#don't have a lot going on this week but I'll be more busy next week <3< /div>
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turnandface · 20 days ago
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Happy holidays, everyone! ☃️ I hope you're doing well today 💓
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dilf-docs · 14 days ago
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Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera
pedro pascal x younger!reader
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summary: vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (yum), pwp, p. in v., fingering, pussy spanking (ooc i'm sorry i just want a man to do this to me), creampie, virgin!reader (sorry if this is kinda unrealistic for a first as i two i'm a virgin; in the curb we all fam), aftercare, spanglish ofc!!!
word count: 2,865 words
side note: so, i modified the request a bit bc idk pedro's friends like that (i just know omar apollo can tower over me wait what). check the og request here. reqs still open as we enter 2025! happy new year, dilf town citizens: pushed this drabble last minute as a lil' gift for you before the year ends! :) thank u sm for being part of it, my journey on tumblr is just getting started!!!!!!!!!!
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Hace tiempo que quería yo sentir esto que siento.
They say dating a star and having to share him with everybody else is the hardest part, but to you, it's having both of your vacations occur simultaneously.
Finally, after months of shooting so many projects for the next year, your boyfriend is free.
Vacations are fun! They're supposed to be relaxing, especially after leading such a busy life as yours: juggling between work, studies and a relationship with world-renowned actor, Pedro Pascal. Yet, you can't help but feel nervous, fiddling with the loose strands of your skirt.
Pedro wants you to go alone, which means just the both of you: a little escape before Christmas Eve, as he and his friends have already planned their holiday together.
Doesn't matter how many times you tried to excuse yourself, he was determined to make you go with him. Besides, let's get real: it's not like you can say no to him. So now here he is, both of your passports in hand as you both are ready to board your plane to Mexico, where the rest of his friends will meet you a week later. Yes, more nerves to add on the schedule.
"If you don't quit that shaking of yours, I'll extend our vacation two more weeks" Pedro threatens once you're seated, but it's devoid of any malice. He's a bit far from you (he also insisted on the VIP flying part; you're just fine flying tourist, but can understand why he isn't), so you can't count on his touch to comfort you. "Didn't know you were afraid of planes"
You sigh, "I'm not"
"Ay, cariño. Are you afraid of me then?"
"No" you laugh nervously. You are, but not for the reasons he thinks.
It's the very first time the two of you will be fully alone. For obvious reasons, a whole week at the beach is much more intimate than just the dates you've been in. But here you are, already seeing the sand and water beneath you.
"Like what you see?" he jokes.
"Yeah" you look back at him, sincerity washing over the expression on your face. "I do"
If there is one thing you're sure of, is your love for Pedro. You'll just have to wait and see how this goes.
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As of now, everything has gone well: sun, water, diving and lots of new photos and videos on your camera roll. You've gone swimming and danced on the bar of the hotel you're staying, some extra drinks on your system. You've also sunbathed under the same sun you've watched go down, in the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen in your life.
But here comes the hardest part: the night. Sharing a bed isn't hard: it's something that's happened before, one time even staying in his house for two days, all because he insisted.
This time is different: the way his gaze lingers over your bare legs, the same way he's looked at them when the droplets of water slide down them. The way he licks his lips, like he's starving and the most deliciously tempting meal stands before him. Mantaining eye contact like it's some kind of dare, just as he's done since you've landed, using it to disarm you little by little.
You don't think you can't take it anymore.
You lay down on the bed, and he leaves the book he's reading on the night table next to him, all his attention directed towards you. Yeah, you're afraid, he can sense, but apparently not that afraid to wear a dainty nightwear that gives a delicious peek of your breasts.
"Something you want to say?" you ask, almost daringly so.
"Say no" voice low, barely a whisper that could come across a breeze of wind entering through the open window as it stirs the courtains. "Want, yes"
You gulp. "What do you want, then?"
Shouldn't taken the bait.
"You" comes quick, like it's the easiest answer there ever is.
The rest of his answer comes in the form of hungry lips capturing yours, devouring them in a clash of desire against your own, even struggling to breath due to the animalistic borderline savage way Pedro's eating you out, his tongue battling inside your mouth while trying to explore every corner just to taste all of you on his palate.
"Pedro" you moan his name out when he bites your lip with a bit too much force, metallic filling your taste buds. It's all so hot, and you're too turned on to think.
His roaming hands itch to touch every available spot of soft skin your body offers, tracing first through your collarbones, and then leaving the task for his lips to complete. There goes a trail of kisses that go down your neck, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin until it turns red. You whine against his hold, big hands keeping you under him, back pushed against the soft mattress and silk sheets.
You gasp for air, lost in the fire, when suddenly his forgotten hands touch you down there.
"Wait!" you shout, mentally slapping yourself.
"¿Qué pasó?" he exclaims, scared. "Did I hurt you?"
"N-no" you're quick to deny, voice wavering as you seat up on the bed. Your cheeks soon flush, as there's regret when you say. "I'm sorry"
"Sorry for what?" he tenderly cups your cheek. "Just tell me what happened"
"What happened is, I fucked up the vibe. I'm sorry, P. Didn't mean to stop you like that"
"¿No te estaba gustando, cariño?" he's questioning again.
"No" your answer is more firmly this time. His face morphs into a bit of hurt, and then you think your answer a bit more. "Ah, no. I mean, yes! I was liking it. I meant no as in no, it's not that why I stopped you"
"Then, why is it?" he grows a little impatient, but shows no such thing, rather focused on helping you out. "You know you can trust me, right?"
"I know" you smile sadly, insecurities washing over you like cold water.
"Then, tell me" he scoots closer, his perfume getting in your nostrils. Had he wore it again for this? God, what an evil little horny creature.
"I'm scared" you confess finally, the warmth of his receptiveness giving you a sense of security. His brown eyes soften, and you feel tears brim in the corner of your eyes.
"I know" he repeats your words, kissing you softheartedly, nothing compared to as before.
"No" you look directly at him, ready to take in every reaction his face will have. "I don't think you do"
"Amor, por favor-"
"I'm a virgin" you cut him off, panic rushing your answer.
"You are?" almost immediatly, giving no opportunity for silence to settle in.
You nod, slowly.
He sighs, sounding relieved. "And here I thought you didn't love me. Que te daba asco acostarte con un viejo como yo"
"No!" you deny hastily, then laugh. "Of course I love you, P. On the contrary, I was the one scared. Don't want to fuck it up on my first"
The energy changes again, as a flame sparks within your orbs. He looks surprised.
"Just because I said-" he cuts himself off. "Look, y/n, mi vida. I don't want to force you, yeah? I didn't know you hadn't- Listen, if you aren't ready, I'll understand"
"I am ready" clear and convinced, without a doubt.
His eyes circle between lust and love, "You want me to be your first, mmh baby?"
You nod, and he's back at the kissing and nibbling on your neck and collarbones.
"Please say it"
"I want you, Pedro. Quiero que seas mi primera vez"
Those sweet words of yours, an invitation not even the strongest man could deny.
"Let's start slow, yeah?" his fingers travel down to your panties under the nightwear, removing them and tossing them out of the bed, even with your pout. He kisses it off, wasting no time after to see your clit exposed. "Looking so sweet, angel. And needy" he gets closer, taking a better look at the wet mess that coats in between your thighs. He takes a whiff, intoxicated with the smell of your arousal dripping in waiting need. "Tell me if this is okay, yeah? I'll stop if it hurts"
Your breath hitches the moment his middle finger touches your puffy clit. Pedro runs his finger up and down, not adding much pressure to let you get used to it (kissing and eating each other out was all you had ever done). You whimper at the feeling as he repeats his action a few more times.
"Please, keep going" you plead, barely managing to not squirm at the overwhelming new sensations that shoot right through your cunt.
He begins to rub slow circles, making sure to add the right pressure onto your clit, then circling it, all while keeping eye contact, adoring the new expressions and sounds he's getting from you. You realize and shy away, embarrassed all of the sudden at the way he looks at you.
"Don't" he holds you by your chin with his free hand, "I want to know how you look when I please you"
You whimper, letting him do his own thing. He starts leaving sweet little kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your hole clenching at nothing.
"Think you can take more?" he asks, "want more?"
Two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices.
"Good girl" he praises when you only yelp, savouring the new feel of his digits inside of you. Then, he drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking them clean. "Taste so sweet too"
"N-need more" you whine, desperate beneath him.
"Yeah?" This your first and you're already this greedy? I think I can get used to it" he laughs in adoration. "Let's try something better, yeah?"
Your body suddenly jolts, his big palm flat against your pussy. Pedro circles his whole palm across your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto it. You moan, back arching at the overstimulation.
He feels a little pervy, enjoying the way your tiny young body squirms beneath his caging body for of him. Nonetheless, he continues to rub you while you release more dirty sounds cascading out fo your filthy greedy lips. Your arousal keeps dripping like a broken pipeline, now smeared all over Pedro's palm, filling the room with slippery sounds.
"Mhm" you can't even speak, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure reducing you to a moaning mess.
Pedro slaps your pussy twice, wet smacks bouncing off the walls.
"That's my girl" he then gently blows on your swollen bud, pressing a light kiss on it after. "Ready for it?"
It meaning his hard tent hidden under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, but you're quick to dissmiss it.
"Are you sure you are ready?"
"Just do it" you demand, without knowing the consequences of your words, or the effect you have on him. Overall.
With needy fingers, you're fast to strip him out of it, admiring the size as much as you admire his now sculpted body. Jesus, you could build a cult out of it.
"Now" he cups your cheeks, fingers digging onto the skin, "I want you to look at me when I fuck you, yes? Don't dare to look away"
Pedro positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. Then, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry, trying to adjust to his size while your nails dig on his broad back, as he claims you, makes you his. Only his. Pedro'hi's hips snap forward with precision: every thrust is deliberate, each movement calculated to make your first as pleasurable as he can, despite the pain that's shown in your tears or the little drops of blood that fall onto the sheets.
"Shit" he pants, "tendremos que pagar por eso"
He grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you.
"Fuck, you feel so good" he moans, your tight untouched walls now stretching to adapt to his girth, "like you were made for me"
You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he firmly holds you. Your vision goes foggy, mind numb at the burning and pleasing sensations. Despite that and lack of experience, you meet his every thrust, your bodies moving as one.
Your core contracts around him with every motion. "You fuck me so good" you mewl, music to his ears.
"I know, baby" he chuckles, "sólo lo mejor para mi princesa"
Fingers dig into your skin as he guides you with precision, right as he wants you to be. You feel the intensity of his deep inside of you with every movement, his hot laboured breath against your ear.
"Doing it so good" his voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine. "Just for me"
"Just for you" you mindlessly pant out, the sensation of having all of him inside you, nothing separating the skin from skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce with each motion, Pedro's eyes never leaving yours, dark orbs locked onto your gaze as you urge him to go faster, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusts to the new rhythm he's providing, rapidly obeying.
The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies clashing onto one another, flesh against flesh echoing softly.
"Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me" His words send a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan loudly, your head falling back, "me tienes loco"
Pedro's weight grounds you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.
"Tell me you want this, us" the words catch you off guard. "Will you take all of me?"
"Yes" without a thought or doubt, answering as you whine and clutch at his shoulders with his more urgent thrusts. "All of you, always"
You notice his hips snapping forward, more energy as he pounts into you. "Good girl" praising you again, voice thick in arousal and rough, "so good for me"
Despite being your first, you can feel what would be your orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.
"Pedro!" you scream his name, body collapsing around him as you come, stars reaching your closed eyelids.
His movements become more intense and sloppier, breathing ragged as he chases his own release.
"Espérame. Stay there for me"
You cling to him, legs wrapping tighter as he continues to pound into you. "Ya casi" his thrusts become erratic as he nears his climax, "almost there, baby"
You feel his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, seed spilling into you without wasting a drop.
"That's right" whispers against your sweet neck roughly, voice breaking as he collapses over you, trying to level his breathing. "Eres mía, only mine"
You're whimpering, body exhausted from the whole session you had.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just tired" you sigh, "but I don't think I can walk"
"We'll get you a wheelchair someway" he jokes.
"You think is funny? Ruining my holidays?"
He leans down to press a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up" you mumble out a tired no, but Pedro's picking you up with his strong arms, taking your body to the bathroom. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.
"You know what? Your fans were right: you do have a slutty little waist" you mock.
"Right" he blushes, embarrased as he takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet. "Open up, baby" he grabs some tissues, trying to clean up the mess you've made between your legs. "Así, justo así, bebé" he parts your hair to the side lovingly, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. "Done, my pretty baby, look at you"
You hum, eyes threatening to close.
"I see you're not an after-sex talker. Come on, I'll take you back to bed" he picks you up again, your head leaning against Pedro's V line as he caresses your head. "Hope you don't mind the smell"
"I love how you smell" you mumble out in a drunk like state.
"Okay then" he chuckles, "let's go back to bed" taking you out of the room, gently placing you the mattress. He then pulls a pair of fresh panties from your suitcase, dressing you in them. He coos at the sight of you, sleeping peacefully despite what you did before.
He finally lays next to you, lovingly lifting up your arm to put it around his waist. He pulls the sheets over your bodies to keep you both warm, in the chilly room thanks to the beach's air.
He feels you move, snuggling closer to his chest to seek warmth.
"I love you" whispered, not expecting you to answer or hear it.
When you snuggle closer, he's sure you do.
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coff33andb00ks · 7 months ago
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Rule Breaker - Pt 1
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max verstappen x single mom!reader
{next}
face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers
"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."
On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.
His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.
"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."
"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."
She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"
Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"
"No, no, where in America," he corrected.
"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"
No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"
"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."
He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"
"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"It's not so bad."
"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"
Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"
"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."
That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"
Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."
"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.
"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.
His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.
"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."
"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.
"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."
"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.
"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."
"Does he like racing?"
"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."
"You'll have to bring him to the track—"
"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."
Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."
"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."
"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."
She giggled, letting out a snort.
And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.
*-*
"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"
Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"
Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"
"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"
Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."
Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"
"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"
"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."
"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."
"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.
"You know it!" y/n called after her.
Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.
Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.
"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.
"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"
Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.
"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.
"He's nice."
"Just nice?"
"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"
Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."
Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.
Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."
Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"
"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."
"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."
"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."
"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."
Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.
"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."
"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.
"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.
"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.
They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.
👋🏻
Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.
Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.
And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.
Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.
Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?
She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.
"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.
"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.
"Love you, Mama."
*-*
"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.
Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.
"Hi!" He waved.
"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.
"Kevin Scott—"
"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"
The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."
"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."
Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"
"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."
"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.
"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."
Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"
Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"
"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.
"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"
Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"
She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."
Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"
Grinning, Max nodded and stood.
"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"
"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."
She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."
"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"
"Only on my tour the other day."
"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.
"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."
"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.
"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"
"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.
"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."
Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"
"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."
What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"
Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.
At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.
"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."
"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"
"I did. And I won the championship too."
"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.
"I am."
"Like Lightning McQueen?"
"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.
She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"
"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"
"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"
"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.
"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.
"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"
Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."
His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."
Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."
"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.
"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.
"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.
Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"
Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.
Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.
"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.
"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."
"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"
"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."
"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"
She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"
"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.
"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"
Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."
Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"
Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"
"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."
"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.
"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."
"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."
"I can Google," she told him.
"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.
To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."
He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.
"I just worry," she sighed.
"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."
"Thank you."
"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.
"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.
Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.
God, she was lovely.
She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."
Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."
"I'm sorry," he said automatically.
"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."
"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.
You always fuck up don't you?
His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.
"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.
Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."
She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.
You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.
1K notes · View notes
bratbarzal · 28 days ago
Text
Let It Happen (LH43) 1/3
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Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader
WC: 17k
If you're ready, all I mean is we could go, I've never craved someone's attention as much as yours.
General Warnings: an almost unbearable amount of sarcasm and snark, even more idiotic shenanigans, many affectionate empty threats of murder/violence, fluff, mentions of golf 🤢, cursing and I'm pretty sure that's it for this half
A/N: in line with the general consensus lmao this has been split, part two will be posted as soon as it's finished (lol) but it's best read as one whole fic, it isn't a multi-part situation really!! it was originally supposed to be my submission for the eras tour fic challenge (hence the graphic I'm too attached to to change) but took a different direction to the song I was given, and I missed the deadline, and I pretty much listened to the secret of us exclusively while writing this whole thing. also dropping an overwhelmingly summery fic in december might actually be my brand. keep your eyes peeled for a christmas fic in july.
very special shoutout to shea @sleepretreat I made a random comment one day that luke gives seth cohen energy, and she fanned that flame like a full time job. ily shea!! I hope this lives up to any expectations and I owe a lot to your instigating!!
AS ALWAYS!!! never proofread!! I'll probably get around to it when the thought of a spelling mistake keeps me awake at night. and also!! please let me know what you think I am like a teeny tiny little plant that can only thrive under the constant shower of validation and you don't want me to wither and die do you? (I’m kidding) (I’m not)
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You kind of, sort of, think you might hate summer.
You haven’t always felt this way, though. Growing up, it had always been your favourite time of the year. 
No school? Check.
Going on vacation, sometimes multiple, all expenses covered by your parents? Double check.
Getting to do all the cool things you don’t have time for in the school year with all your friends? Concerts, festivals, beach days, bonfires on the evenings. Check, check and check again.
But 4 years ago, your whole world as you knew it was torn apart, and summers have never been the same, since.
A season that was once filled with light and companionship, never ending plans and joviality, became darker - isolated, getting yourself out of the house even if everyone else was busy, driving just to drive and making the best of your own company. 
School ended up becoming your escape, especially since you had started college - your studies and the chaos of Greek life distracting you from the calamitous state of your home life, making new friends that became like family and sticking to them like glue, where possible, clingy and possessive to the point of ruin, almost - and so the lack of it in the summers now actually sends you into some sort of warped spiral.
It’s manageable in the winter and spring, the breaks no longer than a few weeks at a time, but going home for summer is somewhat of a nightmare.
It’s hard to go back, hard to ignore the mess your mind has become when it’s just you and your mother - or, you, your mother and whatever bottle of pinot she’s 3 glasses deep into at any given time of the day - and you’re sat in a house that’s a cold reminder of the warmth that once filled it. 
But when Ellie - your best friend since moving to college, the girl who took the sister part of sorority sister to the next level at all possible opportunities over the years - found out you’d put your name down to be the caretaker for your sorority house instead of going home, she had put her foot down on your summertime sadness session.
Which is how you end up moving into her family home - spending the first few weeks integrating yourself into their routine while trying to grip desperately onto some form of your own - trying not to get too used to the feeling of such a big family when you know it won’t be forever.
You braid her little sister’s hair everyday, kick a soccer ball around with her little brother when he needs someone to stand in goal, wash the dishes with her mom, talk sports with her dad, and before long, you blend like a chameleon into their dynamic.
You pick up a summer job at the country club to cling back onto your independence. Your commute provides the solitude and quiet you‘ve grown accustomed to in the years before, a bus journey through town with headphones on, watching the scenery and admiring the greenery until you get to work, donning your navy blue polo and tucking your little notepad into your hip apron as you serve tables at the clubhouse restaurant and bar. 
It’s a much needed escape from Ellie, if you’re honest.
You love that girl with all your heart, appreciate her housing you more than you’ll ever be able to say, but if you have to hear her sit and mope about how hopelessly in love she is with Jack Hughes for even a second longer, you’re going to vomit. Or scream. Or both.
Jack and Ellie grew up together - their families close, Ellie’s dad best friends with Jack’s uncle, or something - and she’s been into him since he had teeth missing - a point she loves to hammer home when it comes to you always listing that as one of his (many, if it’s up to you) cons. Considering his job, and the fact he already lost one, not too long ago, a toothless boyfriend seems like a massive ick, if you’re honest. 
But Ellie is beyond reason when it comes to him. She worships the ground he walks on - talks about him non-stop, messages him every day, regales you with stories you, awfully, but realistically, couldn’t care less about - and it’s the only real problem about living with her.
Even beyond the summer, you two had shared a room your first two years in college, still live in the same house - and it’s a year round problem.
But being unable to escape, having your days tied to close to hers, and knowing that it’s bound to be worse with proximity, Jack back in Michigan for the summer, himself, she’s starting to drive you up the wall.
It wouldn’t bother you if you had never met Jack, but the two of you don’t exactly get along. He’s rude, and self-absorbed, and had looked down on you the first time he ever laid eyes on you, and you really shouldn’t let it get to you, but you do - the thought that your best friend is in love with an asshole, and that she won’t let you hear the end of it. 
Won’t stop whining about how he’ll never feel the same, or that she can’t handle another summer of biting her tongue, of being around him, feeling the way she does, and not being able to do anything about it.
She deserves better. 
Ellie has a heart of gold, and she deserves someone who handles it with care. If Jack Hughes doesn’t like her back, that’s his loss - but you’re kind of getting sick of telling her that.
Getting through a whole summer of it is going to be hard, you think, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than being entirely alone. So you put on a brave face, use work as your escape in the same way you usually do with school, and avoid blowing your top for as long as you can, suffering through the late nights and heart to hearts where Jack is the sole topic of discussion, and bask in the good stuff.
In the chaos of her siblings, in the closeness of her family, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms.
This summer could be okay, you’ve just got to give it a chance. 
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Luke Hughes loves summer.
He loves being back home in Michigan, spending his days out on the lake, or making the trip out to parade around Ann Arbor, catching up with all his college buddies, making the rounds at all the UMich sporting events he now gets a VIP pass to thanks to his last name.
The routine of it all is familiar, and warming, and it restores a sense of normality that playing in the NHL for the past year has so brutally ripped from him, already. 
He had enjoyed starting his summer overseas - making the team for the world championships and competing beyond the abysmal end to his rookie season - had enjoyed the time away from his brothers, if he’s honest. Quinn and the Canucks making it a few rounds into the playoffs, and Jack back home recovering from getting surgery on his shoulder - and it’s the latter he needed the reprieve from.
He does love living with his brother.
Jack looks after him in ways he’ll never really be able to make it up to him for. He always has, Quinn has too, but ever since Luke got drafted to the Devils, Jack has helped him adjust to the chaos of his career without much fuss or hardship.
And he really is grateful for that.
But, God, can he be annoying.
Especially when it comes to his infatuation with his best friend, Ellie.
Jack and Ellie have always been close - despite the fact she’s Luke’s age - and grew up thick as thieves, spending summers together, especially when the family moved to Michigan, and Ellie’s family were just on the other side of town. 
He’s always been obsessed with her, even if it hasn’t always been love - but these last few years have been different. Like a switch flipped in his head when Jack saw what Ellie was like when he came to visit Luke in his freshman year of college.
A version of Ellie that was no longer just his - no longer exclusive to their summer bubble, and lived in a world beyond lounging by the lake and hanging out with the Hughes family.
A version of Ellie who liked partying, liked schmoozing and charming everybody she came into contact with, liked being the centre of everyone else’s attention, not just Jack’s.
And it’s that version of Ellie that has driven Luke’s brother crazy, which has, in turn, started to drive Luke crazy. He talks about her non-stop, and it was those much needed weeks away in Czechia that almost had Luke forgetting just how stupid his brother has gotten about the whole thing.
Until he came home to Michigan, and Jack, in all the commotion with his shoulder, with ending his season early and starting his summer off alone, has worked himself into such a stupor about the whole thing that merely a week into his return, he has driven Luke up the wall. 
He’s grumpy, all the time - which leads to him being snarky, all the time. He huffs and puffs around the house so much Luke is starting to think he might need an inhaler, and he really can’t take any more.
Not when he’s making such a show of his irritation, stomping around with heavy feet and slamming doors that don’t need to be shut in the first place. 
“What crawled up your ass and died there?” Luke frowns as he follows Jack into the kitchen upon his return from therapy, holding out for the doors he swings open with a little too much vigour so that they don’t swing back into his brother’s slinged-shoulder. “I thought the physio is going alright?”
“It is,” Jack huffs, storming over to the fridge and yanking it open, the jars and bottles in the door clanking together in a way that makes Luke cringe. “I’m fine.”
“Tell that to all the hinges you’re testing the limits of.” 
“Don’t start with me, Luke, I’m not in the mood.”
“You just said you’re fine.” Luke rolls his eyes as he starts to scroll through his group chat with his friends from college, trying to check who said they might be free today to get him out of this vicious circle.
“It’s nothing.”
“Clearly not.” It’s interactions like this that confirm to Luke just how annoying Jack has become - because what reason does he have to be so evasive? Luke is handing him the opportunity to air out his grievances on a silver platter, and he’s rather slam cupboards and create creases in his forehead from frowning 24/7.
“Fine, it’s Ellie.”
Luke wishes he never bothered asking, although he has been wondering why he’s been seeing way less of her already this summer. He had figured Ellie was away with family until he saw her at the gas station the other night - had watched from the car as Jack had what seemed like a heated conversation by the entrance. 
“She’s refusing to hang out with me.”
“Has she said why?” Luke asks, although he doesn’t really care. He’s just asking to get it out of the way in the hopes that Jack talking about it might lighten the load, might make his own life a little easier. 
It’s the bitter muttering of your name that captures Luke’s full attention, his neck audibly cracking at the speed in which his head shoots up, no longer caring what could possibly be going on with the boys in the group chat. 
“She isn’t going back to whatever fiery hell pit it is that she comes from for the summer, and she’s staying with Ellie’s family, therefore Ellie isn’t staying with us.”
Luke hasn’t heard your name in a while. Not since he left college last year, not since he got caught up in the whirlwind life in the NHL, when a schoolboy crush on a girl he interacted with once in his entire college career became the least of his worries.
But one utterance of it has his spine straightening, just like it would have done just over a year ago.
You’re in Michigan. You’re at Ellie’s, on the other side of town. You’re barely two degrees of separation from him.
“Why can’t Ellie bring her here?” Luke asks, throat dry and voice breaking so subtly that he hopes Jack doesn’t notice. That could be fun. Would make up for the hell his brother has been putting him through since he got here. 
Maybe a little glorious sunshine might finally get you to notice his existence. He wouldn’t mind third wheeling Jack and Ellie if you were there, too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to prove he’s worthy of your attention - too shy and too scared to do so, back in college, but he’s different, now. Confident, almost. More sure of himself.
“She hates me.” Jack huffs, “Last time we met she was giving me the stink eye all night.”
And of course it would be his brother to ruin his plans, yet again. You’ll probably hate him, too - a hatred so strong for Jack that it seeps through his entire bloodline, because Luke of all people knows he can be annoying like that. 
“Trust me, she probably doesn’t care enough to hate you,” Luke scoffs, not realising the spool of information he’s just given Jack to unravel. 
“You know her?”
“We had a class together. I know of her.”
Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.
Luke knows a lot about you. It’s borderline creepy, the observations he can still remember, even after so long.
He knows you like only like coffee if it’s iced, had seen you with too many clear plastic cups to count, had watched plump lips chewing at straws by the time you had finished the drink. He had even, one time, tried to zoom in on a picture of your order printed on the side in one of his many states of delusion where he had been trying to build himself up to ask you out. 
He knows you can hold your own in an argument, had watched you debate with the best of them in your business comms class, has watched you shoot down most guys that approach you with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, and has watched you take down a frat guy or two, usually in defence of your sorority sisters - who Luke noticed you’re the most protective of. 
He knows you match your perfume to the colour of your outfit, had notice you smelled citrusy like lemons in yellow, floral like roses in pink, sweet like candy in purple, and clean like fresh cotton in blue. 
He knows the pieces of hair that frame your face curl when wet from the rain. Knows you used to volunteer at the pool on the weekends it was open to the kids of the community, would teach them how to swim. He knows you listen to Taylor Swift and has heard you humming just about every song of hers he knows.
But he doesn’t really know you - not on the level Jack is assuming, when his eyes widen and hope flashes across his crystal irises.
“You know how I’m your favourite brother?”
“No,”
“And I let you live with me all year?”
“My name’s on the lease.”
“Maybe you could talk to her for me?”
Luke sighs, shoulders heavy and eyes rolling practically to the back of his head. “I already told you, I don’t really know her like that.” 
“C’mon, you could at least try! I’m dying here, Luke! She’s hogging all of Ellie’s time, and she won’t give me the time of day if I try!”
If only Jack knew how much time you’d ever given Luke, he wouldn’t be asking him such an absurd request.
You’re so out of his league, it isn’t even funny. He probably couldn’t convince you to light a candle in a power cut, much less to give his annoying brother a shot to prove himself.
“You’re wasting your time, Jack,” Luke responds, “I’m gonna meet Dylan at the club. No, you can’t come.”
And by the time Luke makes it out to his car, he’s relieved to have ditched that conversation, entirely. He knows what’s waiting when he gets home, what his brother is going to be like for the next few months to come, but a temporary relief is all he needs.
He had already been planning on getting a few late morning holes in at the club, and meeting up with Dylan had been a white lie, needing some alone time away from Jack’s incessant whining to think about how he was going to survive the summer - and seeing you on your break, perched on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard by the clubhouse bar, basking in the sun and talking with your co-worker, he feels like he might have just struck gold.
Since when do you work here?
He supposes since you decided to spend your summer with Ellie’s family - it only makes sense. Ellie doesn’t live too far from the club - not as close as the lake house, but closer than Ann Arbor, at least. She’d worked in the club shop last summer, even when Jack insisted he’d pay for whatever she needed while she was staying with them - had said it was nice to pass the time with something else while they all went off doing whatever - and he assumes you’re doing the same. 
It’s the first time he’s seen you in a while, outside of coming across your pictures on his Instagram feed occasionally, or the flash of your figure in Ellie’s stories. 
He had thought that, after the year he’s had, he’d be over schoolboy crushes like this - would be over the way his breath catches just at the sight of you, over the way the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and stand to attention, over the way his throat goes dry as he watches your eyes crinkle from afar, watches your lips curve up into a heart-stopping grin.
But it’s like he’s picked up straight from where he left off at the end of his college career, pining after you from afar with hearts in his eyes and feet that start to shuffle at just the thought of approaching you.
If he’s going to do this, though, he needs to be clever about it, he thinks.
Approaching you on your break, limited to the amount of time he can use to put his point across, wasting yours, doesn’t seem like something that will work.
Which is how he finds himself bypassing you completely and walking straight into the bar, offering a friendly nod to the guy stood at the front of house, and letting him point him toward the right section to be served in. 
It isn’t long before you’re in front of him, sidling up to his booth, and he had almost forgotten how pretty you are up close. Hair clipped up with loose strands framing your face, chewing at your plump bottom lip as you scribble on your notepad to get your pen to work. And your honeyed voice settling deep in the pit of his stomach, warmth spreading throughout as you introduce yourself, like he has no clue who you are, and tell him you’ll be his server, “What can I get for you?”
“Five minutes of your time?”
The Luke that spent his college years obsessing over you might have stuttered - his voice might have broke, squeaked or choked in your presence - but while his throat does feel a little dry, he’s able to maintain his cool now, even when you look up from your scribblings to meet his eye. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he has matured.
His heart might jump in his chest, his mouth might tingle, his spine might stiffen, but he holds your gaze, hoping if you see a reflection of confidence that you might give him the time of day.
He’s seen you interact with guys before, has familiarised himself with the ten-foot walls you have in place, has seen others fold and try find a long way around, but he thinks that maybe matching your energy is the way to break through. 
Who doesn’t love a shortcut?
Your eyes narrow back at him as pouted lips form around a response, looking him up and down before tilting your head, and coming back with, “I all of a sudden feel the need to inform you we do have security here,” you point the tip of your pen to the entrance, where he was greeted on the way in. “I meant a drink.”
“Water’s fine,” his gaze flickers to the movement of your wrist as you click the other side of your pen, not even writing it down. “Maybe with a side of conversation?”
“I’ll go get your water,” you offer a smile, and the insincerity of it does little to cool his bravado, even if you head off with mutterings of why do I always get the creeps?
He watches you as you make your way over to the bar, not creep-like whatsoever, and he channels the nerves that sneak up on him, now that you’re distanced, through fiddling with his fingers on the table, pinching at the tips of them when you glance back over your shoulder, probably telling the girl behind the bar just how lucky you were to once again get the weirdo in your section.
It surprises him how little he cares, possessing more of your attention now than he ever has before, and if he could tell the Luke from two years ago, who spent every shared Principles of Marketing class ritualistically watching you chew on the end of your pen, that he’d be able to make eye contact without dribbling and breaking out into full body sweats, he’d have lost his mind.
He embodies a strange level of dislocated arrogance that manifests itself in his body language, sinking into the booth with arms outstretched across the back, a dangerous smirk teasing the corner of his mouth when you return, placing a pitcher of water down on the table and a glass with ice. 
“I’m Luke,” he tells you, placing a hand on his chest and doing his best to ignore the thudding he feels beneath it. “Hughes. Jack’s brother,” and when you look back over to him with a raised brow, he adds, “Ellie’s Jack.”
“And who’s Ellie?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your voice dripping in teasing sarcasm. 
“Funny,” he quips, biting back the urge to call you what he actually means. He can hardly call you cute, you’d probably pour that water straight over him. “I went to UMich, we had a couple classes together.”
Your eyes narrow again, and he knows it’s an intimidation tactic, a way to make him feel smaller than he’s acting, shrinking him down to a version of himself you can stamp your authority on, but he finds himself being resilient for once, carrying on like he isn’t affected.
He is. Massively, in fact. Just not in the way you probably want. Your indifference drives him in a way that presses into his spine, an inner voice pleading, notice me, I’m breaking through!
“Bauman’s class, Business Comms, you sat in the second row, I sat in the third, you dropped your pencil one time and I-,”
“I know who you are.”
So he’s been yapping on at you for no reason? Fantastic.
He can’t let his momentum slip, though, so he forces the corners of his lips into a victorious smile, and counters, “So you know I’m not a creep.”
“You literally memorised my seat in a class from 2 years ago, so…” 
“I have a good memory,” he’s quick to defend, fighting the urge to let his eyes linger on your pouted lips.
“Right,” you roll your eyes, “What is it you want, again?”
“I came to talk about Jack and Ellie.” He nods to the other side of the booth, and has to roll his shoulders so that his chest doesn’t inflate with misplaced hubris when you shuffle into the seat with a huff, discarding your notepad to the side as you level him with another raised brow.
“What about ‘em?”
“About how they’re hopelessly in love with each other and doing nothing about it.”
“You got hopeless right. What’s that got to do with us?”
Us. Oh, he likes that.
“I’m thinking they need a little shove in the right direction. And maybe we could be the shovers.”
You presses your lips together in faux-apology, a lopsided, patronising, adorable frown taking over your expression. “No can do, I don’t shove, I’m a pacifist.”
“A nudge, then?”
He isn’t giving up easy, no matter how much sarcasm you try to throw his way. You wouldn’t have sat down if there wasn’t something about this situation that irks you, too.
If Ellie is being only half as annoying as Jack is, he knows that you’re having a bad time of it. And you’re supposed to spending her summer with her - it can’t be easy, having your friend constantly pining over someone and refusing to do anything about it, if anything, making it your problem.
“Are you here to eat or annoy me?”
“Both,” he smiles, “I just figured a problem shared is a problem solved, and all.”
“How profound.” 
“C’mon, you sat down, you at least agree they’re into each other, and I know you’re staying with her this year, so I know you’ve been getting the same grief I have.”
“I’ve been on my feet 4 hours, I wouldn’t look too deep into me sitting down.” 
“Jack’s been moping around about her for years, I can’t listen to it anymore, he’s all, she’ll never like me back, this, and, I’ll never find a girl like her, that,” he whines, imitating his brother’s voice in the most annoying, high pitched tone he can muster, “I can’t take one more breakdown of her snap stories, especially not if it’s all summer if she’s not gonna be staying over, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
“How supportive,” the sarcasm in your bite does little to hide the beginnings of your smile, your glare softening into what he hopes is the start of some sort of bond, a shared feeling of exasperation. Finding your footfall in common grounds.
“It’s relentless, we can’t go a single conversation anymore without him bringing her up,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, finally giving in to all the ways this is starting to grate on him. “I don’t get why neither of them do anything.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, too, relenting a little. “She talks about him so much it kind of makes me nauseous.”
“How supportive,” he mimics, nerve endings set alight when your eyes meet his over the table, and narrow in a different way, almost appreciative, almost respectable.
“Can it, Hughes,” you scoff, “Me even entertaining this conversation right now is support enough, I’ve had it in my ear for months about how she doesn’t know how she’ll make it through another summer.”
“That’s what I’m saying. If we can get them together this summer, then we’re both better off. No more whining or crying or earaches for either of us.”
“I’d hope you didn’t make your way out here with the mere promise of no more earaches, Luke.” He tries not to preen at the way you say his name. “What’s in it for me?”
“You and Ellie can stay at our lake house.” He suggests, straightening up before he leans onto the table, elbows extending so that he can rest on them, “It’s closer to the club than her family’s place, it’s gotta be better than having her siblings running around you all the time, I can even drive you to work when I’m free, if you want?”
You blink at him slowly, as if to say, and? “So I can stay at your glorified frat house, and you can be my chauffeur?” You ask with an unimpressed raise of your brow, before letting out a humourless scoff of, “What more could a girl want to do with her summer?
“What do you want?” He asks, leaning further forward.
“To go back to work and not worry about strange guys propositioning me, funnily enough.”
Luke laughs, a deep, breathy laugh that rises from the depths of his chest and comes alive in an almost-bark, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his mouth when it comes out.
This is fun. 
There’s no way he’s letting you leave this table without agreeing - just the thought of one more singular interaction keeping him on his toes.
“Why don’t we make it interesting, then?”
“It’s about time you tried.” The quiver of your lip tells him everything he needs to know - and that’s without the entertained glint in your eye that accompanies it. You’re enjoying this, just as much.
“We could make a competition out of it.”
“A competition?” You ask, with a curious tilt of your head.
There it is, he thinks. Interest: piqued. He practically has you in the palm of his hand. Who would ever have thought, the way to a sorority girl’s heart would be a friendly little wager?
“Whoever actually gets them together, wins.”
It’s all he can think of in the moment - petulant and part-planned, but it seems to be enough.
“Wins what?” You lean onto your elbows, your gaze levelling his as he mirrors your positioning, having to slouch a little further forward in his seat to meet your pretty eyes. 
“Whatever you want.” He doesn’t intend it to come out as low as it does, doesn’t realise how close the two of you have gotten over the table, but he sees the flicker of something cross your features as your head tilts again, eyes still locked on his as yours begin to narrow, still just as pretty even when they’re glaring at him.
“It’s what you want that concerns me.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” he jibes, watching the way your lips part in preparation of another witty comeback. “What do you say?” He asks, not giving you the chance, seeing the way it makes your skin crawl that you weren’t quick enough, for once. “Are you in?”
You heave out a sigh, shoulders slumping - a tell-tale sign that you’re about to acquiesce - and Luke starts to feel his chest puff out in victory. This feels like a shut-out. It feels like the best performance of his life. 
“You’re gonna make me regret this, aren’t you?”
“Oh definitely,” he smirks, eyes tracking you as you lean back into the booth, retreating from him in defeat, a hand running through your hair as he promises, “You’ll warm up to me soon enough, though.”
“I can’t see that happening.”
“I can,” he shrugs, leaning back too. “I’ve been told I’m inevitable.”
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Luke can remember, like it was yesterday, the first time he ever saw you.
Freshman year, the week he moved into his dorm at Michigan, Jack had sent him across campus to check in on how Ellie was getting on. He had arrived with some extravagant gift basket in tow, plastic wrapped, a giant blue bow tied around the top and an assortment of snacks inside, and was left knocking for at least five minutes before you showed up.
“Please tell me you’re not another stripper-gram.”
If his throat hadn’t gone so dry all of a sudden, he thinks he would have had more wits about him to have questioned the use of another - a concept that had stuck in his head for weeks until he caught wind of a story of pledges for Pike being sent around campus and forced to lure girls to their house through way of humiliating song. 
But God, you were pretty. 
Siren eyes narrowed toward him, glossy lips pouted pensively, long lashes blinking impatiently as you awaited some kind of response that didn’t come in the form of an open, drooling mouth.
“I’m Luke.”
“Right.” You had sighed, pretty eyes rolling at him. “You’re blocking my door."
“Oh, I’m-,” he stuttered, immediately stepping to the side for you to come forward and insert your key into the lock. “Does Ellie live here?” He asked, confusion etched into his features as he watched you swing the door open, turning in your place to look him over again.
“Depends who’s asking.”
“I’m Luke.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I know her.”
“Clearly.”
“This is her basket.”
“Does she need to sign for it?”
“No, I-,”
“I’ll make sure she gets it, thanks, Lu!”
And when you had taken the basket from his hands, he had been too distracted by the way your skin brushed against his to properly respond, or worry if you had called him that as a nickname or had already forgotten his name, entirely.
He then spent days thinking about you, looking for you - at parties, in the campus coffee shop, online, despite not knowing your name - trying to commit to memory the way your eyes had sparkled when looking his way, until his first Business Communications class.
He had been a little early, first week nerves playing out and his constant craving for positive validation coming to the forefront, and was watching the door waiting for the professor to arrive. He had been slouched in his seat, chin in the palm of his hand, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor, and he had almost given himself whiplash when you walked in. 
He learned your name from there, learned a lot just from watching you in that class, but never really captured your attention.
And if the Luke that has been driving you to work every few days, who has been living with you for the past two weeks - who sits around the same dining table, laughs at the same jokes cracked when you’re all lounging around the house, sits out under the same sun, drinks from the same carton of orange juice in the morning - could tell the Luke that sat pining after you all that time, all the little ways in which he’s captured your attention lately, he’d probably have an aneurysm. 
When you and Ellie moved in, Luke had been the only one allowed to touch your stuff - and there’s a part of him that knows it was mainly because you enjoyed watching him work like a packhorse, hauling your cases up the stairs and dropping them in front of you with a huff, but there’s a larger, more delusional part that thinks you preferred him to the others, maybe even trusted him.
He’s taking credit for how quick you’ve adapted to the dynamic of the house, too. Of all the different faces coming in and out - Quinn’s friends, Jack’s friends, his friends, sometimes even his parents. If you’re around, you’re pleasant. You abide by house rules, some of them stupid, but set by the brothers so long ago that they just work now - like no phones outside of your rooms so that you can be more present. You insert yourself comfortably into conversations, you form your own relationships with everyone - you and Quinn trade book recommendations, you and Jack bicker while Ellie mediates. You do your fare share of chores - laundry, dishes, cooking, even. 
And he’s so caught up in just sharing space, just being around you, even, that for those first couple weeks, he forgets why you even agreed to be there in the first place.
At least, he forgets the incentive part - because he watches mindlessly as you interfere in Jack and Ellie’s dynamic, without a care in the world for the fact that it means he’s losing.
He watches you push one of them out of the way to claim whatever seat at the table or in the car forces them to sit beside each other. He watches you taunt Jack to just the right point where Ellie interferes, coos at him protectively and he melts into her affections. He watches you agree to plans he knows you wouldn’t in a million years follow along with, just to get them together - and all he can do is admire how easy you make it seem. 
He admires when you come out wakeboarding with the group, when you let him fasten you into a vest and don’t flinch when his fingertips brush against bare skin. Watches you bite your tongue over the fact you just got your hair blow dried - a fact you have no problems relaying back to him when he drives you to work the next day, and you’re muttering in his passenger seat about lake water giving you frizz - just so you’re not dampening the mood.
And when you agree to tag along to the golf course on your day off, despite the fact it’s so close to work if could be considered triggering, and you stick by Luke’s side so that Ellie can feign some sort of incompetence until Jack takes it upon himself to correct her form.
You stand by Luke’s side, the two of you watching with mirrored expressions of almost-disgust as Jack wraps his arms around Ellie’s body, and send a shiver down his spine when you lean in for only him to hear as you say, “I’d ask if you’ve put any more thought into what you want out of our bet, but I so have this in the bag.”
The bet.
Luke hasn’t thought about it since that day in the restaurant, if he’s honest, but he had known what he wanted then.
He’s hardly going to tell you, now, though. 
If he’s ever going to take you out on a date, he doesn’t really want to force your hand - not that he has a chance, he’s fallen so behind with this Jack and Ellie thing that it isn’t even funny.
He needs to up his game, if only for the fact that you’ll no doubt catch on to his lack of efforts, soon.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he taunts, because it’s what he does best, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“And how long do you plan on keeping them up there?” You call him out so easily, tilting your head when his eyes meet yours, mischief highlighted by the sunshine that speckles in your irises. 
“Maybe I’m luring you into a false sense of security,” he shrugs, “Maybe I’m letting you do all the heavy lifting so I can swoop in when those weak arms get tired.” He pokes at your side, basking in the way you scowl like you pertain any sort of threat to him.
He has you figured out, by now. 
“I didn’t have you pegged as being lazy, Hughes.”
“You spend a lot of time thinking about me, huh?”
“You wish,” you scoff, shoving when he dares to get too close, and it’s when Luke is biting back a full-blown grin that Ellie comes back over. 
“This sun is crazy, I think I left the sunscreen in the locker room and Jack’s nose is going all red, would you come back with me?”
You smile sweetly at your best friend and agree, only glaring at Luke over Ellie’s shoulder when she’s distracted with saying her brief, temporary goodbyes to Jack, and once you’ve turned and made your way over to the cart, he lets his eyes linger on your figure as you retreat.
The soft sway of your ponytail, the expanse of smooth skin along your legs, he’s completely hypnotised, and he needs to pull himself together, he thinks.
He tries to regain focus as he and Jack work their way through the next couple of holes, caddying their clubs around without the cart, and chatting mindlessly until Jack sighs heavily, like he’s been waiting to bring something up.
“I want to take Ellie out on the boat tomorrow,” He states as Luke tees up, resting on his club as he squints against the sun to watch his little brother, “Just the two of us, so we can talk about stuff.”
“Sounds riveting,” the disinterest in Luke’s tone is amplified by the lack of attention he’s giving overall, looking out across the green and trying to measure his swing before he takes it. “Have fun.”
“I was thinking I’d need your help for it to work.”
“I’m not being your boat-butler again,” Luke scoffs, mind immediately going to all the times their parents would make Jack take Luke out with him and his friends, and all the times he was made to wait on his older brother hand and foot to make up for crashing his hang-outs.
“I’m not asking you to tag along,” Jack scoffs, “You third-wheeling would be the ultimate buzz-kill. I thought you could be of use elsewhere.”
“You’re making whatever it is sound so fun.” 
Luke takes his swing, driving the ball and watching it soar to his desired point with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Jack watches too, stepping to Luke’s side to measure how far from his own ball it lands.
“Nice,” he mutters appreciatively as the two of them load their clubs into their stand bags. “I need you to keep Regina George busy, distract her or something, she’s stuck to Ellie like glue, it’s beyond annoying.”
If only he knew, Luke thinks, a worry in the back of his mind about how his brother owes more to you than he even realises. 
“You worried she’s gonna make her see sense?”
Jack swats at his arm and rolls his eyes.
“I’m worried she’s gonna ruin the good vibes like she usually does and I won’t be able to bite my tongue from saying something and looking like the asshole.”
Distracting you isn’t the worst thing he could be doing with his time, Luke thinks. It’s not like he has to go all out, you’ll no doubt be hanging out around the house and the two of you can hang together. All he has to do is keep you off your phone. Shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve adapted pretty well to mimicking the guys when it comes to staying off theirs.
It ticks off the box of trying to fight for a scrap of your attention. With no one else around, you’ll have no choice but to entertain his company.
And it puts him in front of your little race - lending a helping hand to Jack’s plans to talk to Ellie is surely the same as getting them together. It’s all falling so perfectly into his lap. He isn’t being lazy.
But he can’t let Jack know that, so he heaves out a sigh and offers a slow shake of his head for dramatic effect. “Fine,” he groans, “But you owe me. Big time.”
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You’re starting to find it harder and harder to pretend like you don’t want to be at the Lake House.
If you’re being honest, you don’t entirely know why you’re even trying to keep up pretences, but using your disinterest as armour has become like second nature over the years, and you’re hardly going to stop now.
Even if there are already so many little things about being there that are starting to wear you down.
Quiet, early mornings, for one - birds chirping just outside your open window, sun rays pouring in through sheer curtains that flow in the slight breeze, that light feeling that blows through your chest when you’re sat out on the deck behind the house with a fresh cup of coffee, looking out over the still lake and basking in the peace of it all.
And even when it’s not so peaceful, when the kitchen is full of bodies swerving around each other to try and throw together some sort of breakfast spread - pastries and fruit, bacon and eggs, various boxes of cereal on the counter. Quinn had even made a whole batch of pancakes one morning, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t come down every day since hoping to see him donning that same frilly apron that Cole had draped around his waist and working his magic with a pan. 
You’ve never really been a part of such a full house. You had been an only child for so long - and by the time your parents split, and it was just you and your mom, on the days she wasn’t already at work when you got up - and were so ingrained in your own routine in the morning that you think you might actually need the chaos to function better. The rush of bodies, the arguments over who drank the last of the juice, the bickering over who’s turn it is to do the next grocery run - it’s a kind of entertainment you haven’t been privy to in a long time. 
Being kind of disconnected from everything else isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, either. You’re not attached to your phone, checking socials to see what everyone else is doing, to see if your dad has sent any messages yet this summer, and you find yourself connecting a little more with the people around you and leaving your family stress on the back burner. You’re more focused on what’s in front of you, and your relationships with other people. With Ellie, with some of the guys in the house, with your friends at work, even.
And it’s nice to be closer to work too. You don’t have to rush around trying to make the bus - Luke has been keeping his word and driving you to the club most days, and where he can’t, either somebody else has offered, or you’ve just ridden one of the bikes in the garage that the boys said were free to use - the helmet hair is an easy fix when you have access to the locker rooms.
It’s an adjustment, for sure, getting used to being in a full house. Especially this one - with a constant revolving door of faces, friends of the brothers switching out week by week to come and stay, departing just as you’ve started getting to know them with a promise of dropping by again soon.
So far, you’re almost at double-digits for the names you’ve had to memorise. Some of them you were already familiar with, guys from Michigan who you already knew or knew of, but others were more Jack or Quinn’s friends that you’d never had the pleasure of meeting before now.
Cole Caufield being one of them. 
He had arrived a couple of days after you and Ellie moved yourselves in, closer to Jack than the other two brothers, you had noticed, and was going to be staying longer than any of the other visitors - having his own designated room in the house, similar to you girls.
You like Cole - he’s good fun, can take a joke unlike his supposed best friend, and has the kind of smile that almost gives you a buzz whenever it’s flashed your way. Your first few interactions with him were seemingly pleasant, despite Jack constantly in his ear with a hardened glare pointed your way and no doubt unsavoury words uttered. Cole would just shrug him off, laugh, meet your eyes and drop a wink your way - a gesture you’d usually squirm and cringe at, but Cole kind of pulls it off. 
He joins in when you chirp Luke, too - which, if your honest, is your main source of entertainment since arriving, so your interactions with him grow day by day.
You haven’t really spent any one-on-one time with Cole yet, though. You were hoping to, before he left to visit home for the weekend - for no other reason than to get the scoop on something you’d happened upon at work last week - and had planned on asking him to hang out on your day off. But with Cole now gone for a few days, Jack and Ellie off doing god knows what, Quinn and Luke working out wherever, you have no choice but to spend your free Sunday lounging around the house, trying to find something to suppress your growing boredom.
You start with your nails, painting them a summery orangey-red and doing your toes to match, then do your laundry, abiding by house rules that you rotate the loads between the machines, and fold out whoever’s clothes were last in the dryer and place them in the hamper on the side. 
You’re hoping you haven’t had to fold Jack’s underwear but you decide to live in blissful ignorance - trying to identify the load based on the rest of the clothing in there is impossible when they all share, so it kind of works in your favour. 
You FaceTime your mom for almost an hour, getting an update on what she’s been up to with work, and giving her updates on how your summer is going, trying to focus on your time at the club and Ellie so she doesn’t worry too much again that you’re spending your summer in a house filled with boys. 
And by the time Luke and Quinn come back from their workout, you’re in the lounge, 50 pages deep into a book you really couldn’t care less about, but there’s something in you that refuses to beg one of them for company, so you suffer in silence.
Even when Luke does join you, throwing himself down onto the opposite side of the couch you’re occupying and pushing your feet off his side like it’s his sole purpose just to annoy you.
“I was comfortable there, asshat,” you frown, lifting your feet back into their previous position and using one to give him a light kick to his thigh.
“Yeah, well, I hardly want your feet all up in my business while I’m trying to relax,” he sighs, sinking into the cushions with hands clasped behind his head, biceps flexing and tightening the arms of his t-shirt in a way that momentarily catches your eye. You’re thankful for his closed eyes, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you divert your attention back to the mundane words on the pages in front of you.
“And yet here you are when there are 2 other couches.”
“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to be near me.”
You try to ignore him, pulling your feet a little closer to your body and focusing back on the book, but it’s hard when Luke has such a presence. You feel the little looks he keeps sending your way like a physical touch, and the couch shifts with every slight movement he makes, so when he constantly shuffles, you start to think he wants your attention.
Of course he wants your attention. This is Luke Hughes.
“Are you just sitting down here to annoy me?”
He lights up, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask, and shuffles in his seat to face you, fully, bouncing in place like a puppy being teased with a tennis ball. 
“I’m actually trying to distract you, if you must know.”
“Bold of you to assume you have enough of my attention to be distracting in the first place,” you scoff, trying not to react to the way he smirks in your peripheral, the words in front of you all blurring together. If you were actually focused on them, you’d have lost your place, already.
“I think you pay more attention to me than you’d like to admit.”
“That’s some ego you’ve got on you, Hughes,” you narrow your eyes as you look above the edge of your book, “Is that what you spend that big NHL paycheque on, charisma classes? How to flirt for dummies?”
“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Flirting?”
Damn. You walked yourself right into that one. 
Sometimes biting back at Luke comes like second nature, words first, thoughts after - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it that way. It’s easy, the back and forth, and you can’t really think of an instance with him where you’ve sat in a lingering, awkward silence. You’ve really grown to hate silence, lately.
“You wish.”
“You think I’m charismatic,” he teases in a sing-song voice, knocking at your knee and wiggling his eyebrows when you glare at him. 
“I think you’re an idiot.”
“You’re not gonna ask what I’m distracting you from?”
“I don’t really care,” you lie, eyes darting back down and diverting the attention he so desperately craves away from him.
“Jack wanted to take Ellie out on the boat.” He says, ignoring your attempts to ignore him - pushing your buttons like a full time job. Like an operator for your last nerve.
“Good for her.”
“Alone.”
“No shit.”
“To ask her out.”
“Whoop-de-doo.”
“Whoop-de-,” Luke straightens up, like a whack-a-mole with his head positioning itself over the top of your book, and you kind of wish you had one of those soft mallets right about now. It would be so satisfying to bonk at his head, you think. “What do you mean, whoop-de-doo, is this not what you agreed to be here for? To get them together?”
You scoff, flicking to the next page of the book in feigned disinterest. “He isn’t asking her out today.”
This is the exact something you had wanted to talk to Cole about - whispers in the staff lounge at work earlier in the week doing the rounds would imply otherwise, but your main source is kind of a gossip, and you’re not entirely sure of their reliability, despite the few degrees of separation to the subject at hand. 
Mutterings of Jack and Cole and their little country club connections. 
You can hardly ask Luke of all people if his brother is as much of a man-whore as everyone is making out. Cole was a safe bet - he’d probably just tell you straight up what they’re up to, wear his pride like a shining gold medal. He’s upfront about his promiscuity, at least. Luke is more protective. Of himself, of his family, you’re not entirely sure. There haven’t been as many whispers about him. 
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because he’s a spineless idiot,” you retort, eyes flicking up momentarily to take in his furrowed brow. “No offence,” comes out of nowhere, and you surprise yourself with the instinct to lessen the blow of your words for the first time in forever.
“None taken, he’s only my flesh and blood,” Luke huffs, “You’re just jealous I’m winning our bet.”
“Sure,” you drawl, eyes widening to emphasise the sarcasm as you make a point of angling your head to the next page, like you’ve taken a single word in for the past five minutes. “He’s been talking to one of the girls from work. There’s no way he’s doing that and asking Ellie out, unless he’s completely brain dead.”
And when you look back at Luke, that furrowed brow has shifted into a full blown frown, pouted lips and eyes cast down as if he’s trying to figure everything out in his head. 
It’s probably the pout that has you cushioning your words, once more.
“Again, no offence, I doubt it’s in your DNA.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m no bio student but I don’t think there’s a genetic marker for being a fuckboy.”
“No, about him talking to one of the girls at the club. He didn’t tell me that.”
Why does he have to sound like that? Let down and unsure, quieter than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s like the tone he carries goes straight to your fingers, clasping the book closed without marking your page - because what business do you have carrying on that charade?
“Do you guys tell each other everything?” You ask as you throw the book until it lands on the coffee table with a gentle thud, shuffling until you’re sat against the arm of the couch with knees bent in front of you, giving him your undivided attention and feeling guilty that it might not be enough.
“I thought we did,” he scratches at the back of his head, nervously, “He literally told me yesterday he was taking her out to talk about stuff, why would he make a point of asking me to keep you busy if he’s not serious about asking her out?”
“You don’t want to hear my answer to a question about your brother not being serious.” 
“Who’s the girl?” He asks, ignoring your comment despite the slight ghost of a smile you see flash into the corner of his mouth. 
“Jessica, she works at the pro shop, apparently they’ve been texting all summer.”
You know for a fact that since you’ve started paying attention, you’ve seen Jack on his phone a lot for a guy who chirps you for your own screen-time, and who has enforced the house rule of no phones outside your room like a prison guard yells out no touching at visitation. So it sort of checks out. You’ve tried to sneak a peak, but he’s protective of his stuff like a yappy little dog with attachment issues at the best of times, so you haven’t really put too much effort into it.
“There were a few people talking about it in the lounge at work the other day,” you shrug, “One of the girls talking about it is Jess’ best friend, so not exactly from the horse’s mouth, but I don’t think she’d be spreading lies about her friend around like that.”
“Can you find out?”
“You ask that like I haven’t been trying.” That gets a full smile, a small chuckle that lifts his shoulder, even, “I was gonna grill Caufield about it but he’s gone. But I know you guys have plans when he gets back tomorrow, so if you want to take Cole I’ll hack away at the grape vine at the club?”
“Does this mean we’re teammates?” 
“No. It absolutely does not.”
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Hacking away at the grapevine is really a lot more like plucking absentmindedly at an overgrown patch of grass when it comes to workplace gossip. 
By the end of your shift, you’re leaving the club with a fist clutched full of loose blades, fingers stained green from the amount of information people were willing to ‘fess up.
Liam who works behind the bar had overheard a conversation where Jack had mentioned Jessica, but could only give you useless tidbits, like how he had to stop by the shop for a new putter, and Jess had been the one to ring him up.
Hardly incriminating, but you had a feeling it would be a small piece of a way larger puzzle. That, and guys are notoriously useless at gossiping, there’s definitely more to that story than Liam could even comprehend in his tiny man brain.
Cassidy who works at the front desk had seen Jack and Jess talking in the main lobby last week, definitely flirting, she had said - with hair flips and giggles galore - and way too familiar to be new. 
Much better.
Paola who has the alternative shifts in the pro shop was more than willing to take up ten minutes of your time ranting how Jess’ work is never fully done when it comes to a handover, and she spends half her time on her phone. Kiran, who works the bev cart every Monday, said Jack is always one of the most charming in their golfing group, so it’s no surprise if he is exchanging texts with girls from the club. 
You get dirt from most corners of the place, and it leads you all the way back to your station, to reservations set for the restaurant, where tonight’s list - unfortunately a shift you’re not set to work, although you very much question the serendipity of that - has Jack’s name down at 7pm. A table for 2 in the back corner, shielded from prying eyes and intimate.
And if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already worked a full shift, you would consider staying just to get the full scoop. 
You know Ellie isn’t going to be the one sat across from him, she’s been sending you pictures all day of her various hauls for her quiet night in. New paints and pencils, a sketchpad, some candles - she has all intentions of working on her watercolour technique.
So it has to be for him and Jessica.
Imagine his face, you think, picturing wide, panicked eyes as you roam up to his table to take his order. He’d actually crap his pants. 
But, it’s another set of eyes that you picture when you start to enjoy the scheming a little too much. The sad, teary eyes of your best friend, when she finds out the guy she’s been hung up on for half her life, who she has all but convinced herself isn’t interested, and is - absurdly - ‘far too good’ for her - yeah, right - is dating other girls while taking her out on not-so-platonic boat dates only the day before. A boat date that she had come back to your room, flung herself onto her belly on the bed, and kicked her feet as she gushed all about it. 
So you make your way back to the house after a long day, and resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to, yet again, get all your information on Jack’s date second hand.
You primed Cara, your colleague in the restaurant, to keep an eye out, and she promised to send updates on her breaks, and you have been holed up in yours and Ellie’s shared bedroom trying to keep her busy when there is a persistent knock at the door, and a mop of soft, curly brown hair pokes in before his eyes meet yours.
“Hey, Luke!” Ellie chimes, cheery and all too blissfully unaware of the potentially horrific circumstances you’ve stumbled upon. “You need to borrow my conditioner again?”
You scoff from your position on the bed, watching a slight pink hue flush up Luke’s neck.
“What? No,” he denies, running a hand through his hair and seemingly frowning a little at the way it feels. “I’m going to the store, wondered if either of you needed anything?”
“Nah, thanks, we’re good,” Ellie smiles, attention diverting straight back to where she’s drawing in her sketchbook, missing the way Luke widens his eyes and tilts his head as if to encourage you to take him up on his offer.
“Can I come with?” You shuffle from your position on the bed, swinging your legs out from beneath you and over the side as Ellie looks back at you.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted something.”
“Someone’s got to show the poor guy what’s what on the haircare aisle, El.”
And you’re thankful that Ellie has settled herself in for the evening already by 6:45, showered, pyjamas on, otherwise she might have tried to tag along, too, just for something to do.
You swipe her phone before she can notice and hide it under your pillow before you leave, thinking it might reduce the risk of her getting bored and texting Jack, or, worse, checking his location.
A trip out gives you the chance for you and Luke to debrief each other on your findings of the day - or, as it turns out, just you, because Luke Hughes might be the worst information-gatherer on planet Earth.
Finding his life’s niche in hockey is fortunate, because he definitely wouldn’t cut it as an investigator.
“He just said he didn’t know anything,” Luke shrugs of his earlier encounter with Cole, and you try not to gape at him in disbelief as he fiddles with the screen in his BMW, scrolling through the interface in search of the nearest store. 
You swat his hand away with a scoff, typing in a destination, “And you believed him?”
“Was I not supposed to?”
“You’re about as useless as a chocolate teapot, Hughes. What is it with guys and gossip, are you all really that dumb?”
“That’s the address for the club,” he points out, ignoring your jibe as he starts driving.
“Well done, you can read.”
“Why?”
“Because, thankfully, one of us is a good detective.” You snark, “Jack’s there.”
“So?”
“He’s on a date.”
“No he isn’t,” Luke frowns, attention momentarily taken from the road as he looks over at you. “I’ve been with him all afternoon, he would have told me if he had a date, tonight.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d he say he was going when he left, earlier?”
He hadn’t been home when you got back from work, but that had been around an hour ago. You figured if he was sneaky enough to book into the restaurant when you’re not working, he’d have his wits about him to avoid you, entirely. Whenever the two of you cross paths, you can’t help but try get on his last nerve, and he’s hardly going to want to start his evening in a foul mood.
“To get his hair cut.”
Jesus Christ, you think, he’s so lucky he’s cute.
“You’re so clueless. He’s at the lounge with Jessica, the girl I told you about yesterday.”
“And what are we supposed to do about that?”
“We’re gonna supervise. And maybe interfere, if necessary.” 
You don’t really have a plan, but it seems like the right thing to at least get a look in as to what the hell Jack thinks he’s doing, especially if you’re going to carry on with this whole plan of getting him and Ellie together. If he’s seriously entertaining other girls while making out to Luke that he only has eyes for Ellie, your plans might have to change. You’re not sure if Luke will be on board with the new path you’re willing to take, but you’ll be happy to kill his brother on your own.
“Interfere?” Luke’s eyes are wide, but he keeps them on the road, fingers flexing against the wheel. “I just came out for chips to make nachos, not play spies!”
“Cara’s working tonight, she said she’d keep an eye on them for me. I bet if I cover her hosting shift on Friday she’d sabotage their date. We’d just have to sit back and watch.”
“Oh,” Luke’s brows furrow, as if it’s taking any consideration at all to mess with his brother. “You really are an evil genius.”
You try not to think too hard about who’s been spewing that rhetoric already in his ear, and instead you smile when he casts his eyes your way, proud and pleased. 
“Thank you.”
It takes another 15 minutes to get to the club, considering Luke’s best Driving Miss Daisy impression, so their date is already underway by the time Cara is ushering you to a booth in the far corner, where you can see Jack’s table, but he shouldn’t be able to see yours, and agreeing to play along.
“Can I get you guys any drinks?” She asks as she hands over two menus, and you’re too interested in trying to gauge the vibe at the other table while Luke looks over his.
“Two diet cokes, shaved ice, no lemon,” he says, and you can’t help but frown at the way the specificity of that order rolls so easily off his tongue. That’s your order.
“Any food?”
“Could we just get some nachos, please?” You ask, sliding your menu across the table without even looking, not wanting to give Luke too much of a chance to peruse his own out of fear you’ll be here all night. “And extra picante on the side.”
“Extra guac, too,” Luke adds as Cara scribbles the instructions on her notepad, “And some of those chicken tenders, and extra ranch. And maybe some fries. Yeah, chilli fries. And breadsticks.”
You level him with a glare, already proven right in your decision not to give him too much time to think about what he wanted. He’ll order every appetiser on the menu, if given half the chance. 
“Thanks, Cara, that’s everything.”
“Sure thing, should be around fifteen minutes. They only just ordered,” she points her pen back to Jack’s table, where Jess is leaning onto the table and Jack is leaning back in his seat - heavy on the distance but even heavier on the eye contact. That little shit.
“Does he have any allergies?” You lean onto your own table to ask Luke, quirking a brow up when his eyes darken in response, mischief swirling in his emerald irises.
“Absolutely not,” Cara interjects, “I’m doing this so you cover my job, not make me lose it.”
“Let me guess, he ordered the steak, medium-rare?” Luke asks, and she nods, hesitantly. “Char it.”
“Won’t he complain?”
“He’ll just grumble to himself about how tough it is. It’ll put him in a bad mood. That’s what we want, right?”
“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding your head to ease Cara’s worries despite what you really want is for Chef Michael to poison the cut, entirely. If Jack Hughes wants to play with your best friend’s heart, you’ll play with his gut. But you can settle for burnt meat. Luke can work some sort of magic with that, you think, convincing Jack of all people that any first date that resulted in him coming home all sour-puss and sulky should never result in a second. “Bad mood. Bingo.”
“Fine,” Cara grumbles, “But if he even thinks about asking for a manager, you’re covering my next 3 Fridays.”
She storms off to the kitchen, and you and Luke simultaneously sink into your seats, attention immediately diverted back to the table in the opposite corner of the room.
“We should have kept the menus,” Luke mutters from across the booth, “Could have hidden behind them.”
“What are we, children?” You snark, “You can’t think of any more creative ways to stay hidden?”
“I heard PDA makes people pretty uncomfortable,” he leans onto the table, dropping you a wink when you glance over out of the side of your eye, “We should make out to throw everyone off the scent.”
“In your dreams, Hughes.”
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Luke sort of envies the charm you hold over people.
The way you can convince people to do your bidding with a mere flutter of your eyelashes or a flash of pearly teeth and a glimmer in your irises.
He has trouble, sometimes, skirting around his honesty or hiding his intentions - and he knows that’s not a bad thing, knows that being clear and truthful is an admirable trait, if anything - but the way you persuade others to bend to your whim with intricate white lies based on observations you’ve made or intel you’ve gathered is a praiseworthy level of genius. 
It had taken such minimal effort for you to get Cara on side, to convince her that being a little clumsy is hardly grounds for her termination, and spilling a little of Jack’s drink close to the edge of the table - close enough that it drips onto his pants and Luke can see the steams of frustration exuding from his brother’s skin from all the way on the other side of the restaurant - or bumping her hip on the edge of their table every time she passes are really just harmless irritations, not likely to cause actual complaint. 
You had used the mere tone of your voice to convince Liam from behind the bar to squeeze a little lime in Jack’s water, knowing just from observing him back at the house that he hates the taste, face curling in disgust at even the slightest hint of it, and Luke had watched your eyes gleam in delight every time Jack took a sip of his drink and tried not to spit it back out, seeking much needed reprieve to swallow down the world’s toughest steak cut. 
You’d even worked your magic on him, pouting your lips when the food had arrived at the table, and he had initially declined to share his chicken tenders with you - your grumblings at him ordering enough to feed the five thousand fresh in his memory, but so easily wiped away by the soft, sad look in your eyes, and your whining of, “But I didn’t realise how hungry I’d get. Plotting and scheming is hard work, Luke.”
You ended up eating half, but he could hardly complain - you were doing the heavy lifting out of the two of you.
He was sitting back and enjoying the show - enjoying your company, if he’s honest. Enjoying the way his gangly limbs would sometimes knock into yours under the table, enjoying the way he kept getting little nuggets of information out of you while you were distracted, sipping at your coke and making little comments about yourself, about your life, without even realising you’re doing it. 
And an unplanned, pseudo date ends up being the first time he thinks he’s had a glimpse at the real you.
The you who knows more about hockey than you’ve ever let on before, who comes back to his stories with contextual questions about the game, even has references to a few games of his back at Michigan, and keeps the conversation flowing despite your feigned disinterest, and a constant gaze cast his brother’s way.
That would usually drive him crazy.
He’s experienced it so often that he has come to expect it, people only entertaining his company to acquire the attention of his brothers, but that’s not what you’re doing. Not really.
You pay more attention to Luke than you’d ever let on.
You ask him about his time in Ostrava at the beginning of summer, even though he’s only mentioned being overseas once while you’ve been staying with him - an offhanded comment from Quinn at breakfast that you must have taken on. Ask him about all the food he tried while out there, when he mentions he doesn’t like picante, and you use it as a springboard to talk about what sort of spices he does like, or if he’s the type to try things or stick to what he knows. 
You ask him about being the youngest sibling, and it stems from an offhanded comment Luke had grumbled about always being the last to be clued in on stuff, about how Jack had probably confided in Quinn about his extracurricular activities at the club, and didn’t trust him enough to let him in on the fact he’s going out on dates. You ask if he usually figures things out himself before he’s told them, if that’s what makes him so good at observing and analysing stuff, and he hadn’t ever realised he was particularly good at those things before you brought it up. But then you reference a day in class one time, where he had picked up on something in a textbook that you never would have figured out in a million years, and his heart leaps at the praise you don’t even realise you’re giving him.
You sandwich your perceptions in your usual snark, but he doesn’t miss the slight curve of your lips anymore when he bites straight back, knowing now that there is some part of you that feels the nip of his teeth, that acknowledges his existence beyond him being a speck of inconvenience in your peripheral.
And he gets a little carried away in that acknowledgement - stops paying attention himself to what is happening on the other side of the room and tries to focus on what’s in front of him; the girl he pined after his entire college career, sat sharing nachos and pretending not to know him at a level you so clearly do.
You must get carried away, too, because neither of you notice Jack’s date wrapping up until Luke catches him hand his card over to Cara.
He’s lost count of how long the two of you have been at the club, now - way longer than it takes to get chips from the store, that’s for sure - and all he does know is that if Jack catches either of you two here, after a night of mishaps, bad food, spilled drinks and Cara’s incessant clumsiness, he’ll know who’s to blame. 
“We better get out of here before he sees us,” Luke sighs, not entirely wanting to wrap up his time with you but knowing he doesn’t really have a choice.
“I’ve just got to pick something up before we head back,” you reply, edging out of the booth at the same time Luke does, “I’ll meet you out front just give me two minutes?”
“Be quick,” he tells you before you scurry off, and he flags down Cara, who tells him you already put your bill on your worker tab. He tells her to switch it to his, and that he’ll drop by tomorrow to pay it off, promising to leave her a good tip for her stellar services for the evening. 
He waits where you asked him to, making sure to stick to the side of the entryway where he can duck for cover if his brother makes an appearance - but you show up first, skipping out from the staff lounge with a bag of tortilla chips in hand.
“Let’s go, Lukey boy!” He follows you out like a puppy on a leash, all the way to where his car is parked, almost bumping into you when you stop and turn without warning, stretching your hand out to him. “Give me your keys.”
“Are you crazy?” He snorts, “You’re not driving my car!”
“I know a shortcut!” You reason, stepping forward and making a grabby motion with your fingers, “We gotta beat Jack home, I just paid another server $20 to spill a whole drink on him before he leaves and he’s gonna be pissed. I want to see the meltdown back at the house and you drive like a nun!”
Luke doesn’t know why he gives in so easy - it could be the proximity, the way you’re so close you have to look up at him, eyes twinkling softly under the moonlight, voice carrying over to him like a siren song, or it could just be because he’s weak - but he hands his keys over with a roll of his eyes and climbs into the passenger side, sliding the seat back with a huff to accommodate his long legs and watching as you adjust the driver’s side, cringing at the way he’s gonna have to figure out exactly how he had it before.
You drive like a maniac, to the point where Luke has to screw his eyes shut as you use some back road, can hear the squelch of mud beneath his tires and squirms at the thought of having to take it to the car wash, tomorrow. 
But you make it back to the lake house much quicker than if he were driving, he’ll give you that. So quick that you feel comfortable enough to turn to him once you’ve pulled up, in no rush to unbuckle and get out to get inside before Jack gets home.
“Just so we’re clear, this is a point under my name. You’re not claiming tonight as a win.”
Luke chuckles, turning in his seat to face you, features illuminated by the dim overhead light that turns on when the engine switches off and a slight flush of exhilaration to your cheeks. There’s no pretending you haven’t enjoyed yourself, not tonight. “But the steak thing was my idea?”
“If it weren’t for me, you’d be sat watching baseball and thinking he was getting a 3 hour haircut, you can’t seriously be trying to steal this from me, I thought you athletes had integrity!”
“You’re really keeping score?”
“You’re not?”
If Luke’s honest, he hasn’t really thought about your whole wager all night. He’s been too wrapped up in the idea that his brother had lied to him. Twice. And now his whole plan for the two of you all summer has potentially been messed up. But hearing you mention it, hearing you talk about it like it hasn’t been flushed down the toilet by his brother’s idiocy sparks something in him - excitement, anticipation. He doesn’t want to let this go.
“I actually think we made a good team back there,” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours to gauge your reaction to the thought of doing this together.
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re gonna lose,” you retort, eyes sparkling with those same sentiments he had just felt. 
“Probably,” he acquiesces, “Also ‘cause you kind of scare me a little after tonight, last thing I wanna do is go up against you when you have the power to turn half the country club against me.”
You smirk, and his eyes are drawn to the plush curve of your lips, watching them as they form around the softly spoken words, “God forbid you can’t go a round of golf without your caddy breaking down.”
“Exactly.” He mutters back, glad to see your gaze is still zeroed in on him when he meets it again. He can feel the thump thump thump of his pulse in his ears, and takes a deep breath before proposing, “Partners?”
He cocks a brow and holds his pinky out over the centre console, and you eye the digit, sceptically, narrowing your eyes into a glare before raising them to meet his. “Fine,” you grumble, then hook your little finger through his and tighten it to shake, a slight yelp of surprise filling the car when he tugs, your lax arm giving way until your knuckle touches his lips and he kisses it.
“Ew,” you whine, snatching your finger back as he fills the space himself with a hearty chuckle, wiping it on his hoody in disgust. “That’s gross!”
“No take backs,” he smiles, victorious, with his chest puffed out, primed for you to swat at with the flex of your hand, and the two of you are only pulled out of the moment by the sound of tyres pulling up on the gravel behind you, both of you stumbling to unbuckle yourselves and climb out of the car. 
Jack is exiting his own vehicle behind, and stomps down the driveway, shouldering past you until he realises who he has passed, turning back and looking at you with suspicion cast across his features. 
“Where have you twobeen?” Jack asks, glancing a curious eye between the two of you before meeting Luke’s gaze, levelling him with an inquisitive glare.
“We went to the store for chips,” Luke holds the bag up, the crinkle loud enough for Jack to hear, and he feels an insurgence rising within him, spurred on by the way his brother is looking at him like he’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions. “Nice haircut.”
Jack runs a hand through his hair, surprise crossing his features in a brief flash at the call out, like he had never even expected Luke to notice his hair looks no different to the last time he saw him mere hours ago, like he would never even need to question his alibi.
“Oh, yeah, I got the day wrong. Went out for dinner instead.”
“On your own?” You ask from beside him, your presence giving Luke the kind of back up he very much needs right now, a new target for Jack’s narrowed eyes that takes the heat off of him a little, lessens the burden of lying to his brother - despite Jack being the one who started it, it doesn’t make Luke feel any less bad, doesn’t quell the need to word vomit and admit to all the ludicrous things he had done to ruin Jack’s night. “You end up having a little accident there, bud?”
Luke tries not to outwardly laugh as his attention is diverted to the wet patch that still soaks up the front of Jack’s pants, lips quivering as he presses them together, oblivious to the steam pouring out of his brother’s ears as he immediately gets riled up. 
“One of your esteemed colleagues at the club apparently lacks hand eye co-ordination. Plus, some of us like our own company,” Jack scoffs, “Some of us can go an evening without the need to annoy anybody else.”
“It’s not news to me that you’re in love with yourself, dude,” you retort back, entirely unbothered by his jibes. “Bet you’ve got all sorts of riveting thoughts swirling around that ginormous head of yours, must keep you busy for hours on end.”
“At least I have thoughts, at least I’m not some airheaded-,”
“Hey,” Luke’s tone is authoritative when he calls out, stern and demanding, “Cut it out, Jack.”
“She started it!”
“She asked you a question,” Luke frowns, disappointed with how quick his brother had taken to escalating the situation, all in an attempt to deflect the attention from his own deception. He knows you don’t need him to protect you from Jack’s sharp tongue, knows you can very much defend yourself, but he needs to vent his frustrations, somehow, without causing a bust up on the driveway. “You could have just give her a straight answer without biting her head off.”
He feels like you’re a little closer, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know it’s the slight brush of your arm against his or if it’s something else, something less tangible - but it warms him, all the same. Steadies the static thump of his heart in his chest at the thought of starting an argument with his brother out of nowhere. 
“Whatever,” Jack rolls his eyes, “I’m going to bed.”
And as Jack turns, Luke sees your lips part, ready to send him off with the last word until a large hand clamps itself over your mouth, and your wide eyes meet his over the sides of his fingers.
He’s not sure why he did it, why he all of a sudden feels comfortable enough to cross the boundaries of purposeful touch, but he doesn’t entirely regret it.
Plush lips press mid-word against his palm, and your skin is soft, cheeks warming ever so slightly beneath his hand.
“You gotta let him go, there’s no use fighting with him tonight, it’s better to drag it out. Didn’t think I’d have to teach you about the beauty of the long game,” he says, voice low as he watches his brother retreat to the house, waiting until he’s safe inside to retract his hand. “Not like this, anyway.”
“Your brother’s an asshole,” you grumble, “Full offence.”
“No arguments from me,” Luke concedes, holding his hands as if surrendering to the fact, himself. “What are you gonna tell Ellie?”
“Nothing.” You sigh, stepping a little down the drive and toward the house before turning back to him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, partner.”
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There have only been a handful of times in your life you’ve ever been thankful for work coinciding with huge plans, but when the group had decided that they wanted to go see Zach Bryan play Ford Field, you had thanked your lucky stars you had been put down to work a full shift at the restaurant and wouldn’t be able to go.
Not only for the fact that he isn’t really your thing, but for the fact that you’re finally getting a full evening to yourself.
So far, in your time at the house, most evenings have been spent with everyone else - group dinners, game nights, movie nights, even a couple of girls nights with just you and Ellie scattered in there, but nothing on your own, yet. 
You can’t wait. And with an empty house, you have a full pamper night planned. You’ve been stocking up odd bits on your trips to the store over the past couple of weeks - sheet masks, aromatherapy candles, you’ve even picked up some flower petals from the spa at the club, in the hopes that you might even treat yourself to a relaxing soak in the bathtub. You can play whatever music you want, make whatever food you want, sit wherever you want in the house, out on the deck, overlooking the lake with a book in hand and no chirpy voices in your ear all night.
You can’t wait.
The only downside is not having a ride home, but you haven’t finished too late. The sun will still be up for a couple of hours, and a walk in the simmering heat back to the house doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.
Your feet carry you with ease down the back roads, and you even make the journey without your headphones on, taking in the scenery, the blissful peace of your surroundings, so lost in the tranquility of it all that the sight of Luke washing his car on the drive when you get home dampens your mood as quick as a torrential downpour of rain, flash floods coursing through your evening and wrecking your plans entirely. 
“What the hell are you doing?” You can’t help the bite in your tone as you approach, sneakers crunching against the gravel as Luke pauses the hose, looks over at you with the sun in his eyes, and you have to remind yourself he’s just ruined the one night you have for yourself before you get distracted by the fact that he’s shirtless.
“Washing my car?” he calls back, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Detroit right now?”
Luke shrugs, and you have to will your eyeballs not to move any lower than his neck to watch his shoulders lift and drop, lest you get too caught up in the broad expanse of his chest and do something ridiculous like drool.
“Wasn’t feeling it.”
“You weren’t feeling a concert you guys haven’t shut up about for weeks, but you were feeling washing your car?”
He’s dead. When he’s finished with his car and he retreats to his room, you’re gonna smother him with a pillow and discard of his body in the lake. You’re not even gonna let him shower, first. That’s what the lake’s for.
He’s crapping all over your plans because he wasn’t feeling it?
“It needs cleaning,” he shrugs again, and you swear you’re gonna jump in and run him over with the damn thing, “In fact, you really should be helping me.”
There’s a small part of you that feels like the thoughts of violence are worryingly aggressive, but then a larger part of you realises he must have a death wish.
“How’d you get to that conclusion?”
“You’re the one who drove us through a swamp,” he scoffs, a pointed hand flung toward the body of his car, where the sides are lined with a thick layer of dried dirt from the other night, “You get it dirty, you clean it up.”
“As much as I would absolutely love to fulfil your pervy car wash fantasy, I have much better things I could be doing with my time.”
Or you did, until Luke rained all over your parade of solitude.
“Like what?”
“Literally anything but this.” You gesture at the show he’s putting on. The suds dripping from the roof of the car, the hose in his hand, the buckets scattered around the perimeter. “I need to shower, I just walked from the club and I-,”
A death wish might actually be an understatement.
Luke wants you to murder him in the most gruesome, horrific way you could possibly muster - he has to, because there’s no other explanation for why he’d turn the hose on, point it straight at you, and drench the front of you, entirely. 
You can feel the fabric of your t-shirt dampening and sticking to your chest, and you scrunch your eyes shut to stop droplets of water slipping into them, thankful that when they open again, his own are looking back at you, and not any lower.
You’d really have a reason to kill him, then. 
“You did not just do that.” You growl, glaring back at him with a clenched jaw as the fucker beams back at you, pressing the trigger once more in a short burst that fires straight at your chest, again.
“What, that?”
“You’re so dead.”
You drop your bag and launch for him, aiming to take the hose from his grip, but he fires it again out of sheer panic, the water spouting out from between your splayed fingers, cold and pressured, and it soaks the both of you, raining down as you grapple for the head and Luke remains unrelenting.
There are squeals and yelps called out into the misty air between the two of you, and you get to a point you can’t tell what sounds are coming from who, but you manage to wrestle the hose from his grip and point it straight at him as he jets away with a laugh that rumbles straight from his belly.
It’s the kind of laugh that elicits another, and you don’t realise until he’s circling back to you that the laughter is coming from you - giggling, even, as the two of you engage in a water fight like misbehaving children - and it isn’t long until all aggressive thoughts wash away with the suds that slip to the gravel, forgetting why you were even annoyed in the first place.
It shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but after the long day at work, and the tiring walk back, letting your guard down and engaging it a little mindless chaos seems to wake you up a little.
Your childish game gets Luke what he wanted, anyway, the two of you working together to clean his car when you realise he’s only running in front of all the parts that actually need hosing off and relying on you having bad aim to get the job done, and you figure getting your hands a little dirty is harmless when you’re already soaked through and in dire need of a shower.
And your pamper-plans of a bubble bath and self-care don’t entirely come to fruition, but Luke promises to make up for his petulance by ordering pizza and sticking a movie on, so you bite your tongue to refrain from voicing your initial complaints, and decide to just go with the flow, for once - he hasn’t exactly led you astray, yet.  
You take a little longer in the shower than normal, with no one around to complain about hogging the bathroom or worry about them barging in unannounced, and you suppose that’s a small victory - one little luxury you get to cling to as you bask in the steam, letting all the tension slip from your aching muscles after being on your feet all day.
And once you’re out, hair dried just enough with a towel that it isn’t going to drip or soak your t-shirt, and you’re dressed in your pyjamas, you make your way downstairs, where Luke has already set up a plethora of snacks in the living room.
Nachos, popcorn, candy and drinks scattered across the coffee table as he relaxes on the couch, hair extra curly after his shower and an old Michigan t-shirt stretched tight across his now much-broader chest. 
“Thought I’d wait for you to pick a movie,” he chimes up from where he’s sat, gesturing with a lazy point to the wall of blu-rays beside the TV. 
“Did Netflix never make it to the Hughes household?” You scoff in disbelief as you take them all in properly for the first time. You’d seen them in your peripheral when you’d been hanging out down here, before, but actually looking at them up close, reading all the titles, seeing the sheer volume of how many there are, it kind of surprises you.
“We can look on Netflix if you want. They always take stuff off, though.”
You know. All your favourite movies get taken off of streaming, and you only ever find out about it when you’re really in the mood to watch them. As soon as you realise the wall is alphabetised, you know exactly where to look.
“That’s alright,” you shrug, stepping to the side as you track backwards, through M, L, K and J. “You guys are pretty analogue, I’ve noticed.”
“What do you mean?”
“The board games, the DVDs, the whole no phones around the house thing.”
“No phones around the house is common courtesy,” he chuckles, “But I guess we’re a little weird about the other stuff.”
“It’s pretty cool,” you shrug, spotting the DVD you want and sliding it out to assess the case. “It’s old school. Probably better for the brain. My little brothers can’t really function without an iPad and they’re 5, it’s freaky, like they’re haunted by the capitalist ghost of Steve Jobs or something.”
“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Luke frowns where you almost expect him to laugh, and you spin on your heel to face him. He has this look about him like he should have known that - like the two of you have ever conversed in anything other than sarcastic quips and scrunched up faces, or whatever attempts at flirting have been on his part. 
“Technically they’re half brothers,” you shrug, “They live out in Philly with my dad and step mom, I don’t really get to see them much.”
“Didn’t know you were from Philly, either.”
“I’m not, my dad moved out there when him and my mom got divorced.”
It’s not something you really love talking about. 
The few times you’ve tried, you’ve been shot down, patronising tones scoffing at how your biggest trauma is the separation of your parents, as if your whole world didn’t crumble down with the demise of their relationship, the demise of life as you knew and very dearly loved it.
“You don’t see him even in the summer?”
“Him and his family are on vacation in Europe for 6 weeks. England, France, Spain, Germany, the boys are into soccer so they’ll be out there until the Euros.”
You don’t miss the way Luke’s face scrunches at how you call them his family, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him to start pitying you, so you throw the DVD case toward him before you can second guess your choice.
Interstellar. 
You hope he doesn’t pick up on why it might be one of your favourites. Especially not considering the topic of the conversation at hand. Something about the crippling regret Cooper has for leaving Murph behind plucks harmoniously at some unidentifiable strings deep within you, but you’re hardly about to admit that to Luke, of all people.
“I love this movie,” he smiles, almost surprised, as if he expected you to throw The Notebook his way. Maybe next time - he’d probably love that movie, too, if he gave it a chance. 
“Me too. I love space movies.”
“Like Space Jam?” He asks as he pushes himself up, going toward the TV to set up the movie with the DVD in one hand and the remote control in the other. 
“No, like movies about Space,” you say, throwing yourself down onto the same couch he just vacated and tucking your feet beneath you to get comfortable. “Although I guess Space Jam would technically fit into that bracket.”
“I didn’t realise that was a genre,” he chuckles.
“Not the scary ones, though, I don’t wanna be freaked out by space.”
“Is that like a thing? You just like any movie set in space?”
“I like anything about space, period. Movies, documentaries, books. Thinking about it makes me feel really insignificant.”
“Insignificant? Is that not a bad thing?” He asks as he makes his way back, settling into his side and angling his body toward yours.
“Do you ever think about how big the universe is, Hughes? It’s humongous! If I ever feel anxious or panicky I think about just how big it is and how I’m not even a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. If I’m so tiny, how big can my problems actually be?”
“I guess that makes sense,” he seems to mull it over in his head, the thought of him even considering it and not making you feel stupid warms your chest - makes you forget just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him in the last couple of minutes alone, makes you worry less that you’re sharing too much. “I think I might be the opposite, though. Probably the youngest brother in me, I only feel better if I feel bigger.”
You think that might be why he’s always trying to one up you - sassy comments and inappropriate jokes galore. Not that you mind any of it, not really.
“What about you? What movies do you like?”
“You’re gonna be so shocked.”
“Sports movies?”
“Look at you, knowing me like the back of your hand.” He coos, nudging at your knee with his hand. “I’ll watch anything, though. We should take it in turns, whenever it’s just us,” he says like the thought of spending time alone with you has only just crossed his mind. “Picking a movie to show each other.”
You think there’s a lot of yourself in the media you consume. The movies you watch, the music you listen to, and sharing those things with Luke feels like giving him the only other key to a high security vault. It’s something you’ve avoided so far - letting him play his songs in the car, avoiding making any sort of pick in the group movie nights. It’s daunting, and it’s a lot of pressure, and so you don’t know why you agree with so much ease - a shrug, and a casual muttering of, “Sure, why not?”
The pieces of your dynamic slowly start to slot together, and you start to realise why you’ve been entertaining his company so often, lately. Why your mood so quickly de-escalated itself, earlier. Why you’ve found yourself curled up on the same couch as him, instead of literally anywhere else in the house, doing anything other than this. Why you’re so quick to agree to letting him access all these unseen parts of you.
And why you think he might be able to read your mind, after he asks, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Only if I get to ask one back.”
“What were you gonna do tonight, if you were on your own?”
Thank God, you think, your heart jumping at the thought of anything else he could have asked.
“I was gonna do a sheet mask and steal the bottle of wine Quinn stashed behind the laundry detergent.” You admit with a nonchalant shrug, the plans you had been looking forward to all day seeming mundane in comparison to this. “Why’d you stay behind? You love Zach Bryan.”
“I love sheet masks and stolen wine, too.”
Your lips curve up before you get the chance to huff at his non-answer, and you feel your throat go a little dry at the way his curve, too - the way his green eyes darken when they meet yours, and you feel like he’s looking straight through you.
It’s around half way through the movie that you realise how much you’re enjoying yourself - when you look over at Luke, and the light from the screen is still bouncing off the sticky white sheet plastered to his face, only just able to make out his round eyes through the little slit in the fabric. 
You sip at your wine to hide your smile, and turn your attention back to the TV until Luke nudges at your feet with his, and your eyes meet over the tops of your bent knees. 
“You tell anyone I did this, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Your laugh ripples through every inch of your upper body, rumbling up from your belly and manifesting itself in shaking shoulders, your smile wide and your sheet mask slipping out of place. “You can’t threaten me with a good time, Hughes.”
You spend the rest of the night trying not to think about how there might just be a tiny door in your heart, eking it’s way open for him to squeeze his gangly limbs into.
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>PART TWO<
another a/n: I don't want to put a timeframe on when the next part will be posted bc as soon as I do that, my brain will revolt and it won't happen, but I'd love to know your thoughts in the meantime!!! I have a lot of the rest actually written, and what I don't have written, I have drafted, so it shouldn't be too long but!!! like I said no timeframe!! I've had a lot of fun with this dynamic, and hearing any opinions would mean a lot to me!!
this was my first time writing reader insert if you saw any instances of she/her where they shouldn't be, no you didn’t. I tried as best as I could to avoid using Y/N because it takes me out of it I don’t even remember if I put it anywhere but sometimes it's hard to get around I did my best ok!!!
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tastesousweet · 6 months ago
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⭒ blurb : podcasting
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bf!hamzah x poc!reader
summary: based on this ask!!! little blurb of the times you pop up on the ooc podcast
mickey speaks: this was so funny to write!!! also i need to be hamzah's gf yesterday bitch
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hamzah having you in an episode with mandy and martin
“oh wow this couch gets kinda tight when four people are squeezed on here” hamzah says while adjusting a few pillows
“yeah,” martin starts before addressing the audience, “and, well, you’re probably wondering ‘who the heck is that?!’” he gestures his hand over to you, beside hamzah with your legs folded and knees lying against his thigh
you can’t help but smile as hamzah introduces you, “and, yeah, believe it or not i have a girlfriend.”
“i’m right next to you so i’d hope they believe it” give a soft giggle
“only hamzah would announce he has a girlfriend with ‘believe it or not’” mandy adds and hamzah throws a hand up in the air in defeat
martin: “i can’t help but think this feels like in middle school when people were just group dating all the time”
hamzah: “was group dating that common? i don’t remember that”
you: “i remember certain friend groups at my school doing that but i definitely wasn't participating”
mandy: “this isn’t really a group though martin, more like a double date? there’s four of us”
martin: "it's not all about numbers mandy sometimes there's just a vibe"
martin: “but you two have been dropping hints about dating for a while now”
you: “yeah, we’ve been doing a little soft launching here and there”
martin: “i like that term a lot actually”
mandy: “i think it’s cute, but i've seen a lot of people online that don't use it properly”
you: "i agreeeee, like you didn't soft launch by posting the back of his head if we already saw the front of it a week ago- we know who he is!!! there is no mystery"
martin: "oh so the appeal is the mystery... almost like scooby doo?"
hamzah, nodding his head: "mhm... exactly"
you: "it's always two dumb bitches telling each other-"
you and hamzah together: "exactlyyyyy"
martin looks over to mandy as the two of you laugh: "oh come on this is their first episode together and look at them mandy! we have to be cuter, come on. lock in."
hamzah: "hey no need to be jealous, my friend."
hamzah pats martins thigh
mandy: "so what was that right there?"
hamzah: "you wouldn't understand..."
martin: "no but seriously mandy you never soft launched me- only hard"
mandy: "there was no need to??? next time i'll do it i guess"
you, laughing: "next time???"
hamzah is sat in thought for an extra second before he replies to martin, making them both laugh
hamzah: “okay martin you said like that term so much? boy, now imma soft launch these nuts in your mouth”
you: "and i know you were thinking on that joke for a minute"
martin, through laughs: “okay, okay, enough”
hamzah, wiping his eyes: “well, now the jig is up. you know it's all aired out and public”
martin: “yeah... a hard launch on the podcast, that’s crazy bro”
you and mandy, mocking: “that’s craaazzyy brooo”
hamzah answering your call during a podcast
martin: “hamzah whenever you buy clothes from the store or get it shipped in the mail always wash your clothes!”
hamzah: “i do wash my clothes but if it’s new that doesn’t make any sense”
martin: “so you’re just gonna open it up and put it on?”
hamzah: “yes!”
hamzah’s phone starts ringing
martin: “and wow. now look who’s breaking the phone rule!”
hamzah: “stop shhh. it’s y/n”
he answers, hamzah: “hey what’s up?”
you see the mic in his hand and widen your eyes, you: “oh shit, i’m sorry to interrupt”
hamzah: “it’s okay i have something to ask you now anyway.”
you: "okayy.. do you wanna go first or me?"
hamzah: "you go ahead"
you: "okay quick- is this business casual enough for an event tonight?"
hamzah: "nobody is doing business lookin' that hot, you can't be serious"
you: "kay thanks"
hamzah, jokes: "you are not anyone's office siren, girl"
you: "i'm gonna hang up"
hamzah: "no!!! i need to ask if you wash your clothes after you buy them."
you: "if they smell like stale water and factory chemicals, yes"
hamzah: "martin is educating me on the importance of this unimportant thing right now."
you: "and you should listen to him, stinky"
martin: "thank you!"
hamzah: "oh nahhh, now i'm gonna hang up"
you: "mkayy bye, sorry for interrupting! bye martin!!!"
martin: "byee"
you drop something off at the warehouse studio while they’re filming
hamzah: "what was that noise?"
martin: "i don't know..."
hamzah: "it sounds like someone's actually trying to break in, what?"
martin: "were you expecting company?"
hamzah: "no, were you?"
martin: "no...i mean let's ask the audience"
martin turns to the camera, concerned
hamzah: "okay i'm actually about to go check. this is weird."
it cuts to a clip of hamzah sat again and you peeking your head in the frame to wave
hamzah: "nevermind. it was just my sweet girlfriend bringing us lunch, sorry if that scared you guys."
martin: "should we make like a super artifical thumbnail for clickbait? somethin' like; 'someone tried to kidnap us in our studio!'
hamzah: "no"
they have a trolling episode where you and mandy both sub in and act as martin and hamzah for an entire episode
mandy: "you know i find it crazy how we manage to talk about nothing for an entire hour"
you: "this is the talent people expect from us bro! and if we ever get too boring we can always discuss the state of sabrina and barry's relationship."
mandy: "true. and don't make fun of me but everytime man-crush monday comes around i'm always picking barry..."
you: "well if i can't make fun of you then i'll just stay quiet for your sake."
taglist -★ (some of u didn't ask to be tagged but have frequently liked my hamzah content lol, just lmk if you'd prefer not to be tagged!!!)
@sirenedeslily @333michelle @thatmartinkitten @@maybankfr @imsosillygoofylol @certainfestivalnerdshepherd
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monstacheol · 5 months ago
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𝓓𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮
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❀Pairing: C.SC x afab! reader
❀Summary: When your husband goes on a two-week business trip, you are left alone in the comfort of your shared home until your heat hit unexpectedly. With Cheol away, you have to break this heat soon before he comes back. Turns out….he came back sooner than you thought.
❀WC: 4.3K (Originally supposed to be 2K words but I wrote too much.)
❀Warning: Dom! Alpha Seungcheol, Sub! Omega Reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe everyone), mild dirty talk, breeding, mention of a baby, pet name: (y/n): baby, princess, sweet girl; Cheol: cheol, daddy( a few time) (I'm missing out a lot. Let me know and I'll add more.)
❀Taglist: @kyeomiis @onlywonwoorideul @scoupsieee @jimintopiaaaa @gyuguys @rissepuffs04 @yawnozone
❀Notes: It has been a while since I wrote smut, especially an omegaverse one, so I don't know if this is good. I worked hard on it the best I could. Please bear with me. I am rusty and my writing style has changed. It is also proofread and edited. I edited it the best I could. So if there is any minor grammar error, I'm so sorry. If this is any good, I'll write the next prompt I had in mind. One of two or three that I have before school starts for me. So I hope you enjoy it and if it's awful (I think it is but that's my opinion because I was stressing about it for weeks), I'm so sorry and I hope to improve soon. Please comment, like, reblog for support.
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You were curled up on the bed, panting, hot, and wearing nothing but your husband's t-shirt and your fingers stuffed inside as you were surrounded by your husband's clothes in your lovely nest. Your mind was lost in a daze as you could smell his scent flowing around you, leading you to fuck yourself in bliss. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as you imagined his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, and his breath on your skin. You moan softly, feeling the intensity building up inside you. The fantasy of him being there with you pushed you over the edge, bringing you to a shuddering climax that left you breathless. But you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. You kept pumping yourself, imagining how he would do it.
How did we come to get to this point? How did this even happen? Well…
"Two weeks," you question.
Your husband nods his head as he adds, "Yes, two weeks."
A two-week business trip alone here in your home. You knew that your husband would be taking an upcoming business trip, but you didn't know it would be this long. You anticipated a few days at most, not the entire two weeks. The thought of being alone in the house for that long makes you feel a bit anxious and lonely as you pout.
"I know that look. You're pouting," Seungcheol said with a teasing smile.
In denial, you softly argue, "I'm not pouting; I'm just... not used to you being away for so long," you reply, trying to mask your disappointment. Seungcheol chuckles, knowing how much you will miss him. He then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. As I breathed in his scent of cherry and sandalwood, "It will be alright. I promise to call you every day and make it up to you when I get back," he reassured you, kissing your forehead.
You knew he was right, but what to do in a house by yourself? You and your husband have always been together. You were first college sweethearts, meeting each other through a mutual friend. Then, the moment you both graduated, he gave the sweetest proposal, and you've been inseparable ever since. But after three years of marriage, this will be the longest he has ever been away. You can't help but feel anxious about being apart for so long, but you have to make the most of it. Maybe you can hang out with your friends more often, or take Kkuma to that park she likes to go to. Perhaps you can finally finish that project you've been putting off. The possibilities are endless. He finished packing his luggage for this journey, and after he was done, you both walked to the door. You could hear tiny steps coming behind you as Kkuma followed closely. You both stopped at the entrance doorway as Kkuma sat there below your feet, looking up with those big eyes. Your husband kneeled down to pet her and show her lots of affection.
"Kkuma. Be a good girl, princess, while Daddy is away. Make sure to look out and take care of Mommy," Seungcheol cooed as he ruffled her hair, trying not to ruin the cute pink bow he placed on her head. He stood up from his kneeling position, and he turned to you, still pouting.
"You promise to call," you assert, looking up at him. Seungcheol smiled down at you, his eyes filled with love and reassurance. "Of course, I promise," he replied before kissing you.
"Don't worry, I will be back before you know it," Seungcheol assured you with a smile, grabbing your face and pecking your lips.
That was nine days ago. And now, here you are, sitting on your shared bed, surrounded by his clothes. In heat. Trying to relieve yourself before your husband returns. The first day without him was fine. You got your daily message from him, telling you how he misses you and sending you pictures, and you always responded. You even get to spend time with your friends. The second day went without a hitch as well. Then the third, then the fourth. But on the fifth day, you felt off. You sensed that something wasn't right. You felt tired. You didn't feel like yourself. You care less about eating or drinking and more about just lying down and resting. You tried to shake off the feeling, but it persisted. It was then that you realized that, you were about to go in heat. You didn't think it would happen so soon and on the day that your husband was gone. You gasp as your fingers pump inside you vigorously, the pleasure building as you give in to your body's desires. You came so many times, leaving the bed and your panties soaked with your release, but it wasn't enough. You need more. You crave for him. You need his touch. You need him.
"Cheolie," you whimper.
"Y/N," you heard.
You froze as you heard the voice you didn't expect to hear. You look up to see your husband staring there, wearing only casual clothes with a surprise on his face.
"C-Cheol. "W-What are you?"
"You're in heat, aren't you?" Seuncheol asked.
You didn't say anything, but your silence said it all for him. "My poor baby," he said as he stepped closer to you. He climbed into the bed toward you, his hand reaching out to gently touch your face.
"Left alone, all hot and bothered. Missing your Alpha so much that you made a nest out of all of his clothes. So much that you have to finger yourself just to feel a little relief. It must hurt, doesn't it?" Seungcheol said as his hand brushed through your hair.
Tears trickled down your cheeks as you nodded. "It hurts so much, Daddy," you said as you reached out, clutching his shirt. "P-Please," you begged.
Seungcheol shushed you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, baby girl. I'm here now, baby. Daddy's home. Daddy will take care of you," he whispered soothingly, kissing your head.
You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent, making your head spin. He pulled away to drape kisses across your face until they finally landed on your soft lips. You melted into the kiss as it became passionate and intense, completely losing yourself in the moment. You wrap your arm around him as he deepens the kiss, laying you down on the bed. The kiss became electrifying. His hands traced the curves of your body, causing you to gasp in pleasure, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth. His lips then traveled from your jaw to your neck. You couldn't help but lose yourself in the passion of his touch.
"My sweet girl," Seungcheol murmurs into your neck as he inhales your scent. Your sweet scent of (whatever scent you want it to be). He groans softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You were going crazy. Him. His touch. His scent was intoxicating. It was enough to make you go wild. You never wanted it to end.
"I've missed you so much," he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. His lips attacked your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking, which you were certain would leave a mark. You uttered a soft gasp, feeling a rush of desire and anticipation coursing through your body. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you even more.
"Miss you so much that I came back early to surprise my darling wife, and what do I see? You in heat, wearing my shirt, fingers inside that pretty pussy of yours, smelling so irresistible." He presses his lips against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your collarbone. He grabs h̶i̶s̶ your shirt, pulling it over your head, revealing your naked body underneath, just for him. "It's enough to send me into a rut," he whispers huskily.
His words made your pussy clench. God, do you need him? You reach out for him, grabbing his shirt. "Cheollie. Your shirt," you whine.
Seungcheol faintly chuckles. "What? What do you want?" he teasingly asks. You grab his shirt and pull on it. "I want it off," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.
Seungcheol obliged, removing his shirt and throwing the piece of clothing on the floor, not caring where it landed, revealing his well-toned chest and toned abs. Was this man gorgeous or what? You couldn't resist running your hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin.
"Like what you see, baby?" Seungcheol asked with a smirk, his eyes full of mischief.
You nodded eagerly, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, and you couldn't resist kissing him back. The kiss deepened.
His large hands cup your breasts, massaging them with care, and then he leans down to attach his lips to one of your nipples as he toys with the other. You arch your back in response, a soft moan escaping your lips as his touch sends shivers down your spine. He continues to suck and bite your sensitive flesh, making you squirm with pleasure as he repeats it to others.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close and feeling his cock pressing against the front of his pants, hard and ready for you. You gasped as you felt the fiction of him grinding against you. "Cheol," you whimper.
He looked up at you with a smirk. "Patient baby," he whispered before teasefully biting your nipple. You pouted. You want more. You need his lips. You need more. You need to feel him inside you. He releases your swollen nipple with a 'pop' before trailing kisses down your stomach to the waistband of your panties. You knew you were going to get exactly what you wanted. He hooked his finger on the waistband of your panties, pulling down slowly until they were completely off, revealing your wet core. You could hear a sudden, small curse fall from his lips as he saw how wet you were.
"Baby, you're dripping so much," Seungcheol murmured. You gasped as his fingers traced the outer edges of your folds. "How many times did you cum?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. You felt a surge of arousal at his words, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "So many," you admitted breathlessly.
Seungcheol softly chuckled at your cuteness. He lightly blew on your wet heat, causing you to shiver and whine. He then grabbed your thighs to place them on his shoulder, placing kisses along your inner thighs and making you shiver with anticipation. "Then allow me to make you cum some more," he whispered seductively as he trailed his lips up towards your core.
His tongue dips between your slick folds, eliciting a moan from your lips. "You taste so sweet," he growled before diving back in with fervor. The intensity of his actions sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you arch your back in ecstasy. His tongue traced from your dripping hole to your clit, as he sucked on the sensitive bud, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your hands grip his hair as he continues to expertly work his magic. "Please don't stop," you beg, desperate to reach the peak of ecstasy.
"Feels good," he murmurs. "So good," you whisper, feeling the tension building within you. He groaned against your core, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming sensation. If there's one thing that Seungcheol loves the most, it's pleasing you until you're a quivering mess of pleasure and desire. He could eat you all day if you let him. The way he makes you feel is unlike anything you've ever felt before, and you never want it to end. Seungcheol's skilled tongue continued to work its magic; you could hear the knot in your stomach tighten. You were close.
"I'm close," you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation as he brings you to the brink of release. He muttered, not even letting up, "Let go, baby."
His voice was low and husky, and his words sent a shiver down your spine as you finally let go, the intensity of your release washing over you in waves of pleasure. Seungcheol continued to please you, drinking everything you had to offer, his skilled tongue never faltering in its movements. As you came down from your high, he leaned up to your lips to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled away for a moment to pull on the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing length. Your mouth watered as he wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly stroked it. "You want it?" he asked, his voice husky.
You nod eagerly. "Beg for it," Seungcheol growls.
"P-please. Cheol," you begged, your voice filled with need and desperation.
"Please, what?" he titillated, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Please put it in, Daddy. I want to feel you. I want you inside me so bad. I want you to knot me up. I want you to fill me up completely with your cum," you whimpered. Your body ached for his touch, aching to be filled with pleasure.
"You want Alpha to cum inside? Want me to fill you up? Give you my knot. Fill you up so deep with cum until you are swollen with my babies? You want that, don't you?" He whispered seductively, his voice low and husky. You nodded eagerly. Just the thought of him breeding you and filling you with his cum just sent shivers down your spine. You want it so badly right now.
"Please, Alpha," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. The anticipation of feeling him inside you was almost unbearable. "What a good girl, asking so politely," he compliments.
His hands roamed over your body, teasing and tantalizing you as he positioned himself between your legs. With a smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "I'll give you everything you want, my sweet Omega."
With a low growl, he slowly pushed inside you, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He groans as the feel of your tightness envelopes him. "Fuck, you're so tight, princess," he murmurs.
As he began to move in a slow and steady rhythm, you felt every inch of him pulsating within you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. The sight below Seungcheol was so mesmerizing. Just seeing you writhing beneath him, your eyes fluttering and your lips parting in silent ecstasy, was enough to drive him wild with desire.
With each thrust, he could feel your body responding eagerly to his touch, igniting a fire within him that only grew stronger with each passing moment. His thrust began to pick up speed as your moans grew louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room with an intoxicating rhythm. "Alpha," you moan. Your voice is filled with desire and need. You are in ecstasy right now.
Seungcheol's name on your lips only fueled his passion further, pushing him to give you everything you craved. As he continued to move inside you, the intensity of your connection soared to unforseen levels, rendering both of you breathless and lost in the moment. The two of you were intoxicated by each other.
He lifts your legs to place them on his shoulder, deepening the penetration and intensifying the pleasure. The change in angle allowed him to hit all the right spots. "T-There," you utter. "There?" he reiterates, his voice husky with desire. "Yes, right there," you moan as he hits that sweet spot inside you, making your body tremble with pleasure. He chuckles slightly as he repeatedly hits that spot, causing you to lose control of your senses. Your hands grip the sheets tightly as your hips move in perfect sync with his thrusts, the sensation becoming more intense with each movement. The way your moan was mixed with the squelching sound of your wet cunt was music to his ears.
He paused his movement to pull out, leaving you to whimper in protest. He lifts you up and changes positions. His back presses against the headboard, and you now sitting on his lap. Holding your body in place, he lines his cock up with your entrance and slowly enters you again, filling you. Your body takes over, and you ride him with wild abandon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. "That's it. Good girl," he mutters as his eyes roll back, biting his lips.
Your moan mingles with his groans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoes through the air, heightening the intensity of the moment. His hips thrust upward, meeting yours in the middle, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts deeper and harder. "Alpha," you whine.
With his half-lid eyes, he saw the pure ecstasy on your face. Drinking in your fuck-out expression and my god, you look beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. There were so many words he could use to call you right now. But right now, at this moment, you were the most exquisite sight he had ever seen. You were everything that he had dreamed of, and so much more. And he could fall in love with you again and again and again.
Your bounces become more urgent, and your breath comes in short gasps. "So good. So deep," you whisper breathlessly. "You like that. You like your Alpha cock deep inside you, don't you?" His words send a shiver down your spine as you nod eagerly, unable to form a coherent response. His eyes lock with yours. He leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers as he continues to move inside you with a relentless rhythm. The kiss deepens as his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him.
Seungcheol's hand reaches between your bodies as his thumb finds its way to your clit, rubbing small circles that push you closer to the edge. You moan at his touch. Pulling away from the kiss, your gaze is locked on his half-lidded gaze, a gaze full of desire and intensity. You felt the coils in your stomach tighten as the pleasure built, and your body was on the brink of ecstasy. You were close, and he knew it. His lips twitch into an amusing smirk, the corners crinkling with amusement. "That's my girl. Such a good girl for me, riding me so beautifully. Are you close, baby," he whispers huskily.
"I'm close. So close, Cheol," you gasp out as your climax approaches. Seungcheol's movements become more urgent as he whispers in your ear, "Let go for me, princess. Let me feel you come apart around me."
As you cry out his name and finally reach your peak, "That's it, baby. Let's go. You're so beautiful when you cum," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as you ride out the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your body trembles in his arms. Your cunt clenches around him as he continues to move inside you, prolonging your ecstasy. "Fuck!"
Seungcheol groans at the feel of your walls pulsating around him. Seungcheol holds your body close, flipping you back into your previous position, laying you on your back. His hand grips your hips tightly as he pounds into you relentlessly, his own desire evident in his intense gaze. You arch your back in response, reacting to his movements with equal fervor, surrendering completely to the pleasure he bestows on you. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mixed with your moans and his grunts. Seungcheol's pace became more erratic as he chased his own release, his movements becoming more desperate and erratic.
"Fuck. Are you ready for Alpha knot?" he growls, his voice low and husky with need. You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as he finally locks you in place with a deep, primal thrust. His knot thickens and swells, filling you as you cry out in ecstasy. In that moment, you are overwhelmed by the feeling of being claimed by your Alpha, and you can't help but surrender to the primal pleasure coursing through you. His primal growl, his fast, aggressive pace, and the feel of his knot locking inside you send you over the edge, bringing you closer to another orgasm. His breath ragged against your ear as you clung to him desperately.
"C-Cheol," you begged, your voice filled with desperation and desire. You feel his body tense up as he releases it inside you, filling you with his warmth. The sensation of his release triggers your own, sending you both into a state of blissful ecstasy. You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of being claimed by your Alpha. Your bodies were entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and heavy breathing, totally exhausted by the raw intensity. The room is filled with the scent of sweat and sex.
Seungcheol waited for his knot to swell down before he could pull out and collapse next to you, completely depleted. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tender embrace. Pushing your hair to the side. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. His hand caresses your waist gently. You nodded. "I'm fine."
Seungcheol smiled, relieved to hear your response. He placed a kiss on your forehead. You were so happy to see him. If this was ever a dream, you never wanted to wake up. Your husband is home. Early... Wait. Why is he back here so early?
"Wait. You came back so early. I thought-."
"Ah," Seungcheol interrupted. "We ended up finishing up early, and instead of me staying for the next few days, I decided to go home. I wanted to call you to let you know, but I wanted to surprise you. Turns out you surprised me," he chuckled.
Oh, so that's why. You didn't expect him to come back early, nor were you expecting your heat to come either. But you were glad. "Welcome back home. I'm glad you're back," you replied, grateful for his presence. Seungcheol thanked you, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips.
"I'm glad too. I felt awful leaving you here on your own without anyone. So I was thinking, " Seungcheol started. Your eyes turn to him, curious about what he is going to say next. His hand grabs your hand, twirling around your wedding band on your finger before he places a kiss on the back of your hand. He looked into your eyes and finally said what he wanted to say.
"I was thinking, and I know we have talked about this so much, but why don't we start trying for a baby? I think we are ready to take that big step," he said, looking at you with a hopeful expression.
His sudden suggestion stunned you. A baby. A baby with Seungcheol. This. This was a huge decision. And you know you both talked about it during your marriage and said that you both would give it some thought. But now, faced with the reality, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of such a life-changing decision. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, before responding to Seungcheol's proposal.
"Now before you answer, if you don't want to, I won't force you, and I will wait as long as you want. Whatever you decide, I will respect it. But just know that I love you so much, and I want to take that next step with you in our marriage. I want to be the father of our children. Plus, I think Kkuma will love having siblings to play with," he added.
You giggled at his last response. Deep down, you knew that you had always dreamed of starting a family with him. From the moment you said, 'I do', you knew he was the one you wanted to share your life with and raise a family with. And this. This new chapter of having a baby together would be the perfect step. "I love you too, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," you finally said, feeling the weight of his words sink in. "Let's start planning for our family together," you joyfully say.
Seungcheol smiled back at you, his eyes shining with joy as he held your cheek, placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and then placed a few more. He smiled softly at you, looking into your eyes, before flipping you over on your stomach on all fours, causing you to squeal. "C-Cheol," you say.
"What? You didn't think this was over?" Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. You could feel his lips tracing kisses across your back. His lips trace up your back, making you shiver, and you cry out in protest.
"B-But. Shouldn't we take a break? You just returned from your trip," you mentioned between breaths.
Seungcheol just chuckled and disregardingly ignored what you had just said. His hands roam your body as he leans over, his chest pressing against your back.
"We both know your heat doesn't end there. If we want that baby, we need to keep going. I did promise I would make it up to you, and I intend to keep my word," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
His hand grabs your face, turning you to look at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"We got all night, baby, and I want… No, I NEED to make sure you're nice, full, and swollen with my baby. And Daddy will make sure that happens," Seungcheol whispered with a devilish grin.
You softly moan in response, feeling a rush of desire and anticipation. Seungcheol's lips curled into a knowing smile before he pressed them against yours, sealing the unspoken agreement between you. It was then that you realized that the night was far from over.
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yoichiris · 2 years ago
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better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader
✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication
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"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."
you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.
"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.
you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.
"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"
you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."
"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."
"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.
"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.
you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.
of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.
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"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"
he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.
"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.
he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.
it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.
you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.
it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.
"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.
your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.
"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"
"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.
he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.
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"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.
you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.
"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."
"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?
you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.
it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.
"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?
reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"
and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.
"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."
reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."
"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.
"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"
you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.
you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.
"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.
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you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.
there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.
"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."
it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."
well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.
you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.
"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.
he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.
you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.
"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."
"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.
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you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.
he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.
it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.
waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.
it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.
you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.
"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."
you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."
he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.
"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.
traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."
"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.
there's another silence. what else can you say?
"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."
but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.
"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."
"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.
you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"
"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."
but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.
"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."
"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.
"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."
"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.
your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.
"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"
you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.
"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.
but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.
"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."
you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.
"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."
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you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.
"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."
he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.
"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."
you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.
"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."
he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."
you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.
as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.
"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."
you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."
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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 4 months ago
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You look like a fun place to sit.
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Gif credits
Pairing: Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader
Words count: 2667
Rating: + 18, MDNI
Summary: You decide to enjoy a night at the movies, your neighbor Frankie ruins it all. Or maybe not?
Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, fluff, sort of romcom vibes (?), smut, enemies to lovers, age unspecified but they are both full grown adults, Frankie is annoying but also cute and lovely and fucking gorgeous, reader has hair, breasts and vagina, other than that no other description of her is given, fingering (f receiving), sexual acts in public places (again? Again. I'm not even particularly interested in doing that irl I don't know what to say to you, please forgive me), pet names (honey, baby, princess), arguing, kissing, no use of Spanish because I terribly suck at it and I don't want to butcher another language LOL. If by chance I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.
It’s my first Frankie ff and I’m so incredibly nervous to post it you all! I really hope it doesn’t sucks because I had so much fun writing it today in one sitting ‘cause I’m just an impulsive impatient mess. (Leo sun and Aries moon, what do you expect from me if not chaos? I had nothing a few hours ago, I even skipped WIP Wednesday and btw thanks for the tag @almostempty 🩷)
Title comes from a gif of Karen Walker from Will and Grace that I saw last night, it made me laugh a lot and this thing was born LOL
As usual, English is not my first language so please be gentle, no beta and no proofreading, it’s tiny and it’s all my fault, I’m sorry 💀 Thanks to anyone who will read this!
Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️
“Excuse me, you should stand up, that’s my seat” 
Frankie turns, looking at you with a surprised expression “I don’t think so, you’re wrong” he replies. 
Ugh, your neighbor.
Frankie lives two houses away from you. Last winter you had a fight at a neighborhood meeting because you pointed out that he keeps forgetting to put the recycling bins back in, and he told you to mind your own business and called you an hysterical witch.
A stupid fight that ended up with you not saying hello to each other and various other arguments about your flashy Christmas lights or his overgrown yard. You and Frankie fight constantly, about everything. And now he's here.
You glare at him “I’m not wrong at all, look” and you wave your ticket under his nose “P10, see? It’s my seat and you’re rude”. 
A grin spreads across his face “listen, honey, I don’t know where you got this ticket, you probably made it yourself, I bought it a moment ago and it’s the same seat” 
He takes a card out of his pocket and hands it to you, remaining comfortably seated with a large popcorn box. 
You look at the ticket, him again, the ticket again “how the hell is that possible?! I booked it on their website a week ago” 
He sneers “I told you! It must be a system error, I don’t know, I’m not getting up from here”
You are furious. The theater is filling up and you absolutely don’t want to leave, you have been waiting for this movie for months and you have inspected the theater map choosing a seat that would guarantee you the very best view.
“I bought it first, so I have more right to be here than you do,” you say firmly and Frankie laughs. 
“Where are we, elementary school? Listen, honey, go buy yourself another ticket and leave me alone.” He replies crunching on popcorn.
The way he calls you “honey” irritates you deeply, it sounds like an insult.
“I’m not going anywhere, YOU get the fuck out of here” you hiss. 
“No” he simply replies and then he turns back at the screen pretending you’re not there. 
“Truly a gentleman, as usual. I have no words.” you roll your eyes and search for an usher to ask for help. No one is there. 
The movie starts in 5 minutes and you don’t want to miss anything you paid for. If you went to the box office right now to complain it would take forever to get back in. 
“Fuck” you exclaim and sit down next to him huffing. You are sure that someone will make you get up very early and it pisses you off.
Frankie continues to nibble on his popcorn and looks at you with an extremely amused expression, it seems like the show has become you.
“Why do you care so much about this movie anyway?” he asks you. “Does any of your relatives happen to be in it?“ 
You’re fuming. 
His teasing tone, his vaguely Spanish accent, his smirk, the sound of him chewing, everything bothers you.
“No. Shut the fuck up” you tell him with a death stare. 
You won’t tell him that your favorite actor stars in it, that you have every photo from the set of this movie saved on your phone, that you’ve read every article about it, and that you couldn’t wait to enjoy it on the first day of screening.
You can already hear his raucous laughter. No, you would never tell Frankie anything like that.
“You're not one of that guy's crazy fans, are you?” 
“What guy?” you ask him, pretending not to know what he's talking about. “Gladiator is one of my favorite movies, that's all. I just wanted to watch the sequel in peace. Someone is stopping me, though” 
“That guy, I bet you like him, what’s his name? Paul Pascal?” he stares at you searching for every little involuntary movement on your face that might give you away. 
“Oh for God’s sake, what are you doing here anyway? Do you even know what you're about to see? They are Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, two different people, you uncultered swine.” You yell. This guy is impossible.
“Yeah, whatever, so which one do you fancy?”
“Fucking nobody” you lie “I just want to watch a movie after a horrible week at work, okay?” You try to play on his guilt. If he has one, you think.
“Well, I've had a rough week too, okay?” he shrugs without stopping to give you that annoying little smile. “And it's not my fault that this theater is having problems with its computer system.”
You glance at him, wondering if he's telling the truth, it's impossible to guess from his face.
People keep sitting in the front rows and you start hoping that luck will be on your side and that no one will make you get up.
“Okay, look, now we're going to watch this movie and then we'll go our separate ways, please don't bother me anymore"
“As you wish, princess” he replies ironically.
You don't even answer him, you're too busy checking that no other people come in.
Finally the opening credits start to roll and the doors close with a dull thud.
You made it, despite this unbearable guy, you feel victorious.
You begin to relax in your chair and you don't know why you turn to look at him, lingering on his face for the first time in months.
His eyes are fixed on the screen. In the dim light you observe his raven curly hair tucked under his baseball cap, his dark eyes, the line of his prominent nose, his scruffy beard, his mustache, just above a pair of lips that seem made for kissing.
Really, truly, gorgeous.
You're so busy arguing with him all the time that you never realized how handsome he is.
He's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you can’t help but admire the way the fabrics hug his body so deliciously. 
He’s just your type, built up in all the right ways, you find yourself unable to take your eyes off him until the last second. Then the movie starts and you look away.
He’s still your number one enemy, what the hell were you thinking?
When Pedro first appears, you shift in your seat, crossing your legs.
“FUCK” you scream internally “here we go”
Unbelievably stunning in his armor, you’re basically drooling. 
You try to stay as composed as possible but Frankie is next to you and notices.
He comes closer to you and whispers in your ear “So it was all about this guy… the fuss before” You feel one of his large hand brushing your arm that is resting on the armchair and you try with all your strength to remain still even if he causes a storm inside you and especially in your panties. 
“Shut. Up.” You hiss, without moving your gaze. You feel his breath on your skin and it’s intoxicating. 
He chuckles “Yeah, that was I was thinking” and throws another popcorn into his mouth.
Your cheeks burn and you're thankful you're in the cinema, in the dark.
“What’s so special about this guy?” Frankie approaches again “is his penis platinum by any chance? All my female colleagues at work are crazy about him”
You turn to look at him with the desire to slap him “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” 
“Okay, okay, I was just asking”
You hate people talking at the movies. You wonder if you could have a more annoying guy than Frankie next to you. Probably. 
Hotter? Probably not.
This dude hits on your last nerve but he makes you horny at the same time. 
Terrible combination. 
Frankie settles back into his seat and resumes watching the film.
You can't help but look at him from time to time and your desire grows. even if you're offended that he didn't even offer you his popcorn. Rude. 
His mouth pouted and his eyebrows furrowed as he seems all focused on the movie makes you want to cup his face and kiss him.
You can still feel the warmth of his hand on your arm and his breath on your neck.
Concentrate, you tell yourself, it's the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate. Fuck. You want him so bad. This revelation drives you crazier than Pedro half naked on screen.
At a particularly bloody scene you involuntarily turn around and hide your face on his shoulder.
You feel his arm around you “hey, it’s okay. I’ll tell you when it’s over” and he holds you tight the whole time.
He smells clean and fresh, like citrus and sage with a light hint of cigarette that you assume he smoked right before entering. 
Your mind goes fuzzy and your pulse races at an impossibly high rate. 
“You can look now” and it takes you a few seconds too long to register his words. 
“Th-Thanks” you mutter, shifting back to your place. 
Halfway through the movie the lights come back on and Frankie bursts out laughing looking at you. “What?” you ask him with wide eyes “what is it that makes you laugh so much?”
“Your face” he grins “it's clearly painted on it how much you want that guy. He turns you on, huh?”
You roll your eyes “Oh my God! Can't you go sit somewhere else? Two rows down, look how many free seats there are”
“I like it better here” 
You cuss, there’s no way to get rid of him.
He has something magnetic that destabilizes you, your eyes fall involuntarily on his neck, slide along his broad chest and stop at the crotch of his pants. From the way he sits you can clearly see that he is quite big.
“What are you looking at?” he asks you amusedly. 
You immediately look up. “Nothing” 
“Nothing my ass. Did you like what you saw?” 
Fuck. He noticed. You're done for. You hate to make him understand that after all, yes, you like what you saw. He seems pleased, proud, you would so much like to wipe that little smile off his face. As much as you struggle to admit it to yourself, you like him.
“Well, maybe…after all, you look like a fun place to sit” 
You can't believe you actually said that.
Frankie's response is not long in coming, his eyes immediately darken and his smile twists in a mischievous way.
The lights go out again and you feel him tug gently on your arm “come here, pretty”
He sits you down on his lap and as the movie starts again he whispers “was that what you wanted the whole time? Were you offended that I didn’t invite you?” you can clearly feel his smile spread across your skin just before he places his lips on your neck.
You would like to say something back but his closeness makes you confused and excited.
He sucks your skin like he's hungry and you moan in the dark "shh baby you gotta stay quiet while I give you what you want”
You don't know how but you find the strength to reply, "God, you're so arrogant.”
He tightens his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him, now you are practically sitting on his cock. You feel it pressing against your ass, trapped in his pants.
A rush of pleasure wets your pussy and you bite your lips to hold back another moan, you hear his hoarse voice in your ear “Maybe. You like it though” You hate to admit that he is right. 
The heat of his body envelops you pleasantly, he raises a hand to one of your breasts and squeezes it over your shirt. You like his hands. They are big, expert and eager to touch you, they make your head spin. 
You completely forgot about the movie, which seemed impossible to you, if they had told you you would have laughed in their face. In no universe would you have expected this.
“God” you whine “oh my God” His hand slides under your shirt and reveals your breast pulling down your bra, it is still covered but now you can feel his skin against yours. His fingers gently grasp one of your nipples, pulling and twisting it.
“Open your eyes, baby. Watch the movie like a good girl” his voice sounds authoritative, it irritates you and another rush of pleasure floods you at the same time.
“It’s not that easy” you mutter between your teeth as you feel his other hand dangerously approaching the hem of your skirt. He slowly goes up, as you try to hold back and make sure no one notices what he’s doing to you. Luckily, everyone seems enthralled by the film.
At this moment you don't even know why you started arguing so fiercely, if you had known before you would have tried to smooth things over a long time ago.
His fingers reach your panties, you feel them barely touching you and you already feel yourself burning with anticipation.
They move under your skirt, pushing your panties aside, grazing at your outer lips and then dipping inside you “Fuck, you’re soaking” 
He moves them up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit.
You feel his heavy breathing on your neck, his tongue running over your skin and his teeth nibbling on you.
“Fuck, Frankie” you cry 
“Eyes to the movie”
You want to turn around and straddle him but there isn't enough room and Frankie holds you firmly anyway.
He applies pressure on your clit just right, starting to move two of his thick fingers in circle over it, the motion of his hand is partially hidden by the fabric of your skirt and your moans die in your throat one after the other. Frankie is rubbing away your sanity, you feel possessed and delirious under his touch.
Your last shred of control is torn by his fingers entering inside you, claiming your cunt as his, curling and scratching at your spongy spot.
Your eyes are still fixed on the screen but your vision is totally blurred, you see nothing, you understand nothing, you only feel Frankie pumping incessantly inside you while continuing to rub your clit with his thumb.
You feel the soft reverberation of his voice behind you, close to your ear “good girl, you're taking me so well”
The subtle Spanish accent in his voice now seems to you the most erotic sound in the world, sweet, melodious, addictive.
He takes you to the edge, you throw your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes so everything goes black and you only feel him, until even biting your lips doesn't help anymore. He covers your mouth with his hand as you explode in a devastating orgasm, you moan against his skin, between his thick fingers that have just left your breast and you already miss them, feeling full and satiated by him.
He uncovers your mouth and kisses your neck, pressing his hand to your hip to keep you from slipping off his lap as your body trembles against his.
“Shit” you mutter “Frankie…oh my god”
“Do you think we can stop arguing all the time now?” He playfully says as he nuzzles at your hair.
“I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked, you know, I’m just like that” you reply, grinning and turning around to finally fix your eyes on his. 
“I noticed it”
You take off his cap laughing and put it on backwards and before he starts to protest you kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth, tasting butter and salt on his tongue.
“Take me home”
“The movie isn't over yet,” Frankie observes, and you reply, “that means you'll have to take me to see it again and you’ll pay”
“Fine to me, princess” 
367 notes · View notes
akxmee · 7 months ago
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𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌//𝘑𝘑𝘒 𝘉𝘖𝘠𝘚
Your relationship was perfect, so why?
Satoru gojo, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento.
𝘚𝘈𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘜 𝘎𝘖𝘑𝘖
: 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘.
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If someone asked Satoru who his first priority was, you would be his answer.
Because that's what sounds right, isn't it? But no, deep inside you were anything but that. Satoru never considered you his top priority even though you were his girlfriend, the world was above you. Don't get him wrong; it's not like he didn't love you, it was just that his responsability as the strongest came first.
And you knew it.
You knew he would never choose you over his work, as much as he claimed that he was bored of it or how many times he slacked out of it. It was something he was chained to and he wasn't even aware of it, but you were.
So naturally, this was the main factor you two didn't really work. That's the reason you were driving your car right now, clutching on the steering wheel while being on your phone with Satoru.
—So you're literally telling me to go back right now?
—Yeah, sorry babe. I'll make it u-
—Don't you dare say you'll make it up to me, Satoru. It's our fucking anniversary, and you're going to miss it again?
Silence filled the air, you didn't hear a reply coming from your phone. You knew you hit a nerve there, because he did miss your anniversary last year too for the same fucking reason: some stupid, dammed mission that wasn't even that important. You heard a sigh, and he talked again in a softer voice.
—Y/N, you know this is my duty as the strongest..
—This is also your duty as a boyfriend, or did you forget?
—Please babe, you know the world needs me right now the most.
—I need you too, Toru.
It came out of you in a tone needier than I should be, you were desperate at this point. You had planned everything so nice for your three years anniversary; your cute elegant outfit that matched the blue of his eyes in such a sotisficate way, the place where you two would have dinner since you wanted to make it perfect..hell, you even planned to be the one picking him up since it was all a surprise! All he had to do is put a damn suit and spend the day with you, and he wasn't able to do that because of some guard thing. He has his right to be busy, yeah, but isn't he always? You would even understand if it was something urgent like a major threat curse, but it was some casual guard around Shibuya.
—I know you do, honey. I understand, but..
—But the world is more important, isn't it?
He kept silence, and then you knew again.
It has always been, so where's the surprise? You should've known better.
—I'm so, so sorry. I'll try to make time for next week, maybe?
—We make three years tonight, not next week.
—I know, i'm sorry.
—You're always sorry, Satoru! But you never show it. You were sorry last year too, and you're just going to do It again!
At this point your whole makeup was ruined by tears, but you still kept your cool as far as you could. You even managed to park your car at some parking lot you found on your way since driving while being distracted was pretty dangerous, and your blurry vision could mess you up while being on the road.
He sighed once again.
—Y/N, let's just talk it out. I'm sure we can agree on som-
—No, Satoru. I won't humiliate myself once again trying to make it work out all by myself. This is it; me or that mission of yours. You choose me, i let it pass and pick you up from whenever you go to get to our anniversary date.
You take a deep breath before continuing.
—You choose the mission, you don't call me again expecting another date. You don't even dare to call me again because i will block you, we're just done.
An uncomfortable silence appears, you can feel the tension even if it's just by the phone.
On the other line, Satoru bites his lip thinking what he should even do. He thinks and thinks, considering wether he should choose. The world was his responsability, but so was his relationship with you too. He knew how much you suffered everytime he left for a long period of time, and he didn't wish for you to suffer because of him and his work again. However his duty was also important, being the strongest and all. This job had him tied up and he couldn't leave it for you even if he desired so.
But as hard as this decision was, he had to make it.
So he finally chose.
—Okay, princess. I'm at shibuya's station, come and pick me up please?
He smiled sweetly at his phone.
Yeah, he did the right thing. You were worth the sacrifice and he knew you would be happy to hear it.
So, why weren't you replying?
Fuck.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP..
He tried to call you again, and again, and again.
You had blocked him by then.
𝘛𝘖𝘑𝘐 𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘜𝘙𝘖:
𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄.
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It all started by small mistakes, like this morning when you approached him while he was cooking. You hugged him from behind as he cooked breakfast for you and your little Megumi, who you loved as if he was your biological son.
—Hey hon. What are you making?
He looked at you over his shoulder, leaning in a bit and kissing your temple as a greeting before replying.
—Your favorite, scrambled eggs.
You paused for a second, wondering if you heard right.
—Sorry, what?
He looked at you weird as if he didn't understand where your confusion came from before repeating.
—Scrambled eggs.
—That's not mom's favorite, dad! I know it, she prefers them fried.
You hear Megumi from the kitchen table, and he inmediately smiles at you when he feels you look at him as he was proud of his answer. You nod your head at the kid.
—That's right sweetie. Mom's glad you remembered, unlike someone I know...
You joked, emphasizing the "someone" in your sentence. Megumi laughed and so did you.
However, he didn't laugh.
Instead, he simply put the scrambled eggs in his plate and put a new egg on the frying pan.
—Well, then fried eggs it is.
You thought nothing of it back then, until later on you found out a photo of toji and his ex wife having breakfast on a restaurant while you were looking for a shirt to borrow in his drawer. You looked at it closely, so close that you even looked at what they were having out of pure curiosity. Want to know what was in her plate? Scrambled eggs.
Now, the confusion had more sense.
It wasn't a mistake, he just did it again.
Once again, he reflected his wife in you.
This has happened more than once, him pretending you were his late wife just because he missed her. At first you didn't mind, he was getting used to the married life and having another wife after losing his last one was hard enough for you to understand it and let it pass.
However, as time passed by it became more frequent.
From him simply calling you nicknames like "Love" instead of "doll" or mistaking your clothes size with hers to things like confusing your hobbies, favorite movies and memories with hers. He recalled moments you didn't even spend with him that you later on figured that were with his ex wife, and Megumi was the one that usually had to correct him when he did so.
It was tiring, and it was driving you insane.
It made you insecure knowing that every time he saw you, his mind reflected the image of his deceased wife in his eyes. How many times have you thought about her while he held your hand, while he kissed you or while he held you? To him, were you Y/N or were you someone who really resembled her? He liked you because you were you, or because she was like you too? You didn't know, and you didn't want to.
So after thinking about it for what felt like an eternity and watching it happen again and again, you decided to leave. It wasn't healthy for you anymore, this lifestyle was only hurting you all over.
This had to end.
—You're going to leave dad, aren't you?
No way.
You looked behind you, finding Megumi at your door at the verge of tears. He started sobbing silently when he didn't hear a reply from you, rushing to hug your leg.
—Mom, please, d-don't go. I'll talk to daddy, I promise! We will make fried eggs tomorrow too. He will remember this time..
It sincerely broke your heart how tightly he clung to your leg. His hands were trembling and you felt the need to comfort him, so you grabbed him by his shoulders and crouched down.
Then, you spoke softly.
—It's okay, Megs. Mommy is not leaving, I'm just packing my things because i have to go on a business trip in a few days. You understand, right?
He looked at you as he sobbed, and you wiped his tears with your sleeve.
—So you won't leave me and dad?
—Yes, I won't. Mommy has a little something to do, but we can have fried eggs tomorrow.
He looked calmer, but he still looked at you worried. You could tell he was still scared.
—Mom..
He pulled on your tear stained sleeve.
—Yes, sweetie?
—Could you...—He looked down, shy to ask.— ..read me a book tonight?
You looked at him in awe, it has been so long since you read him a book since he claimed that he was a big boy now and didn't need it anymore. Yet, he was asking for you to do it again.
You looked at your bags and sighed.
—Yeah, why not.
And you did, you accompanied him to his room and tucked him in before grabbing a random book from the shelf to read. He struggled to stay awake throughout the story and managed to do so despite how sleepy he was, You could tell how he was still a little unsure that you weren't going to leave. So before you put the book back and kissed the boy goodnight, he asked if you could sleep with him that night. You hesitated but said yes, and he made space for you to fit in his bed while you two hugged eachother to sleep. He was calmer and happy now that you were laying with him since that meant you wouldn't leave, at least not for tonight if he stayed awake. That was his plan: staying awake the whole night to check if you were planning to leave or not. You wouldn't like it if he catched you, but he figured it was for the best. He smiled and snuggled with you, he won't let you go.
But his plan failed, he fell asleep.
And when he woke up, you where nowhere to be found.
𝘕𝘈𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘐 𝘒𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘖:
𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌.
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Nanami loved you to the core, he was so sure of it.
You were the one he wanted to marry, you were the one he wanted to have kids with and he wanted to be the one you call "husband". As simple as that, he just wanted to have a future with you in it. He wouldn't have dated you if he wasn't sure of it, he was a determined man after all.
It took you so long to make him fall in love with you, but you managed to do so. You dug into his heart and reached places in him that he didn't even know he had in such a small place. You took over his heart and became the main focus of his mind, occupying all his thoughts throughout the day until he managed to see you when he came back home. You did little things for him every day that made him fall more in love with you every day, and he loved that.
Until you stopped.
It wasn't immediate, but little by little you began to distance yourself from him and stop trying to make him fall in love with you even more as you always used to do. The funny compliments without any context stopped being present in every conversation, your handmade gifts for when you got home such as cards or matching bracelets stopped appearing and time together It began to decrease more and more.
And he noticed that.
And he missed it, missed them so much. He did because he loved you so much, and he felt like he was losing you. He thought that maybe you were going through a bad time, that maybe you were angry with him, but every time he asked you you always answered him in such a sweet and kind tone that he knew immediately it wasn't something he did. Because he knew you, and he knew that the reason was something deeper than that.
He loved you so much that even when he looked at you right now, crying in front on him, he could only think about one thing: you're beautiful.
—How did you know, Kento?
He smiled at you, holding your hand and wiping your tears away. Nanami simply shrugged.
—I just felt that tension between the two of us. We weren't in love, not anymore.
—Yeah, i felt it too. I was just...worried of hurting you, because I had this feeling that you still loved me.
His expression remained as it was before despite what he was feeling right now. If only you knew how wrong you were to think that it wasn't true, that he didn't love you. He did love you, he loves you so much he wants to keep you all by himself and force you to love him again. He loves you so much he wants to cry hearing you confess to him that you fell out of love even if he already knew it.
He loves you so much he's letting you go.
—..but I'm glad you're the one who proposed the breakup. Otherwise, we would be still stuck in a no feelings relationship.
He finished wiping your tears and slowly moved his hand away, as if he was holding back the urge to touch you again.
—If you're glad then, why do you cry?
He asks you, genuinely curious. He was the one that wanted to bawl his eyes out, seeing the love of his life reach for the door to leave him and never come back again. However, you looked back again and shrugged at him like he did to you just a moment ago.
—I'm just sad that this is how we end. After 4 years of dating I... I just felt that you were the one I was going to marry one day.—You looked back at the door, opening it.—So I guess it's just younger Y/N lamenting the end of this relationship.
—Yeah, I understand what you mean.
You gave him a sad smile.
—I.. don't regret dating you at all, Kento. Just hope you know that.
He nodded, you took that as your sign to go.
—Goodbye, Nanami.
—Goodbye, Y/N.—He took a deep breath, whispering something.—..I love you.
But you already closed the door.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: nanami's was so short, but i swear i couldn't make this man suffer anymore he's just too good 😩 anyways, hope you enjoyed this angst! 💕
KAM'S MASTERLIST.
582 notes · View notes
kittykattysstuff · 8 months ago
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When mom's away, it's time to play!
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Warning: Stepcest.
Stepdad!Toji x fem!Reader
WC: 2.2K
Summary: Your mother won't be home during the weekend due to a business trip. With her gone and the entire house to yourselves, you and your stepdad Toji get to know each other in more intimate ways.
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"Bye, dear. I'll be back Monday morning." Your mom gave you a kiss on the cheek as she left the house.
"Keep Toji some company, will you? This can be a great opportunity for you two to have some father-daughter bonding time."
She smiled, giving Toji a peck before she climbed into the driver's seat of her car. You gulped. Sometimes you wondered if your mother was either too oblivious to notice the furtive glances Toji threw your way whenever you were in the same room, or if she actually noticed them, and simply didn't care, confusing his inappropriate behavior for affection.
Well, it didn't matter what your mom thought. Her opinions wouldn't change the fact that you would be spending the whole weekend alone with Toji.
"Don't worry, love. I'm sure Y/N and I will have a lot of fun together."
You pretended not to notice the sexual innuendo behind your stepdad's words. God, this was going to be a long weekend. You and Toji waved as your mom started the car and drove away.
"Finally home alone. "Toji smirked, following you inside the house. You didn't need to turn to know he was shamelessly checking your ass. "Any plans for the weekend?"
He asked before you walked up the stairs to your room.
"Not really." You shrugged. You were more than ready to get this talk done and over with, but it seemed like Toji wouldn't let you off so easily.
"I intend to study for my upcoming exams."
That was a lie and Toji knew it. He knew you had already finished all your exams and didn't have any more classes until the next semester, since your mother had told him before you arrived from college at the beginning of the week.
"That's lame. Even Megumi's going to his friends' house. You should live a little, doll. How about we follow your mom's suggestion and have some father-daughter bonding?"
Toji's smile was so sweet, you could almost mistake him for an angel if you didn't know him. However, you did know him, and you knew that behind that sweet smile, were actually the most evil intentions. You felt yourself getting hot. You didn't want to admit it, but ever since you met Toji Fushiguro, you felt attracted to the man. His broad shoulders, thick thighs, and captivating emerald eyes made him look like a Greek god.
"Well, what do you have in mind?"
Against your better judgment, you indulged in his ideas.
"We could binge watch some of those rom-com movies that you like so much."
"You? Watching "girly" movies?" You asked, quoting the way he always complained about the films you and your mom liked to watch.
"Anything for you, doll."
Oh, you were definitely screwed. It took all your willpower not to jump him right then and there. Instead, you found yourself agreeing to his offer.
"Sure, why not."
Two hours later, the credits of "10 things I hate about you" appeared on the TV screen.
"This one wasn't so bad."
Your stepdad commented, stretching his huge arms, which were conveniently bare, given he was wearing a tight black tank top. You watched him put an arm on the back of the couch, getting dangerously close to you as he adjusted in a more comfortable position.
You were starting to seriously regret your choices today. You'd been doing a decent enough of a job trying to avoid Toji ever since he and your mom got married, almost one year ago. Because as soon as he stepped into your home in all his glory when they were still dating, two years ago, you knew you were in trouble.
The man was literally sex on legs, all your teenage dreams personified right in front of you, and the worst part is, he knew the effect he had on you. He knew it and he purposely took every chance he had to get closer to you; from accidental touches that started to linger more each time you both were in the same vicinity, to the hungry looks he sent you, not even trying to hide them.
You thought that once Toji and your mom got married, things would stop. But it was quite the opposite. Taking advantage of the fact you wouldn't be able to actively avoid him, since Toji and Megumi moved in with you and your mom after the wedding, Toji was everywhere. And he was driving you insane.
Your only solace was college. Your college was considerably far from your home, so as soon as you were accepted, you opted to live on campus rather than commute back home. The reprieve was great, especially because now you could be alone with your thoughts, without your step dad's presence everywhere you turned. If you didn't see nor think about Toji, then you were safe from the ever growing attraction between you.
However, now that the semester had finished and you wouldn't have classes for three weeks, your feelings were more and more difficult to ignore. Especially now that it was only the two of you in the house.
"What's next?"
Your step dad asked, though he didn't really seem interested in the answer whatsoever.
"Legally Blonde." You replied, selecting the next movie.
For the most part, things were going well. You were so concentrated on the film that you almost forgot about Toji's presence. That is, until his hand started to softly caress your shoulder. You held your breath as your step dad started rubbing circles on your skin delicately.
In hindsight, you know you should've stopped him instantly. But you were tired, Toji's touch was warm and honestly, you were craving some affection lately. So yeah, you let him touch you. After all, parents and their children touched all the time, that was normal, you rationalized. Except, there was nothing innocent in the way your step dad was getting closer to you.
His hand was now on your hips, massaging them expertly. You could feel his thigh pressed to yours. Before you noticed, a low moan fell from your lips. From your peripheral, you could see your step dad smirking.
"You're so far from me. Come closer, angel, I won't bite."
He didn't expect an answer from you, already pushing you to sit on his lap.
"This okay?"
Toji asked, his chin on your shoulder, his hot breath on your neck. You moaned again.
"Yes." You managed to say in a whisper.
"Y'know, this movie's getting boring, dontcha think?"
Toji said before sucking on your shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat.
"Toji, we shouldn't..."
"You don't know how long I've been waiting to touch you, doll."
Before you could protest, Toji captured your lips, giving you a bruising, passionate kiss. You opened your mouth, and he wasted no time to shove his tongue down your throat. He nibbled your lower lip with deliberate boldness, hearing a soft moan of pleasure in response, making his arousal sensually painful. As you kissed, Toji wanted to drink in your moans in sweet tremors of sinful pleasure.
Toji and you separated briefly, his sharp gaze locked on yours as you both struggled to regain you breath. Before things could get even more physical, he pressed his forehead to yours, inhaling deeply. You caressed his soft dak locks, reveling in the texture against your fingers. For a man as big as he was, Toji could be surprisingly endearing when he wanted to.
"Do you want this?" He finally asked, moving so that you'd be able to see each other in the dark room illuminated only by the dim light of the TV.
"If you say yes, I won't be able to hold back."
You knew that if you went further than this, there was no going back. You nodded, smiling. You had made your decision. You had wanted him for so long, you wouldn't miss the chance of having him all to yourself.
"I do, Toji. Fuck me."
"Damn. You're gonna drive me crazy."
Toji didn't waste time, ripping off your white buttoned shirt and your tight shorts to reveal your underwear.
"So perfect." He muttered as he unclasped your bra, immediately latching his mouth on your nipple, while he played with the other.
"All for me."
He said reverently, before sucking hardly, which elicited a gasp from you due to all the pleasure he was giving you. You kept your hands on his hair, in a tight grip. Toji's mouth and his finger kneading your tits felt magical.
"Yes, daddy, l'm all yours."
You didn't even notice what you had said until Toji stilled his movements, looking at you like a hawk. Instantly, you felt self-conscious, a blush on your cheeks as you mistook his sudden halt in his movements for rejection.
"Fuck."
Toji mumbled, licking his lips and watching you with a lust-filled gaze.
"Say that again."
Your shyness gave way to pure pleasure, the carnal desire consuming the two of you.
"Daddy."
You repeated, feeling his arousal as his dick twitched. Your step dad looked an animal, his expression was so filthy you almost came on the spot. He changed positions, laying you down on the couch, his firm, muscular chest pressing against your body.
You took his black tank top off, and kissed every inch of skin you could find. His shoulder blades, his abdomen, his chest, everywhere. Toji moaned, fueling you to continue.
"I know you're eager to play, baby, but I can't wait."
Toji took your hands off his body as gently as he could. Understanding what he meant, you moved your hands to his pants, ubuttoning his leather belt. Toji wriggled out of the fabric of clothing, throwing it away haphazardly. You could see the white patch of precum in his black boxers.
"I've dreamed about fucking your tight little pussy for so long, you've no idea."
Toji kept muttering as he got rid of the rest of yours and his underwear, the last remaining clothing between you two.
"Whenever I fuck your mom, I imagine you. I have to keep myself from moaning your name".
"Daddy, please, I need you."
"You want daddy's cock, little girl? Don't worry, daddy's gonna make you feel so good you won't want any other dick anymore."
"Yes, daddy, please, I need you so badly! Fuck, me daddy!"
Your stepdad kissed you again as he entered you without warning, giving you no time to adjust to his size. Toji sucked your mouth, bit your lips, swallowed your taste as if it were the last kiss he would give in his life. The kiss made you forget the slight discomfort you felt when he first penetrated you.
Toji buried himself to the hilt inside you, making you moan loudly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, so that he could reach even deeper.
"So tight. Perfect little pussy, was made for me."
"Only yours, daddy."
The position allowed him to explore all the curves of your body as he moved frenetically inside you. God, he was amazing. You couldn't fathom why you tried to resist your stepdad in the first place. Now that you had a taste, you would certainly become addicted.
You pressed your hands on his taut abdomen, feeling his strong chest, buffy arms and prominent collarbone. Holy shit, his body was a masterpiece. You moved in sync, lost in the pleasure of the skin to skin contact. Toji started rubbing his fingers over your clit, sending you over the edge.
"D-daddy, I'm close."
You mumbled, breathing heavily.
"Cum, baby. Let it all out for daddy."
You felt all the tension explode from your nerves, relaxing all your muscles at once and clouding your mind in the most genuine relieved ecstasy.
"Will you let daddy cum inside you baby?"
"Yes daddy, please! Cum inside me, need you!"
"Fuck!"
Your words made Toji cum inside you in full force, your insides creaming his cock deliciously. Toji pulled you to his side, letting you lay on top of him.
"That was amazing."
You smiled, turning your head and resting your chin on his chest. He smiled back at you, stroking your cheeks lovingly. You leaned on his touch, letting yourself enjoy this rare soft side of his, knowing that this could very well be the first and last time you two were so intimate.
"Well, I'm glad. Now stand up."
He urged you, leaning forward on his elbows and creating some distance between you. You tried to hide your disappointment with a fake smile. That was the problem. You held back so much because you knew that when you caved, you wouldn't wanna let him go. Swallowing, you reminded yourself that it was only natural. After all, he wasn't yours to begin with. He was your mother's. Putting on a brave face, you finally stood up, gathering your clothes and attempting to cover your body the best you could. Before you could stray too far, however, you felt a tug in your hand.
"What is it, Toji?"
You asked, feeling irritated. He told you to go, but still kept bothering you. Classic Toji.
"Hey, I thought it was daddy. And where do you think you're going? I was gonna ask you to take a bath. It's only the beginning of the weekend, darling, we still have lots of time for father-daughter bonding moments. And I intend to enjoy it as much as I can."
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landoscult · 22 days ago
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is it strange? | lando norris smau – #04
where lando and y/n didn't know how to make their long distance relationship work.
WARNINGS!!!
just angst stuff.
ps: it's my first time writing in years so im sorry if anything is wrong.
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, carlossainz55 and 648.497 others
landonorris Sorry team. Deserved more. I'll do you proud next week.
view all 7,996 comments
landofan LOOKINH HOT AF
landofan OMFG just read the caption im so sorry my love!!!!
landofan2 we're always proud of you, lando. great race, undeserved penalty.
landofan3 wasn't even your fault at all 🧡 you guys got it next week!
ynusername i love you 🧡
landofan4 kinda weird u say that when u are never there for him lol
landofan3 stfu??? she's probably busy with school
landofan4 and...? lot of wags study AND work and still have time to support their boyfriends 🤣
landofan5 OMG RIGHT!???! some of y'all just need to realize that she's a fake one
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liked by lilymhe, iamrebeccad, yourbff, landonorris and 56.927 others
yourusername life lately 💋
view all 126 comments
lilyzneimer looking good as always
yourbff i kinda love living live w u 💜💓🤎💖❤️
landofan and you'll still think that she is busy studying LMAO
landofan3 why would her post a photo studying...?
landofan6 they think that she's with him for fame but why she didn't drop school and become a full-time influencer then 😭😭
landofan3 RIGHT 😭😭 their nonsense theories are killing me
landonorris 🤎
landofan baby if u need help blink twice
landofan1 you deserved so much more 😭
landofan3 you guys should get a job and leave them alone
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liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, mclaren and 1mi others
landonorris PAPAYA ON TOP
view all 6.827 comments
landofan WORLD CHAMPION 🔜
maxfewtrell what a year brother, 2025 gonna be mint
lnfour LANDGOAT NORRIS
carlossainz55 well done mate 👏
landofan3 no y/n likes or commenting what is going on
landofan1 hopefully they broke up 🙏
landofan5 guys this is so mean! he's probably really sad about it
landofan7 cant waiting for him to post "IM FINALLY FREE!!! WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY FUCKING LIFE"
liked by landonorris and others
when i thought about writing this i was totally inspired by celeste's strange song but — at the same time — i couldn't write anything that i really liked enough to post (😭). don't forget to let me know what you think!!!!!
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ziminy · 3 months ago
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Run little butterfly
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You were trying to run from home when you met him, disappearing from his side just the way you appeared next to him, in a dramatic way out of nowhere. And now that he found you, he won't let you go ever again.
Tags: smut, mdni, f!Cinderella reader, king!sukuna, true form sukuna, Sukuna's hand mouth (you'll see what I'm talking about), oral (m and f receiving), first time, fingering, creampie, crying, double penetration, two dicks kuna, Sukuna being a little bit too obsessed with you, jealousy, Sukuna haves a harem,
Author's note: this is a last minute fic I came up with to not leave sukuna out this year's list. Don't worry bbg, I'll never forget about you😘
Author's note: a very much different version of Cinderella. I was thinking of sticking to the original but it doesn't really scream me, so I had to change it.
Masterlist kinktober masterlist
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You were the only child of a small noble house. You grew up enjoying the little's of life, trying to understand the beauty of it and the people next to you.
Your father was gone most of the time since he was traveling for work. You had your mother next to you, making you feel less sad and looking forward for the next day to come.
But your happiness didn't lasted for long, because your mother fell ill. And not long after that, she unfortunately passed away, leaving you and your father all alone.
It was sad, your favorite person in the world disappearing just in a blink of an eye.
You didn't even had time to mourn her death and your father remarried, bringing home a woman you never saw in your life and two other kids who happened to be the same age as you.
You were ignored most of the time, your father gone and your new mother couldn't give a single fuck about what you were doing.
You wished you could go back in time when no one would look in your direction. Because the moment your father also passed away, your life did a 180.
Everything happened way to fast, losing your family, now even the servants leaving because that woman was refusing to pay them. You were also moved to the attic.
You couldn't catch a single break since that woman and her daughters were mistreating you everyday.
You stayed there for a few years, that until you turned old enough to leave somewhere far away and live independently.
You didn't cared about the house, the memories, the people you once loved anymore. All you wanted was to run as soon as possible.
So, one afternoon, right after everybody called it a day and you were supposed to go to sleep, you tried to make your escape.
Taking a horse, you made your way to the gate, getting ready to run so far away that you won't have to ever think about this place again.
You followed the main path, going and going, not stopping until you were out of town.
For the first time in years, you were happy. The more you were getting away from that hell hole, the more you smiled.
After good minutes of getting further away from that house, you calmed down. Feeling at a safe distance to finally breath and let all the weight from your shoulders drop.
You stopped in front of an inn. Getting off your horse and leave it in front of the illuminated building, petting it for a moment before you got some courage to get inside.
You had a few coins that you managed to save over the past few weeks. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you alive for a few days until you find some accommodation, a house that you could finally call your own.
You opened the door, immediately being met with a few people that were sitting at the tables. This places was a lot more full on the inside that it looked on the outside. Whatever, it was none of your business what other does when you had your own problems.
"I'd like to rent a room for the night." you said when you got to the counter.
"I have to check what rooms I have available." the older man in front of you said.
"Also, I have a horse outside. Do you have a stable where I can move it to?" you asked, hoping that your loyal friend will get a good night sleep.
"In the back." you wasted no more time and went outside, moving your horse to a comfortable stable where it could rest for a while.
Now, you were walking back to the inn, ready to pay for your room and sleep until tomorrow morning, then take off to another town and only imagining how life would be stress free.
Right outside the inn, there was an extremely tall guy, you could only see his body form because he had his face covered with the hood of his cloak.
You only looked at him for a moment, but right before you were about to enter the tavern, you felt some arms on you, being dragged to the side.
Your heart was about to get out your chest, you thought that was the end of your journey. Here goes your freedom. It haven't even been an hour and you were caught already.
But instead of your evil step mother or her ugly daughters, you were met with that tall man from earlier.
"I must admit, they did a good job this time." he said in a low voice that gave you chills down your spine. You were confused, not understanding his words, but you didn't dared to open your mouth. You just stood there, silent, waiting for an explanation.
You looked at him with big eyes, you could bearly see his face since it was dark outside, and the light from inside the inn wasn't giving you any help to figure out who he was.
He knew nothing about you and he was already salivating. You were nothing like he saw before. Daring to show up before him in peasants clothes, looking tired and full of anxiety. And yet, you looked so sweet that he couldn't help but want to break you already.
He thought he said he doesn't want any kind of unwanted guests during his trip, but he's not complaining about it when you looked so ready to take him.
He couldn't help but laugh, making you even more confused, and now trying to get away.
When you thought that you could get free, you felt another pair or arms around you. Now you got four arms on you, two on your hips and keeping you in place, one hand on your arm and one under your chin, lifting it up to look at him.
All you could see were his red eyes, that looked like they're glowing.
He looked like a beast who just captured his prey and you couldn't help but feel scared, he was way too intimidating.
His eyes scaned your face for a moment, looking at the dumb expression you had, and then it went lower.
Your lips look so tasty. He wanted to kiss you just to see how you'll react, even if he's usually the type to avoid such act.
Usually, his women would come into his room, look all dolled up and pretty before they take care of him and then leave. No questions asked, no feelings involved.
However, you look so dumb. He couldn't help but want to tease you. To touch you and overstimulate you until you're even more stupid that you already are.
He leaned down, getting his face closer to yours, somehow trying to anticipate your next move. Will you moan or will you keep quiet? Now he wanted to hear your broken cries even more.
He stopped right in front of your face, your noses almost touching. All he did was to look at you.
You froze, all the air from your lungs stopping in place. You couldn't process what was going on.
"Don't use that pretty brain on things you don't understand." even he can't understand why he was acting like that. Craving for you even if this is the first time he saw you.
You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but you couldn't say a single word. Your voice was stuck in your throat.
"Forget about everything they told you. That training was irrelevant." training? What was he talking about? "I make the rules, remember that." right, you shouldn't listen to his servants telling you how to please him. He knows himself better than them.
He misunderstood this completely. You weren't one of his new added toys to his collection. You had no idea who he even was to begin with.
But he didn't cared, his face continued moving, ignoring whatever questions you might have as his lips finally touched yours.
His eyes were cold, and so was his touch. His hands were roughly placed on your body, dragging you closer in his arms. His kisses were loveless, no sign of affection as he tried to deeper the kiss.
Taking all the warmth you had to offer, his cold body was slowly becoming warmer. Bathing in your scent, one of his hands went behind your head, holding you in place to be able to kiss you better. One of his hands on yours, trying to wrap it around his body, wanting to feel more of your touch.
He wanted to be in your arms, to feel how is it when you hold him tightly.
Fuck is even wrong with him. He's not usually like this but now his cocks were hard against his pants, wanting to break free and be inside you. Ah, but he's going feral just thinking about your warm wet cunt taking all of him in. And you must take him in, he won't let you rest until you can take him properly.
"Master." someone could be heard from behind a corner, making you jump and almost run from there.
"Tsk." the tall man said annoyed, getting his face away from you, now fixing his posture but still having you in his arms.
"I prepared the thing you asked me to." that person said again, not daring to show their face.
"Alright." the man said annoyed, finally getting his arms away from you. He looked at you for one more time before he left, leaving you all alone to process what just happened.
You couldn't possibly remain there for the night, you had to leave this place, and you had to leave now. That guy was nothing but a big red flag. Everything about him screamed danger, and you weren't stupid enough to fuck around and find out.
So, in a desperate attempt to get away from there, you went back to the stables, getting your horse out and getting on top of it. You left that place in a hurry, not looking back for a moment as you went back to the place you consider to be safe. By safe I meant that he couldn't possibly appear there, there's no way he could.
So, you ran back to that hell house. Leaving the horse back in its place as you quickly ran inside the house.
Never in your life did you think you'll be so happy to see the same old kitchen you spend most of your time into. And never were you so happy to run to the attic and jump into that rusty bed, falling asleep immediately.
But when you finally got home, the mysterious stranger that you met at the inn just finished his task. Getting into his room and calling for someone to get you to him. He couldn't help but want to ravish you right there and then, split you open on his dicks and pump a few loads in you.
"There's no one in this inn that describes that appearance." were they shitting on him now?
"This female that was recently added to the harem." he tried to find other words to explain it. He knew nothing about you besides how you looked and how sweet you taste for him.
"She's currently at the palace. You told us you don't want to see her because of how inexperienced she was." he did that, didn't he. He remembers something now, a girl with long dark hair getting into his bed wearing nothing but a red transparent bathrobe. She was nothing but talk, it made him lose interest immediately.
"Then I want to see all the females in this inn." he got to find you. He knows you're real, it was no way you weren't.
"There are no other guests besides us." then who the fuck were you? Why did you appeared only before him and then disappeared after making him so hungry for you. Were you a piece of his imagination? No wander he wanted to touch you so bad.
Then he haves no option but to look for someone similar to you, his vision, when he gets back to the palace.
And that night, one of you slept better than a a cat napping under the sunlight and the other was wide awake the whole time.
Sure, the next day came and it reminded you of why you tried to run in the first place, but wasn't it better when you knew you won't have to deal with strangers. Especially someone like that brute of a man.
Your chores and the harassment those three women gave you was annoying, but after yesterday, you'll managed to live a few more weeks with it.
When the weather clears, you'll go out again, and this time you'll do a lot more better.
But perhaps, the universe was giving you a much better solution than to sneak out the house.
Because, you see, by the end of that week your house received a invitation to the Royal ball, and it says that the king is finally going to chose a queen.
Your sisters were running around in circles trying to find a good dress. And the mess they made while looking around was giving you headaches.
But you couldn't really complain when you're planning to leave while they're at the ball.
"Can I come to the ball?" you asked with a basket full of clothes in your hands, being tasked to wash and iron them by the end of the day.
"Mother! Do you hear her nonsense?" one of the sisters yelled, making you close your eyes at the loud noise.
"She can't! Mother!" the other sister said, going to her mother and trying to beg her to say no.
"Do you think they need more servants there? It's a happy ceremony, not a job interview." you knew no was the answer, but still. You tried to see if something changed at least in one of them. Hoping to find a reason to stay in this house for a little longer.
The moment they left in their carriage to the ball, it was the moment you ran out the house and ready to get on the horse.
"Now now, no need to be sad." a masculine voice could be heard behind you, making you turn around instantly.
Two men, both of them dressed in black, one with long black hair and the other with white hair and sun glasses.
"We're here to save you." the white haired guy said, making you raise an eye brow. "Aren't you glad?"
"Who are you?" they acted like it was normal for two unknown men to appear in your yard and act all nonchalant.
"Your fairy godmother."
"But you're two, and men." you tried to correct their words.
"We come in a package. And being a fairy godmother sounds better than a fairy godfather." the white haired guy said.
"Gojo and I will help you go to the ball." the dark haired man said.
"I don't want to." you refused, getting your horse out and ready to get on it.
"But you looked so sad earlier." the white haired guy sounded like he was mocking you. "Come on, don't lie to us."
"If you want to do something for me then kick those women out." it was much better than going to a ball you weren't invited to.
"But you look like you already have your future planned out. Why would we interfere?"
"Then why are you here?" you said, getting ready to get on your horse.
"We better get started or you'll arive when the ball is finished." out of nowhere both of them got some kind of wands in their hands, moving it around in the air before both of them started to do their magic.
"If you're going to a ball you'll need a carriage." the dark haired guy said and you saw a pumpkin floating in the air, getting in front of you and slowly becoming bigger, slightly changing its color and shape.
"We need horses too." the other man said and some mices were turned into horses.
"And a coachman." they looked like they were having fun while you were still very much miserable.
"What about the dress?"
"Something blue?" with a hand movement, your clothes were changed into a big ball gown dress. "And look, glass slippers."
"That will be uncomfortable." the dark haired guy said, getting ready to change your shoes into something more comfortable.
"No, no. They're very much comfortable. Try to walk around." the other guy said, making you walk back and forth and give him a review of how your shoes were.
"It's good. My feet doesn't hurt." you said and try to jump around to show that everything was alright.
"Okay then. Get inside." both of them pushed you inside the carriage.
"You have until midnight to come back."
"The spell breaks when the clock shows 12. Remember that."
"Now go, and don't come back until you had all the fun you needed." they both disappeared into thin air. Leaving you alone in a carriage on the way to a ball you didn't want to go to.
You could jump out the carriage and go back home. But if you're being honest, you want to have a last good memory before you leave your good for nothing status and name and live freely.
A ball didn't sounded that bad. There would be music, food, and a lot of people so you won't have to worry about standing out. There's peacocks out there who are trying too hard to make themselves distinguished, so, you're good.
The castle was a lot bigger up close. You could see it every day from your window in the morning. It already looked big, but now? Damn, you're scared you'll stand out because you have no idea how to act like a noble.
You took a deep breath before getting out of the carriage. Grabbing a bit of your dress in your hands, to help you walk up the stairs.
With small steps, you took your time, looking around at the beautiful paintings and the way the whole place looked like it was covered in gold.
There were guards everywhere. It was a bit scary, if you think about it, but you chose to ignore it.
"Excuse me." you went to someone who looked like they worked there. "Do you know where the ballroom is at?" you asked, being lost in that foreign place.
"This way, miss." the man said in a professional voice, showing you the way to the place where you'll spend the next few hours before you disappear for good.
You went inside the room, being welcomed with a lot of people who didn't looked twice in your direction.
The ballroom was filled with music, but no one was dancing. Rather than that, they were talking between themselves.
Rich people, what do you know.
Most of them were dressed in a similar way to you, but there were some who went over the top. And now that you're thinking about it, your step sisters were doing too much. They probably stand out like crazy, and you couldn't help but giggle.
You decided to go and look around. What's a party without food and drinks?
Making your way between people who didn't wanted to move and inch, you found a table with some desserts on it. They look so tasty, and the taste was even more incredible. Can you steal a few for your journey? Or can you pretend to be a worker there and sneak into the kitchen?
Happy with your discovery, you took a plate of some cake and went to sit somewhere where no one will disturb you.
A small couch that was surrounded by little to no people. And you couldn't ask for more.
You sat on it, enjoying the sweet in your hands, the peace and the fact that no one was giving you any attention.
But the thing is, that if you payed some attention you would have saw why no one dared to stay there. It was the closest couch to the king.
It was in the right side of the throne, just a few feet away from it.
How could you be so blind? How could you not notice that brute of a man. Standing so tall that you could see him from a few crowds away, four arms, not two like the rest of the people in that ballroom. Pink hair that looked like candy, and yet it didn't made him look any softer.
Unlike you, he noticed the person who sat on the couch right away.
His eyes widened, mouth slightly opened as he kept looking at you again and again. Blinking, rubbing his eyes and then blinking again.
"You see that person?" the king asked the closest person next to him, to confirm he wasn't seeing things.
"The lady in the blue dress?" that was all he needed to hear to know he was in fact not hallucinating.
He got up, ignoring who ever dared to come his way and walk to you, stopping right in front of you who still haven't acknowledged his existence.
You raised your head when you finally noticed him, mouth full of delicious cake. You had the same big round eyes he remembers. You gulped, swallowing the sweet down your throat. He haven't said a word since he stopped in front of you, still being in his own world, still not believing that you came to him yourself. He didn't had to look for a replacement anymore.
"Can I help you?" your voice was like magic to him. It could make him melt if you said the right words.
He laughed, a big smirk on his face. But that only made you confused.
You looked left and then right, looking for a clue on what's going on. Perhaps he wanted to sit down and this was the only available space. You knew that nobles have some complicated etiquettes they follow, so maybe he's waiting for you to do something?
Ah, you finally get it. You got up, bowing politely to let him know that was your goodbye. But when you wanted to turn around, you suddenly woke up in the air, and a pair of arms wrapped around you.
"Wha-" panicked, you grabbed onto him. But now that you look at the situation, he was the one who got you in his arms, carrying you out of there. "What are you doing?" this couldn't be normal.
"Don't act like you don't remember me now." his words made sense to you, somehow.
He looked familiar, but you couldn't figure out from where. You don't know his name, this was the first time you saw his face, but that voice sounded so familiar. And his body, it also looked like you saw it before.
He walked around the castle like he owned it. Opening door after door, and getting deeper inside it, and far away from the ballroom.
"Who are you?" he was no ordinary person, you could see that. He walked freely without a single person saying a thing.
He made the guards look like decorations, and they didn't dared to say a thing to him. The palace workers bowed before him, and even the nobles were trying to please him.
"Where are you taking me?" you asked when you figured the answer to the first question.
He still didn't said a word and open one last door.
This room was deep inside the palace, you'd get lost if you try to run from there on your own. But perhaps that was what he wanted from the start. To lock you somewhere you won't be able to run from even if you try to escape.
That place had a big bed in the middle of the room, a couch that was facing the fire place, a big bookcase filled from top to bottom and some really big windows. From what you can see out the windows, and the fact you just walked up a lot of stairs, you were really high up. You won't be able to survive without breaking a few bones if you try to jump.
He really thought of everything, huh?
Walking to the bed, he placed you on it. Turning around and walking towards the door. He didn't thought of finding you this soon, so he had no idea what to do.
"Can I.." you bite your lips before speaking, too afraid that you know the answer too well. "Can I still go home?" he paused when he got in front of the door, but didn't said a thing. "The guys that helped me get here told me to get back before midnight." he almost broke the door when he heard those words. The what? The guys? They did what? "This is actually a spell. I don't actually look like this." he turned around and marched to the bed.
There was something scary in his eyes. But you couldn't help but look at him.
Did you tricked him? Was someone plotting against him and send a doppelganger to play with him?
"Who sent you?"
"I have no idea." you looked away. He won't believe you even if you tell him.
"Tell me." his cold eyes could petrify anyone.
"You don't trust me." you shook your head, trying to brush this off.
"I do. Now tell me." he looked like he could kill you right there, and no one would say a thing about it. You won't be missed, you won't be mourned. You don't even have someone to think about even in your last moments of living.
"Can I leave or not?" your voice just as cold as his, and for a moment he could feel his blood boil. You talked to other men, they send you there to the palace to make a clown out of him and now you dared to act like it was his fault for locking you in a place where he knows you won't run from.
"No." you sighed at his response. Disappointed in yourself for even trying, for listening to some strange men and for not running away when you had the perfect chance to.
"At midnight I turn back to my usual self. I'm not like this, I don't dress this way. You won't like me anymore after that." he was looking for a replacement from the start. This ball was held to find a doll that resembled you. And he found it. You can turn into a hideous monster and he'll find a way to turn you back into this form.
"And you think that I care?"
You looked confused. You had no idea what was going on in his head. What made him act like this and why.
Did you looked like an ex lover? Or someone who passed away? Because if that's the case, then he won't find what he's looking for in you.
"I won't submit to you." you tried to make it clear. "I'm my own person. I can't act like someone else."
He takes your words as a challenge.
He'll transform you into the perfect puppet. You'll match his expectations and taste in all aspects. You'll love him with all your heart and wait for him to return to you at the end of the day. All you need is a little training. And by how things looks, you'll need an intense one.
"You think you can defy me, brat?" he was mocking you. His voice was so annoying.
His face, his body, his status, everything was getting on your nerves now.
"I'm going home." you said. It wasn't a question or request, you were letting him know.
"Try." the shock look on your face was priceless. You looked offended by his words and he couldn't ask for more. He lied, he will get more out of you. Words, expression, feelings, he wants to see everything.
You tried to get up the bed, ignoring the fact that he was right in front of you. He didn't stopped you, he just looked at your dumbfounded expression when your actions weren't stopped by him.
He laughed, his voice filling the whole room.
You looked like you were going to cry, and he couldn't help but want to bite you. Sink his teeth deep into your flesh and leave marks all over your body.
For a moment, you stopped in place, not daring to get close to the door anymore.
Where have you felt that feeling before? The feeling of being watched by a ferocious predator.
You slowly turn around, to look at him who was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. You recognize those red eyes now. It's the same as back then, when you almost successfully ran from home but you were met with that freak who made you turn around.
The realization look you had on your face made his eyes darker.
You had to get out of there, now.
You were if full panic mode, slowly walking backwards to the door, putting your hands on the handle and open it. Not a single second wasted as you ran down that hallway, dress in your arms and trying to get as far away from him as possible.
You stopped just for a moment to look back when you got to some stairs. He was nowhere to be seen, and you didn't know if you actually lost him or he was playing with you.
Whatever, you can think about that after you run from there.
The midnight clock could be heard in the background, but you weren't preoccupied by it. In fact, you couldn't even hear it, too focused on running down that mountain of stairs.
One of your shoes slipped off your foot. You turned around to look at it, and then you saw him, at the end of the stairs and looking down at you.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you almost stopped working for a moment.
Leave it there, a shoe didn't matter when you had far more things to worry about.
You soon got to a hallway, a big open door a few meters away of you, and you couldn't help but run even faster. But the closer you got, the more the door close. And by the time you got to it, it was completely shut.
"No, please!" you banged on the door. "Let me through." no answer.
You tried to open it, pulling it as hard as you can, but nothing. Going back wasn't an answer, and there weren't any other rooms that you could hide in.
There was only one option left. So many windows on your right, it was easy to open one and try to escape. And so you did, you opened a window and looked down for a moment. A broken neck doesn't sounds that bad, if you're thinking about it.
You took a deep breath, with a hand lifting as much of your dress in your arms, and with the other holding onto the window, ready to jump on it and see what the outcome of this event will be.
With no hesitation, you placed your knee on the window frame, trying to balance yours with your other foot and get on top of the window. But then you felt those big muscular arms wrapped around you once again.
"I didn't thought you had the balls to do it." his mouth was right into your ear, his voice leaving chills all over your body. "I might lock you in the basement if you continue to be a bad girl." he can do it, who's stopping him. You won't give up without a good fight.
"So? What do you want from me?" with this he knew you were the person he was looking for. Daring to disappear again just like back at the inn. You loved getting on his nerves, didn't you?
"We have unfinished business." what was he talking about?
"I didn't do anything." and that's the problem. The fact that you left him when he needed you. How dare you.
"Look at the time." he said when he was walking back on the stairs, holding you in his arms. With two holding your body and the other two wrapped around you, in case you planned on doing something crazy again.
"I told you, this is all a spell." and he can't wait for it to go away.
He stopped in place, and you had no idea what he was going to do. "Your shoe." he said, looking at the glass slipper.
"That would disappear too." but that didn't stopped him from moving one of his hands from you and picking up the glass slipper.
He continued walking back to that cursed room, throwing you in bed.
"Let's wait for the spell to break." he sat on a chair next to the door, waiting for your next move. Will your run to the door and try to escape again? Will you jump on him and try to harm him or will you try to jump out the window? He couldn't help but feel exited for your next move.
The disappointed look on his face when you just stood there. Looking down at the floor and from time to time at him with a ugly look in your eyes. You hated him? But that's a strong feeling, wasn't it?
And your words were true. You started glowing, and soon your appearance slightly changed. Your clothes were back to your old rags, your make up gone and your hair freely on your back.
He waited, excited. He couldn't help but wet his lips with his tongue, gulping and pressing his palms against each other. You better transform or he'll do it for you.
He expected more. He thought he'll see something unseen before. A monster, or you at your worst. You got him overthinking that your previous appearance was all a lie, but now you got him to want to bully you for lying to him.
He got up, getting closer to the bed. He stood there before you, expressionless, before he pushed you in bed, making you fall on your back.
"I didn't know you were a liar."
"What do you mean? The spell broke."
"You look exactly the same." he was on top of you, caging you between him and the bed. "You look even better than before." he was strange, truly.
"I still want to go home." you'll try as much as you can. There must be something that will work on this guy.
"I don't want you to."
"And who are you to decide for me?" he didn't respond to your question, choosing to ignore it like most of your questions. Instead, he smashed his lips against yours, his craving for your touch far too loud to ignore it.
And then it hits you. If you distract him, and act all sweet, you might actually be able to fool him and run away.
So, your hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer to you. He looked shocked, and for a moment he just stood there.
"What?" you spit those words at him, annoyed. Even if you cooperate with him, your words can't help but show your true colors.
"Take your clothes off." you gasped.
"I'm not doing this before marriage." you said, not wanting to do more than kissing.
"Consider the ball tonight the wedding ceremony." you looked at him in disbelief. "I'll take them off if you don't want to." even worse.
"I never did this before." you said. Maybe he'll have a heart and try to understand your situation.
"It's definitely going to hurt." no encouragement words? What a dickhead.
"I'll do it myself, no need for you to do a thing." you got up the bed, your hands traveling here and there, taking your time while undressing.
He stood at the edge of the bed, watching your every move. You can run if you want, the door is open, and it would stay that way until he leaves that room. So, you can try as much as you want, it's entertaining watching you fail.
But you didn't run, instead, you did as he said. Taking your clothes off with shaking hands and biting off any bad words you wanted to say out loud.
"Come and help me too." he could only laugh at your expression. But you got closer to the bed, no protests. He better sleep with his eyes open tonight.
He placed his much bigger hand on top of yours, dragging it on him.
You had no idea what to do. You kept looking at his body, at his arms, at his big chest, his shoulders. "Try and undress me, not just with your eyes." he was too much.
You slowly took whatever you could off him, and he just looked at you the whole time.
Now, when both of you were naked, you just stood there in front of him. You couldn't help but stare. He had two cocks, not one but two. I mean, he haves two of everything, but you didn't expect for him to have two dicks as well.
"Close your mouth and stop staring." he laughed at your dumbfounded expression.
"I don't know what to do." he tapped the placed next to him with his palm.
"Lay down here." you layed down on the bed, waiting for what he planned on doing. "You have to open your legs more." isn't he asking for too much already? One of his hands traveled in between your legs. "Look at me." you was expecting everything but to feel something licking your clit. You gasped, and looked at his hand. It was just a hand but it didn't felt that way at all. He laughed again. "I told you to look at me. Don't think of things you can't understand." but you don't get it. You could feel a tongue, traveling between your folds, going up and down, playing with your pearl.
"What's that?" you asked out of breath, forgetting how to even breath for a moment.
"This?" he showed you his palm, which was having a mouth on it. Since when was it there? His hand went back between your legs, playing with your clit again, one of his other hands joining in, as you felt something at your entrance. "Keep your eyes on mine or I'll give you something to occupy yourself with." you had no idea what he was planning to do. With a quick move, he stood up, his dicks against your face. "You know what to do." you looked up at him, at his dumb grin and then at his friends that were right in your face. "Open your mouth." one of his thumbs was on your lips, pressed against it to make you open it and suck on it. He then moved his hand and took one of his cocks, giving it to you to do your thing.
You weren't trained to please him, but even so, he had some expectations from you.
You could do it. If others could, so can you. But look at you, who can't even take half of his fat cock into your mouth.
"Do good and I'll reward you." he said and added another finger inside your wet pussy. "See?" he said and curled his fingers. "Now get to work."
With your head pressed against his thigh, you wrapped a hand around one of his cocks, while trying to take the other in your mouth.
He let out a loud groan, making you unsure if you should continue or stop.
A promise is a promise, and he's true to his words. Since you're trying so hard to please him, he should return the favor. He kept curling his fingers, going in and out of you as his mouth kept playing with your pretty clit. He was touching all the good places, he knew that, and he didn't stopped a bit. Now determined to discover even more places and touch better than before.
Your walls started to clench around him, squeezing him so tight and making him wander how that will feel around his cock.
"You wanna cum? You better keep working then." his words made you try even harder, too desperate of that foreign feeling inside of you.
He kept moving his hands, and you kept trying to figure out what to do to him. But oh, you were so close that you couldn't think straight anymore. And it happened in a flash, your mind going blank and trembling under his touch as you came.
He kept his hands moving for a little longer before stopping, when you finally came to your senses.
"Now focus on me." his hands went away from you, now gripping your hair and pushing your head down his length. You tapped his thigh, too afraid you won't be able to breathe anymore. He moved your head, sometimes he moved his own hips, and soon, he was going to cum too. "Don't let spill anything. Swallow." he said before cumming down your throat.
This was more than enough. You didn't had the strength to go further than this.
Intimacy can be too tiring. And he looked like he enjoys sucking the energy out of you.
"We're not done yet." not yet? What more does he wants from you?
He got on top of you, positioning between your legs. Two of his arms places next to you, while one held your hips. With his only free hand left, he held one of his cocks at your entrance, rubbing his head against your pussy. Getting his head inside your cunt, then drag it out to rub it between your folds, rubbing it against your clit. Then back at your warm entrance again, slowly getting his head inside, just to get out and then again.
He was playing with you. He was enjoying seeing you mad.
But this time, when he got his tip inside of you, he kept pushing, going deeper and deeper. And he didn't stopped until he got inside all the way in.
Warm, wet and hugging him just right. He loved it. He could stay inside of you forever.
His face got closer to yours, looking at you and at the way you were struggling to fit him in. But he been so attentive to you, and you can't even fit him in.
Slowly, he moved his hips, in and out at a calm pace. It gave you all the time you needed understand how you managed to fit him in. And it also gave him time to understand how painfully slow this was.
His revenge was going to wait a lot before he fucks you properly.
He wanted to rearrange your inside for the way you left him, but now he had no option but to wait.
He's going crazy. He's dying in your arms and you're not doing anything. You're not talking to him, you're not looking at him.
He grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together and making your lips come forward.
"What?" you tried to say.
He kissed you, making you wrap your arms around him as he kept moving his hips.
This was better, when you held him in your arms was so much better. It made this fire inside of him calm down and let him realize the situation he's in.
One of his hands went between your bodies, softly rubbing your clit as he kept moving, making your bodies slightly rock together.
His tongue inside your mouth, his movement was so sloppy, not having a proper rhythms but keep increasing the force he kept slamming into you with.
The first orgams pulled out of you with force, him not giving you a moment to breath and keep going for it until he filled your warm walls with his hot cum.
But when you thought it was over, it never was.
He got out of you, giving you a break for a moment before you felt him back between your legs, this time a lot more bigger. He had both of his dicks in his hand, now trying to push them inside of your pussy to fill you up.
"It won't fit." you said, trying to stop him from this madness.
"Take a deep breath." he said before finally managing to get inside.
He was going to kill you, because this was too much. The way he split you open, being stretched out like never before. And he kept moving his hips too, like the fact that you still haven't accommodate to this strange feeling meant nothing to him.
It hurted, but at the same time, the way he kept you open felt good. And you hate to admit it but you might cum just from this alone.
His hips kept moving, and this weird feeling started to feel so much better. It went to the point where you started crying, too much for you to handle.
"Shh. You can take it." he said, a hand moving some hair away from your face.
He liked those hot tears that were falling from your eyes. It made him wander why he didn't try to make you cry a lot earlier.
Can you even come again? He can't help but wander. Guess he haves to find that out himself.
Pounding into you, keeping you wrapped in his arms and not giving you a break. He managed to make you cum again, now focused on the way your squeezing him again. And just like last time, he painted your insides white, this time getting you fuller than last time.
But it's not over, because he haves to try this again, but from another position.
You didn't managed to last too long and fell asleep in his arms, the next day waking all alone in there.
You wasted no time in putting your clothes back on and running out that room, down the stairs and back into that hallway. Being welcomed with a close door that was blocking your way out. Now having no choice but go back to that room and wait for him to arrive back. Who knows what he's planning to do this time.
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Author'a note: I was planning on making Gojo and Geto the step brothers but then it would have because their fan fic. I might write something similar to this but for them. Dunno tho, I'm too lazy to do it.
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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months ago
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How to have cancer
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THIS WEEKEND (November 8-10), I'll be in TUCSON, AZ: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.
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I've got cancer but it's probably (almost certainly, really) okay. Within a very short period I will no longer have cancer (at least for now). This is the best kind of cancer to have – the kind that is caught early and treated easily – but I've learned a few things on the way that I want to share with you.
Last spring, my wife put her arm around my waist and said, "Hey, what's this on your rib?" She's a lot more observant than I am, and honestly, when was the last time you palpated your back over your left floating rib? Sure enough, there was a lump there, a kind of squishy, fatty raised thing, half a centimeter wide and about four centimeters long.
I'm a 53 year old man with a family history of cancer. My father was diagnosed with lymphatic cancer at 55. So I called my doctor and asked for an appointment to have the lump checked over.
I'm signed up with Southern California Kaiser Permanente, which is as close as you come to the Canadian medicare system I grew up under and the NHS system I lived under for more than a decade. Broadly speaking, I really like KP. Its app – while terrible – isn't as terrible as the other apps, and they've taken very good care of me for both routine things like vaccinations and checkups, and serious stuff, like a double hip replacement.
Around the time of The Lump, I'd been assigned a new primary care physician – my old one retired – and so this was my first appointment with her. I used the KP app to book it, and I was offered appointments six weeks in the future. My new doc was busy! I booked the first slot.
This was my first mistake. I didn't need to wait to see my PCP to get my lump checked over. There was really only two things that my doc was gonna do, either prod it and say, "This is an extremely common whatchamacallit and you don't need to worry" or "You should go get this scanned by a radiologist." I didn't need a specific doctor to do this. I could have ridden my bike down to the KP-affiliated Urgent Care at our local Target store and gotten an immediate referral to radiology.
Six weeks go by, and my doc kind of rolls the weird lump between her fingers and says, "You'd better go see a radiologist." I called the Kaiser appointment line and booked it that day, and a couple weeks later I had a scan.
The next day, the app notified me that radiology report was available in my electronic heath record. It's mostly technical jargon ("Echogenic areas within mass suggest fatty component but atypical for a lipoma") but certain phrases leapt out at me: "malignant masses cannot be excluded. Follow up advised."
That I understood. I immediately left my doctor a note saying that I needed a biopsy referral and set back to wait. Two days went by. I left her a voice message. Another two days went by. I sent another email. Nothing, then a weekend, then more nothing.
I called Kaiser and asked to be switched to another Primary Care Physician. It was a totally painless and quick procedure and within an hour my new doc's intake staff had reviewed my chart, called me up, and referred me for a biopsy.
This was my second mistake. When my doctor didn't get back to me within a day, I should have called up KP and raised hell, demanding an immediate surgical referral.
What I did do was call Kaiser Member Services and file a grievance. I made it very clear that when I visited my doctor, I had been very happy with the care I received, but that she and her staff were clearly totally overloaded and needed some kind of administrative intervention so that their patients didn't end up in limbo.
This is a privilege. I'm a native English speaker, and although I was worried about a serious illness, I didn't have any serious symptoms. I had the ability and the stamina to force action in the system, and my doing so meant that other patients, not so well situated as I was, would not be stuck where I had been, with fewer resources to get un-stuck.
The surgeon who did the biopsy was great. He removed my mass. It was a gross lump of yellowy-red gunk in formaldehyde. He even let me photograph it before it went to pathology (warning, gross):
https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54038418981/
They told me that the pathology would take 2-5 days. I reloaded the "test results" tab in the KP website religiously after 48 hours. Nothing was updated. After five days, I called the surgical department (I had been given a direct number to reach them in case of postsurgical infections, and made a careful note of it).
It turned out that the pathology report had been in hand for three days at that point, but it was "preliminary" pending some DNA testing. Still, it was enough that the surgeon referred me to an oncologist.
This was my third mistake: I should have called after 48 hours and asked whether the pathology report was in hand, and if not, whether they could check with pathology. However, I did something very right this time: I got a phone number to reach the specialist directly, rather than going through the Kaiser main number.
My oncologist appointment was very reassuring. The oncologist explained the kind of cancer I had ("follicular lymphoma"), the initial prognosis (very positive, though it was weird that it manifested on my rib, so far from a lymph node) and what needed to happen next (a CT/PET scan). He also walked me through the best, worst and medium-cases for treatment, based on different scan outcomes. This was really good, as it helped me think through how I would manage upcoming events – book tours, a book deadline, work travel, our family Christmas vacation plans – based on these possibilities.
The oncologist gave me a number for Kaiser Nuclear Medicine. I called them from the parking lot before leaving the Kaiser hospital and left a message for the scheduler to call me back. Then I drove home.
This was my fourth mistake. The Kaiser hospital in LA is the main hub for Kaiser Southern California, and the Nuclear Medicine department was right there. I could have walked over and made an appointment in person.
Instead, I left messages daily for the next five days, waited a weekend, then called up my oncologist's staff and asked them to intervene. I also called Kaiser Member Services and filed an "urgent grievance" (just what it sounds like) and followed up by filing a complaint with the California Patient Advocate:
https://www.dmhc.ca.gov/
In both the complaint and the grievance, I made sure to note that the outgoing message at Nuclear Medicine scheduling was giving out false information (it said, "Sorry, all lines are busy," even at 2am!). Again, I was really careful to say that the action I was hoping for was both a prompt appointment for me (my oncologist had been very insistent upon this) but also that this was a very broken system that would be letting down every patient, not me, and it should be fixed.
Within a couple hours, I had a call back from KP grievances department, and an hour after that, I had an appointment for my scan. Unfortunately, that was three weeks away (so much for my oncologist's "immediate" order).
I had the scan last week, on Hallowe'en. It was really cool. The gadget was awesome, and the rad-techs were really experienced and glad to geek out with me about the way the scanner and the radioactive glucose they infused in me interacted. They even let me take pictures of the scan visualizations:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54108481109/
The radiology report was incredibly efficient. Within a matter of hours, I was poring over it. I had an appointment to see the doc on November 5, but I had been reading up on the scans and I was pretty sure the news was good ("No enlarged or FDG avid lymph nodes are noted within the neck, chest, abdomen, or pelvis. No findings of FDG avid splenic or bone marrow involvement").
There was just one area of concern: "Moderate FDG uptake associated with a round 1.3 cm left inguinal lymph node." The radiologist advised the oncologist to "consider correlation with tissue sampling."
Today was my oncology appointment. For entirely separate reasons, I was unable to travel to the hospital today: I wrenched my back over the weekend and yesterday morning, it was so bad that I couldn't even scratch my nose without triggering unbearable spams. After spending all day yesterday in the ER (after being lifted out of my house on a stretcher), getting MRIs and pain meds, I'm much better off, though still unable to get out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time.
So this morning at 8:30 sharp, I started calling the oncology department and appointment services to get that appointment changed over to a virtual visit. While I spent an hour trying various non-working phone numbers and unsuccessfully trying to get Kaiser appointment services to reach my oncologist, I tried to message him through the KP app. It turns out that because he is a visiting fellow and not staff, this wasn't possible.
I eventually got through to the oncology department and had the appointment switched over. The oncology nurse told me that they've been trying for months to get KP to fix the bug where fellows can't be messaged by patients. So as soon as I got off the phone with her, I called member services and filed another grievance. Why bother, if I'd gotten what I needed? Same logic as before: if you have the stamina and skills to demand a fix to a broken system, you have a duty to use them.
I got off the phone with my oncologist about an hour ago. It went fine. I'm going to get a needle biopsy on that one suss node. If it comes back positive, I'll get a few very local, very low-powered radiation therapy interventions, whose worst side effect will be "a mild sunburn over a very small area." If it's negative, we're done, but I'll get quarterly CT/PET scans to be on the safe side.
Before I got off the phone, I made sure to get the name of the department where the needle biopsy would be performed and a phone number. The order for the biopsy just posted to my health record, and now I'm redialing the department to book in that appointment (I'm not waiting around for them to call me).
While I redial, a few more lessons from my experience. First, who do you tell? I told my wife and my parents, because I didn't want to go through a multi-week period of serious anxiety all on my own. Here, too, I made a mistake: I neglected to ask them not to tell anyone else. The word spread a little before I put a lid on things. I wanted to keep the circle of people who knew this was going on small, until I knew what was what. There's no point in worrying other people, of course, and my own worry wasn't going to be helped by having to repeat, "Well, it looks pretty good, but we won't know until I've had a scan/my appointment/etc."
Next, how to manage the process: this is a complex, multi-stage process. It began with a physician appointment, then a radiologist, then a pathology report, then surgery, then another pathology report, then an oncologist, then a scan, then another radiologist, and finally, the oncologist again.
That's a lot of path-dependent, interdepartmental stuff, with a lot of ways that things can fall off the rails (when my dad had cancer at my age, there was a big gap in care when one hospital lost a fax from another hospital department and my folks assumed that if they hadn't heard back, everything was fine).
So I have been making extensive use of a suspense file, where I record what I'm waiting for, who is supposed to provide it, and when it is due. Though I had several places where my care continuity crumbled some, there would have been far more if I hadn't done this:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo
The title of this piece is "how to have cancer," but what it really boils down to is, "things I learned from my own cancer." As I've noted, I'm playing this one on the easiest setting: I have no symptoms, I speak and write English fluently, I am computer literate and reasonably capable of parsing medical/technical jargon. I have excellent insurance.
If any of these advantages hadn't been there, things would have been a lot harder. I'd have needed these lessons even more.
To recap them:
See a frontline care worker as soon as possible: don't wait for an appointment with a specific MD. Practically any health worker can prod a lump and refer you for further testing;
Get a direct phone number for every specialist you are referred to (add this to your phone book); call them immediately after the referral to get scheduled (better yet, walk over to their offices and schedule the appointment in person);
Get a timeframe as to when your results are due and when you can expect to get a follow-up; call the direct number as soon as the due-date comes (use calendar reminders for this);
If you can't get a call back, an appointment, or a test result in a reasonable amount of time (use a suspense file to track this), lodge a formal complaint with your insurer/facility, and consider filing with the state regulator;
Think hard about who you're going to tell, and when, and talk over your own wishes about who they can tell, and when.
As you might imagine, I've spent some time talking to my parents today as these welcome results have come in. My mother is (mostly) retired now, and she's doing a lot of volunteer work on end-of-life care. She recommends a book called Hope for the Best, Plan for the Rest: 7 Keys for Navigating a Life-Changing Diagnosis:
https://pagetwo.com/book/hope-for-the-best-plan-for-the-rest/
I haven't read it, but it looks like it's got excellent advice, especially for people who lack the self-advocacy capabilities and circumstances I'm privileged with. According to my mom, who uses it in workshops, there's a lot of emphasis on the role that families and friends can play in helping someone whose physical, mental and/or emotional health are compromised.
So, that's it. I've got cancer. No cancer is good. This cancer is better than most. I am almost certainly fine. Every medical professional I've dealt with, and all the administrative support staff at Kaiser, have been excellent. Even the doc who dropped the ball on my biopsy was really good to deal with – she was just clearly drowning in work. The problems I had are with the system, not the people. I'm profoundly grateful to all of them for the help they gave me, the interest and compassion they showed, and the clarity and respect they demonstrated in my dealings with them.
I'm also very grateful to my wife, my parents, and my boss at EFF, all of whom got the news early and demonstrated patience, love, and support that helped in my own dark hours over the past couple of months.
I hope you're well. But you know, everyone gets something, eventually. When you find yourself mired in a broken system full of good people, work the system – for yourself and for the people who come behind you. Take records. Make calls.
Look after yourself.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/05/carcinoma-angels/#squeaky-nail
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changisworld · 8 months ago
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“Are you being serious?”
Fuckboy!hyunjin x reader
Word count;8,001
Summary: You & Hyunjin are finally moving into a positive direction, finals are now here though so you are both trying to focus on that, meaning you both can’t spend so much time with each other unless you both want to go insane. You tell your lecturer how well your assignments are going & he gets the bright idea to let you tutor someone in your class who is struggling a lot & is in desperate need of help… that being Hyunjins friend, Han Jisung.
18+, MDNI, SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT.
main masterlist here
part 1 here & part 2 here
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ALL WARNINGS: Jealous Hyunjin, Jealous reader, Possessive Hyunjin, voyeurism??, recording, spit, creampie, fingering, oral(m rec), body worship, PIV, unprotected sex, marking, begging, dirty talk, praise, angst & fluff, crying after sex, brief aftercare (more happens off screen), soft hyunjin
-> reader is described as Hyunjins girlfriend & 'she/her' pronouns are used a few times but its brief<3
->This isn’t proofread so if there’s any errors i apologise mwah x
In the month running up to finals, you have been absolutely drowned in assessments & of course you need to pass, so for that reason, you n Hyunjin haven't spent as much time together. You do both study together every once in a while but you work a lot better on your own & he respects that, leaving you to it as he studies in his own free time.
You have both been doing well in the sense your feelings have grown for one another but college is still the same, Hyunjin still being the bubbly person, sitting with his large group of friends while you sit further at the back, but to give him credit he does openly choose to work with you for random partner tasks (which half of the girls in the same course a you now resent you for) & he brings you a drink at least once a day.
You've just submitted one of your last essays (which you're proud of of course) & now you can relax a whole lot more than you were before... until your lecturer asks you if you would like an extra few credits.
You of course say yes, knowing it will definitely help if for some reason you get marks taken off for your other grades, not thinking it would be too hard to complete, that is until he tell you what you need to do.
"Jisung has been really struggling y/n, you can really help him & I know you can since you've never had below a ninety. Don't feel pressured please, but I'm sure he would really appreciate it." He says to you, giving you a pleading look.
You sigh before just nodding your head, not wanting to let your professor down, but also don't want someone in your class to fail simply because you couldn't be bothered to help him.
You know he's really good friends with Hyunjin, him mentioning a few times & they have always sat beside one another, loving to piss off everyone around them. You know he doesn't take anything too seriously but you would feel more guilty if you didn't at least try.
"Thank you y/n. I'll be sure to tell him when I next speak to him one on one. I'll see you tomorrow & I'll have him come talk to you, if he gives you a hard time though by being an idiot, don't be afraid to stop helping him, you're not being forced." He says to you in a cheery voice as he fixes his papers, messy all over his desk. You say your goodnights to each other & you leave the building, making the short journey home.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
You get home & of course Hyunjin is already waiting for you, Tuesdays being the one day a week you promises you would spend time together, regardless of the busy schedules.
"Took you long enough, thought you had fell asleep in the damn hall. What was it he was talking to you about? I'd rather swallow a whole potato in one go than waste my time talking to that guy outside of hours, that guy hates me." Hyunjin questions, not looking up at you for more than a second as he stirs the pasta he is cooking for the both of you.
" He hates you because you made that mans hair go grey with the stress you've causes him n trust me, I almost did, we were talking about how I'm preparing for finals, he also asked me to help one of your friends with a whole lot of it." you sigh as you kick your shoes off & putting your bag on the coat peg hung up on the wall, on the tiny bit of free space that Hyunjins multiple jackets & hoodies now clogging up.
"Really? wait taste this, n who is it? Half my friends are dumbasses so you've got your work cut out, good luck to ya." Hyunjin jokes as he holds up the wooden spoon to your lips, his other hand underneath the spoon to catch any droplets.
You taste it n let out a hum of approval which makes him smile before turning around to continue stirring a few more times before going into your cupboard to grab two plates. "Your friend Jisung! I'm surprised he asked me out of all people, I've only had one actual conversation with him n that was during freshers, I only remember because he was wearing those glasses of his & kept bursting out into song randomly." you chuckle as you recall the memory, getting you both a glass before going into your fridge to grab the bottle of prosecco you bought yesterday just for this occasion.
Hyunjin stops his movement for a second before replying with a 'mhmm' & you don't think too much of it, grating some cheese before putting it on the coffee table in your living room rambling about random stuff, but his mind doesn't move. "So about Jisung, did you say yeah to helping him?" he asks, setting both of your plates down on the small table before grabbing two cushions off your couch n placing them on the floor, patting it for you to sit down next to him.
"Yeah, I agreed because I've only got a few more things to do n I'll be finished, I'd feel guilty for saying no, I can't let him just fail the entire course because I couldn't be bothered you know? If what you're worried about is that I won't have time for you, you're wrong, I'll still be seeing you on Tuesdays regardless." You reply in an your usual tone, giving Hyunjin a peck on the cheek as you thank him for the pasta before picking up your fork & taking a bite.
"Jisung.. Isn't someone you wanna try teach, It's a waste of your time, you should probably pass on the offer. You should help me! I'm sooo stuck on the power point." he responds, his voice monotone, trying to hide how pissed he actually is.
"Hyune, we both know you're not struggling, you only have like two more things to do so stop being silly, n besides, I get a few extra credits if I do it so it will be worth it." you say after swallowing a bite, looking at him & that's when you realise his body language, completely giving away the fact he is now in a sulk as he purses his lips at what you say, not verbally replying to you.
"Hyunjin, what's up with you, hmm? You were so happy when I got home, is something bothering you?" you ask him, putting your fork down. "It's just.. Jisung is just gonna try get in your pants y/n. I know what he's like, if he actually gave a fuck about this grade, he woulda tried way before now, he has a music career now so he doesn't even need college." he says, pointing his fork at you & swaying it around as he speaks, his voice serious despite him trying to sound unbothered.
You just look at Hyunjin, honestly confused on where this attitude has came from. "Just because he might have another career once he leaves, doesn't mean he doesn't wanna pass, Hyune. He won't 'get in my pants' I don't even know him or anything about him apart from what you've told me." a tinge of annoyance in your voice now, not at all liking what he has to say.
"Alright." he mumbles as he begins eating, not wanting to discuss it further so you ignore it, moving onto a different conversation, which makes his mood slightly better than it was before.
Hyunjin leaves an hour or so later, after helping you wash up & cuddling with you until you were dozing off. You give him a sheet of notes you had written earlier in that day just for him to help him with his own essays, changing the wording a whole bunch so he wouldn't accidentally write something similar to you have done, which he can't help but blush at the thoughtfulness. He leaves your apartment in the same mood when you first came home earlier on.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
You're walking to your morning class after grabbing a drink from the cafeteria when you hear someone calling your name from behind you over the music of your headphones, you turn around to see Jisung being the reason your name is being said, his dorky little smile looking back at you as he walks up to you.
"Hi y/n, in case you didn't know but I'm Jisung n I just wanna say thank you for helping me with all of this, means loads to me." he says, giving you an awkward chuckle as his hand rubs against the nape of his neck.
"Don't worry about it, just don't make it a waste of my time, I still need to do loads of my own stuff so I won't be waiting around for you." responding in a cold tone as you put your headphones on again before walking to your class.
You take your own unofficial seat & just go on your phone, not paying much attention to the things going on around you, blocking out the multiple conversations going on around you.
You look down to the right corner of the auditorium & notice Hyunjin isn't sitting in his own usual spot.
You; Where r u? u okay? Hyune<3: yea, just slept in lol, just take pics of what u write n i can use that, ill probs be in after break
You begin texting a response when the chair next to you is pulled out & someone sits beside you, you look to your left & Han is smiling at you, pulling his books out of his bag & placing them on the desk.
"Sir told me to come n sit beside you since he is helping yuna right now n he doesn't have time to re-explain it all to me. You still okay to help me, right?" He blurts out, looking at you with his boba eyes, you just nod your head & he smiles.
Jisung begins to show you where he's at on each part of the assessments he needs to do & shows you the very few notes he has actually been bothered to write down.
"You've only wrote this..? for an entire years worth of work this is all you have to help you?" yo snort as you hand back his notepad, your eyebrows raised. "I thought it wouldn't be this intense!" he responds, his voice whiney.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
You spend the next hour roughly explaining how to do the main parts of everything & you were writing down a few things for him since you realise he is a painfully slow writer, but you choose to hold your tongue since you think he is actually listening since he is actually asking you a question ever so often.
The time hits quarter past eleven so you grab your little blue money purse before standing up to leave for your break when Jisung moves his chair out so you can't leave. "Y/n, could I get your number or something? so I can text you.. about the work! of course." Han asks you as he stands up to face you fully.
"Awk yeah that would make sense, alright." you take one of your pens off the desk & open the cap before grabbing Jisungs hand before you write your number on it & then squeezing yourself past him, walking up the rest of the stairs to leave but he runs up to you again to begin walking with..well, behind you, ignoring his friends at the other end of the room shouting his name.
"Thanking you y/nnie, I can call you y/nnie right? anyways what's your plans for after college hours? Do you have a job you gotta get to? Any sorta clubs? I get the vibe you definitely are a part of... an art class. I woulda said book club but I feel as if that's too basi-" "You talk so much, holy shit. My plan is to finish what I need to finish tonight or tomorrow so I'll have time to actually help you" you cut off, rolling your eyes as you begin walking one of the common area benches, Jisung still trailing behind you.
You sit down & Jisung settles himself beside you, smiling at his friends whenever they walk past, talking your ear off as you just stare at him, not paying attention.
A minute later, You turn away from Jisung & lean your head against the wall in annoyance , Jisung now talking about how he lived in Malesia & almost got eaten by an alligator when your eyes scan the area & that's when you notice Hyunjin strolling towards you. You lean back upright & smile n wave at him & he smiles back, until Han pops his head out from behind you to see who you're waving at, your body no longer covering him from the way you're both sitting.
Hyunjin reaches you but doesn't sit down, instead standing in front of both of you. "Heya y/n, hi jisung, what you both talking about." Hyunjin says in a weird tone of voice, sounding slightly off standish. "Couldn't tell ya, sir didn't really go over anything new so I didn't write anything down to give you, he was just answering others questions, come sit." you say as you pat the spot beside you but he doesn't budge, feet staying glued to the floor, hi eyes moving to now look at the man sitting beside you.
"So if he was answering questions all day, why'd you not just ask him for help on what to do? Why are you putting more on y/ns plate?" Hyunjin spits to jisung, his facial expressions scarily neutral. "Because he would spend an entire day explaining it to me! I asked y/n a million times if it's fine n it's fine! y/n doesn't mind it." Han whines back, throwing his hands around & that's when Hyunjin notices your number drawn onto his hand.
Hyunjin looks at it then back at the both of you before scoffing. "Point is, you don't give a fuck about passing, I'm not stupid. I'll see you later." he speaks in the same cold tone, tapping your head condescendingly before walking away & down the hall out of sight.
"What the hell is his problem, he has such an attitude." you murur, mostly to yourself but Jisung responds anyway. "dunno, maybe stress." feigning innocence.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
Hyunjin walks into class, blood boiling. He sits on the opposite side than he usually does & puts his headphones on, basically throwing the items in his bag onto his desk before logging into his computer & pulling up his word document.
He doesn't look up at any of the noise around him, other students for some reason spending their break in the same room they've been sitting in for four hours now until someone taps his head before pulling his headphones off his head.
"Nice song, what's it called?" Lisa chimes as Hyunjin turns around, relaxing when he sees it's just her & not a random person trying to piss him off. "You're still on your essay? y/n handed hers in already, didn't your little girlfriend feel like helping you out?" she remarks, sitting on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs while she looks down at him.
"y/n.. isn't my 'girlfriend' so to speak n anyways, we both agreed to do it on our own since y/n concentrates better that way n i've learned that so do I, so if you could leave Lisa i'd like that." he responds, his tone sounding more rude than he intended.
"Who pissed in your cereal Hyunjin, jeez. That sucks, I'd love for you to help me, I'm further behind than I wanted to be, can I borrow your notes at least? & you sure y/n works better on her own? She was helping Jisungie a wholeeee bunch earlier." she speaks back, sweet toned, the smile not wiping off her face for even a second, picking up his notepad & flicking through it.
"Mhmm, just take it n give it back at the end of the day. I told y/n helping Jisung is a waste of time but sir n Jisung both wormed their way into her brain knowing she would feel too guilty for saying no, she didn't listen to me, she's too kind." he replies, not bothering to look up at Lisa despite feeling her eyes almost burning two holes into his side profile.
"Clearly not too kind if she can't listening to her own boyfriendddd" she teases, ruffling up his hair. "I told you, we aren't officially together, you taking my notes or no? I have stuff to do Lisa." he snarks as he finally actually looks up at her as she jumps off the desk, jotter in hand.
"I know, just wanted to hear you confirm the fact. I would ask you to send me the notes but you've blocked my number, y/n has you so bitched, didn't think I'd see the day." Hyunjin just rolls his eyes as Lisa says this but he sees you & Jisung walking back into the room, six or seven levels above & he gets an idea.
He rolls his chai out, blocking Lisas path as he looks up at her, a puzzled look on her face. "If you say please, I'll think about unblocking youuu." he taunts, his pretty smile showing on his face. Lisa looks up at you in your usual seat, noticing your quick glances down back at them, trying to not make it too obvious before looking back down at Hyunjin. "Pretty please, Jinnie?" she responds, battering her eyelashes as she ruffles his hair again.
He chuckles before moving out of the way, letting her past. As she leaves, he murmurs a 'next joke, fuck that' to himself, internally cringing at the conversation between them before pressing play on his spotify again & doing his work.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
The day finally ends & you are quick to get out of the room, not being surprised if steam was coming out of your ears with how pissed you are. You noticed Lisa & Hyunjin speaking & you were unable to concentrate from that moment on. 'Why was she touching him?' 'Why was he flirting with her?' 'what a fucking dick' keep bursting into your mind & you honestly want to punch them both in the face.
Hyunjin gets his notepad back from Lisa & walks away without saying much of anything to her, trying to catch up to someone in particular... Jisung.
He knows his schedule like the back of his hand & it doesn't take much walking or time to find him, sitting on a small ledge waiting for the main music room to be unlocked for him, Chris & Changbin, eating a packet of skittles, filling his chubby cheeks while just idly looking around.
"Heya Hyunjin, you alright?" He questions, pulling his legs closer to his chest so Hyunjin can sit down opposite him, which he does. "Been better, got a question for you though." he sighs, leaning forward to dig his hand into Jisungs packet & takes out a handful of skittles, dumping the green ones back into the packet.
"Go f'r it." he speaks, words muffled as he pours more into his mouth. "What you doing with y/n? I pretty much made it clear to stay away, so what is your problem? You coulda asked anyone to help you but I know you went to sir n specifically asked for y/n's help, you can't fool me I've known you too long." he questions, his voice sounding far too normal for it to be comfortable.
"You didn't tell me shit, n I'm not a toddler, what makes you think you can tell me what to do? You're not actually together together so why can't I simply speak to her?" he remarks, smirking at him knowing he is getting under his skin as he throws his empty food wrapper at the bin but missing, making him kiss his teeth.
Hyunjin scoffs at his words, in disbelief. "Han stop being a dick, y/n is mine n it's that simple so just fuck off, I've never told you to leave anyone fuck alone until now so just do it? It's not difficult believe it or not." Hyunjin snaps back, getting more annoyed as the clock ticks by, not bothering to keep his tone quiet as another student walks by every once in a while.
"Yea n we also agreed we wouldn't cockblock each other yet here you are, you guys aren't official which you said yourself so it's fair game. You can't claim someone if you're still flirting with your other little side pieces, me & y/n saw you n Lisa earlier. You seriously wanna get rid of everyone else you see for one person? Next joke." he replies, his voice raising at the end, honestly enjoying how pissed off Hyunjin is getting, his face getting more & more red.
"Lisa is literally nothing to me n yea-" Hyunjin is cut off as Changbin n Chan swivel around the corner, all smiles. "Heya Hyunjin, not seen you in ages, Jisung I got the key so we can go in now, you coming Hyun?" Chan questions as he turns his back to unlock the door.
"Nah, I'm busy n got things to do, I'll speak to you all later." Hyunjin replies, squishing Changbins cheeks playfully, trying to ease any tension the others are starting to sense, before walking off, his breathing intense as he leaves the building & pretty much speed walking home.
⭑・゚゚・:༅。.。༅:゚::✼✿  ✿✼:゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
He enters his complex building & storms up the multiple flights of stairs, skipping a step or two each time. He turns the corner & sees you sitting on his doormat, both of you making eye contact.
You stand up & wipe any dirt that could be on you as Hyunjin sighs, stopping in front of you as he moves one of his headphone speakers, not even bothering to fully pull them off.
"Are you gonna speak to me n tell me what's wrong with you Hyunjin?" You speak out, placing your hands on your hips. "Do you seriously not know what you've done? Give me a fucking break. Move, I want to get inside." he spits back before trying to worm his way around you but you stop him.
"Hyunjin what the fuck is your problem? I've done jack shit n yet you're treating me as if I'm an annoyance to you! I'm not leaving till I get an answer." you yell back, getting even more pissed at his attitude.
"I'm not even going to bother arguing with you, especially in my fucking hallway y/n, get inside." He spits out as he pushes your arm away & unlocks his door before entering, not bothering to shut it as he knows you're gonna end up following him.. which you do.
You shut his door behind you & chase behind him as he walks into his bedroom & throwing off his hoodie, not even acknowledging you as he does his usual routine.
"So you gonna explain or what? Also turn around when I speak to you, don't be so fucking rude Hyunjin." you utter, speaking to his back as he doesn't even bother looking at you.
"Got nothing to explain. You gonna tell me why you wrote your number on Jisungs arm when I specifically told you what he would be actually wanting from you & after telling you it would be a complete waste of time?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns around to look back at you, leaning on his desk.
You raise your eyebrows at him, not being able to hold back the shocked laugh at his words. "Are you being fucking serious? First of all Hyunjin, I'm not a kid that you can boss around n second of all, I only gave him my number so he can ask me about anything he needs & I'm basically finished everything I need to do for finals so I don't fucking care about helping your friend out a bit!" you yell back, your heart beginning to race.
"It's fucking obvious he was flirting with you y/n?! Are you really that naive to fucking see it? Sorry to be the one to tell you but it's true." he replies, swinging his arms around & pointing as he speaks.
"So fucking what if he was? It changes absolutely nothing since I'm not interested! But if you want to speak about flirting, you're a huge fucking hypocrite since you were basically drooling over Lisa earlier & you knew I was watching! Your attitude is disgusting & if you're acting like this when we aren't even official then what makes you think that is what I want? You're straight up immature." you shout, your voice going a bit raspy & your hands shaking.
"I did that because I was fucking hurt about what you were doing! & I know we aren't officially together but you haven't been acting as if you want to be with me! You don't even listen to me y/n when I know what the hell I'm talking about. I chosen you for me to actually try get into a relationship with but I'm thinking it's not worth it." he cries out, tears threatening to leave his eyes as he says this, shouting back at you.
"Are you trying to insinuate I'm 'lucky' to be in this position with you, get off your fucking high horse holy shit! I didn't flirt with Han at all but you can't say the same about you & Lisa, how am I supposed to trust you if you act like this over something so small? This isn't even fucking worth it Hyunjin, I'm not going to let you see me as if I'm beneath you." you respond, your voice going monotone at the end as you shake your head at him before turning around to leave, realising this conversation is getting nowhere.
Hyunjin is quick to step across his room & get between you & the bedroom door, blocking you from leaving. "When the hell did I say you're beneath me? Why can't you see how upset I am over all of this? I want to be with you in the future but you are just throwing it back in my fucking face? Do you just like the attention or something? Is that why you just straight up refused to listen to me?" he questions, looking right into your eyes with his own, his eyes being similar to how they looked when he came to your house & confessed to you not too long ago, but with anger mixed in along with them this time.
"You're fucking joking, right? What 'attention' am I getting other than you yelling in my face about it? Stop being such a jealous prick Hyunjin, the future isn't now so you don't have this 'claim' on me like you think you do, as much as I want it & how much you claim yo want to, we aren't fucking dating & you wanna know why I think you're trying to hold back? Is because you like the attention & you won't be able to fuck anyone else without it being considered cheating! Come back to me when you can sort your jealousy & other issues out." You scream at him, a tear or two falling down your cheeks but you're quick to wipe them away, not looking right at him as you speak.
Hyunjin cackles at our words before yet again stopping you from being able to leave, putting his hand on the door handle. "You speak so much stuff that you're convinced you know all about but you couldn't be so wrong it's honestly a joke. I don't want anyone else but you & I've made it so clear since the start, You expect me to not be jealous when someone is fawning over you.. what's mine? Acting as if your blood doesn't boil when anyone flirts with me? You being so pissed about Lisa is a prime example. Stop acting like you're any better than me, that you're not just as possessive over me, you just don't wanna seem like a psycho about it." He replies, his tone still full of venom but no longer yelling at you, tonguing his cheek.
"Why wouldn't I be jealous? I'm clearly threatened by all the girls who drool over you, even more so because I'm not similar to those girls, I'm not as confident or straight up ballsy as them! But the way you've gone about everything is so wrong Hyunjin." You cry, voice lowering to match his but the tears not fully stopping & he takes his finger to wipe them away, pouting.
"I'd be lying if I said you admitting you're jealous isn't hot, but stop fucking worrying, I wouldn't give you the time of day if I wasn't one hundred percent sure. Stop crying too, you don't need to. But being for real, y/n, sto-" He is cut off as your phone begins ringing in the back pocket of your jeans & Hyunjins arm is quick to swing around & pull it out before reading the nameless number, Hyunjin hands it to you with his eyebrows raised, already knowing who it is.
You answer the phone & It's obviously Jisung, who doesn't even give you time to say anything before asking you a whole bunch of questions, saying he is 'stuck' on what to do.
As Jisung speaks, Hyunjin taps the 'speaker' button before ushering you towards his bed, his smirk not leaving his face. You look up at him with confused eyes as the back of your knees hit the bed, making you sit on it before Hyunjin pushes on your shoulder so you're laying fully down, your feet still on the floor of his room before getting on top of you & moving your head to the side before nuzzling his face in your neck, beginning to nibble at it, making you tense up beneath him & your breath hitches.
"Jisung can I call you ba-" You're cut off by Hyunjin nibbling down on your neck as he mumbles a 'nuh uh' & your hand reaches up to pull on Hyunjins hair & he does his best to hold back a groan, his hand slithering down to your jeans, unbuttoning the button after around thirty seconds of trying & then using his hand & legs to push them down just far enough for acccess.
He begins to allow his finger to graze over the outside of your pussy, feeling the fabric of your panties, not failing to feel over the small wet patch now visible as he sucks a dark purple hickey into the crook of your neck & your eyes scrunch together as you bite your lip, trying to not make a sound.
"I did the first two paragraphs but I'm stuck on what quotes to use, I think the ones I've chosen are too short to keep writing about, what quotes did you choose?" Han questions on the other end of the phone but you're barely paying attention as the man above you now wriggles his fingers under your panties, now drawing small circles on your clit, making you gasp.
"You can't use t-the same quotes I use J-jisung, read what you've chose o-out to me." you stutter out, hips grinding against Hyunjins fingers as best as you can with the position you're in.
Jisung begins to read out his quotes & Hyunjin can't help but let out a small chuckle, half at how hard Han is trying but the other half being at how hard you're trying to remain coherent, so he steps up his actions. He cups your pussy before dragging his hand down to your dripping hole & entering two fingers in, a small squelch being heard & your legs tense up even more as you melt into his lips, still suckling hickey after hickey into your neck.
"Y/n? Am I breaking up? We can meet up if you want & you can go over it, I know a café we can meet at if you're free?" He requests & Hyunjin breaks away from you neck to reply for you. "y/n is busy, figure it out." he remarks as he hangs up before turning your phone off & tossing it to the side.
"Didn't know you're into that, y/nnie, you're so wet just from a few touches? So dirty." he remarks, smirking at you before locking his lips with yours, his tongue tasting your own before he even gives you time to respond & you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.
His fingers begin to hit against your G-spot as he uses a 'come here' motion as his thumb begins to rub your clit from side to side, making you whine into his mouth, making him smirk.
You move your arm down, dragging your nails down the front of him & over his abs over his shirt before beginning to palm his cock over his joggers, making his hips jerk forward before changing your position by rolling himself onto the bed & pulling you so you're straddling him, his fingers leaving your cunt as he does so, making you whince.
You begin grinding over his covered hard on after kicking your jeans fully off, you being left in just your shirt & panties. "Maybe you're the dirty one Hyune, can't resist touching me while your friend is on the phone hmm?" You finally have the chance to reply & Hyunjin chuckles as his hands come down to your ass, fondling the skin. "Oh but I can resist, but why would I when it's funny to hear him try ask you out while disguising it as 'studying' while you're at my house currently half naked?" he replies instantly, biting his lip as your wetness is now soaking through your panties & leaving a small spot on his clothes, staining them.
You roll your eyes before you pull his shirt off his body, messing up his hair a bit before you slither yourself off the bed & onto his carpeted floor & tugging on his joggers, his hips raising to help you remove them, leaving him in only his underwear.
"You're being bold for someone who couldn't take more than a quarter of my cock last time you sucked it, you trying to train yourself for Jisung?" he teases, resting his bodyweight on his elbows, looking down at you as you pull his hardened cock out, pumping it slowly in your hand.
"Maybe I just didn't want to take any more seeing since I have no idea where it's been." you spit back, looking up at him as you smirk, your bottom lip in between your teeth as you let a glob of spit escape your lips & fall onto his pretty pink tip. He opens his mouth to respond but you cut his words out of his chest by licking a long strip from just above his base to his tip before letting the tip fall past your lips, suckling on it softly, making him hiss.
You let your tongue swirl against his tip before you begin dipping your head lower, allowing your mouth to take part of his shaft in your mouth too. You are still a bit nervous since it's only your second time sucking cock but Hyunjins words fuel you to prove to him you can take it all, so as he is taking a deep breath out, hand holding your hair out of your face, you force your head down further so over half of his cock is now in your mouth & you hollow your cheeks, making his toes curl & have to consciously try not jerk his hips into your mouth.
"You been practicing y/n? Doing so well, taking it so g-good, so pretty." he groans, lightly slapping your cheeks, feeling his cock through the skin of your cheek, giving him butterflies.
You begin to bob your head up & down his cock as you use your hand to jerk him off in the same rhythm, making his grip in your hair tighter as his groans & hisses get more frequent, making you convinced you're probably leaking your own wetness onto the floor you're situated on.
You let yourself off his cock to catch a breath as you let all the spit that's formed in your mouth get dribbled back onto his cock if it hasn't already fell past your lips & you look up at him with glossy eyes as you pump him at a faster pace, his cheeks blown out & now breathing out his mouth.
"Only practice I've gotten is off the pretty boy I'm looking at right now." you chuckle, honestly having no idea where the confidence is coming from before you blow cold air onto his tip, making him yelp & scrunch his eyes shut before leaning forward to pull you back onto the bed.
"I refuse to cum before fucking you" he mumbles, out of breath as he kisses you again, full of tongue. "Open your mouth." he hushes as he breaks away from your lips, fingers playing with your folds over your panties again, his wet cock against your thigh.
You do as he says & he spits into your mouth, humming as you swallow it, nothing but lust in both of your eyes. "Such a slut deep down, aren't you? You want more? Your hips can't fucking stay still." he chuckles, biting his lip as he looks down at the sight below, your lower half squirming to try get more friction & you just whine.
"Hyune.. Please give me it, don't I deserve it?" You question, seduction tinging your voice & Hyunjin can't stop the feeling of his cheeks & ears going hot, the way you're currently talking making his head spin.
He stands up & pulls you towards the edge of the bed, still laying on your back as he peels off your soiled underwear, your pussy glistening & his mouth waters, deciding to spit right onto your clit, making you whine.
He pushes your legs that little bit further apart before situating himself between them, jerking himself slowly while looking down at you. "How bad do you want it, hmm? tell me how much you want it, pretty." he speaks, not looking away from your pretty face as he hits his tip against your clit, making a tiny, sticky slapping noise. "Hyune I deserve it, want it so much, don't I? Look how wet I am for you." you whine, fingers trailing down to spread your lips, exposing your hole to him.
Hyunjin groans at the action , his cock twitching as he aligns himself up with your entrance. "Say it one more time, didn't quite hear you." he replies, hand caressing the inside of your thigh as he drags his cock up & down your folds. "Hyunjin please just put it in! I need it s-" Your cries are cut off as he pushes his tip past your hole & sheaves into you until his pretty, full & heavy balls are against your skin, making you gasp.
"You're so tight, Jisung not fucking you right?" He asks, trying to sound calm & collected when in reality he is trying to not cum on the spot, your warm, wet walls wrapping around his dick perfectly. "t-stop winding me up hyune, please move." you whine in response, making Hyunjin smirk as he retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs.
He sets a slow but powerful pace, small squelching noises & both of your whines & grunts filling not only his bedroom but the entire apartment. "For someone wh-who's such a fu-fuckboy, you're not fucking me l-like one." You struggle but get the words out, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine & it works as he grunts before pushing the backs of your thighs up against your chest before beginning to pound into you, making you squeal.
"You wanna try repeat that for me, hmm? You're saying that as if anyone can fuck you like this but me, your cunt is mine, can't your brain understand that or are you just too much of a whore to only want one dick?" He snaps at you, his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat as he abuses your cunt, his thumb reaching down to your cunt, making you yelp & your hips begin meeting his thrusts halfway.
You shake your head but he isn't happy with that response & he grabs your face by the cheeks, forcing you to look up at him as he leans forward. "Words, y/n, where did your boldness go, hmm? Who's pussy is this? Tell m-me." He asks, breath quick & short as he doesn't slow down for even a second, letting out a hiss as you reach up to his back & digging your nails into him on accident, for sure leaving marks later but none of you bothering to care.
"Y-y-yours! Hyun-jin I'ma c-cum." you screech, brain going completely blank, your body almost exploding with sensation. Hyunjin smirks at you before standing upright again, continuing his assault on your swollen cunt. "Cum for me then, show me how good I-I make you feel, Only I can do this for you, can't I? Only I know how to m-make you feel so good, you look so beautiful under me, you need to see." he groans back at you, throwing his head back momentarily before looking back down at you as you cum around his cock, wriggling & squirming as it washes over you, your knuckles going white from the grip you have on his bedsheets.
He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving you breathless before he pulls out. You don't have much time to question it however as he pulls out of you & grabbing your phone off the floor before returning to you.
"Gonna show you how fucking hot you look, It's on your phone so it's just for your eyes, no stress." He says, breathless as he turns on the video option before pressing record & sliding himself back into you, your orgasm forming a white ring around his base.
You clench around his thick cock, partly from overstimulation as he begins pumping into you again, chasing his own release now. The camera is pointed at you so you decide to act up a little, pulling your shirt above your tits, exposing your hardened buds to the camera & cold air of the room, making Hyunjin whine. "Look how beautiful you are y/n, you're anything & everything I could e-ever fucking want, taking me so well, I've t-trained you to take my c-cock so well." he says in a husky voice, his throat now dry as he continues ogling you, looking down at your swollen, reddened pussy, dragging the phone down to let the screen get a good look too, watching it tense & clench around him, making his knees almost buckle.
His eyes widen as your fingers move up to your pretty tits as you begin playing with your own nipples, tugging & pulling on them before raising your fingers to Hyunjins lips & he gladly suckles on them, moaning onto them before you pull them out of his mouth & caress your now spit covered nipples softly.
"You like the c-camera, beautiful? You-you're so dirty, so p-perfect for me. Turn your pretty face to the side, show the camera w-what you let me do to you y/nnie" He groans, his voice high pitched & squeaky & you do as he says instantly, not fully processing what he meant or said as he move the camera upwards, showing the purple marks he has inprinted on your skin.
"G-gonna cum y/n." he forces the words out & before you even realise, you're wrapping your legs around his waist & pulling him towards you. He tosses the phone to the side again before falling onto his elbows on each side of your head & you use the rest of your strength to tilt your head up enough to connect your lip to his neck & you begin pinching the skin of his neck with your teeth & you suck a big purplish red mark into his neck as his own orgasm washes over him.
He melts into your skin as his orgasm fills you, coating your walls & giving you goose bumps. You let him fully lay on you as you softly kiss his neck & earlobe, letting him catch his breath back as you also try relax your own breathing.
You lay like this for a minute or two in complete silence as you now begin playing with Hyunjins wet hair, before tears start leaving your eyes. You begin to sniffle & Hyunjins brain switches itself back on as he pushes his head up from your neck to look at you, now crying.
"Y/nnie, why are you crying? Did I hurt you?" He begins to panic as he moves off of you to start checking you but you sit up too, basically following him as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him back down to you.
"Just stay here f'r a bit, Hyune I'm sorry, I didn't know how upset I would make you." you sniffle, not looking right at him as he looks at your reddened face, his heart hurting. "I'm sorry too, I don't want you to feel insecure, I was being stupid. Can we.. go on a proper date? I know it's not the most romantic time or place to ask but I was n still am serious about only wanting you y/n, I mean it, pinkie swear." He asks you in a soft voice & he holds out his pinkie to you & you can't help but let out a small giggle as you interlock them together then kissing your thumbs before locking in the promise.
"Took you long enough to fucking ask me." You reply as you wipe the tears off your cheeks, reaching up to kiss Hyunjin on the cheek & his already red cheeks get an even darker shade.
"Better late than never, Stay here n I'm gonna get us a drink n we can go for a bath." He kisses your forehead before getting off of you but he takes the time to shuffle you up to his pillows & laying your head on it as he grabs his bed throw & lays you under it so you're not just sitting there, before leaving the room dancing & singing.
"Y/n & Hyunjin sitting in a tree" He sings out loud as he walks around his house & you can't help but laugh. "Stop singing that or I'll change my mind!" You yell & he shuts up instantly (not including the whine of protest he yells back), making you laugh to yourself.
I'm not completely sure I want to do a fourth part to this so in case this is actually the finale, I really hope everyone who has taken the time to read it has enjoyed reading the past 3 parts as much as I enjoyed writing them & thank you for all the kind words! <3
TAGS: @tsunderelino @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada
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justlemmeadoreyou · 8 months ago
Text
3. protectively watchful (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)
(part 1 here) | (part 2 here)
summary: you take up on the mantorship offer, but it creates more tensions and turmoil within you than were before. an incident in the kitchen makes harry go into protective mode, and you can't help but get turned on by this man more and more.
words: 4.8k
warnings: sexual tension (like A LOT), inappropriate behaviour, protective!harry.
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***
"You wanted to see me, Chef?"
You gave a light knock on the open door of Harry's office, trying to sound polite and professional. It had been a few weeks since you had that talk with Harry about keeping things strictly business between you two. During that time, he had been a perfect mentor - giving you advice and guidance without any flirting or suggestive comments.
His coaching had really helped improve your cooking skills as you soaked up all his knowledge and experience. You were grateful to have a normal working relationship again, focused solely on culinary training. And yet...you couldn't ignore the faint lingering tension between you, that subtle underlying charge.
Harry looked up from the notebooks on his desk, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile when he saw you. "Ah, there you are. Come on in, have a seat."
You sat down in one of the chairs across from him as Harry neatened up the loose papers into a stack. Up close, you couldn't help noticing how well-fitted his black button-down shirt was, or how his tousled hair looked very touchable.  
Firmly reminding yourself this was just a professional meeting, you averted your eyes politely until Harry cleared his throat.
"So as you know, the big Martin gala fundraiser is coming up in a few weeks," he began, shuffling through some folders. "It's one of the biggest events of the year for underprivileged culinary education programs. I'll be preparing the featured dish for their live auction, and I'd love for you to assist me on it."
Your eyes went wide with surprise at this prestigious opportunity. The Martin gala was a hugely famous event in Chicago's culinary scene, attracting all the wealthiest and most notable diners. For an up-and-coming chef to collaborate on the centerpiece dish was an amazing honor and chance to get exposure.
"Wow, yes of course!" you replied enthusiastically. "I would be absolutely honored, Chef. Thank you for this incredible opportunity."  
Harry's dimples deepened as he smiled approvingly. "Don't thank me yet. We'll be under a huge spotlight to deliver an amazing showstopper dish. I expect you to rise to the challenge."
You quickly nodded. "You can count on me to give it my absolute best effort. I'm ready to do whatever work is needed."
"Excellent," Harry said in a slightly lower, huskier tone. "That's exactly what I like to hear."  
For a moment, his voice had a heated quality that hinted at other situations where your eagerness might be welcome. You ignored the shiver it sent through you, reminding yourself this was strictly business now between you two.
Harry seemed to realize he was skirting the line, as he abruptly straightened up and all hints of flirtation disappeared as he switched fully into mentor mode. "Right, well let me walk you through my basic vision so far..."
You leaned forward attentively as he outlined preliminary ideas for a highly ambitious and avant-garde dish blending molecular gastronomy techniques with classic French cuisine fundamentals. It was wildly cutting-edge, even for a showpiece event like the Martin gala. But the more details Harry provided, the more that same thrill of adrenaline rushed through you whenever presented with a new culinary challenge to conquer.
For the next hour, the two of you bounced ideas back and forth in that unique creative flow state that chefs share. Harry's presence was magnetic, but you refused to get distracted by more physical aspects - like the stretch of his biceps against his crisp sleeves, the hint of toned abs beneath his open collar, or the raspy timbre of his voice dipping into that lower register as he passionately discussed certain techniques.  
And oh, his damn tattoos.
No, you sternly told yourself as the conversation began wrapping up. Those days of getting flustered around him were over. Harry had made it clear where you stood, and you fully accepted those boundaries. Anything else was just self-torture.
"...but of course, those are just preliminary thoughts," Harry was saying as he collected the scattered folders into a neat pile. "We'll have plenty of time to refine the details over the next couple weeks."  
You nodded, filing away the mental notes you'd taken during the discussion. "Absolutely, Chef. Just let me know whatever you need for prep or testing different ideas to get a head start."
"Will do." With an air of finality, Harry gathered up the pile and rose from his seat. You quickly stood up as well, not wanting him to loom over you in the enclosed space. For a beat, you both hovered awkwardly, the air seeming to thicken between you.  
"Well then," Harry said, making no move to step past you towards the door. "I'd say this calls for a drink to celebrate our new collaboration, wouldn't you agree?"
Before you could reply, he turned and went to a small antique cabinet tucked in an alcove you hadn't noticed before. With a practiced hand, Harry selected a heavy glass decanter and two tumblers, placing them on the cabinet and expertly twisting off the stopper.
"Let's go with Lagavulin," he mused aloud, carefully pouring two generous glasses of the amber scotch whisky. "A good Scottish whisky seems appropriate for the occasion."  
"I really shouldn't, Chef," you said reflexively, already picturing your lightweight self getting sloppy and unprofessional after even a single drink.
But Harry just chuckled softly. "Loosen up a little. It's a celebration, after all."
He emphasized this by bringing one of the heavy tumblers over and pressing the cool glass into your hand. You frowned down at the coppery liquid, worrying your lower lip uncertainly. But before you could protest further, Harry gently clinked his glass against yours in a silent toast before taking a sizable sip.
The whisky's smoky, peaty aroma seemed to wrap around you intimately. Despite your hesitation, you couldn't help giving an appreciative inhale before taking a small, tentative sip yourself. Bold, layered flavors of vanilla, caramel, and charred oak underscored by an earthy smokiness burst over your tongue. You let out a soft sigh of indulgent pleasure at the decadent taste.
"Good, isn't it?" Harry's gravelly voice made you start slightly. He was watching you with amusement, whisky glass dangling casually from those large, handsome fingers. "It really hits you in the back of the throat, makes you slow down and savor it fully."
You suddenly realized the suggestive implication behind his phrasing and felt a flush of heat bloom across your face and chest. Harry watched the play of emotions flickering over your features with relish before taking another indulgent sip. This time, you noticed the way his full lips pursed delicately to drink, the tiny furrow of concentration between his brows as he savored the flavor before swallowing.
Unconsciously, your eyes tracked the mesmerizing flex of his throat as he swallowed, the hint of stubble grazing along his chiseled jawline. A twinge low in your abdomen accompanied the thought of feeling that scratchy burn of beard between your thighs, that talented mouth working magic elsewhere on your body.
Mortified, you shut down that wayward trail of thought through sheer willpower. Your cheeks grew even hotter as you realized Harry had caught you staring, his own gaze darkly amused.  
"Easy there," he murmured huskily, stepping a bit deeper into your personal space. "This dish is a marathon, not a sprint. Best to learn to savor every indulgent morsel along the way."
With a pointed look and arched brow, Harry raised his whisky to those plump lips once more, holding your gaze as he placed the rim against that full lower lip and let out an obscenely gratifying groan of pure delight.
Moments after, the tension had subsided, but the flush and blush that had creeped up your cheeks wasn’t going away anytime soon–you were sure of that.
***
You tried to push aside the lingering thoughts about the “Celebration” that were now implaed into your mind, and the way tiny droplets of the drink remained on his lips till he licked them off with his tongue–
You wanted that tongue to be yours.
Shaking your head, you focused on prepping the ingredients for the evening service. The dinner rush would be starting soon and you needed to have everything ready. As you worked, you were vaguely aware of the dining room filling up with patrons being seated. The sounds and aromas of the bustling kitchen surrounded you in a familiar, comforting way.
You were so engrossed in your tasks that you didn't notice the man approach until he cleared his throat loudly. Looking up, you saw a smartly-dressed diner smiling at you in a way that made you instinctively uncomfortable.
"Well, hello there," he said in a syrupy tone. "I was just admiring the delicious-looking fare over here." He raked an obvious look up and down your body. "The menu selections have my mouth watering already."
You stiffened, recognizing the overly familiar leer. This wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an obnoxious patron hitting on you. Keeping your expression neutral, you replied in a polite but firm tone. "I'm afraid you'll need to return to the dining room, sir. The kitchen is off-limits to guests."
Rather than taking the hint, the man leaned nonchalantly against your prep station. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I was just hoping you could suggest something...special for me to sample tonight." He punctuated this with an exaggerated wink.
Suppressing a grimace, you turned away to continue your work, hoping he would give up and leave. No such luck. The lech sidled closer until he was nearly pressed against you. "What do you say? I'd love for a tasty little thing like you to--" 
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the kitchen area immediately." Harry's firm baritone cut across the man's words like a whip crack.  
You looked up in relief to see your boss standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched as he glared at the offending patron. Even from several feet away, you could sense the potent force of his displeasure rolling off him in waves.
The diner seemed to shrink slightly under Harry's censorious scowl. "Oh, uh, my apologies. I was just trying to get some personal recommendations--"
"The kitchen is off-limits and you're making my staff uncomfortable," Harry interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I won't ask again. Return to your table or you'll be asked to leave the premises."
Looking sufficiently cowed, the lech swiftly retreated with some mumbled apologies. You exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the anxiety brought on by the unpleasant encounter. Harry stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked you over with concern.
"You okay? That asshole didn't go too far, did he?"
You managed a faint smile, oddly touched by the protective edge in his voice. "I'm fine, Chef. Just another boorish customer thinking the uniform is a dinner invitation."  
His jaw tightened again as he scowled in the direction the man had gone. "That type of behavior is completely unacceptable. You let me know right away if anyone hassles you like that again, understand?"
Nodding, you found yourself blinking rapidly against the unexpected prickle of grateful tears at having Harry firmly in your corner, despite the complicated dynamics between you lately.  
For a long moment, he watched you carefully as if gauging your equilibrium. Then Harry surprised you by reaching out and briefly squeezing your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. The warmth of his large hand seeped through your uniform, leaving a tingly imprint even after he pulled away.
"I've got your back, [Y/N]. You focus on doing your job and let me deal with any assholes who get out of line."
The gruff tenderness in his words made your heart do a traitorous little flip in your chest. You nodded again, not trusting your voice enough to respond properly.
With one final pointed look, Harry turned and headed back out to his front-of-house duties.  As you watched his broad-shouldered form disappear through the swinging doors of the kitchen, you felt a complicated tangle of gratitude, protectiveness, affection...and yes, a lingering undercurrent of attraction that you couldn't seem to fully extinguish despite your best efforts.
You spent the rest of the dinner service determinedly pushing aside any lingering thoughts about Harry or the earlier incident. Focusing fully on your work was the only way to get through these confusing emotions that had you all over the place..
The rhythm of prepping, plating, and coordinating with the other line cooks settled into a familiar, reassuring routine. The constant flurry of chopping, sautéing, and barked orders provided a sort of meditative escape from your muddled headspace.
By the time the last diner had been served and the kitchen was winding down for the night, you felt pleasantly drained in that satisfying way that comes from a job well done. As you began breaking down your station for cleaning, Harry emerged from his office looking satisfied.
"Excellent work tonight, everyone," he called out in that effortlessly commanding tone. "Front-of-house said the new salmon dish was a huge hit. We'll definitely want to keep that one on the seasonal menu." 
A chorus of tired but pleased murmurs went around the kitchen at the praise. Harry's eyes found yours amidst the small crowd, holding your gaze a beat longer than strictly necessary before moving on to the other cooks. You tried not to read too much into it.
With the nightly pep talk concluded, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white chef's coat, joining everyone in the evening breakdown and cleaning duties. You watched surreptitiously as he expertly broke down one of the grill stations, muscles in his broad forearms flexing enticingly with each efficient movement.  
Get a grip, you scolded yourself, quickly refocusing on scrubbing down your own prep area. This was exactly the kind of distracted, unprofessional behavior you were trying to avoid lately around Harry.
Despite your best efforts, however, you couldn't fully ignore him moving about the kitchen, checking in with each station to oversee their sanitation. At one point, he paused to examine some utensils that hadn't been properly cleaned, tsking in displeasure before batting them aside to be re-scrubbed.  
"That's never going to meet inspection," he chided the sheepish-looking young line cook in his trademark gruff tone. "Do it again, and do it properly this time. We're not running a greasy spoon here."  
As much as his uncompromising attitude could be intimidating, you also found it oddly...thrilling to witness Harry taking charge so authoritatively. Not to mention the visual of those powerful hands deftly at work was sending your thoughts in an unprofessional direction yet again.
Sternly redirecting your focus, you turned your back to give the area behind the grill station a thorough scrubbing. You were so engrossed that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Harry's low voice sounded directly in your ear.
"Everything looking good over here?" 
You whirled around to find him looming directly behind you, near enough that you could smell the spicy notes of his subtle cologne mingling with the lingering kitchen aromas clinging to him. Up this close, you couldn't help noticing how the top buttons of his coat had come undone at some point, offering a teasing glimpse of the toned chest beneath.
Trying not to stare, you quickly averted your eyes as you nodded. "Y-yes, Chef. All clean on this side."
"Hmm." His assessing gaze slowly raked over your work before returning to your flushed face. The tiniest of smirks played about his lips as if he could read the direction of your thoughts.  
"Well, then. Carry on," was all he said before turning and strolling unhurriedly back towards his office, burgundy cargo pants slung enticingly low on those lean hips.
You let out a shaky breath, mentally cursing how easily flustered you still became around this man, no matter how much you tried to enforce boundaries. Resolutely, you refocused on finishing your cleaning tasks, determined to get out of there before any more distracted lapses in professionalism.
By the time the kitchen had been scoured from top to bottom, you were one of the last few staffers remaining. Wearily peeling off your apron, you were just reaching for your bag when Harry reappeared, looking unhurried and relaxed now that the nightly duties were done.
"Heading out?" he asked as you approached, one thick eyebrow raised questioningly.
You stifled a yawn with the back of your hand. "Yeah, I'm beat. Gonna try and get some extra sleep before the morning prep shift tomorrow."
He made a noncommittal sound, falling into step beside you as you headed for the employee exit out back. For a few moments, you walked in silence, oddly aware of the warmth radiating off his body this close to yours.
When he finally spoke, it wasn't at all what you expected. "You did good with that asshole customer earlier."
Your steps faltered slightly at the praise before quickly recovering. "Oh...uh, thanks, Chef. You really didn't need to step in like that."
"The hell I didn't," he countered gruffly. There was an edge to his tone that made the tiny hairs at your nape prickle. "No one treats my staff like piece of meat, especially not in my own goddamn kitchen."
Harry shook his head in disgust at the very idea, causing a lock of mahogany hair to fall rakishly across his furrowed brow in a way that really shouldn't have been as distracting as it was.
Swallowing hard, you refocused on the matter at hand. "I've dealt with guys like that before. Just comes with the territory sometimes, y'know?"
"That doesn't make it acceptable," he insisted, mouth setting into a grim line. You found yourself unable to look away from the sharp angles of his frowning profile, chiseled jaw ticking faintly with irritation, that he tried to mask.
He fixed you with those intense pale eyes, all traces of humor gone. "No one - and I mean no one - gets to treat any of you with disrespect while I'm in charge around here. I won't stand for that shit under my roof."
The ferocity in his tone sent an involuntary shiver rippling through you, though from wariness or...something else entirely, you couldn't say. All you knew was the low, authoritative resonance of Harry's voice carried an unmistakable air of command that raised goosebumps along your arms.
Maybe it was the late hour, or the fact you were walking in such close proximity out of public view. Or hell, maybe it was just the sheer presence of this man who could flip between stern taskmaster and something rawer, more carnal in the blink of an eye.
Whatever it was, you felt that subtle spark between you ignite and suddenly, you desperately needed to be alone to process the yearning that flickered to life low in your belly. Before you could consider the impulse further, you were blurting out the first excuse that came to mind.
"Well, thanks again for that. And for the whole mentorship thing too. I, uh...I actually have some errands to run, so I'll just catch you tomorrow morning, 'kay?" 
You didn't even give Harry a chance to respond before ducking through the exit, muscles taut with confused tension. As the cool night enveloped you, you drew a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to steady yourself.
Whatever weird atmospheric flux had momentarily enveloped you back there was too dangerous, too distracting from the tenuous balance you and Harry had only just reestablished. No, it was better to put some space between you before things got muddied again.
With a fierceness born of sheer force of will, you wrestled your turbulent, wandering thoughts back under control. You were a professional, with goals to work towards. Getting pulled into Harry's electrifying orbit again would only derail you.
Still, as you hurried to your car, his shape-shifting countenance kept flashing unbidden across your memory - the dazzling smile, the brooding intensity, the simmering promise of authority barely restrained. All of it provided an infuriatingly potent combination that had your body humming with repressed longing despite yourself.
This was going to take more effort than you'd anticipated.
***
The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of grueling practice runs and preparation for the Martin gala. You and Harry spent nearly every waking hour in the kitchen, iterating endlessly on his showpiece dish concept.
With the prestigious event date rapidly approaching, any lingering awkwardness or tension between you had been shifted firmly into the background. The shared urgency of perfecting this culinary masterpiece became an all-consuming focus that left little room for anything else.
Still, that didn't stop you from noticing...things.
Like how the sleeves of Harry's whites had an endearing tendency to get shoved up his forearms in a way that displayed those tanned, sinewy muscles to distracting effect as he worked. You definitely didn't linger over the sight of his strong hands deftly wielding a knife, making precise, practiced cuts. And you absolutely did not imagine those dexterous fingers trailing across your skin instead of the cutting board.  
At least, that's what you sternly told yourself in an ongoing effort to maintain focus.
For his part, Harry was all business during these preparation sessions - issuing clipped instructions, evaluating ingredients with a critical eye, pushing both of you relentlessly to get every component just right. Only rarely did you catch hints of something more underneath that professional veneer.
Like the time you were bent over a burner, carefully spooning out the orbs of flavored olive oil onto the waiting plate. Harry stepped up behind you to examine your work, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. As he leaned in closer to inspect the delicate orbs, his low murmur caressed the fine hairs at your nape in a way that made you shiver.
"That's it...go nice and slow with a deft touch," he rumbled in that raspy timbre that never failed to send tingles shooting straight to your core.
Heart pounding, you risked a sidelong glance to find his pale eyes already locked on yours, glittering with an intensity that contrasted sharply with his deceptively neutral expression. A charged moment stretched between you as that underlying spark you'd been determinedly ignoring flared, sudden and molten. 
Just when you thought you might spontaneously combust, Harry blinked and cleared his throat brusquely. "Carry on, then," he instructed in his normal crisp tone before turning away to focus on another component. 
You stood motionless for several heartbeats, fingers clenched around the spoon, skin flushed and tingling in equal measures of arousal and disbelief. Did that really just happen or had the endless hours in the kitchen started affecting your mind?
Too skittish to ponder it further, you dove back into your tasks with even more single-minded focus, the uneasy moment shelved and locked away tight. No matter what fleeting tension arose in isolated pockets, you couldn't afford to unpack it right now - not with the enormity of what was at stake.
The days ticked down in a relentless march until finally, you and Harry stood in the solitude of his spartan office the night before the big event, taking a breather from your marathon final prep session.
An ungodly number of mise en place containers filled every available surface, each holding fussed-over components of the highly elaborate and conceptual dish that would make its debut tomorrow. Harry had pushed you both to your physical and creative limits, drilling the execution repeatedly until he was satisfied you could plate it flawlessly under the anticipated scrutiny.
Now, having quality-checked and prepped every last possible element, there was nothing further to do except rest up and bring your sharpest mental game tomorrow. Harry seemed to deflate slightly as the backdrop of mounting pressure decreased for the first time in weeks.
Propping his hip against the desk with studied nonchalance, he quirked one eyebrow in a sidelong glance. "You ready for this?"
Despite your weariness, you felt that familiar thrill of adrenaline stir at those simple words - as well as a contradictory quiver of nerves. This event was a make-or-break opportunity of the highest magnitude, especially for someone like you just starting out. Either you nailed your responsibilities tomorrow, or it all came crashing down in front of Chicago's most elite gourmands.
Shoving aside the sudden flutters of doubt, you met Harry's inscrutable gaze head-on, straightening your spine. "You know I am. We've put in the work, and this dish is gonna blow them all away."
A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his sculpted mouth as he studied you appraisingly. "That's what I like to hear. Just remember - all the technique practice in the world won't mean a thing if you panic out there."
The subtle warning made you bristle defensively, never one to back down from a challenge. "I'm not going to panic," you scoffed. "I eat massive amounts of public pressure like this for breakfast."
Harry's eyes danced with amusement, and not for the first time, it struck you how effortlessly he could switch between imposing and playful. "Is that so?" he drawled easily. "In that case, would you care to make things a bit more interesting?"
Before you could respond, Harry kicked off from the desk in one sinuous motion to prowl closer. Despite your weariness, you felt your heart rate kick up several notches as he invaded your personal space, long body coiled with a loose, predatory grace.
"Let's say we raise the stakes a little," he proposed in a tone of studied nonchalance that was completely belied by the heated glint in his eyes boring into yours. "If you can prove you've got the chops to keep a cool head under fire tomorrow, I'll take you out afterwards to celebrate. Just you and me, anywhere you want to go."
Your mouth went instantly dry at the implications behind his offer. Were those...the unmistakable undertones of flirtation coloring his invitation? After the weeks of him keeping things strictly professional between you, the sudden shift was dizzying - and left you dangerously intrigued.
"And what if I choke?" you heard yourself countering recklessly before you could reconsider. "What do you get out of it then?"
His answering smile was pure blistering sin. "Oh, sweetheart. If that happens...I get to take you out too - but somewhere a bit more private."
Harry paused to let the suggestive proposition linger, backing it up with a slow, heated raking of his pale eyes over your body that left zero doubt as to his implication. Heat bloomed furiously across your cheeks as forbidden images flooded your mind unbidden - flashes of tangled limbs, straining muscle, sweaty exertion of a far different sort...
Then, just like that, the provoking spell was broken. Rocking back on his heels, Harry shrugged one broad shoulder in an easy, dismissive gesture. "But that's not going to happen, is it? You've got all the skills, you've put in the time - no reason to buckle tomorrow."
He threw one final weighted glance in your direction before pivoting on his heel towards the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you at the venue early to do our final walkthrough before we get this show on the road."
And with that parting comment, Harry strode casually out, leaving you rooted there in dumbfounded silence. What the hell had just happened? One moment, you'd merely been steeling yourselves for tomorrow's high stakes challenge - and then suddenly he was issuing some bizarrely flirtatious...proposition.
Or was that really what it was? As you stood there chasing replays of his words, his tone, his body language - the whole previous interaction kept taking on a slinkier, more salacious cast. Like maybe your presence of mind was slipping already, causing you to read into things that weren't really there.
No...no, you decided as you hefted your bag, determined to put it all out of your head for now. Harry was just his usual aggravating self, trying to rile you by dangling some imagined reward or punishment to keep you on your toes before the big event. This whole...suggestive semiflirtation thing was just the product of your own exhausted mind playing tricks.  
Firmly shoving aside all unsettling thoughts, you focused on the immediate challenge awaiting tomorrow. You would plate Harry's showpiece dish to absolute perfection, prove yourself under the brightest lights, and decisively seize this career-making opportunity. 
Everything else could be dealt with later.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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mynameismad · 2 months ago
Text
What have I been up to?????
Hey all! I'm sure you're all cycling rapidly through the stages of grief like I am, but I thought I'd just check in and let everyone know what's going on with me and when they can expect more comics!
GOOD NEWS: I got a concept art job! I've been working freelance for a client for about two months now and things are going great! Honestly working on short assignments with weekly deadlines has been an amazing break from the slow, constant march of longform comics. I am surprising myself every day and haven't been this excited to learn and grow as an artist in a very long time. Moving forward, I would like to find a full time job in games and stay there, rather than continuing to hustle full-time in comics. I've paused my Patreon for the foreseeable future.
THAT BEING SAID: I will always be making comics!!!!!! I love them a lot, they've been good to me, and I have all these ideas in my head that NEED to be let out. I want to start making them in my own time, rather than as my main source of income. We'll see how long it takes to find true stability in concept (maybe never, lol) but in the meantime I will keep drawing my silly little guys and posting them online for everyone to see. I have to! I have to keep going and making the art I want to see in the world! We have to keep going!!!!
SAKANA: hoping to get back to the fish boys sooner rather than later. I've been stuck on whether to end the latest chapter right away or get a few more pages in there. We're moving into a HEAVY part of the plot, which will be trickier to write, so I've been procrastinating lol. Please don't take my extended absence as proof that I'm walking away from the story: I've just been busy with a new job and I don't know exactly how to get to the next chapter yet!! (also, jsyk, the Webtoon mirror is something I was doing for fun! not a priority!!)
RR: I actually have a few different projects started for RR! Chapter 2 is like 9 pages in, but then I paused and started work on a 20ish page minicomic, which is like 7 pages in. I'm going to finish the mini first and hopefully upload it to itch.io. For Chapter 2, I created this really elaborate environment in an effort to force myself to learn Blender, but then I got a job....so I have no time to learn Blender lol. Still trying to figure out whether to simplify or push forward.
OTHER: yeah...I am a comic artist at heart so obviously I have a million things I want to do. But SAKANA and RR are the highest priority right now!
UPCOMING: I am pursuing other freelance work for shorter, more manageable projects! If you need somebody to redline all your thumbnails, critique the first draft of your synopsis, or make a 20-40 page comic, please keep me in mind!
In closing: I'm locking my twitter accounts tonight and moving away from the platform for now. I'll be here, Instagram (@/mad_rupert), and BlueSky (@/madrupert). Thanks for sticking with me, let's hold onto and support each other in the coming weeks, months, and years! Let's keep going!!!!! I love you all so much!!!
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