catching his attention when you walked past him. your curls bounced when you practically skipped to class, clutching your pastel notebooks to your chest and that charming smile you always had when talking and laughing to your friends.

wait. why did riki know that? he shouldn’t didn’t care about some random girl in his grade that smelled like sweet syrup!

nope! it’s just the sleep deprivation.

while posing into your small mirror, you caught the glare of riki, locking eyes through the compact. embarrassed, you shut the mirror and shoved it into your pocket. you refused to look behind you and kept your eyes on some random girl’s head in front of you.

you knew riki. more like you knew of him.

he always hung out with such a questionable collection of people—lee heeseung, park jongseong, park sunghoon, and sim jaeyun. always getting caught ditching class or smoking behind the bleachers. you knew better to steer clear of any of their ways. they weren’t even at school half of the time. spending it all in detentions if they decided to come once in a while.

but weirdly enough, you had a soft spot for riki.

only because you remembered him in elementary school, when he was a smaller, sweeter kid who was known as a ‘dance prodigy.’ your friend had attended the same dance studio as him, so you would always see him when visiting to watch your friend.

you had admired his skill and confidence back then, even developing a small crush on the boy.

but your dreams were soon crushed when you overheard him liking some girl in his dance class. therefore, you hadn’t interacted with him since, only a few lingering glances of acknowledging each others’ presences but avoiding anything more.

you think it may because you’re the only person that remembers him from childhood and who he truly is.

but you could just be thinking too much into it.

luckily, your name was called the next second and you quickly walk away from that awkward interaction. you sighed, fixing your hair for one last time and trying a couple more smiles.

“just smile like you always do.” riki whispered as he walked past you towards the exit.

your body tensed up as his shoulder brushed past yours and he turned slightly to look at you one last time before leaving the gym.

for a second, you thought you were imagining him saying anything but knew you were not hallucinating when he looked back. you stood there thinking of what he meant by ‘always do’ before the photographer snapped you out of your trance.

“ms. y/l/n, please sit in the chair.”

hurriedly, you sat on the little black stool and aligned your feet with the markers taped on the gym floor. you moved a couple strands to frame your face how you wanted it and looked straight at the camera.

“okay…now smile.”

and you did. like you always do.

[ddejavvu]

Tyler Owens and shy reader you say? Who gets flustered every time he looks at them? Who hides their face in his chest to “escape” his gaze? Tyler who wants to kiss her so bad and she’s so flustered.

Hide and Seek - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

Seeing Tyler Owens while out pumping gas was all you'd needed to know that you weren't the type of person to be capable of dating him. He was all outgoing smiles, signatures thrown here and there to an adoring crowd, and you'd tucked your head to your chest as if it would make the tank fill faster to your rental car.

Well, truck, really, because that had been the only vehicle the agency hadn't rented out yet. You'd needed the truck for only a day, just to get to work and back when your car was in the shop, but its gaudy red exterior had caught Tyler's attention and he'd called over to you from the opposite end of the station.

"Hey there, Red. Nice truck you got."

You'd never know scrutiny like you came to know when his entire crew of both teammates and fans turned to watch you, and he seemed to realize that you weren't up for all of the attention.

"We're breaking for ten," He'd called, and evidently that was enough to let his gaggle of fans disperse until their leader was ready to rev his engine again.

He'd hopped down from his own red truck with the stomp of boots on concrete, and you turned back to the pump desperately hoping he wouldn't talk to you. Unfortunately, a group of three people, him and two of his crew, started for you. You'd felt your heart rate pick up but the second they started to move with him he'd shoved them away, a playful maneuver but one that clearly said back off. That's how he'd gotten you alone, ducking his own head to speak with you instead of looking down his nose at you.

"Sorry if I freaked you out there. Didn't mean to get'cha all that attention if you didn't want it. This yours?"

He had whacked the side of the truck so hard you'd been unsure whether the rental agency was going to return it without hassling you for damages.

After a short conversation about the perils of emergency oil changes on a Monday morning, you'd left with Tyler's number that you'd been too scared to text until three days later, as well as a nagging feeling that you were the wrong sort of person to be talking to him.

You still feel it now, when he turns over in his bed to stare at you with his pretty eyes. You feel so terribly bashful even though you've been looking into the same eyes for three months now. You feel your face heating up against his pillow, and even in his barely-awake state he knows you're getting shy when you start adjusting yourself beneath the blankets.

"You're starin' at the sheets again," He observes, a soft smile on his face, "You're tappin' out already? We just woke up."

"I'm just cold," You lie, shifting the blankets around until you can handle meeting his eyes again. When you look up they're even more intense for the grin he's giving you, kind-hearted but all-seeing.

"You're still shy, even when it's just us, darlin'?"

"I'm more shy when it's just us," You laugh, just as honest as it is shaky, "Then there's no one else you're looking at but me."

"I'm starin' at you no matter who else is in the room." He murmurs, and when it only makes your bashfulness worse, he laughs gently and reaches out to pull you across the sheets towards him.

"C'mere. Can't have you runnin' away from me this early in the mornin'."

You allow yourself to be nestled quite snugly into his chest, but before you can relax you must allow yourself a moment's more mortification when you remember that he's bare-chested in bed.

"I can feel your cheeks burnin' up," Tyler laughs, and you feel his words more than you hear them as his chest shakes with laughter against your face, "Oh, baby, you're such a sweet little thing. How long is it gonna take for you to stop blushin' when we kiss?"

"How long are you gonna stay so handsome for?" You ask meekly into his chest.

You're gently, but unceremoniously pulled from his chest as he cups your face, dipping down to nudge his nose against yours.

"You're a flirt." He accuses, grinning from ear-to-ear, "You're a bold, brazen flirt and you're hidin' behind that shy demeanor, aren't you? Shit, now you're makin' me blush, darlin'."

"It's true," You breathe, laughing along though yours is more air than sound, "I just get shy. Like I forget just how handsome you are until you stare at me and then I get all shy again."

"Can't be nearly as handsome as you are beautiful, sweet thing." He murmurs, dipping down even further to press his lips to yours, morning breath and all, "But I've got enough boldness for the both of us. So if you need to hide after every kiss," He fondly notes the way you've planted yourself back in his chest, face ablaze, "Then I'll always be there to coax you back out afterwards. Deal?"

"Deal." You decide, but you're speaking into his chest so it's muffled.

He says nothing, but you feel a soft press of his lips to the crown of your head, and his pinky reaches down to interlock with yours where it rests against his chest, a promise sealed with a kiss.