#did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was makin fun of you but 15 seconds later they we

[angelbabysimon]

okay so taylor wrote midnights for season 2 so true

[maitso]

can i ask you a question?

[theemporium]

[2.3k] when your boyfriend achieves a podium at his home race, it’s only right that you give him the reward he deserves. even if you only have fifteen minutes to do so. (smut)

part two

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He had barely stepped off the podium before you were dragging him into his driver’s room.

Silverstone was always an important race, regardless of the racer. It was a historic track and an iconic race to drive in. It was one of those races—alongside Monaco—that every driver dreamed of winning, of standing on the podium and looking down at the cheering crowds. 

And for Lando Norris, it was also his home race. 

After the struggles the car had been putting him through all season, seeing his smiling face as he climbed off the car behind the number two sign made your heart swell on Saturday after qualifying. Watching him run towards his team, cheering and celebrating and slapping him on the back. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful this season. 

Then Sunday came along and it had been full of nerves and butterflies and silent prayers that your boy would do well, that the team wouldn’t screw him over. 

Truthfully, your faith wavered after the safety car pit stop that put Lando’s car on hards. You stood by his team and his parents, practically watching the release of the safety car between your fingers as you watched your boyfriend be squished between the Red Bull and the Mercedes, both on soft tyres. 

And then the fucking unbelievable happened. 

Your stomach flipped as you watched your boyfriend fend off the seven-time world champion. Your nails were digging into your palms as each corner came and went, and before you even realised it, the checkered flag was waving and Lando Norris crossed the line in P2. 

P2 in his own home race when even McLaren themselves doubted they would be able to pull it off. 

The roars of the crowd was surreal, the way they clapped and chanted as he walked out onto the podium. The way he lifted the trophy over his head, a massive grin split across his face. The way he hit the bottom of the champagne bottle off the podium, soaking himself and his fellow drivers until champagne was dripping off their bodies. 

You don’t think you had ever been as attracted to your boyfriend as you were in that moment, in that snapshot of seeing him be the happiest he had been in months. 

Lando, like the rest of the drivers, had around fifteen minutes to freshen up before they were whisked away to their media duties. 

You weren’t going to waste a single second of it. 

“Baby,” Lando laughed as you tugged him into his driver’s room, the door locked quickly behind you before you turned around to him. “What’s up—mphm.”

Your lips were against his before he could even finish his question. But talking was the last thing on his mind as his hands fell to your waist, bunching the fabric of your dress in his fists as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Congratulations, baby,” you murmured in between rushed kisses, your nails scratching along the back of his neck in the way that made him shiver. “You did so fucking well.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned in such a way that you didn’t know if your heart was going to beat out of your chest or if you were going to clench your thighs together in hopes it did something. “Feeling proud?” 

“So proud,” you mumbled before pulling him closer, but Lando just chuckled slightly.

“Baby, I gotta get changed for media,” he told you, squeezing your hips to exaggerate his point. “Someone is gonna come knocking in ten minutes—”

“So we have ten minutes?” you interrupted, your eyebrows raised in questioning.

“I mean, technically—” he started but that was more than enough. 

“We can do a lot in ten minutes,” you said to him, your eyes wide and eager and he felt something in his stomach clench. 

“Yeah?” he rasped. 

“Yeah, baby,” you grinned before you leaned forwards, your lips meeting his in a slower, meaningful kiss. “Let me show you how proud I am.” 

Lando gulped, only nodding his head in response. 

“Words, Lando. I need words.” 

“Fuck, please,” he all but whined as he ducked his head back down to meet your lips again. 

The grip he had on your hips was desperate, fuelled with a newfound need to have you. Ten minutes was more than enough time, plus the media team could always talk to the other drivers first. He wanted you, he needed you and he was going to have you—consequences be damned. 

The noise he let out was almost like a whimper, need and want so clear in his voice as the heel of your palm stroked along his length through his thick face suit. 

“Baby—“ Lando wheezed out, his eyes clenching shut as you began to undo the zipper of his suit. 

“Gonna give you want, pretty boy,” you murmured, your lips falling down to the skin peaking through his race suit as you finally began to start shrugging it off his shoulders. You leaned closer, kissing down his jaw and the column of his neck as your hands worked on getting him undressed. “Gonna make you feel good.” 

“You always do,” he breathed out, his voice a little shaky as he helped you pull his arms out, pushing the race suit until it was pooling at his knees. But before he could even try removing it the rest of the way, a hand on his chest stopped him. 

He watched you, his eyes focused on you like a hawk as your fingers traced along the waistband of his boxers. He reached for you, reached for the skirt of your dress but you swatted his hands away before he could even make a move. He opened his mouth, a small pout on his lips but he quickly fell quiet as he watched you sink to your knees. 

“Baby—”

“Be a good boy and stay quiet for me, yeah?” you asked, looking up at him with such an innocent expression that he could’ve blown his load there and then. 

“Promise,” he murmured, his heart beating against his ribs. “Gonna be your good boy.”

And you just smiled. A simple fucking smile and Lando knew that regardless of what you did, he wasn’t going to last long at all. 

His back was pressed against the thin wall of his driver’s room, his hands tightened into fists in his hand as he watched you. The way your nails traced along the length of him over his boxers, the way your eyes lit up as his cock jumped at the simple act. The way you leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his clothed length as your hands wrapped around his thick thighs, watching the way he squirmed under your touch.

“Please,” he whined.

But you didn’t listen, your nails lightly raking up and down his thighs as his legs shook with a strong desire he had never felt before. He needed you. He needed to be inside you. He didn’t think he needed anything more than he needed you right now.

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, slowly tugging the material down his legs until it was pooled at his knees with the rest of his race suit. He let out a soft hiss as the cool air hit him, the tip of his cock already leaking a small bead of precum. 

But before he could even get used to the cool sensation, you were leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, letting it lay heavy on your tongue.

“Shit,” Lando whined, his hips bucking on instinct and it was your hands pushing him back against the wall that made his eyes snap back open. He looked down at you, the tip of his cock in your mouth and your wide eyes staring at him, and he was starting to wish this was how every race ended. 

You bobbed your head further along the length of him, your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as the tip brushed against the back of your throat before you pulled back. You pulled back until his tip was brushing against your lips, a thin line of salvia connecting them both as your hand moved to replace your mouth.

“You know what I want?” you asked, your voice a little raspy and low and it only made the blood rush to his cock. “You know all I thought about when you were up there?”

“What?” Because he knew, no matter what you asked, he would give you. He would give you anything you asked when you were on your knees in front of him with your hand wrapped around his cock.

“You,” it was as simple as that, if it weren’t for the fact you were reaching for his hands, slowly prying his fists open and guiding them towards you. “You taking out all that extra energy…on me.”

His stomach coiled in desire. “Baby—”

“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your tongue darting out to collect some precum leaking from his tip. “Just need to feel you inside me.”

And who was Lando to deny you? Who was he to not give you what you so desperately wanted and desired?

There was a voice in the back of his head that tried to remind him where he was. The same voice that was reminding him he had duties to uphold, he had journalists to talk to, he had a podium to celebrate with his team. The same voice that was reminding him that the locks on the driver rooms aren’t absolutely secure, that a hearty shove would be enough to get past it.

And yet, that voice in the back of his head was the last thing he was focused on.

Not when his pretty girlfriend was on her knees in front of him. Not when he had his fingers tangled in her hair as he guided her head up and down his cock. Not when his hips were thrusting, the debauched and needy sounds you were making as his cock hit the back of your throat echoing through the small room.

Not when Lando wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned, the muscles in his thighs tensing as he reached closer and closer to the edge. “Feel so fucking good for me, so fucking good for me, baby.”

You moaned, the noise muffled and garbled but he felt the vibrations along the length of him all the same. You pushed your hands under his fireproofs, your nails scratching down his toned torso as his abs clenched softly under your touch.

“Like you were fucking made for me,” he muttered out, his voice a little breathy and whiny as he found himself clenching his eyes shut. “Shit, baby—”

His head fell back against the wall with a soft thump as he came, his cock still deep down your throat as he spilled inside your mouth. The noises he let out were pathetic and needy as his hips bucked up as your tongue teased the tip of his cock. He slumped back against the wall, his chest rising and falling with heavy pants and little white dots blurring his vision.

He let out a soft whimper as you finally pulled away from him, pressing a chaste kiss against the head of his cock before you began to pull his boxers back up. He let out a noise of aversion, trying to bat your hands away and instead pull you closer to him which he allowed.

“Lando—” you started but you didn’t get far before he had both hands on your cheeks, pulling your face to his so he could kiss you. He didn’t even care if he could taste himself on your tongue, he just needed to kiss you.

“I love you,” he sighed wistfully against your lips in between kisses.

“I love you too,” you murmured before pulling away, a hand on his chest to stop him from trying to kiss you again. “You need to go.”

He looked like a kicked puppy. “Why?”

“You have media, Lando,” you murmured with a soft smile, looking at your boyfriend’s flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. You almost felt bad that you would have to send him out like that. 

“Fuck the media,” he grumbled as he tried to lean down again, but you stopped him once again.

“Your team will kill you,” you snorted, shaking your head. “Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Lando let out a huff. “You give me the best goddamn blowjob of my life and expect me to just go about my life like everything is normal.”

You patted his chest. “You’ll survive.”

He sighed dramatically. “Barely.”

“Tell you what,” you said as you watched your boyfriend scamper around the cramped room to make himself look somewhat presentable before he headed out towards the media pen. “If you go out and be a good boy and do all your media duties, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.”

Lando paused, glancing up at you. “Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want,” you murmured, leaning to kiss him one last time before he left. “But only if you’re on your best behaviour.”

“Deal,” he blurted out quickly, a giddy smile spread across his face and something almost like mischief shining in his eyes. 

“That’s my boy,” you said with a fond smile. “My winner.”

Lando snorted. “I was P2, baby.”

“Like a winner to me, anyways,” you shrugged before you leaned down to playfully smack his ass as he walked past. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Norris.”

He flashed you a cheeky smile. “Keep ‘em up here, darling.” 

And you could only laugh when he barrelled back into his driver’s room two hours later, grinning like a cheshire cat as he did so.

“A deal is a deal, baby, gotta pay up now.”

So you did.

.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Hii I have an unwell organized prompt:

Melissa and the reader at a game, there is a kiss cam, they kiss, the reader gets scared ‘cause someone can notice she really likes Mel. A lot of comfort please and thank you ❤️

The Kiss Cam

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Like one swear word

The problem, you were beginning to realise, was that you were incapable of saying no to Melissa. She looked at you with those green eyes and asked you in that voice and you just melted, letting her do whatever she wanted. You’d agree to anything if she only asked you with that small smile you’d grown to love.

All of which meant you were squeezed into the stands as a hockey game was played below on the ice. Her arm was pressed to yours and you could hear her shouting down at the players. When she’d asked in the staff room if you’d come with her you’d nodded, not considering the fact you hadn’t ever watched a hockey game in your life.

The air prickled at your skin, cold enough to make you shiver and curl up in your coat. The crowd was loud and there was the scent of popcorn and processed meat on the air. Melissa kept leaning closer, whispering in your ear, explaining the game to you. None of it was sticking in your brain, not with her so close, her breath warming your skin, her hair brushing against your shoulder. You wanted to freeze the moment, live in it forever.

Surging out of her seat, she cheered as the puck found home in the back of the net. She looked down at you, wide smile on her face and you couldn’t help but grin back. It was like the rest of the crowd wasn’t cheering, fading away as you stared up at her, nothing but her real to you. Sitting, her arm pressed to yours, warm in the otherwise cold air. You found yourself leaning into her warmth, not able to help it. Every atom of yours wanted to be close to her.

“Watch Hart in goals. He won’t let a single one in,” she murmured in your ear, pointing down one end of the rink.

You looked where she was pointing, not sure you were seeing what she was. Sure, the goalie was stopping the other team from scoring but you couldn’t see whatever skill Melissa was seeing. Still, the feeling of her breath against your skin was sending your heart into a frenzy.

A cheer went up from the crowd and you couldn’t figure out why. No one had scored a goal. You’d been watching to make sure you didn’t miss it again.

“I can’t wait to see which dumbos they get up on there.”

She nudged you, nodding up to the big screen above the rink. A kiss cam. You laughed, watching a couple kiss, the man shoving his tongue into her mouth. Melissa tutted, shaking her head and she lent back, arms crossing over her chest. You did your best not to notice the way it pushed her ample chest upwards.

It took her elbow nudging you to notice that the image on the screen had changed. In fact, it had changed to two very familiar people. Your cheeks heated immediately, shaking your head at your own face displayed for the entire crowd to see. Melissa chuckled under her breath, arm snaking around your shoulders.

“Come on then, hon,” she said, “pucker up.”

You wanted to argue but then thought it would look even weirder if you didn’t. Would everyone know about the crush you’d been harbouring on Melissa since the day you’d met her if you didn’t? Would she know?

Rather than continuing to think about it, you let forward until you felt the warmth of her breath. Her lips were soft when they brushed against yours. You made a small noise when her tongue ran along your bottom lip, leaving you breathless and head spinning. A cheer went up from the crowd and you pulled back, practically jerking away from her.

You felt your cheeks burning and your entire body was an electric wire. You looked away from Melissa, not sure you could handle looking at her when you could still feel the press of her lips lingering on yours. You look a long sip from your soda, looking down at your feet.

She shouted something down at the ice and you sighed, shifting as far as you could from her in the tiny seat. She was so close, her perfume wafting towards you. You glanced down at the ice then back at her. She was so beautiful and yet you knew none of it was for you. Of course it wasn’t. Melissa would never like you like that. She could have her pick of people. No way would she choose you.

A gross feeling settled in your stomach. You shifted in your seat again. You didn’t like the way your skin felt or the beating of your heart. You swallowed past a lump in your throat, doing your best to push down the rising feelings in your chest. It was all feeling overwhelming and you could taste her on your lips. You needed space.

You needed to get out.

“Sorry,” you whispered to her, “I have to go.”

You stood, ignoring her surprised look, doing your best to shuffle past the people sitting in your row. She called after you but you ignored it, speeding up until you reached the stairs. You weren’t running but it was a close thing as you did your best to put some distance between yourself and Melissa. You couldn’t stand spending another moment sitting so close to her when the ghosts of her lips were haunting you.

Pushing out of the arena, you hurried out into the parking lot, frantically digging through your bag for your keys. Someone shouted your name behind you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you dug further, desperate to find the cool metal you needed. A hand grasped your wrist, turning you until you were staring into fiery green eyes.

“Oi, what gives?” Melissa demanded.

“I’m sorry, I just… I have to go. I’m not feeling well,” you said, not quite lying but definitely not telling the truth.

“You sure or was kissing me that bad?” she asked.

“No,” you yelped. There was no way you could admit that kissing her had been that bad. Or rather, than had it had been the opposite of bad and if you weren’t careful she’d figure out how much you wanted to d it again.

“I know you probably didn’t want to kiss me but this is just childish. You can’t avoid me when we work together. I thought we were friends, hon.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but looking up you found pain swimming in her eyes. Her fingers tightened for a moment before she released you, practically throwing your arm back at you. Her lips pressed together and the anger returned to her eyes.

“I’m not some schmutz you can trick. I know someone like you wouldn’t be interested in me but you could have pretended not to be disgusted after kissing me. You should have just said no,” she said.

“I wasn’t disgusted,” you said, “I’m not disgusted at all.”

“Then what’s going on? You couldn’t get away from me fast enough. You wouldn’t even look at me afterwards.”

She crossed her arms, glaring at you, waiting for your answer. There were no words, nothing you could say that would explain your behaviour. Running off had done the exact opposite of what you’d been hoping. There was no way she wasn’t going to figure out that you had to leave or else you might do something stupid like kiss her again.

“You got nothing to say?” she demanded.

You silently shook your head. Her nostrils flared, staring at you hard enough to crush your lungs. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. She scoffed, storming past you, her shoulder slamming into yours. All you could do was watch her retreating back before it hit you why your car keys hadn’t been in your bag.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.

You chased after Melissa, doing your best to ignore the way the denim of her jeans clung to the shape of her ass. She was doing her angry walk and you were terrified to make your request to her.

“Melissa,” you said, gently touching her shoulder as you caught up to her.

“What?” she snarled, turning on you.

“You’re my ride,” you said, doing your best not to cower under her glare.

“You can find some other way to get home,” she snapped.

“Mel, please,” you said.

“Don’t call me that,” she said, taking a step away from you.

You hadn’t meant for the nickname to slip from your lips. You hadn’t ever called her that in real life. In your head, sure, but to her face was a whole other matter. Being too familiar with her was the first step down a road that terrified you.

All those months working at Abbott and you’d found yourself slipping, letting more and more of your guard down around her. It was impossible not to. You were drawn to her. Her eyes would sparkle and she’d smile at you and you were a goner.

“Sorry, I just… Please. I’m sorry. I reacted badly and I didn’t mean to. But it’s not about you. I promise,” you said.

“Then what is it about?” she demanded.

“It’s… hard to explain,” you replied, curling your arms around your body, hoping to hold yourself together.

“Try.” Her voice brooked no argument. It was either saying something or lose her forever.

“Fine but… promise me this isn’t going to change things between us. It’s my problem to fix. I don’t want you to hate me,” you said, anxiety curdling in your stomach.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

You took a deep breath, arms tightening around your body until you could feel the squeeze. She was watching you intently. You couldn’t look at her, staring down at your shuffling feet.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss you or that I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, it was the opposite. I like you. Like, a whole lot. And I thought after kissing you then you’d realise how much I like you which in retrospect has worked out really badly for me since now I’m telling you. But the point is, is that I’ll get over it since you clearly don’t feel the same way and nothing has to change with us and we can just forget about it. Because it’s not about you. It’s all my fault.”

Your confession tumbled clumsily from your lips, landing in a pile at your feet. You held your breath, frozen under her watchful gaze, not able to look at her properly. Your arms tightened again, digging into your ribs uncomfortably, keeping you on edge.

“What are you talking about, hon?”

A warm hand closed around your forearm, tugging it away from your body. You let her, your problem with saying no to her rearing its ugly head once again.

“It’s just a silly crush,” you said, wishing it was true, “I’ll get over it.”

“You’ll get over it? You think that’s what I want?” she asked.

“Don’t you?”

You peered up into her face, trying to figure out what it was she wanted you to say. She wasn’t quite meeting your eye, looking at something over your shoulder. Her fingers were pressing into the vulnerable skin on the underside of your arm and it was making you both breathless and on edge.

“I might not,” she replied, still being evasive.

“Okay, well, I don’t really know what you want now,” you said.

You didn’t like the way uncertainty stuck to you. You tried to tug out of her hold but she only held on tighter.

“Mel,” you said, “what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to tell you something,” she replied, “just give me a second.”

You waited, the anxiety in you creeping up. You’d basically exposed your hand to her and she was leaving you to stew in it. The silence was deafening, a pressure pushing against you until you wanted to curl into a ball and hide. The longer it drew on, the more you wanted to pull away from her.

Not if this was just about her rejecting you.

“Look, Mel, I-“

You were cut off as her lips pressed to yours again. Freezing, a million thoughts ran through your head, the loudest of which was that whatever was happening was some kind of prank or delusion. The hand on your arm pulled you closer until you felt her warmth seeping into your body.

“Mel,” you mumbled against her lips.

She drew back from you, hurt flashing over her face before anger replaced it, a mask to cover her vulnerability. You weren’t sure what to do, if you should reach out to her or not. Your indecision seemed to seal the deal for her. She grabbed her hand back, drawing away from you.

“No, wait,” you said, grabbing her, “I don’t understand.”

“I like you too, hon,” burst from her lips, the anger and the hurt mingling until it was like a spear she was throwing at you.

But it landed like a caress against your skin.

“You like me too?” you asked, not quite able to believe it.

“I asked you to spend time with me on a weekend,” she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Was this a date and I didn’t realise?” you asked.

“Hon, you’ll know when I take you on a date,” she replied.

“So you wanted to kiss me then? You don’t care that I like you?” You needed to be sure.

“I care that you like me a whole lot, hon,” she said, “just not for the reasons you think. I want you to like me. I just didn’t think you did.”

“But you kissed me,” you protested.

“For the kiss cam. Those chumps in there boo anyone who doesn’t kiss. I thought a quick one would be better than that,” she replied.

“You brought your tongue into it,” you accused her.

“Yeah, because you’re hot and I thought you might like it. And if you liked it maybe you’d say yes to going out some time,” she said with a small shrug. You felt your lips tug up into a smile.

“How about you try kissing me again and we’ll see if that works,” you suggested.

Her hands were gentle as they came up to cup your cheeks. You waited, holding still until her lips brushed against yours. You lent into her, your tongue running along her lower lip in a mirror of hers earlier. Her mouth opened under yours, tongues brushing together. You moaned into her mouth, hands landing on the curve of her hips, pulling her closer.

Loud cheering startled you, a group of people bursting from the door of the stadium. You jerked back from Melissa, staring at them over your shoulder. With her hands still on your cheeks, she turned your face back towards her, laying another searing kiss on your lips.

“Come on, hon. I’ll drive you home,” she murmured against your lips.

“Or maybe you could take me out to dinner,” you said.

“I’ll think about it,” she said but she was smiling at you with a twinkle in her eye.

Her fingers threaded through yours, tugging you towards her car. There was a bounce in your step as you followed, biting down on your bottom lip to try and contain your smile. You did a really bad job of it.

[snailsrneat]

Yandere Vil Schoenheit Headcanons

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

TW: Kidnapping, Stalking, Posioning

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I think if anyone got literally any of the overblot boys as their yandere they'd be pretty fucked.

Mostly because the overblot boys hold a lot of power and have tons of magic.

Vil, specifically, however is one of the few who won't ever use his magic on you.

No instead he'll just use potions on you (:

When you two first met, it wasn't exactly love first sight, more like first word.

Cause when he saw you, he wasn't impressed.

'This is the prefect everyone's been so obsessed over? Really?'

He honestly thought that you'd be more impressive, more magnificent and elegant if you will.

His first impression of you however immediately changed when you had begun barking orders at fellow freshman in an attempt to defeat him.

Never once has he seen a freshman, one as weak you, calling the shots amongst the student body.

Something must be different with you. And he had to figure out what.

From then onward he recruits Rook to spy on you and learn what your day-to-day patterns are like.

In the process Rook also listens in and learns all your secrets. All of which he reports to Vil.

The Vil learns about you the more he falls in love with you.

He obsesses over every single detail of you, from little moles in unseen places to the formation of stress wrinkles crowding over your forehead.

Every minute detail that he can find, he wants pepper with kisses and tell you just how weak in the knees you make him.

A part if him feels silly for getting weak for someone as mediocre as you, but the other half of him wants to steal you away and lock you in his bedroom so you never have to be troubled by those horrible boys you call "Friends".

In fact...that's a fantastic idea! Why hasn't he thought of this before? That way he can watch you up close.

No longer will he need Rook to do all his stalking, not when you're already here and so close.

When he kidnaps you he does it under the guise of you try a new tea blend he was given. But, unfortunately for you, the tea just so happens to be spiked.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry dear, I didn't think one of my own fans would try to spike my tea! Here let me help you get to the infirmary~"

He's an actor so he's very good at being melodramatic.

Instead of waking up in the infirmary, you wake up his bedroom, with your arms chained to the bed posts and dressed in expensive satin pajamas.

When Vil comes into the room and notices your struggling, he chides you for bruising you beautiful skin.

He doesn't release you from the chains, but he does his best to keep you comfortable.

"Only the best for you, darling. You shouldn't worry yourself with such needless things. What you should be thinking of is me, and only me. Understand?"

If you ever try to escape, don't.

I'm warning you, if Vil catches you trying to escape it'll be worse than just staying chained to his bed all day.

It's even more terrible if you've been getting "closer" with him recently, because now he knows that he shouldn't trust you fully. Ever.

If he catches you, he'll no longer allow you to be comfortable.

Instead of that nice comfortable bed, you sleep in a dog cage in the corner of his room.

And the days have started to blur together now, he started poisoning your food to make sure you don't do anything.

Most days your too tired to anything, let alone fight back or come up with escape plans.

If he has to start treating you like a baby he doesn't mind, he likes making you depend entirely on him.

"You know you did this to yourself, right? Trying to escape was a foolish endeavor and you must face the consequences of your actions..aw, you're crying darling. Don't cry, it'll give you wrinkles. Don't worry my love, this hurts me more than it hurts you. Now drink this."

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

[bunnys-writing]

Hi aether!!

Would it be okay to ask for a Lyney x reader whos insecure about their face because they think that lyney is WAYYYY prettier than them and is overall just insecure abt their looks ever since before they met? Thank you !!

"My Shining Star"

...in which you, a self conscious Fontainian, feel as though your lovely boyfriend is too lovely for someone like you, and he just can't have you thinking like that on his watch.

(a/n at the bottom!)

Lyney is a man easily described as charismatic and charming. He encapsulates what it means to be confident, and his every move is flawless by design. His show run with his siblings has been deemed dozens of times over the best show in the Court of Fontaine, and what's more, he has clear set goals, ambitions, bonds, and ideals.

And then there's you. You're quiet, more reserved than he appears to his crowd. In a world of dazzling gems, you feel like you're more akin to a jagged rock, and yet, he pursued you.

For months, really, you thought he was joking. A trick to lure you into his mind games, a ploy to make fun of you, but there was a quiet sincerity in his eyes that made you wonder if maybe it wasn't as fake as you believed.

And it wasn't. Months of courting you eventually had you lower your guard and take him up on his invitation. A date.

Well, the date went far better than either of you could've hoped, and it was shortly after that you became partners. He was your loyal, joyful boyfriend, and you were his favourite thing in the world.

For a while, it was great. You attended his shows, and he dedicated every single one to you and his family. He always made sure he knew where you were sitting in the crowd so he could blow you a kiss, even if the people near you swooned on your behalf to insist it was for them.

Was it for them?

That thought planted the seed.

It took days for Lyney to notice your withdrawals; the way you avoided his eyes, didn't linger on his kisses or cuddles. It was about as subtle as a house on fire, in his defense.

Then you stopped attending as many shows, stopped spending nights at his house, started looking in mirrors and numbers on scales and spots on your face, and by the end of two months of Lyney hoping for you to tell him, he decided he couldn't stand watching his partner tear themself apart like this.

"Knock knock," Came a singsong voice at your door. He didn't want to scare you, so he kept his tone jovial. "Hope you don't mind me letting myself in, my dear."

You looked at the magician in slight surprise, then at your mess of an appearance with embarrassment. "Lyney! I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were coming over, I would've tidied up a little more if I did..."

"Nonsense, dove! We've been dating for months now, you don't owe me a saving face." Lyney walked over to you, closing the door behind him and sitting on your bed next to you.

The second the door was closed, your boyfriend shed the persona he held. His eyes softened, his stature relaxed, and he lost the formalities. He brushed a hand to your cheek lovingly, and when you shifted to move your face away, he immediately retracted to his own disappointment.

"(Y/N)...I need to talk to you about something."

You felt fear and guilt crawl up your stomach to infect your lungs. Tangled in this dread, you said nothing. Lyney took it as an open invitation.

"You've been acting strange lately...You weigh yourself, you're less inclined to eat or to leave the house, you seem...you seem low."

Lyney didn't touch you. He put a hand next to yours as an offer and left it there. He could tell something was wrong, even in the darkness of the room. You looked so...sad. It ached for him to see you like this.

"Did someone say something to you? Do something?"

No. And that was the stupid part. This was entirely self afflicted. You drove yourself down this spiral.

"...no." You despised the way your voice sounded so gravelly. "I'm just...not feeling great."

"What happened, (Y/N)? Please, talk to me."

You unfurled yourself, your knees left your chest to splay onto the mattress, and your hands travelled to fridget in your lap. Lyney moved to face you a little bit more.

"It's just...I don't know. You're really pretty, and I see how people look at you, especially when you're with me. The people at your shows, at the markets...they know I don't deserve you, Lyn."

There was a long silence. Then, a cautious hand on yours.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

You looked at your boyfriend, who seemed to be saddened a great deal from your words, but still smiling stubbornly despite.

"...Anything."

"I'm quite self conscious myself."

Now you were sure he was lying. You watched him carefully for any hint of a lie, but you couldn't discern it. With widening eyes, you realised he was telling the truth.

"Wha-...How? You're so beautiful and charming, and your smile is so bright it warms anyone who sees it!"

"Funny, that's exactly what I think of you."

A deep red burns your cheeks as you realise you've been caught, and your boyfriend laughs, bringing you closer in his arms.

"I know how it feels to feel like you're lesser than the people you love. To feel like the world would continue without a change if you were to fade away. But you're my shining star, and I love you so much. All of you."

Lyney plants gentle kisses on your palm, to your wrist, then to your cheek, catching you off-guard and flustered. He gives a sort of half chuckle at your expression. You see love fill every bit of his eyes as he gazes at you.

"I love you so much, (Y/N). Don't ever think any less, 'kay?"

"Yeah...I love you too, Lyney."

Man oh man I apologise for how long this took! Writing for Lyney was super fun, so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it.

A gentle reminder that you are never not enough, and you're perfect just the way you are no matter what anyone (including you yourself) has to say about it! ♡

Thanks for reading! 🫶

REQUESTS OPEN, check pinned for more info!

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

Might I have hcs of Bosch, Ed and Luke(or you can do one of them, if that's what you're comfortable with!) having a short s/o? My 4'11 ft ass thinks that hugging them would be like having them as heavy blankets <3

combining these two asks together! man, low 5ft, am i short? is 5'3 considered short? no one in the comments answer that. i will not be responding ( ; ω ; )

Bosch - 5'7 ft

Compared to Bosch, your height difference is relatively reasonable.

He's actually a lot more conscious about your height than you were and has an overwhelming urge to protect you because of it. 

The first time he noticed your height, was when you two were hauling large equipment around the gym. And you stubbornly huffed, saying you could help despite Coach’s warnings.

So now here you were, crumbling under the weight of the heavy machinery. 

“Lift it higher, it’s slacking on your side.” He said, adjusting his grip in case it spontaneously fell. 

“This is literally the highest my arms can reach.” 

Safe to say, he doesn’t let you get near the equipment room after it came crashing down on your feet. 

Whenever you talk to him, he glances at the top of your head before shooting back down to your eyes.

And one time mid-conversation he reached down to pat it. 

You were just so...tiny.

But he snapped out of his thoughts and pulled his hand back embarrassingly after he realized what he had done. Please don't ask him about it because he didn’t know why he did that either.

Bosch thinks the biggest problem he’s encountered regarding your height, had to be moving through large crowds. Mostly because he lost you a couple of times due to how easily you blended in with everyone else.

He even makes sure to hold your hand when walking in front of you, so you don't get pushed apart.

He does give you more leeway than other people due to your height.

Like when you mess up something of his or accidentally wear his gym clothes.

Bosch isn't too tolerant of most people but he won't be as harsh on you.

And if someone brought it up to him, he just shrugs and says "So?" 

But regardless of it all, Bosch is still the small spoon in bed. 

He likes the feeling of being cradled in your arms, as he pulls you closer, with his hands linked around your torso. He finds comfort in you all the same, but now there's a hint of protectiveness that comes with it.

Ed - 6 ft

Ed honestly thought you were a kid when you first approached him and he told you to run back to your parents because he wasn't in the mood to babysit you.

So yeah, he knows firsthand how people see you.

That whole thing, about losing you in a crowd doesn't happen because you two would never be caught in one in the first place.

Partly because he hates being in them and no crowds of people ever formed at night.

Although he doesn't constantly make jokes at your expense, he does tease you about it every once in a while. Like when you stand on your tiptoes in an attempt to kiss him.

And instead of giving in to your whims, he'll sit back and watch you struggle.

"Need something?"

Ed knows what you're trying to do, he's just being a dick about it. He wants to see how long you’ll drag this out before he finally relents.

He hates to be the one to say it, but you need to work on your intimidation. No one’s going to take you seriously because of your height. 

But that’s completely different than when he sees people babying you because he’ll shut that shit down immediately.

Calls you 'cute' nicknames like Runt, Maus, and Half-Pint.

Ok, maybe they’re not that cute, but he doesn't give many people nicknames. So…yay?

Your height, in a sense, does make you appear younger. 

And he finds it funny when Bar owners ID the group because he knows they’re trying to single you out. 

Most of his clothes are big on you when you wear them, and his blankets/comforters practically bury you under their weight. You almost gave him a heart attack when he flopped down on his bed, only to hear a muffled squeak from under the covers. 

He looms over you like a threat when he sees people wandering too close. Yeah, you can pack a punch, but it still gnaws at him how easily someone could snatch you up. So you need to be in his line of sight whenever you're hanging out with him.

He may be a bit paranoid but that's because he cares, believe it or not.

Luke - 6'1 ft

If you didn't know you were short before, Luke would've 100% told you that you were.

The first time he considered your height to be an issue was when he saw you struggling to close your fist. He lent you some of his old wraps, so you don’t mess up your hands and land yourself in the ER. 

But when you couldn't throw a proper punch, he undid them, thinking you wrapped it all wrong.

Turns out his hands were much bigger than yours. Much bigger. To the point it practically engulfed yours. So his wraps were close to useless since the extra fabric accumulated around your knuckles. 

He ended up buying you a new set to fit your hands better and taught you various ways to secure it so it doesn't slip off. 

It's just the small things like that he doesn't usually think twice about, that he now has to consider.

He would also have to adjust the equipment in the gym so it’s leveled with your height.

Wouldn't want his top student falling behind, now would he?

Loves the way his clothes engulf your form when he drapes them on you. And laughs at how you're practically drowning in it.

Don't be fooled. Even though he's your coach, he's your boyfriend first. So he's not above making comments about your height. "Woah, Didn't see you down there." , "You should drink more milk, I heard it's good for your bones."

Hey, don't get so defensive now. He was just messing with you.

He'll wrap his arms around your waist and hoist you up. Your cute surprised reactions are enough for him to pepper your face in kisses.

Luke is the kind of guy who, if you ask for help to reach something on a shelf, will take it and put it on a higher one. If not, he would hold it over your head and ask for a kiss before he handed it over to you.

All in all, your height is one of the many reasons he adores you and he wouldn't want to change a thing about it.

Jamie - 5'9 ft

Being short around this guy should be written off as a form of corporal punishment, especially for the hell he's going to put you through as long as you're with him.

He's not even the tallest one of the bunch, but he definitely acts like it.

Jamie has an unlimited supply of short names ranging from Ankle-Biter to Short-Stuff. All of which were intended to piss you off.

Occasionally, this guy would scoop you up, saying how cute and tiny you were.

He uses your shoulder as an armrest when leaning on you and laughs if you make a fuss about it.

During the Lunar New Year, the festivities in Hong Hu Lu partied well into the night. Meaning, most of the seats available for the public were being used by the partygoers.

Wanting to find a place to enjoy your food, you asked Jamie if you could use the chair he was sitting on. 

And with a shit-eating grin, he tells you no, but you could sit on his lap for the time being.

Watch out because he'll randomly pinch your cheeks mid-conversation. 

Jamie purposely takes pictures of you from the top to show you how you look from his POV.

Because of your short stature, he gives you piggyback rides back to your apartment whenever you fall asleep beside him.

It’s all fun and games when it’s just you and him because you know he’s not actively trying to hurt your feelings. 

But he doesn’t take too kindly to those who think they can comment on your height.

Hypocrite, he knows, but that’s because he’s your boyfriend so he gets a pass. Not so much other people.

Overall a teasing boyfriend, but in his opinion, your height is definitely one of the best qualities about you.

[frankieburieshisdead]

✮ Hobie Brown x male!ballerina reader ✮

You and Hobie started going out about 6 months ago. You met at a black-empowerment student group on your campus years before you had started seeing each other, and you remembered him starkly because he was the only person in the room who had brought up any kind of black queer issue, to which he was quickly shut down. He never returned to the group, and you always thought he was so much cooler than you for that. Being the only dark face in a line of pinky white dancers every day meant that you couldn't give up the small community of black people you had amongst the students. Even if it meant nodding along with arguments like 'gay black folks give us a bad name.' Hobie would never do that. Hobie would have said something. Its part of the reason he swore to never return to organized liberation movements. "If the movement cant be translated to a mentality, its not worth your time my love," he had told you, and you had just smiled, because you knew you would never be as brave and he was. It was one of the reasons you fell in love with him.

He brought you flowers on your first date. They were haphazardly picked and thrown about, clearly hand picked from someones garden he had pilchered, wrapped in an old newspaper. You loved them more than anything anyone had ever given you. You still kept them pressed in between a stack of books you kept at your hostel.

He came to every single one of your shows. Even the ones he couldn't afford, at fancy recital halls that made you feel out of place, he would find a way to sneak into the audience. One time, he even managed to get a job as a lighting guy a month before your biggest performance of the year so that he would be there. You still tease him about it.

The first time you went to one of his shows, you stuck out like a sore thumb. It was right after rehearsals, so you were still in your pink leotard and sheer brown leggings. Angry boys with spiked clothing kept on bumping up around you as the crowd bobbed up and down with the loud music. You couldn't find Hobie anywhere, and you didn't know why you did what you did, but when a particularly hard shove landed you on your hands and knees, scraped up from the grain of the cement floor, you called out for your boyfriend. "Hobie!" You shouted, almost certain he wouldn't hear as the crowd around you swallowed up the noise. Only he did hear, and not a moment later he was behind you, wrapping his long lanky arms around your waist as he pulled you back onto your feet. "You alright sweetheart?" He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. "Just got a bit overwhelmed. Sorry Hobes." You replied. He shook his head fondly at you, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "Come with me?"

You spent the rest of the concert in the sound box above the stage, wrapped up in Hobie's big flannel jacket as you cheered on the lovely man you were beginning to fall in love with.

When he told you about the mask, about his other life as a webslining vigilante, you found that you weren't even surprised. Of course, your anti-cop, pro-punk politics boyfriend was Spiderman. It was the first time you had seen him look nervous, so you took his face in your hands and pressed his forehead agaisnt your own. "You're the bravest person I know. I am so proud of you," you whisper against his lips. And then, because it had to be said "don't you ever let yourself get hurt." He kissed you gently and promised.

He broke that promise less than a week later. You were warming up in your room before your first class, far earlier than anyone else was awake, which was why the loud banging on your door startled you so much. Never in a million years did you expect a bloody and battered Hobie Brown to fall into your room. He wouldn't let you call the police. Wouldn't even let you call an ambulance. You would never forget the rasping noise he made as he lay on your floor, blood soaking through your carpet.

You didn't speak to him for weeks after it happened. You were able to bribe some of the medical students from the STEM section of the campus to stitch up your clumsy boyfriend who had fell down the stairs. Apparently, it wasn't even that deep of a wound, just happened to nick a part of the body that blead a lot or something like that. You still woke up shaking when you thought about it.

Hobie does everything to get you to forgive him. He leaves flowers inside your ballet locker everyday, steals new lace for your shoes from the silk shop he knows you lone but can never afford. He apologizes again and again, but you can't look at him without seeing the gasping expression on his face as you thought you were watching him die. It's not until he does the one thing you thought he would never do, the one place where Hobie Brown swore he would never show his face again.

He was at the next black empowerment meeting you attended. You couldn't help the visible shock fall onto your face. "Just for the record, I don't like it here." He stated plain and clear before the meeting had even started. "I think you lot are a bunch of bootlicking, regressive posers who wouldn't know what respectability politics looked if they smacked you in the face." Hobie brought his gaze to his shoes, black locs falling over his eyes. "But I fucked up. I really scared someone I care about, and I dont know how to make it right. He's one of the bravest people I know, and I am so lucky that in some capacity, he chose me." Hobie looked up, directly at you now, "I love you sweetheart. I'm sorry, I should have never put you in that position. Let me make it up to you. However I can baby, let me make it up to you."

You stopped going to meetings. Hobie introduced you to a group of black ballet dancers who he had met when a theater had accidentally double booked his band, and suddenly your community was started to look a lot bigger than the arts campus. He promised you that he would always go to the hospital when he was hurt like that, even if it meant supporting a system of bourgeois control over public health that contributed to the futile distribution of wealth under capitalism. You didn't quite catch that last part. He kept his promise. He made it up to you.

END

[rosslynchsslut]

Heaven, Angel

Just the reader missing her man while he's been performing for a couple hours<3

✨Suggestive content✨, fluff, heavy makeout sesh

(He looks so good in this picture😩)

Watching Ross on stage was absolutely amazing. The way his hips moved, sensually and fluidly. The way his dark pretty eyes scanned over the crowd to find a soul to connect with. The sheen of his body from the sweat he's built up from running back and forth on the stage, and how it made his perfect blonde hair stick to his face. How his muscles flexed, and the veins in his forearms stood out as he plucked the strings on his guitar. The smiles he flashed the lucky girls in the crowd, his perfect teeth on an amazing display. How could I miss him so much while only being apart for a couple hours?

I was currently sitting on his dressing room floor. Watching him perform from a small TV in the top left corner of the room. Sweaty and tired and flushed, he still looked so flawless. An angel straight out of heaven. The funny thing about him being on stage, he looked so similar in bed. Holding himself above me, with his amazing smile, sweat practically dripping from him and his hips moving in an inhuman, rhythmic pace of sensuality. Ross was everything straight from a beautiful, lucid, wet dream, and I couldn't help but feel jealously as he made continuous eye contact with someone in the crowd. It was extremely selfish, I know. By that single glance, he had made a dream come true for a woman who'll never forget that gaze. And I had him as a boyfriend, I see him everyday in person. I can touch him, pleasure him, pull euphoric sounds from his lips that no one in the crowd could. He would hold me in his arms, dance with me, kiss me, love me. I was invited to every family gathering, and I had been at every baby shower that Rydel had. Leave marks on his neck, and sleep in his bed. Have him between my things, my fingers tangled in that beautiful hair. I was practically a Lynch, and to be jealous of a half-hearted glance was ridiculous. But, I still was.

I felt my heart leap as he and Rocky began to say goodbye to his lovely, supportive crowd. He blew kisses, thanked them, threw guitar picks and picked up another cowboy hat that was thrown at him. He ran off the stage and was swallowed by the darkness of backstage. I immediately lept up and fled from the dressing room to go and see him.

There was my angel, wiping the sweat from his brow with the heel of his hand, a wide smile of pride on his face. His brother Rocky met my gaze and smiled, gave him a clap on his back and left the room. Ross, now meeting my eyes, grew a larger smile on his beautiful face. "Oh my god, it was great out there!" He said breathlessly, peeling off his sweaty wife-beater. His muscles were so chiseled, as if he was sculpted by Michelangelo. "You were great, baby." I smiled. I opened my arms for him, and he complied. Encasing me in his arms, I inhaled his scent. I didn't care if he was sweaty or if he stunk, I was used to this. To him. I loved him more than anything and to expect me to be offended by a little sweat, you thought wrong. "Thanks, babe. Y'know, I try for you." He sighed into my hair, arms squeezing me tighter. I could stay here forever, in his embrace that kept me safe and warm. "Everything I do is for you." His voice was a quiet rumble against me, lulling me into a sense of beautiful security. "Me too, Ross." I replied, because it was the truth.

Most of the time, he was the only reason I got out of bed. Did my hair, stepped outside. He was my will power but would he ever know? I looked up at him, into his deep dark eyes. He stared back into mine for what seemed an eternity. "Kiss me." I whispered, suddenly craving him. His lips pecked mine, once then twice. He was messing with me, so my hand went into his sweat-damp hair and pull his lips to mine. A small noise left his throat, and I couldn't help but smile into our already passionate kiss.

Quickly, tongue and teeth were involved. Our chests were heaving in sync, our bodies slowly rocking against each other. We were kissing as if we'd never see each other again, I loved it. Ross was intoxicating and I could never get enough of him. His voice, his scent, his very presence. His mouth was fluid and hot against mine, his hands heavy resting on my waist and neck. His midsection pressing against mine, seeking friction for relief. The noises he released into my mouth, boarding porn-star. Everything about him, perfect. Flawless.

His mouth began to kiss down my neck. Nipping, licking at my jaw and my pulse point, coaxing whispering moans from me. "Baby, I love you." I gasped out, as his teeth scraped against my clavicle. "I love you, Y/N." His mumbled against my skin, breath fanning over me.

"Can we grab something to eat?" Rocky asked nonchalantly, his voice bringing a strong color to each of our cheeks as we 'quickly' pulled away from one another's body. "Uhh, yeah." Ross said, clearing his throat while searching for a shirt. I laughed, fixing my shirt that was riding up. His was so embarrassed to be caught all over me, it was cute. Just another thing I loved about Ross.

[luellasplanet]

question..? (lena oberdorf)

word count: 829

i must say this is rather rushed and I will redeem myself with another lena fic soon

based on taylor swift’s song ‘question..?’

in which you make out with a random girl in a club, who happens to be named lena oberdorf

Sitting alone at a crowded bar in a foreign country was definitely a recipe for disaster. But you weren’t technically alone, your friends were on the other side of the room flirting with some random older men, but you really couldn’t be bothered to join in.

The city of Wolfsburg was breathtaking, you had never really left your small home town in Portugal that often. But given the opportunity to go to university in Wolfsburg was simply an offer one could not turn down.

big city, wrong choices

You had just ordered another drink, one that was not needed, when a large group of girls walked through the door, one instantly catching your attention. The friendly smile she sent you instantly created butterflies in your stomach as you turned away quickly while focusing on the barman handing you your drink.

“Y/n/n! Come dance!” The voice of one of your best friends, Cate, interrupts your train of thought as she grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor. Your half full drink long forgotten as you danced along to the music.

Lena, who was standing in the corner of the bar with Lynn, was watching you intently. “Go talk to her.” She tells Lena pushing her shoulder urging her to go onto the dance floor.

Cate and your other friend, Ana, had walked off the dance floor trying to locate you, they looked around until Ana saw two figures in one of the darker corners of the bar. One that looked awfully familiar. “Shut up, don’t fucking tell me that’s y/n” she says pointing towards the corner. Cate turns her vision to where Ana was looking to see you and a mystery girl passionately locking lips. “No fucking way.”

can i ask you a question? did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room?

How did you end up in that position? You pressed up against the wall while mystery girl placed kisses all along your neck while your hands were entangled in her hair as you lightly tugged on it when she kissed certain spots.

You don’t know, and you most certainly wouldn’t remember tomorrow morning.

But a new fact you learnt that night, is that Germans are bloody good at flirting, and they’re even better when they are slightly intoxicated.

You walked back towards your friends after one of the German girl's friends dragged her away,

and every single one of your friends was making fun of you

“Since when did you start kissing random people in bars?” Ana asks extremely loudly, causing most people in earshot to turn to the three of you. “Oh my god! That’s why you didn’t want to speak to those guys with us! You wanted to speak to her. Oh my god, y/n/n has a crush!”

You pulled both Ana and Cate towards the balcony where the three of you could talk at normal levels without having to shout.

Your glare was almost as sharp as a dagger as Cate’s eyes instantly travelled to your neck which had already started to develop little purple bruises on it. The lighting of the balcony made it easier for them to see your dishevelled makeup and hair.

“My god could you focus on my face and not my neck,” you mutter as you take a deep breath trying to calm you racing heart. “I need a shot,” you tell practically no one as you turn back around and into the bar yet again.

The music blasted through the speakers as you ordered a shot you definitely didn’t need. As you reach into your pocket to find your card you feel a hand on your back as you look up to see mystery girl yet again, paying for your drink.

“Oh you didn’t have to do that,” you tell her as she hands you your shot. “It’s not a problem,” she answers.

God that accent could literally make you melt in seconds.

You hadn’t taken the shot yet so the confidence the alcohol had given you a mere hour ago was long gone, leaving you a stuttering mess as you spoke to the taller German in front of you. “Um… I was wondering if I could get your number by any chance? If not, don't worry but um yeah…” you looked up at her after speaking, but were met with nothing but a small smile as she gestured for your phone.

She quickly typed her number and name into the phone before handing it back to you, “I’m Lena by the way, maybe we can do this again sometime?” She asked while rubbing the back of her neck.

“I’d love that!”

[mangosrar]

never say never.

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

warnings: smut. angst idk????

an: not proof read. more parts coming soon 😛😛😛

"matt have you seen my car keys" she hollered at him as she scurried around the kitchen.

"where are you going?" he asked as he peaked his head aoundd the door.

"i have to go home" she tilted her head and watched as he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his hands on the small of her back, pulling her close.

"you dont have to go home, just move in with me" he brought his face closer to hers as her hands fiddled with the buttons on his dress shirt that was now creased and exposing his chest.

"i cant matt you know this, i need my studio" she told him.

"ill build you a studio here, hell id build you a whole art gallery if it meant i got to live with you doll" he moved his face to her cheek and planted a soft kiss there.

7 months ago.

just as she was bending down to press a display sticker to one of the signs, she felt a hard slap to her ass, spinning around she was met with violet smirking, leaned back against nathan. the two of them looked picturesque together. she wore a shimmery champagne dress while he wore a black suit.

"you look great rue" violet gushed.

"thanks vee" she wore a white dress tonight. it was a little more showy than she wouldve liked, low cut and short, but she had bought it last minute and didnt have time to change her mind. violet loved it, of course, she lived for dressing sexy.

"you did all this rory?" nate asked. gesturing to the room around them as he spoke. the place was heaving, every single piece of art in there was either already sold, or bring inquired for, thr room was decorated 'diligently' as her boss byron described. never once had that man complimented her so she was taking whatever she could get.

"yeah, worked my little ass of and byron wont let me display one piece of my art in here" she huffed out a breath rolling her eyes.

"Douch bag knows yours would sell for more than hes ever made" violet uttered.

she didnt even get the chance to reply before one of the artists was tapping on her shoulder making her spin around. "someone would like to make an offer on one of my pieces downstairs."

"oh yes of course" she turned back around. "drink, mingle, have fun. ill find you guys in a bit"

after an hour of running up and down the stairs, about half the pieces were sold and the place was completely packed. the smell of liquor wafted through the air, mixing with the loud conversations.

"hey rory" voilet called from across the crowd. she gently made her way through the sea of people muttering soft 'excuse me's to everyone. when she finally made it to violet she had a wicked smile on her face that made her suspiciously squint her eyes.

"what?" she asked apprehensively.

"nate has a friend here that he wants you to meet. voilets words were saturated with intent, but rory couldnt place it. she tugged on her arm, walking them across the room.

she could see the back of nate, standing and talking to someone. as he turned to face them she saw who she was talking to.

the man was taller than nathan, and more built. his stare was intense. shockingly blue eyes and a strong stubbled jaw. he had dark hair that fanned out around his head perfectly. he wore a flawlessly tailored suit, designer by the looks of it. she could see tattoos peaking out from under his sleeves onto his hands, gripping a hilariously small looking glass.

"sorry to pull you away from your fun, but this is my childhood best friend, matthew sturniolo" nate reached over, patting his friend on the back. "matt this is aroura jovans" he introduced her by her full name, keeping it formal for the time being.

matt stared cooly down at her, extending his hand. "nice to meet you aroura"

despite hating the sound of her full name, hearing it on matts tongue made her swoon. she had never seen a man so handsome in her entire life.

finding her head, rory reached out, placing her hand over his, the size difference was stark and it made his cock jump. "nice to meet you too Matthew" she replied looking up at him. "you can call me rory"

he had picked up on the colour of her cheeks when they touched. this bookish little sweetheart was the last thing he expected to find when nate invited him here. to say he was intrigued was an understatement.

now.

he continued his trail of kissed down her neck. her hands came up to tug on his hair, earning a hum from matt.

"stay here with me" he muttered as he sucked dark circles into her skin. she sighed and leaned her head back, giving him better access. she wanted to give in so bad, she wanted to let him have his way with her right now.

"i cant matt, i have things to do" her chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as she desperately tried to keep it together, but matts groping hands and his mouth were proving to be a real challenge.

"let me take care of you baby" and before she could even protest. he had hiked her up onto the kitchen counter and shoved his hand into her panties, his lip between his teeth, eyes watching her face intensely. his fingers traced up her folds making him let out a low groan as he left light circles on her clit, pulling a shaky whine from rorys mouth.

"look at that honey, youre soaked" she couldnt help but whine at his words. his fingers quickened and his touch became firmer, prompting her head to lull back as she gripped one hand on his shoulder and the other smacked down onto the counter behind her. her hips started rocking in rhythm with his hand. he knew just how to work her.

"it would be so mean of me to leave you like this doll" his voice was patronizing and cocky. matt once again brought his mouth to her neck and licked a stripe up her throat, pulling a lewd moan from her.

"dont stop matt ngh- pl-" and before she could even finish her sentence, he cut her off by yanking his hand away from her and plopping his fingers into his mouth.

she stared at him wide eyed, mouth hanging open and the feeling of her approaching high fizzling out.

matt gripped her hips and pulled her off the counter, standing her back on her own, now shaky legs before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out her keys. he placed them in her hand before pressing a firm kiss to her lips.

"have a great day baby ill see you for dinner" and with that he was off, sauntering back off into his office.

matt returning to a normal life once he met aroura never seemed like anything out of the ordinary, business was well, he was going to dinner parties, he had fake manners, all prepared for a complete disregard for his past life. he wondered if the straw would ever come and he would return to his late affairs, then again he wondered if that straw had already been pulled. he knew he couldnt hide from himself much longer. his biggest enemy was the man he saw in the mirror. he was filtered with anger and disgust for himself. each day, in and out, he knew what rory didnt. surely the truth would come out, it was just a matter of when. every time his phone rang and her face came up he was sure this was it, thinking of some excuse or lie he could tell before answering and of course each time he was wrong, after a few months of him fighting with himself he gave up. realising there was no way she would ever find out. but never say never.

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @freshlovehacker @urmyslxt @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattsd0ll @flowerxbunnie @itsjennarose @lovingsturniolo @mattslolita @chrisenthusiast

also if i forgot u from my taglist or u wanna be added lmk!!!!

[filmandtvgeek]

‘Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was makin' fun of you

But fifteen seconds later, they were clappin' too?

Then what did you do?

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Oh

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch her?

It's just a question’

I AM STILL IN THIS MOMENT & I AM NEVER LEAVING

[bluehoodiewoozi]

DRABBLE MARATHON #15:

WEN JUNHUI + first love

1.5k words // warnings: alcohol consumption.

This party would be fun – at least so you had been told. It would just be a cute little celebration of a year well-spent, complete with only the best drinks and culinary goods. Dress code: ugly Christmas sweaters recommended but not mandatory.

And yet, you felt like you were trapped, stuck in a vast ocean of Christmas decorations, gingerbread cookies and Vernon’s holiday remixes of all the best songs. 

It’s not that you didn’t like socialising or meeting people. Minghao’s house was full of your friends and acquaintances and you were having the time of your life until he drunkenly told you a secret: Junhui would be coming to the party too, right as soon as his plane landed.

Junhui – the first man to ever make your heart pound, the first man to kiss your lips,  the first boyfriend you had had in college, the first everything. And while he wasn’t the last, no one else compared. 

You hadn’t seen him in two years. Your last memory of him was the day he left for his hometown a week after graduation. 

“I’ll come and find you again one day,” he had sworn that day as the two of you shared tearful goodbyes, giving the other a piece of your shattered hearts to keep. 

For reasons unknown to the both of you, you had decided to not continue your relationship at a distance. Long distance being painful was the excuse you gave when someone asked. 

But now, after two years, the distance would be no more. No more excuses, no more longing – in just a short time, he would be in the same room as you again. 

“How much have you had to drink?” Mingyu wondered and plucked the glass from your hands. “You’re all pale.”

“Jun’s coming,” you whispered, panic restricting your chest while butterflies fluttered their wings in excitement just the same. “He’s coming to the party.”

Mingyu hummed in thought. “Yeah, I think Hao mentioned something about that.”

“Do you think he remembers me?” 

“He promised he would, didn’t he?`” He nudged your side gently before offering a reassuring smile. “Junhui doesn't break his promises. Besides,” he sighed, “he always asked about you when we called.”

The butterflies won, for now. “He did?”

“Every single time. You’ll be fine.”

Just as you were about to come to terms with the words — or fight them, perhaps –, Soonyoung’s voice broke your little illusion of there being more time. “JUN! OH MY GOD, YOU ACTUALLY CAME?!”

He squealed and and jumped around and screamed like a little kid receiving his favourite toy for Christmas before dashing through the lines of guests and tackling a tall figure in a hug. 

“I missed you, man!” he cried, now sobbing into the man’s shoulder – no doubt drunk out of his mind. “Don’t ever leave again, Junhui!”

Junhui laughed – god, had you missed his laugh. “I missed you too, Soonyoung.”

“It’s Tiger,” he was promptly corrected by the crying  man. 

Junhui blinked and patted his back. “I– Sure. I missed you, Tiger.”

‘Tiger’ sobbed louder at that and hugged him even tighter, causing his poor victim to groan under the pressure. “I missed you and so did Hao and Mingyu and Jihoon and– Oh! And (Y/n) missed you the moist–” he hiccuped while you tried your hardest to hide behind Mingyu, “most!”

You were going to be sick from nervousness and it only got worse when Junhui’s eyes immediately began searching for something – someone – in the crowds upon hearing your name.

His gaze caught yours before you could hide away properly. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart stopped for a moment before fluttering at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. He offered you a smile.

Before you could find the strength to return the gesture, he was pulled away by Seungkwan. As they disappeared into the kitchen, you finally found your breath again.

“You should talk to him,” Mingyu told you but he didn’t sound as playful as he usually did when he told you things like this. He sounded almost… Sad? Disappointed? Mournful, perhaps? The smile he put on hardly looked genuine. “I bet he’s missed you as much as you missed him, you know?”

“I–” you gasped and the room seemed to be spinning as reality slowly set in, “I’m going to go get some fresh air.”

“Here,” he sighed and shrugged off his blazer, “at least put this on. I don’t want you catching a cold before New Year’s.”

You thanked him, shrugged on the blazer and headed out to the balcony. The chill of the air was a welcoming change – it lulled the butterflies back to sleep, just like you preferred them. 

He was really here, in the same building, breathing the same air, and he was as handsome as always – if not even more. The years had been kind to him and you didn’t doubt he must have a wife by now.  She was probably pretty and kind and a little aloof like he was – the perfect pair, his ideal other half like you never could be.

And you? You were alone still, holding onto a silly little hope that he’d still love you as much as he told you he did when you had a breakdown in the middle of your last finals’ season. To the moon and back and all around the world, as bright as the stars in the sky – that’s how he had described his feelings for you and you doubt he even remembered. 

The door creaked open and you tense up in anticipation of what was about to come. You didn’t dare turn to see who it was – perhaps it was Mingyu urging you to come back inside, or maybe Soonyoung coming to beg you to join him in karaoke, or maybe–

“I figured I’d find you here,” you heard him speak and your whole world shook. Junhui shuffled to stand next to you, leaning against the railing to look out at the city. “It was a little loud inside, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly but really it had been your own heart that had been so loud.

He chuckled. “I had forgotten how loud the guys were. I missed them though.” 

You nodded, unable to form sentences now that he was so close. You were staring at your hands – just a few centimetres and you could hold hands with him again. 

“I missed you,” you then heard him breathe out and the butterflies came to life again. “I missed you so much, every day. I guess it’s true what they say: you never forget your first.”

“But you can always move on,” you replied solemnly.

He hummed. “Have you? Moved on?” He seemed to regret the question as soon as he said it.  He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m sure you did. Mingyu seems nice. He always did like you.”

Your heart dropped in shock. “Mingyu?”

“You’re wearing his jacket right now,” he laughed wistfully. “I always figured if it wouldn’t be me, it would be Gyu.”

“Oh!” You rushed to correct him now that you knew what he meant. “No, no, Mingyu and I– We aren’t– We never– I never. I haven’t moved on.”

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “You haven’t?”

“Well,” you started with a gulp of air, “I tried, but… no one compared.”

“Me too,” he breathed out and you saw that sparkle in his eyes you had missed so much. “There was no one like you, so I just waited… and waited…”

“Waited for what?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered and he seemed to be closer to you all of a sudden, your noses brushing together, “but I’m done waiting.”

You didn’t need to ask him what he meant by that, nor did you have the time to. He leaned closer and closer until you felt his lips against yours. Your fingers rose to play with the hair at the nape of his neck as his arms lowered to pull you closer to his chest. You faintly noticed your – Mingyu’s – blazer falling off your shoulders as Junhui embraced you closer, and closer, and closer, until you could feel the familiar fluttering of his heart against yours.

You expected it to feel foreign – years had passed, after all – but instead, it was as if he never even left. As if he had been here with you all those years, holding your hand and laughing at your dumb jokes while fighting off Soonyoung’s attempts at playful flirtation. 

As if there was only him and you in the world and that was all you would ever need.

“I missed this,” he all but gasped out once you pulled apart again. “I missed you.”

“I can’t believe you left me here to suffer alone for all those years,” you told him with a disbelieving laugh, “and then you come back and kiss me dumb?`”

A smirk on his lips, he shrugged. “But you’re not complaining, are you?”

“Only on one condition.”

“Anything,” he whispered and pecked your lips once more as if to seal his promise.

You believed him. “Stay. Here. With me.”

“With you? Forever.”

You had spoken in a daze of hopeful delusion but here he was, replying as if it was the only truth he knew. Your eyes widened. “What about your life back home?”

“My home is where you are,” he confessed with a small smile. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realise.”

[poughkeepsies]

desperately need a bucktommy "did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was making fun of you but 15 seconds later they were clapping too" moment at the wedding

[babydollmarauders]

QUESTION…? — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which Quinn and sunshiny good girl, y/n, have harbored feelings for each other for a while. but when they finally hookup, Quinn leaves in the middle of the night and let’s y/n believe maybe it was just a one night fling.

specific lyrics: “good girl, sad boy.” and “did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was making fun of you but fifteen seconds later they were clapping too? then what did you do? did you leave her house in the middle of the night?”

warnings: kinda steamy but no NSFW. profanity.

notes: it does get a little steamy but there is no actual smut in this, i apologize if you were expecting some! i wrote this while watching the UMich game and i have the worst migraine, so i’m sorry if this sucks.

not my gif

contrary to popular belief, i’m not oblivious to the irony of Quinn Hughes and i being best friends. the optimistic, always happy, constantly smiling hopeless romantic being best friends with the pessimistic, always looks miserable, rarely smiling hockey player? yeah, it’s baffled our other friends for years.

but when asked, i can’t really explain it. Quinn and i just click. we know what makes the other happy, or sad, or angry. it’s easy for us to be around each other. and we’re understanding of each other. i don’t push him to talk, and he’s one of the rare few who will just sit and listen to me ramble without asking me to shut up. as like all best friends we’re really close. we like to think we have no secrets. that we tell each other everything.

but, i have one.

i’m in love with my best friend.

i never meant for it to happen. when we became friends, i was actually glad to finally meet a guy that just wanted to be friends. no underlying motives, no moves being pulled. just friends. but eventually my feelings changed. it wasn’t all at once, like i read about in my romance novels. no. the changes were gradual. it started slowly, with me seeking him out more than my other friends. then it turned into getting butterflies in my stomach when we touched, no matter if we were holding hands, linked arms, or if i was just sitting close enough to him on the couch that our thighs touched. at first i chalked it up to him just being my best friend, but then the dreams started happening. dreams where he and i were dating. and eventually sleeping dreams turned into daydreams. and then i finally realized my true feelings. i’m in love with my best friend.

i’ve spent the better half of our four year friendship hiding my feelings from him, too scared that confessing might ruin our friendship. he’s never given me any reason to assume that he feels the same way, so i keep my feelings locked in a box in the back of my mind, only let free when i’m alone and daydreaming about what life would be like if we were more than friends.

i’ve since then gone on several dates with numerous guys, trying to find someone who makes me feel the way Quinn does, but it’s been a moot effort. every guy has been missing the spark that i feel between Quinn and i. and i always end up back to the beginning, spending my nights hanging out with my best friend and just hoping i’m strong enough not to spill my secret.

which brings us to now, where i’m mentally screaming over how good Quinn looks in his white button down shirt and black dress pants. it’s new year’s eve, and most of the Canucks team, their partners, and a few friends are lounged around Elias’s house. with five minutes until the new year, i’m sat on the couch clutching a glass of champagne, my sixth of the night, and animatedly chatting with Quinn, who looks like he would rather be anywhere else. but i’ve learned by now that that’s just his resting facial expression.

“alcohol makes you chatty, doesn’t it y/n?” Elias laughs from his spot in the chair a few feet away from us. i stop talking, letting out a weak chuckle. it’s not like i’m unused to comments like that, i’m often told that i talk a lot, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little.

“it does. but i like it. i like listening to her talk.” Quinn defends. my heart flutters in my chest at his words. a blush coating my cheeks. “now back to what you were saying, y/n.”

i blink a few times, just staring at my best friend in front of me before i begin to speak.

“oh. i was just saying that i think my parents want me to visit soon. but i was done speaking.” i shrug.

“no, you weren’t.” Quinn’s brows furrow and he wears a scowl. “you were still talking.”

“well, i was about done anyways. but i can keep talking.” Quinn’s lips quirk in a half smile and he nods for me to continue. “well, i do think the concept of new years is pretty weird. and some of the traditions that people have are weird as well. like-”

i’m cut off by the simultaneous chants of the people surrounding us. counting down from ten. i smile and my face lights up. i love this part of the holiday.

“SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!” i sigh as i watch couples pair off, ready to kiss their other half a happy new year, a longing look in my eye. i feel Quinn shift beside me, his thigh pressing closer into mine. but my eyes are locked on my friends all smiling at their significant others, so happy and in love. i want that.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” i’m snapped out of my thoughts by a hand grasping my chin. my face is turned and i’m able to catch a quick glimpse of Quinn’s eyes before my lips are covered by his. his hands move to cup my face, his lips moving over mine. it takes me a second of hesitation to realize what’s happening and my heart speeds up. i snap out of my trance in time to move my lips, locking us into a slow and passionate kiss.

“GO HUGGY! FINALLY!” i hear someone yell and everyone laughs, cracking jokes about how long it took for us to kiss. Quinn pulls back to lock eyes with me, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. he gives me a small smile before leaning in and capturing my lips with his once more. our friends start clapping and i smile into the kiss, making him pull away once again. this time he pulls away completely, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to him.

what did that mean? does he like me the way that i like him? or was it just a midnight kiss between friends? is this gonna change anything, or are we just going to move past this like it didn’t happen? does he realize how much this means to me? my head is swarmed with questions that i may never know the answers to.

i stay glued to his hip for the rest of the night, my head still reeling from the kiss. not long after midnight, everyone starts to head home, and i follow Quinn out to his car so he can give me a ride. he opens the passenger seat for me, helping me in before shutting it and jogging around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers seat. the drive is unusually quiet, my usual chattiness drifted away after our kiss. instead i’m stuck inside my own mind, still wondering what it meant. when he pulls up and parks in a spot outside my apartment complex, he turns to look at me, and i manage a smile.

“you okay?” he asks. “you’ve been quiet.”

“yeah, i’m fine. just figured i’d give you a reprieve.” i joke. his expression tells me he didn’t appreciate my attempt.

“don’t do that.” he says.

“do what?”

“don’t let what Elias said get into your head. i love that you never stop talking. i like seeing you happy.”

okay he needs to stop talking before i do something monumentally stupid. like kiss him again.

“don’t worry, Quinny. i’m not gonna go silent on you. i was just joking.” i smile. “who else can i talk about all my star wars theories with, without them calling me a nerd?”

he laughs and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“you wanna come in and drink some wine while i tell you about how i think Palpatine is actually Anakin’s father?” i ask, and he nods.

“what else would i do?” he jokes sarcastically.

we get out of the car and Quinn leads the way up to my apartment, having been here hundreds of times in the past four years. i unlock my door and call out to my cat that i’m home. within seconds she comes around the corner, and Quinn scoops her up in his arms, cradling her like a baby. i listen to him coo at her as i grab a bottle of wine off my kitchen counter and pour two glasses.

within a few minutes, Quinn and i are sat on my bed, drinking our wine as i lay my feet in his lap and talk to him about my theory. Quinn listens intently, as if he hasn’t already heard it a million times, and absentmindedly lays his hand on my ankle, sending a spark up my leg.

“anyways, enough about that.” i finish. “how’s your mom? i heard you on the phone with her earlier. I miss Ellen.”

he smiles, a rare genuine grin at the mention of his family.

“she’s good.” he nods. “she misses you too. keeps telling me to bring you to the lake house this summer.”

“we’ll if that’s your way of offering, then i accept.” i tell him before joking- “i miss my favorite Hughes brother.”

“there’s no way that Luke is your favorite. i call bullshit.”

“you call bullshit every time i say it, but i still remain adamant. he’s the sweetest.” i tease. “he told me last summer that if i ever decide that i like younger guys, he’ll take me out. maybe i’ll finally take him up on that offer.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow, tickling the inside of my ankles as he speaks.

“oh please. he wouldn’t know how to handle you.”

i bark out a laugh and nudge his thigh with my foot.

“and just what is that supposed to mean?” i ask.

“it means that whatever man you finally decide is good enough for you, needs to appreciate you. he needs to love how much you like to speak, and your hopeless romantic side. he needs to appreciate that you always look on the bright side of things, and find a silver lining in everything. he needs to remember that you’re a sunrise person, preferring the beginning of a new day rather than the end, so you prefer your dates as brunch or picnics or going to a museum rather than dinner or a movie. and Luke is not that guy.”

my heart melts at his words. the fact that he knows these things about me and believes that i deserve to find someone who won’t make me compromise those parts of myself.

and there i go, doing something monumentally stupid, because before i can take a second to think before i react, i lean over and press my mouth to his. his lips lock with mine, moving slowly. i open my mouth, letting his tongue roam freely over mine. Quinn grasps my hips, pulling me in closer so that i’m straddled over his lap, and i roll my hips, lightly grinding down onto him, making him let out a groan.

he tastes like red wine and mint, an odd combination, but not a bad one. his hands slip under my top, skimming my bare skin as he settles them at my waist and pulls me closer. my chest is flush against his now, every breath i take making my nipples brush against his chest, sending pleasure driven shivers down my body, straight to my core.

“please.” i whisper against his lips.

“please what, y/n?” his voice is raspy, laced with lust and seduction.

“please Quinn. please fuck me.” i whimper as he pulls me down to roll over his quickly hardening length.

“whatever you want, baby.”

**

my eyes squint against the light coming in from my bedroom windows as i finally come to. it takes me a couple seconds to remember why i’m naked. and when the memories of the night before flash in my mind, i smile, rolling over in my bed to face Quinn. but his spot is empty. i reach over to feel cold sheets. he’s been gone awhile.

when did he leave? why did he leave?

tears prick at the back of my eyes, but i blink them away. he could just be in the kitchen. rising from my bed, i throw on an oversized t-shirt and some underwear as i glance around my room. his clothes are gone, the only ones left scattered on my floor being my own, sending another sinking feeling in my gut.

i leave my room, walking to my kitchen only for it to be empty. i check my bathroom, my living room, and my guest room, only for all of them to come up empty as well.

he left.

i finally let my tears fall, collapsing on my couch. i thought maybe he liked me, but was last night just an easy fuck for him? did he not want me in the way that i want him? in a relationship sense?

**

it’s been four days since Quinn and i slept together, and we haven’t spoken or seen each other in those days. it’s not unusual for us to not talk or see each other for a few days, but after our night together, i wasn’t expecting the complete silence. i told myself i would confront him the next time i see him, but the thought makes me anxious.

with the Canucks having two nights off in a row, a lot of them are going out to a bar, and as a close friend of the team, i was invited. Andrei didn’t tell me who all is coming though, so as i walk into the bar right now, i worry over the possibility of being confronted with Quinn.

my eyes roam the bar, searching for my friends, and when i finally spot them, i feel both relieved and anxious. i don’t see Quinn. i make my way over to them, giving hugs and fist bumps as i say my hello’s.

“i’m gonna go order a drink.” i let them know, but as i turn around, i see Quinn, who seems to be returning from the restroom. we lock eyes and he veers course, coming to a stop in front of me.

“hey.” he greets me, pulling me into a quick hug. my arms stay glued to my sides.

“hey.” i say weakly. before i can lose my confidence i speak again. “can we talk?”

Quinn nods and tips his head over towards an empty booth across the room. i lead the way over to it, taking a seat on one side while he takes the seat across from me.

“what’s up?” he asks, and i take a second to study his expressionless face. does he really not know what this is about?

“can i ask you a question?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies. he lifts the hat off his head and sweeps a hand through his hair before replacing the hat. i swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath.

“why did you leave?” i manage to get out.

“what?”

“that night. why did you leave? i woke up the next morning and you were gone.” i explain. he opens his mouth but i continue speaking. “i just need to know. did it mean nothing to you? because that night meant everything to me. and i was under the impression that it may have meant something to you, but then you left without even saying goodbye and it made me feel…cheap. so i just want you to be honest with me Quinn, did it? mean anything to you?”

Quinn’s nostrils flare and he winces, as if my words were hard for him to hear.

“of course. it meant so much to me, y/n. but it all happened so fast and right after i said those nice things. so, i laid awake overthinking. and i got it into my head that maybe you were just overwhelmed with what i had said and acted on impulse. that maybe it was just one night for you. and i could take that, so i left. i thought maybe that’s what you wanted me to do.” his voice is soft, barely audible over the commotion of the bar, and his words only make me more upset.

“so you didn’t think to talk to me? you just left?” my words are sharp, my tone incredulous. “if you would’ve talked to me then you would’ve known that i really like you, Quinn. i’ve been in love with you for two years. i wanted that night to happen. it wasn’t just a night for me. was the decision impulsive? maybe. but i thought about that happening between us for years. i wanted it. i want you. not just for one night, but forever.”

his hand snakes across the table, clasping my own.

“i want you too. forever. god, y/n, i’ve been in love with you since i met you. but i knew how much you’d been through with past relationships and i didn’t want to push you. and then when i thought enough time had passed, i didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so i took you in any way i could have you. if that was just as your best friend, then so be it. but i don’t want to be your best friend anymore, y/n/n.”

my head reels with his words, thinking back over them. wait what?

“what?” i whisper, my voice shaky.

“if you can forgive me for being an idiot and jumping to conclusions, i’d really like to be your boyfriend.”

my heart races, and i look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity.

“i’d really like that. but you can’t leave me like that again, Quinn.”

“i don’t think i ever want to leave you again.” he tells me. he stands, taking my hand in his and pulling me up so hard that i crash into his chest. he wraps his arms around my waist, leaning down and letting his lips graze mine, smiling. “my mom is gonna freak when i tell her we’re finally dating.”

my head drops back in a laugh before i tease-

“oh no, how am i gonna break this to Luke?”