#even if everything was through a screen and text

[lizziesangel]

hi lizzie, i just love your writing!! thank you for keeping us well fed! if you haven’t already, could you possibly write soft!rafe taking care of drunk reader? maybe it’s early into their relationship & this is the first time she’s seeing a softer side of him & maybe she’s a little embarrassed having to be taken care of but also secretly loves it!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

she/her, mid 20’s, maybe not rafe’s typical skinny blonde model type 🧎‍♀️

thank you, sweet angel! i hope you enjoy your fic!✨

the night had started out innocently enough. kie’s birthday party was in full swing, her backyard strung with twinkling fairy lights and filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. you weren’t much of a drinker, but tonight felt like an exception. kie had insisted you try her signature cocktail—something fruity and deceptively strong—and from there, the drinks had kept coming.

you’d been having a great time—kie and her friends always threw the best parties, and tonight was no exception. you’d been having a great time—a little too great of a time.

by midnight, you were feeling… light. maybe a little too light. your cheeks felt hot, your laugh was louder than usual, and walking in a straight line felt like a fun challenge. it wasn’t until the party started winding down that you realized you might have overdone it.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, your phone in hand, squinting at the screen. it was late, but you figured your parents wouldn’t mind a quick call to pick you up. the idea of stumbling into an uber with a stranger was less appealing now that the alcohol was hitting way harder than you anticipated. you dialed their number, listening to the rings, only to be met with a voicemail.

you frowned, dialing once more. still no answer.

then a text pinged through: "at a business party tonight. won’t be able to answer—call us tomorrow. we love you!"

you sighed, your thumb hovering over the screen. the party was getting just a bit too chaotic for your liking now, and the thought of getting some fresh air sounded amazing. it wasn’t like you lived far, anyway. ten minutes tops, you thought to yourself, tugging your jacket tighter around your shoulders.

“leaving already?” kiara asked, catching you by the door. her smile was bright.

“yeah, just tired,” you said, waving it off with a lopsided grin. “i’ll be fine. it’s a quick walk.”

she nodded, “text me when you’re home, okay?”

you nodded, giving her a thumbs-up before slipping out into the cool night air.

the silence outside was a welcome contrast to the noise you’d left behind. the streets were dimly lit, but familiar. you shoved your hands in your pockets and started down the sidewalk, humming softly to yourself, the buzz of the alcohol making everything seem a little less real.

the soft rumble of an engine broke the quiet night, the glow of headlights sweeping over the sidewalk as a familiar black SUV slowed down beside you. you glanced up, squinting against the light, and your heart skipped when the window rolled down to reveal rafe leaning slightly toward the passenger side.

“what the hell are you doing out here?” his voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the street. his brows were furrowed, a mix of confusion and something else—concern? “i thought your parents were coming to get you.”

you stopped, suddenly hyperaware of your slightly unsteady stance on the pavement. “they couldn’t,” you slurred, waving your hand dismissively. “they’re at some work thing. it’s just a ten-minute wa—i’ll be... fine.”

his jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching. “fine? you’re drunk, walking home by yourself in the middle of the night. do you even hear yourself right now?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, rafe leaned across and pushed the passenger door open. “get in. now.”

there was no arguing with the tone of his voice, not that you were in much of a position to resist. you hesitated for half a second before climbing into the seat, the leather cool against your legs. he waited until you were buckled in before pulling away from the curb, the tension in the car palpable.

the silence stretched for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low but firm. “next time, call me. don’t ever do that again. don’t walk home alone when you’ve been drinking.”

you blinked at him, your head still spinning a little from the alcohol. “rafe, it’s the outer banks, have you seen this island? t-there’s, like... no crime here. ever.”

he glanced at you, his lips pressing into a tight line. “i don’t care. what if something happened to you? what if you tripped, or someone—” he cut himself off, shaking his head as if the thought itself was unbearable. “just call me, okay? no excuses. i don’t care what time it is or where you are. i’ll come get you.”

something in his tone made your chest tighten, the weight of his words sinking in. he wasn’t just scolding you—he meant it.

“okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“good.” he glanced at you again, his features softening just a fraction. “because i don’t want to find you wandering around in the dark again. got it?”

“got it,” you murmured, biting back a smile as you sank into the seat.

the air in the car was thick with unspoken words, the quiet punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of rafe’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. normally, rafe exuded this effortless, untouchable cool—sarcastic remarks, teasing smirks, and that air of confidence he wore like a second skin.

but tonight, something was different.

he wasn’t making jokes. he wasn’t brushing anything off. he looked serious, his jaw tight and his gaze focused on the road ahead as his hands gripped the wheel a little harder than necessary.

you stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye, your head leaning against the window. even with your buzzed haze, you could tell this wasn’t the rafe you were used to. this was… softer. more vulnerable, maybe.

when you noticed he wasn’t driving toward your place, your brow furrowed. “i don’t think this is the way to my house.”

“i know, baby,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not sleeping alone tonight. it’s not safe. you’re coming to mine.”

your mouth opened, but no sound came out. you hadn’t expected that. “rafe, i’m fine—”

“don’t,” he cut you off, glancing at you with a raised brow. “don’t argue. you’ve had too much to drink, you’re not thinking straight, and i’m not dropping you off so you’re home by yourself.”

“end of story.”

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. he didn’t sound annoyed or inconvenienced. he sounded… protective. like he cared more than you ever thought he would. it was such a stark contrast to the laid-back rafe you’d come to know that it left you momentarily speechless.

as he turned into the long driveway leading to his family’s sprawling house, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“come on,” he said gently, holding out a hand to help you. “let’s get you inside.”

he led you upstairs with quiet confidence, his hand hovering near your back as if ready to steady you at any moment. the house was quiet, the distant hum of the air conditioning the only sound apart from your slightly uneven steps. when you entered his room, you hesitated, looking around the surprisingly clean space.

“sit,” he said gently, motioning to the edge of his bed. you obeyed, sinking into the soft comforter, and watched as he disappeared into the bathroom.

he came back a moment later with a cotton pad, a bottle of makeup remover, and a damp washcloth. “sarah leaves her stuff everywhere,” he said with a faint smirk, kneeling in front of you. “you can use this to take your makeup off. trust me, you don’t want to sleep in it.”

you blinked at him, surprised. “you… know about makeup remover?”

rafe gave a small shrug. “sarah’s made me her go-to errand boy enough times. i pick up things.” his voice was casual, but the way he handed you the cotton pad was almost… delicate, making you smile.

you swiped the pad across your face, your movements slow but steady, while rafe stayed there, crouched in front of you like he was waiting to catch you if you suddenly tipped over. when you were done, he handed you a glass of water and a toothbrush, his blue eyes meeting yours with quiet insistence. “drink all of this, and brush your teeth. trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

after finishing in the bathroom, you came back to find a neatly folded T-shirt and sweatpants sitting on the bed.

“you can change into these,” he said, standing a little awkwardly near the door. “they’ll be more comfortable than whatever you’re wearing.”

“thanks,” you said softly, picking up the clothes.

but when you tried to slip the his sweatpants on, your buzzed coordination made it nearly impossible. you fumbled, the fabric tangling around your legs as you tried to balance on one foot. “ugh,” you huffed in frustration.

rafe turned at the sound, his brows furrowing. “need help?”

you hesitated, your cheeks flushing. “uh, i think so,” you admitted quietly, feeling embarrassment creep up your spine.

he nodded, stepping closer, his expression careful and respectful. “okay,” he said simply, kneeling down. “just… hold on to my shoulder, and i’ll help you with these. don’t worry—i’m not looking.”

true to his word, he kept his eyes down, focusing only on pulling the sweatpants over your legs as you wobbled slightly, your hand gripping his shoulder for balance. his touch was steady and deliberate, not lingering even a second longer than necessary.

when he was done, he stood and stepped back, giving you space. “there,” he said, his voice softer now. “all set.”

“thanks,” you murmured, tugging at the hem of the shirt you were now wearing. it hung on you like a dress, the faint scent of cedar and something clean wrapping around you.

“you should lie down,” he said, pulling back the covers on his bed.

you blinked at him. “where are you sleeping?”

“i’ll, uh... take the couch,” he said automatically, but the words didn’t feel as confident as the rest of him.

“rafe,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “this bed is huge. there’s plenty of space for both of us.”

his brows lifted slightly, and for a second, he looked like he might argue. but then he nodded, his jaw relaxing as he grabbed a pillow and placed it on the opposite side of the bed. “okay,” he said, his voice dropping to something quieter. “but don’t hog the covers.”

you laughed softly, slipping under the blanket as he did the same. The space between you felt safe—close enough to feel his warmth but far enough to respect boundaries.

as you settled in, you turned your head toward him. “hey?”

“yeah?” he replied, his voice low in the dark.

“thank you,” you whispered.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. then his voice came, soft and genuine. “anytime.”

And with that, the quiet comfort of his presence lulled you to sleep, leaving you with the lingering thought that this side of rafe was something you could get used to.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⟢ MASTERLIST

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey ⟢ @user28388727 ⟢ @jznyy ⟢

[pandapetals]

Sexting

Logan's been gone on a mission for days now. You miss him terribly and one little text spirals into sexting.

logan howlett x fem!reader - inspired by a tiktok i saw, teasing banter, sexting, flirting, established relationship, smut, phone sex, masturbation, orgasms, dirty talk, cocky logan, dominant/possessive logan, pet names used, good girl praising

a/n: horny era entered.

divider credit: @enchanthings

The day had dragged on, each hour stretching longer than the last. Between the endless grind at work, the knot of stress coiling tighter in your chest, and nearly everyone testing the limits of your patience, you felt utterly wrung out. By the time the sun sank below the horizon, all you wanted was to melt into Logan’s arms—strong, steady, and always warm, like they were built to shield you from the rest of the world.

But Logan wasn’t here. He’d been sent off on a mission three days ago with no clear answer to the question that gnawed at you the most: When would he come home? Three days felt like three weeks, and the ache of missing him was a dull, constant hum beneath your skin.

You had done everything you could to fill the space he left behind. His pillow now wore one of his shirts, the fabric soft and faintly infused with his scent. You’d sprayed it with his cologne—too much, honestly, but the sharp, musky notes helped. At night, you’d curl around it, imagining his arms around you instead, but it was never the same. You missed the rough timbre of his voice, the way he’d smirk and toss out some gruff remark that made you laugh. You even missed how his scruff would scrape against your cheek when he kissed you.

Now, you were sprawled across the bed, Logan’s stand-in pillow hugged close as your thumb aimlessly scrolled through your phone. A familiar pang of longing twisted your stomach as you stumbled across a photo of a couple kissing under twinkling lights. You sighed and were about to toss your phone aside when it buzzed in your hand, a new message lighting up the screen.

Logan: I miss you so much, gorgeous.

Your heart clenched, a smile tugging at your lips before you could help it. You quickly typed back:

You: Miss you too, handsome.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, the ache of missing him pressing harder than ever. A mischievous thought sparked in your mind, and before you could second-guess yourself, you typed it out.

You: You should send me a photo of your bicep for being gone so long.

The typing bubble appeared almost instantly, and you could practically hear Logan’s low chuckle in your head.

Logan: That so?

Before you could reply, your phone buzzed, and a new image loaded on the screen. The photo made your breath hitch. Logan was sprawled out on what looked like a worn motel bed, his shirt pushed up to his chest, exposing the hard ridges of his abs. But the star of the show was his arm, flexed in a way that showed off every curve of his bicep. The dim lighting cast shadows that deepened the definition of his muscles, and the veins stood out just enough to make your mouth dry.

You swallowed, your face heating as you bit your lip. His usual teasing smirk wasn’t visible in the photo, but you could feel it like it was carved into the very pixels of the screen.

Another message buzzed in.

Logan: Feel better, honey?

You groaned, the grin tugging at your lips both frustrated and helplessly smitten.

You: No. Now I just really want to bite your bicep.

His reply came faster than you expected.

Logan: You’ll have to be patient, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll let you.

Your stomach flipped, heat pooling low in your belly as you stared at his words. God, you could hear his voice so clearly, that deep, teasing rasp that always made your pulse skip.

You: You’re cruel, you know that?

Logan: Cruel would be reminding you how good my hands feel on you. But I won’t do that. Not while I’m stuck in this dump, thinking about what I’d do if I were there instead.

Your breath caught, and your thumb hovered uncertainly over the screen. You could feel the shift in his tone, that familiar heat creeping into his words even through text.

You: What would you do, Logan?

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared, like he was taking his time to think—or maybe to make you squirm. When his reply finally came, it hit you like a jolt of lightning.

Logan: First, I’d pin you to the bed. Then I’d take my time—slow, deliberate—just to hear you beg. You’d look so good under me, darlin’. I can practically see it.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, heat rolling through you in waves.

You: You’re not playing fair.

Logan: I never do. 

You couldn’t argue with that. Every word, every teasing reply, every memory of his hands on you was like a match to dry kindling, leaving you aching for him in almost unbearable ways. You leaned back against the pillows, closing your eyes as your fingers hovered over your phone, your imagination already running wild.

Before you could think of a reply, your phone buzzed again.

Logan: I miss your body, but you know what I miss more? The way you look at me after. That soft, sleepy, satisfied look, like I’m the only man in the world who can make you feel that way.

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest and mingling with the heat already simmering there. God, you wanted him so badly it was a physical ache.

You: You’re going to kill me, Logan.

Logan: Nah, honey. Just keeping you hungry for me. Trust me, I’m starving over here too.

His words wrapped around you like a warm, possessive embrace, filling the void he’d left behind. Though hundreds of miles separated you, for a moment, it almost felt like he was there—his rough hands sliding over your skin, his lips grazing that sensitive spot just beneath your jaw, the weight of his body. The ache of missing him was unbearable, pressing hard and heavy in your chest. You buried your face in his pillow, inhaling the faint remnants of his scent, but it only made the longing sharper.

Your thumb hovered over the screen as you finally typed back, giving in to your own need to feel closer to him:

You: I’ve been sleeping with your pillow... making it wear your shirt.

The reply came almost immediately, his words brimming with that familiar mix of teasing and heat that sent a thrill rushing through you.

Logan: Bet you’ve been doing naughty things to it too.

Your breath caught, your face flushing as you stared at the screen. Damn him. How did he always know? He had an almost supernatural ability to read you, even from miles away. You bit your lip, the memory of those late, lonely nights flashing vividly in your mind—the way you’d pressed his pillow between your thighs, imagining it was him, imagining his weight, his heat, his voice in your ear telling you to let go. You knew when he got home, he’d take one deep inhale and know exactly what you’d done.

Your fingers trembled as you typed back, heart pounding.

You: Maybe I have. What are you gonna do about it?

The three little dots of his reply appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared, drawing out the tension until you wanted to scream. When the message finally popped up, it was pure Logan.

Logan: Oh, sweetheart, you know what I’ll do. First, I’ll ask you to tell me exactly what you did. Then I’d make you show me. And I wouldn’t let you stop until you were begging.

Heat shot through your body, pooling low in your belly as you shifted restlessly on the bed. Your lips parted, a soft breath escaping as your imagination ran wild, conjuring the image of him above you, his rough hands and deep voice taking you apart piece by piece.

You glanced at your phone’s camera, a bold idea sparking in your mind. If Logan wanted to play, you’d show him you could hold your own. Slowly, you sat up, slipping the strap of your tank top down one shoulder. The fabric slid lower, exposing more of your skin, and your pulse raced as you positioned the camera just right. The click of the shutter sounded louder than it should have, your heart hammering as you looked at the result—a sultry shot of your bare shoulder, collarbone, and the faintest hint of cleavage.

You attached the photo to the message and typed, fingers trembling slightly:

You: Think you can handle this when you get home?

The response came almost instantly, and it was clear you’d hit your mark.

Logan: Jesus Christ, darlin’!

A second message followed:

Logan: You trying to kill me?

You smirked, a wave of confidence washing over you as you typed back.

You: Just keeping you on your toes. You’re the one who said you’d pin me down, remember?

His reply was a voice note this time, and when you pressed play, the low, gravelly sound of his voice sent a shiver straight through you.

Logan (voice note): Oh, I remember. And trust me when I get back, you won’t be walking straight for days. You keep teasing me like this, and I’m gonna make sure you pay for every second of it.

Your thighs clenched as you listened to the raw hunger in his tone, heat blooming across your skin. But you weren’t done teasing him yet.

You adjusted your tank top a little lower, this time snapping a photo that showed more—the curve of your chest, the line of your neck, the look in your eyes that you knew would drive him wild. You sent it without a caption, letting the image speak for itself.

The reply came in seconds.

Logan: You better not be touching yourself right now. That’s mine.

A thrill ran through you at the possessiveness in his words.

You: What if I am?

Another voice note came through, this one darker. His voice dropped an octave, sending goosebumps racing down your arms.

Logan (voice note): Don’t you dare finish without me, sweetheart. When I get home, you’re going to come on my fingers, my tongue, and then my—

You couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped out as you hit pause, your whole body burning with need.

You: Logan...

Logan: You started this, gorgeous. Don’t get shy on me now.

You sighed, biting your lip as your fingers tightened around your phone. Heat simmered low in your belly, and your heart raced as you debated your next move. Logan was right—you had started this, and now there was no turning back. Your thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, your nerves threatening to get the better of you, but the longing for him—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at you—overpowered everything else.

With a deep breath, you hit the video call button. The screen flickered for a moment, your reflection briefly staring back at you before the call connected. And then there he was.

Logan appeared on your screen, lying back against the headboard of some cheap motel bed. The light in the room was dim, but it did nothing to dull the sharp angles of his jaw or the piercing heat in his eyes. He had one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other holding the phone, but there was nothing casual about how he looked at you—like he could devour you through the screen.

A slow, almost predatory smirk curved his lips. “There’s my pretty girl. For a second, I thought you’d chickened out.”

You swallowed hard, the sound of his voice making your pulse race. “You’ve got me all flustered,” you admitted, your voice softer than you intended.

Logan’s chuckle was low and rough like gravel sliding over honey. “Sweetheart, you’re the one teasing me,” he said, his gaze raking over you through the screen. “All I did was tell you what I wanted to do when I get home. But if I’m being honest…” His smirk widened, his tongue sliding briefly over his bottom lip. “I don’t think either one of us can wait that long.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. He shifted slightly, and the movement made his shirt pull tight across his chest and shoulders, the fabric doing little to hide the hard lines of muscle underneath. You let out a breath.

“Logan…” you whispered, but it came out more like a plea than you intended.

His voice softened, the teasing giving way to something more intimate. “Yeah, darlin’?”

Your fingers gripped the phone tighter as you adjusted the angle, letting the camera catch the way your tank top clung to your body, how the strap had slipped off one shoulder. His eyes darkened instantly, the air between you thickening even through the distance.

“Show me,” he murmured, his tone low and commanding. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night. Now I want to see you, pretty girl. Let me see what’s mine.”

Your breath hitched, heat flooding your cheeks, but how he was looking at you made it impossible to resist. Slowly, your free hand trailed down your neck and over your collarbone, lingering at the edge of your top. His gaze tracked every movement, his jaw clenching as he exhaled heavily.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his voice like a caress. “Keep going.”

You couldn’t help the small, breathy sound that escaped your lips as you let the fabric slide lower, revealing just enough to leave him wanting more. His hand moved slightly on his end of the screen, and you had a pretty good idea of what he was doing.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with nervousness and excitement.

“Don’t stop,” he urged, his tone rougher now, filled with a hunger that sent a rush of heat straight through you. “You’re so fucking beautiful. God, I can’t wait to get my hands on you again.”

Your fingers trembled as you slid your tank top down, the cool air brushing over your bare skin, making your breath hitch. Logan’s eyes burned into you through the screen, the teasing smirk on his lips softening into something darker, more primal. His gaze wasn’t just hungry—it was devouring like he wanted to memorize every inch of you even from miles away.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat blooming under his praise, but it only fueled the fire building inside you. Biting your lip, you whispered, “Show me what you’re doing.”

The words came out so soft you weren’t sure he’d heard you, but then his lips curved into a wicked grin that made your stomach flip. “You sure about that, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone rough and teasing.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your pulse thundering in your ears.

Logan shifted slightly, the phone shaking just enough to make your anticipation climb. He adjusted the angle, tilting the camera lower until the frame revealed the sharp lines of his abs disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Your breath caught as he pulled the fabric down just enough to show you the outline of his arousal, his hand wrapped around himself, moving slowly, deliberately.

“See what you do to me?” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. His hand stroked lazily, his movements unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every second of it. “Every damn time, darlin’. I can’t even think straight when it comes to you.”

Your heart stuttered, your thighs pressing together instinctively as heat pooled low in your belly. The sight of him, the way his body tensed with every stroke, the way his breath hitched as he watched you—it was almost too much.

“Logan…” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Keep going,” he rasped, his eyes flickering back up to meet yours. They were dark and intense, filled with raw hunger. “I want to see all of you, gorgeous. Don’t hold back on me now.” 

Your free hand drifted down your body with deliberate slowness, tracing the curves of your waist and the soft plane of your stomach, until your fingertips brushed the waistband of your underwear. The fabric felt impossibly delicate under your touch, and your breath hitched as you let your fingers linger there, teasing both yourself and him.

Logan’s eyes burned through the screen, dark and hungry, following every movement of your hand. His jaw tightened, and you saw the flex of his arm as his strokes grew just a bit faster, his breath hitching in rhythm. The tension between you was unbearable, a crackling heat that made the distance between you feel almost cruel.

“Don’t stop,” Logan rasped, his voice rough and uneven. “I need to see you. All of you.”

The raw need in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, your pulse pounding as you slowly tilted the phone. The angle shifted, and the screen filled with the sight of your bare skin, the way your hand dipped beneath the fabric of your underwear, teasing at the heat there. A soft, breathless sound slipped from your lips as your fingers began to move, exploring yourself with slow, deliberate strokes.

Logan groaned a low, guttural sound that sent a wave of heat washing over you. “Fuck, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice thick with need. His phone shifted slightly, and your eyes flicked to the screen to see his hand moving more urgently now, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “You’re so goddamn beautiful. Look at you… so wet for me.”

The heat of his words made your thighs tremble as your body arched instinctively, your hand moving in sync with the rising tension in his voice. The soft, wet sounds of your fingers moving against your slick heat filled the air between you, and you bit your lip, trying—and failing—to muffle the needy whimper that escaped.

“That’s it, good girl,” Logan growled, his tone both commanding and reverent. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you. I want to see what I do to you.”

Your phone slipped slightly in your trembling hand, but you steadied it, angling it just enough to give him the view he craved. His reaction was instant—a sharp intake of breath, followed by a string of curses muttered under his breath.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his hand faltering for a moment as he dragged his free hand through his hair, his head falling back against the headboard. “I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on you.

Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips. “What would you do, Logan?” you asked in a shaky whisper.

His eyes darkened further, his expression turning almost feral. “I’d start by kissing you everywhere,” he growled. “Slow, soft, until you’re trembling for me. Then I’d pin your wrists above your head, hold you still so you’d have to feel every second of it while screaming my name.”

Your head fell back against the pillows as his words washed over you, the heat in his voice lighting up every nerve in your body.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart,” he urged, his tone both commanding and coaxing. “Such a good girl for me.”

His words pushed you closer to the edge, the ache in your body growing unbearable as your fingers moved faster, your breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. “Logan,” you whimpered, his name a broken plea on your lips.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice low and rough like he could feel your tension through the screen. “I want to see it. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”

“You’re killing me,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

His lips curved into a crooked, breathless smile. “You started it, gorgeous,” he said, his voice rough and uneven now. “And when I get home, I’m gonna finish it. Properly.”

The promise in his tone sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body aching for him in ways that words couldn’t begin to describe. But for now, this was all you had—his voice, his eyes on you, the sound of his breath growing heavier as the two of you shared this moment across the distance.

“Logan…” you whimpered again, your body arching as you felt yourself reaching the edge.

“Let go for me. Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

The heat in his tone, the intensity of his gaze, the way his hand was moving on himself—it all pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, a sharp gasp slipping from your lips as the wave of release crashed over you, your hand faltering as you rode it out. Logan groaned deeply, his own release following seconds after, his head falling back as his chest heaved.

For a few moments, the two of you were silent, your breaths filling the space between you. Logan was the first to speak, his voice softer now, tinged with satisfaction and lingering desire. “Goddammit,” he muttered, his voice husky and low. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

You laughed breathlessly, your body still buzzing, your heart full. “I could say the same about you, handsome,” you teased, though your voice was still shaky.

He shook his head, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours through the screen. “You better be ready,” he said, his tone playful but underlined with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. “Because when I get back, I’m not letting you out of my sight—or my bed—for a very, very long time.”

“Promise?” you asked, your lips curving into a lazy, satisfied smile.

Logan’s grin turned wicked, his eyes gleaming. “Oh, it’s not a promise. It’s a guarantee.”

[scented-morker]

୨୧ Whoops 𓂃 ♥︎

idol!riki x idol!reader, fem!reader, secret relationship, riki is a little too used to taking care of you… 950 words ft. Mark Lee cameo 🫶

Award show season in the kpop industry was one of the most fun parts of your job.

You spent hours preparing stages and dance breaks with your group, trying on beautiful dress after beautiful dress, and of course texting your boyfriend Riki for spoilers on his stages.

You: Pleaseeeeee 🙏 I’ll send you a picture of my red carpet dress if you tell me

Riki: you should probably do that anyway 🤭 Jungwon said last show I stared too much but I was just so shocked, you looked so pretty

You: YOU WERE SHOCKED??? DO I NOT NORMALLY LOOK PRETTY???

Riki: Ok crazy I DID NOT SAY THAT

You: blocked.

You were joking around, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had noticed him staring when you walked past his group and hadn’t been able to stop your blush even after his leader had smacked him to knock it off.

Your own leader had made up an excuse to yank you back to the makeup artist in an attempt to offset your red face.

Fans absolutely caught the whole thing on camera, and you two were viral for a week.

That was the non fun part of award season— trying to pretend you weren’t completely smitten with the beautiful boy on stage.

Everytime Riki performed you wanted to jump out of your seat and scream your head off.

You were dating the world’s most talented boy and couldn’t even show it… especially since your company had made you go through extra media training to avoid it happening again.

As much as you hated keeping it a secret, you hated to see your boyfriend getting hate even more, so you focused on controlling yourself around the cameras.

When the camera panned to your group during the Enhypen performance on New Years Eve, you calmly smiled and nodded your head to the beat of XO. Your leader gave you a discreet high five as soon as the screen refocused on the boys, and you glowed with pride.

Riki had done well for the most part as well, managing to look like he really liked the song you were performing and not like he was losing his mind over your leather outfit.

Everything was going perfectly smooth until the very end of the show.

You were crammed onto the stage with what seemed like every single idol that has ever debuted.

You bow as you once again bump into one of your seniors, glad when they give you a quick hug and wave off your apology.

It’s almost midnight, and you look around the stage in an attempt to find the rest of your group who you haven’t seen in at least five minutes.

You laugh to yourself when you spot your boyfriend immediately, his head peeking over the rest of the crowd due to his sheer height.

He spots you and raises an eyebrow at you in question, but you don’t even attempt to explain your panicked look, knowing the interaction would get caught and analyzed hundreds of times.

Instead you start walking towards his general direction, making sure to look just enough to the side that people won’t think you’re approaching him.

You hope your group is somewhere near his, thinking your age and popularity were similar enough for the directors to place you beside each other.

There’s music playing over the speakers as you continue looking around for someone you recognize. Idols start dancing around in excitement, and you’re once again jostled as you make your way through the crowd.

A particularly excited Mark Lee accidentally backs up into you, bumping you what feels like halfway across the stage, and you’re fully expecting to hit the ground from the impact.

You internally groan at the videos that are surely going to be everywhere in a few hours, and you try to make sure you don’t accidentally flash anyone when you fall.

But instead of hitting the ground how you were expecting, you find yourself against a familiar body with an arm around your waist.

A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling, and you don’t even need to turn around to know Riki is behind you.

You quickly untangle yourself from him, turning and bowing deeply to him.

“Thank you for catching me.”

He mirrors your body language, lifting his head to peer into your eyes, his own soft and full of concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, standing back up and knowing you’re screwed.

A quick glance behind him shows Jungwon with wide eyes and Heeseung losing his mind laughing at the two of you being horrible relationship hiders.

You bow to them as well, although you make a mental note to yell at Heeseung the next time you see him.

Mark Lee chooses that moment to come up to you with a red face and sheepish smile as he apologizes profusely and Haechan laughs behind him.

You accept it quickly, wanting to get out of the area and horrible situation as soon as possible.

You’re grateful when your leader finally approaches you, looking between you, Mark, and Riki with terrified eyes.

“I’ll explain later.” You whisper as she grabs your arm and the two of you quickly exit towards the other part of the stage.

When you wake up the next day it’s to multiple texts from your manager, two calls from your boyfriend, and a Dispatch article featuring the photo of Riki holding you against him in the middle of the stage.

Whoops.

[usoinked]

Hii! I love your last jey fic with him being possessive! Could you pls do one where he & the reader get into a fight over her being insecure with his story line with Rhea so he keeps her in their hotel for a whole weekend to show her who he truly wants. Maybe some toxic comments like "you think she gets this dick ma? Nah only you"

Love your writing!! Hope this makes sense haha <3

Omggg thank you so much and ofc!! Y’all know I love writing about Jey 🫶🏽🌚

CW: Toxicity, Arguing, Begging, Praising 18+ MDNI, SMUT, cursing, use of n word, unprotected p in v, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k+

You and Jey Uso were in a 2 year relationship, going on 3 years and for the most part everything was fine….was. There were always the usual bumps—scheduling conflicts, long road trips, and the occasional argument—but you had always managed to work through them. The love between you both was solid, built on mutual respect and understanding. That was, until the recent storyline with Rhea Ripley started to change everything.

At first, you could brush it off. You knew that wrestling was just that—wrestling. A scripted, fictionalized world where interactions were meant to stir emotions and get fans invested in the show. You were okay with that. You understood the boundaries and had even joked about how you’d have to share Jey with his fans and his colleagues. But something felt different this time. Rhea wasn’t just a colleague—there was something in the way she interacted with Jey that rubbed you the wrong way. It wasn’t just friendly banter; it was flirtation, and you couldn’t ignore it.

It started small—a teasing smile, a lighthearted comment during interviews, or the occasional touch on his arm after a segment. You told yourself it was just for the cameras. But the more you watched, the more it became clear that there was more to it than that. Every time Jey was near Rhea, he would act differently—more animated, more playful, more engaged. The two of them seemed to have a connection that went beyond the usual working relationship, and it left you feeling…uneasy.

Weeks passed, and the playful flirtation continued. Rhea would smile at him in a way that made you feel like you weren’t even in the room. The way her eyes lingered on him, the way her hand would rest on his shoulder a little too long, the way she laughed at his jokes—it wasn’t normal. It felt personal, and you started to feel like you were on the outside looking in. The jealousy was subtle at first, but as time went on, it began to eat at you more and more. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more between them, something you weren’t being told.

You were currently at the apartment you both shared when you saw a segment on your screen involving Jey and Rhea Ripley…again….she was cool at first until Jey and her started flirting back and forth. You knew that this was his job, but that still didn’t make you any less jealous…insecure even. The way she smiled at him when he made the motion to call him, the way she looked him up and down while smiling at him because of his appearance alone, and especially them being that close….it was enough to make you want to turn your tv off. You wanted to watch your man wrestle and look good but not while he was flirting with another female. Fuck no. Not only was it pissing you off, but Jey wasn’t answering his phone after the show ended. Granted you did give him a 30 minute grace period in case he had any dark matches or needed to pack up anything extra…but then it became 45….then an hour…then two hours. You might’ve been born at night but not last night.

Jey had always made an effort to check in after the show, even if it was late. He’d send you a text, make sure you were okay, let you know that he was thinking of you. But recently, that was happening less and less. He’d be busy after the shows—either with the crew or on his phone—and by the time you tried to reach him, his phone was either off or set to “Do Not Disturb.” You tried not to overthink it, but the frustration was building. And the anger was showing.

You sent him a long grueling text message full of swearing making sure he knew how pissed off you were. As much as you were pissed, you were also hurt. Ever since he’d started that storyline with Rhea, it began to seem like the same game over and over again. They would both flirt with each other on camera and then Jey’s plans of calling you after the show seemed to never have existed to begin with. Your face got hotter and hotter every time you thought about it and soon enough, came the tears. Your eyes began to water and slightly sting as the tears fell down your face. You made your way to the bathroom, the cool tiles under your feet offering little comfort as you moved. You grabbed your blue washcloth and ran warm water over it, squeezing out the excess before pressing it gently to your face. The warmth helped to soothe the sting in your eyes, but it didn’t take away the emotions swirling inside of you. You needed to feel something else, anything else. “Stupid ass nigga bruh” you sighed out after taking the rag off your face gently and putting your pink shower cap on, stuffing your braids underneath it.

Turning the water on for the shower, you let the steam fill the room. The sound of the water hitting the tiles was oddly calming, a gentle rhythm that drowned out everything else. You undressed slowly, as if peeling away the layers of frustration and hurt with each item of clothing that hit the floor. Stepping into the shower, the hot water cascaded down over your body, washing away the lingering tension in your muscles but not the ache in your heart.

As you stood there under the spray, you let the water pour over your face, the heat sinking into your skin. It felt like the shower was a way to cleanse not just your body but your mind. The emotions of the night—the jealousy, the anger, the hurt—flooded out of you, but they didn’t leave. They just sat there, heavy, under the surface, simmering quietly. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts of Jey and Rhea out of your head, even for just a moment.

The sound of the water became a small comfort, but it couldn’t block the pain that lingered behind it. Your mind kept drifting back to him, to the moments when you’d felt ignored, pushed aside. Why didn’t he understand? Why didn’t he see how this was affecting you? You didn’t want to keep playing this game, but it felt like he wasn’t even trying to meet you halfway.

You finished your shower with a deep sigh, letting the water wash the worst of your frustration away. But the truth still stung—no matter how many times you scrubbed away the tears or the pain, it was still there. And that feeling, the one that came when you felt like you were losing something you cared about, lingered as you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel. It wasn’t just about Rhea or the flirtations—it was about the space that had been growing between you and Jey for what seemed like weeks now.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

The next morning hit you like a brick. You woke up to an empty bed and as you ran your hands onto the smooth cotton sheets, they found an empty space next to you. Sometimes you’d wake up and Jey would be there because he’d arrive early and surprise you but not this time. In times like this, you gave yourself therapy which was doing an entire skin care routine. You needed your mind off Jey especially since your phone notifications were just as empty as the space next to you.

As you got out of bed, the soft stretch of your limbs was accompanied by the satisfying sound of your muscles cracking, easing the tension from the long night. You rubbed your eyes, still groggy, and slowly made your way to the bathroom. With a quiet click, you flipped the light switch on, filling the room with a warm, comforting glow. You grabbed your blue washcloth, running warm water over it before wringing out the excess and gently pressing it to your face. The warmth felt soothing against your skin, helping to wake you up as you sighed deeply, mentally preparing for the day ahead.

You started your morning skincare routine, reaching for your cleanser first. The gentle formula lathered as you massaged it into your skin, focusing on any areas where you felt the remnants of makeup or the wear of sleep still lingering. After rinsing it off, you followed up with a toner, its refreshing scent and cooling effect instantly tightening your pores and balancing your skin’s pH. You swiped it across your face with a cotton pad, feeling the freshness settle in.

Next, you reached for your serum. A few drops went onto your fingertips, and you pressed it into your skin, allowing it to absorb deeply. The light texture and the nourishing ingredients felt like a treat, giving your skin that healthy, radiant glow you always craved. You followed up with a delicate application of eye cream, tapping it gently around the sensitive skin beneath your eyes, trying to reduce the slight puffiness and dark circles from the late-night argument.

After a few moments, you smoothed on your moisturizer, letting the rich cream hydrate your skin and lock in the previous layers. It felt thick enough to give your face a protective barrier but light enough to absorb quickly, leaving your skin plump and soft. Then you finished with a few drops of face oil, massaging it into your skin to lock in moisture and give you that dewy, healthy glow that lasted throughout the day. Finally, you topped it off with broad-spectrum SPF 30 sunscreen, making sure to cover every inch of exposed skin, knowing how important it was to protect yourself from the sun’s harsh rays.

Before you finished up, you reached for your toothbrush. You carefully brushed your teeth, the minty freshness of the paste helping to awaken you even more as you scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. After rinsing, you took a moment to check your reflection, satisfied with the glowing, refreshed version of yourself staring back at you.

Around 2:30 in the afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, finishing up a fresh Caesar salad you had thrown together. The quiet hum of the apartment was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open, followed by Jey’s heavy footsteps. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him; his presence was felt before he even reached the doorway. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his furrowed brows and tense posture told you everything you needed to know—he was upset.

“What the hell is yo problem Y/N? You texting my phone and shit buggin’ out!

“Whatchu mean buggin’ out? You literally on camera flirting with another woman!”

“That’s my job! You knew that when we got together!”

“I ain’t know another bitch was gonna be all over you and then your ass wasn’t gonna be answering the phone! Joshua yo notifications were silent, you didn’t call me, and yo shit was on do not disturb bruh! Y’all have been flirting on the show for weeks! What? You had her in your hotel room too huh?!”

“It my fuckin’ job Y/N! Me and Rhea are friends outside of the ring and in the ring, but this is just a storyline! The most we’ve done is hug on camera! As far as me not answering my phone, my ass was tired! Tired as fuck and you on my ass for that cuz you think somethin’ going on! Hotel?! You think she was at my hotel f’real?! Ight, I tell you what. Come wit me on the road and see who I got in the hotel room.” He said stepping towards you. “Cause you ain’t gon find shit!”

“I don’t know she might be! Y’all might as well be fucking each other with the way y’all look at each other! Everybody on the net see that shit! You got a whole girlfriend at home Joshua!” You said taking a step towards him where the tension between you both grew even worse.

“That’s yo problem! Yo ass stay on the net Y/N, that don’t got nothin’ to do with me! With us!”

“You want me to come with you on the road? Bet!” You said before dissolving the tension completely due to storming to your shared bedroom and grabbing a few clothes from your closet starting to sort them on your bed. “You not finna have me looking fucking crazy nigga” you mumbled before grabbing your pink suitcase and beginning to throw your clothes inside of it. You were fuming, the argument didn’t make it any better and Jey not even attempting to understand where you were coming from made you even more pissed than you already were.

The drive to Smackdown was a long and quiet one. The silence between you and Jey stretched on, thick and heavy, like an unspoken wall you both couldn’t seem to break. Seven hours on the road with the person who had left you feeling so alone, was torture in its own right. The miles seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing minute feeling like a reminder of everything that had gone unsaid between you two. The hum of the tires on the highway was the only sound, broken only by the occasional change of gears and the low growl of Jey’s engine. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white, and his jaw remained clenched, as if holding in a thousand words that neither of you had the energy to speak.

Every time you looked over at him, there was that flash of gold from his fang teeth when he briefly parted his lips. His dark eyes remained locked on the road ahead, never meeting yours, and you wondered if he even realized how much it hurt that he hadn’t tried to reach out in any meaningful way. There was something about the way he held himself—so guarded, so distant—that only made the frustration and anger you’d been feeling more tangible.

The hours passed with nothing but the occasional hum of the radio and the drone of the road. The tension between you two seemed to increase with every mile, a pressure that built up with every unsaid word. Even though you were sitting next to each other, it felt as though you were on entirely different planets. You tried to push the swirling thoughts in your head away, but they kept coming back—thoughts of Rhea, of Jey’s evasiveness, of your own growing doubts. You couldn’t ignore it any longer.

When the GPS signaled that you were nearing your destination, Jey took the exit for the Marriott. The hotel looked standard—modern, with sleek lines and a minimalist design that spoke of business rather than comfort. The large glass windows caught the last few rays of sunlight, making the building look polished and professional. As Jey parked the car and cut the engine, you both got out in silence. The stillness in the air was deafening as you walked towards the entrance. Neither of you made eye contact, and the shared understanding that this trip—like everything else between you two at the moment—was shrouded in unresolved tension, hung in the air like a thick fog. As Jey got his bangs and your suitcase out of the car and handed the key off to valet, you took some time to examine the lobby. Securing your Pink Christian Dior bag on your shoulder, you made your way inside.

The lobby was bright and clean, with polished floors and neutral-colored decor that didn’t seem to offer much warmth. The hum of the air conditioning and soft murmur of other guests checking in was the only sound in the space. The reception desk was manned by a young woman with a friendly smile, her eyes lighting up when she saw Jey. Despite the tension you felt, a knot twisted in your stomach at the way she greeted him, too eager, too familiar. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than just politeness.

Jey didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. His demeanor was casual as he approached the counter, flashing the woman a quick smile before grabbing the room key. You stood off to the side, feeling the bitterness rising again. You knew it was irrational—he was friendly with people, that was just part of his job. But something about the way the woman looked at him felt too personal, too much like an insider joke, something you weren’t part of.

You followed him through the lobby, your steps slow as you tried to ignore the discomfort building inside you. The elevator ride was equally silent, the small space between you and Jey seemingly amplifying the emotional distance. He didn’t look at you once as he pressed the button for the floor, the ding of the elevator breaking the quiet as it moved upward.

When the doors opened, you both stepped out into the hallway, and Jey led the way to your room. The keycard swiped easily into the door, and it clicked open. You entered the room, and the soft, neutral tones of the decor did little to soothe your frazzled nerves. The king-sized bed was made neatly, the sheets crisply white, and the space felt sterile. There was a desk by the window and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The curtains were drawn, casting a soft shadow over the room, but even the quiet comfort of the space couldn’t ease the tension that followed you inside.

Jey set his bag down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, but there was still no attempt to break the silence. You stood by the door, your body tense, wondering if you should say something or just let the silence settle. But the words didn’t come. There was too much to say, too much that had been left unsaid for far too long.

Instead, you took a deep breath and walked over to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect yourself. The hotel room, with its impersonal design and sterile comfort, seemed to reflect the state of your relationship with Jey—something that was once warm, but now felt cold. The mirror in the bathroom caught your reflection, and you sighed. You didn’t even recognize the woman staring back at you. She looked tired—worn out from the constant emotional back-and-forth.

You ran your hands through your braids, staring at your reflection. What am I doing? You thought as you sat your bag down, but the answer was unclear. On one hand you thought that maybe you were reading into things too much because Jey had never actually cheated on you throughout your relationship or given you a reason to believe he was going anywhere. But on the other hand, the amount of insecurity and jealousy you had seemed to be taking over you all because you thought your man was entertaining other women…especially Rhea.

The sound of Jey moving around in the other room broke the silence again, but it didn’t bring any comfort. To find some form of therapy, you grabbed your bonnet out of your bag and put it on, stuffing all of your braids underneath the silk fabric before turning the shower on, hoping the sound of the water would give you a moment of peace, a moment to think. But you knew it wouldn’t. You wanted things to feel right again, but it was starting to feel like you were living in a version of reality that didn’t belong to you anymore.

As you undressed and stepped into the shower, the water rushed over you, but it couldn’t wash away the unease. The more the hot water streamed over you, the more you felt the weight of everything—of the confusion, the jealousy, the hurt. Even the soap and small bubbles couldn’t cleanse your mind. And when you stepped out and dried off, you knew it wasn’t just the hotel room that felt empty. It was the space between you and Jey.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around yourself, the soft cotton providing little comfort against the swirl of emotions that still clung to you. You dropped the clothes you’d been wearing earlier into the laundry bag you found tucked in the corner of the closet, the fabric brushing against your legs as your mind raced. When you turned around, your gaze immediately landed on Jey. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands tightly intertwined in front of him. His posture was tense, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you with those dark eyes that seemed to carry all the weight of unspoken words.

It was clear he was upset, but instead of speaking, he just watched you—his jaw set, his gaze unwavering. The tension in the room thickened with every passing second, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were being scrutinized under a microscope. His silence spoke louder than any argument, and it was almost like he was daring you to say something. It was as if he wanted you to stay quiet and let him carry the weight of whatever this was, to allow him to make the rules for the weekend—rules that seemed to say you were his and this trip was a way to show you that.

“Is there somethin’ you wanna say?”

“Do you see anybody in here?”

“This still don’t prove anything, why would she be here when I’m here. And again you and her are all over the net.”

“See what I’m sayin’, yo ass trippin for no reason. Ain’t nobody coming up in here. You always listening to what people on the net saying and letting them get inside yo head and shit.” He said before kissing his teeth and taking the remote turning on Peacock and putting on a random Raw taping to play in the background.

You were too in your feelings to notice it and ended up looking at him with straight anger. “Nah Joshua, you look at her like you way too comfortable. It ain’t about listenin’ to no net shit, it’s bout what I see nigga. And what I see is my man flirting with another female like he really wanna be in between her legs f’real.”

Jey let out a soft chuckle, his golden grills on his fangs lining up perfectly with his bottom teeth, but that wasn’t a funny laugh. That was a ‘I’m getting sick of this shit’ laugh and you knew it all too well. “You think I wanna be in between her legs?” He said as he turned to you and started walking toward you no longer laughing but looking deadass serious. His voice dropped a bit having the same deepness from when he was in the bloodline.

“We finna be here all weekend Y/N and you still convinced I got another woman coming to my hotel room and that I wanna be in between her legs and shit. Let me show you who legs I’m really tryna be in between since you think you know everything” he said backing you into the wall pinning both his hands on each side of you trapping you right in front of him. He then leaned forward before planting a rough but passionate kiss on your lips.

At first you gave a bit of hesitation but with the feelings and thoughts from earlier slowly starting to dissipate with his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, you gave in as you opened your mouth allowing him inside of your cavern. Your tongue collided with his as your arms wrapped around his neck deepening the exchange between you two.

With one swift motion Jey’s hands left the wall and made their way to your towel instead snatching it off your body as well as your bonnet letting your most of your braids fall down your back as some fell to the sides of your face. As you began to run out of air, you slowly pulled away before taking Jey’s shirt off revealing the beautiful work of art underneath. His tribal tattoos were never failed to catch your attention, especially with how they contorted when he was mad due to his muscles tensing. Dammit Jey. You were too busy admiring him that you didn’t even notice him picking you up before your attention suddenly snapped back to him as your back hit the soft fabric of the king sized bed.

Jey kicked off his low panda dunks before crawling on top of you, you both getting into another passionate make out session before this time it was him who pulled away as he made his way to your neck. His kisses and his teeth grazing your skin made your body shudder as you leaned your head back to give him more room, while soft moans slipped from your lips. Jey’s hands glided down your waist and to your legs pushing them open as he slowly kissed down your chest, then to your stomach, and stopping just above your entrance. Now he could’ve dived right into it but he wanted to make you…wait. He placed tender kisses between your thighs making sure to go agonizingly slow before dragging his tongue between your folds and up to your clit. His hands gripped onto your legs, as he slowly dragged his tongue over your folds again.

What started out as anticipation and soft moans of pleasure quickly turned into full on moans, inappropriate sounds, and squirming. His tongue started to twist and slide through your folds and over your clit as you could do nothing but squirm as your legs began to shake. You bucked your hips as your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you. “Ughhh!” You couldn’t help yourself, you knew you two were in a hotel and the walls were paper thin but that didn’t stop you from letting out those sounds Jey loved so much.

“Hell nah ma, none of that runnin’ shit” he murmured pulling away just slightly before pushing your hips down and going back to putting his tongue to work. God. He moved that tongue so well. There was no way you could stay mad at him when he was making you feel this good. You couldn’t buck your hips so you were forced to literally endure the feeling of the knot in your stomach tightening along with your legs shaking. The slurping and lapping sounds of Jey eating you out didn’t help the situation as your nails found their way into his scalp. “J-Jey!” You moaned out his name as a slew of curse words left your lips due to your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, your body jolting as it did so. Gasps of air left your lips as Jey still didn’t let up knowing you loved to be overstimulated.

“S-Shit! I c-can’t, I can’t!” You said feeling another knot build up, still not fully recovered from your previous orgasm. “One more time” was all he mumbled against your folds as you suddenly felt two of his fingers enter your walls beginning to pump in and out of you. The pleasure was becoming more overwhelming by the second, with one curl of those two fingers against your g-spot you completely broke, spilling all over his fingers and his mouth. His moans beneath and the fact he was cleaning up the aftermath caused your legs to almost completely go numb, they were shaking already still reeling from the massive orgasm you just had. But it was nowhere near over yet.

Jey slowly pulled away not minding that some of your juices dripped down his beard. With one quick wipe with his hands, it was gone. With one swift finger motion, he beckoned you over as you obeyed and swung your legs to the side positioning yourself on your knees before connecting your lips with his. The taste of yourself on his tongue was driving you crazy because it was you and no one else. He returned the kiss and you being the sneaky girl you were decided to get a feel of that Samoan dick you missed so much. It was so hard, large, and you could tell he was eager based on the precum leaking from the head of it. A low growl slipped from his lips before Jey pulled away from the kiss and gently put you in doggy style position where you were facing the TV before getting behind you grabbing your hips. “You wanna feel this dick don’t you?” he asked before starting to rub his dick against your throbbing pussy, it was drenched due to the orgasms you had from earlier and that was all the lube he needed. He pushed inside of you with a quick thrust of his hips as he immediately let out a low moan with a mixture of a grunt. “God damn, baby you tight as fuck f’real” he said easing his way deeper into you which evoked a moan from you. “Yeah take all this in, all f’ me” he praised.

Your walls clenched around Jey as his soft and gentle movements turned into much more rough and faster ones. Jey was paying full attention to you right now and that’s how you liked it. He was too busy giving you back shots to think about anyone or anything else. This was how it was suppose to be. He was showing you who he truly wanted, and your body was reciprocating it. Your pussy was the one thing Jey would always get drunk off of, you’d end up in different positions afterwards and today was no different. The faster and rougher his thrusts got, the more your walls gripped him with desperation.

Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head as one minute you were letting out loud gasps and the next your nails were digging into the bed as Jey was pounding you from behind before forcing you to look at the tv screen in front of you. On the screen was Rhea and Damian currently attempting to take on the judgement day with just the two of them. But the numbers game was too much, you heard the YEET chants from the crowd but with Jey’s dick inside of you, it was nothing but background noise. You remembered this RAW, a lot of people expected him to be there due to the storyline. In reality he wasn’t there because they were prolonging it. But even though this was an old taping, your mind went to him not being there due to the events currently unfolding in your shared hotel room and the fact that he chose you over Rhea. Something about Rhea being dominated by the judgement day and your man being behind you made your pussy throb and your walls completely clench around Jey. “Look at that” he said while taking a hand full of your box braids into his hands. “You think she gets this dick ma, nah only you do” he said as his movement in his hips sped up and he made it a point to purposely brush over that spot of yours which caused your body to shake all over. “Uh huh, found that shit didn’t I? Doin’ all that yellin’ for no reason just to end up like this under me” he muttered before suddenly nailing that spot straight away being completely satisfied by the loud moan that left your lips. “J-Jey! P-Please…” you begged as the sound of flesh slapping against each other filled the room along with your moans and his grunts. Your braids slowly fell back down over your face as Jey’s hand let go of your hair but slowly wrapped his hand around your neck instead lifting your head back making you look up at him instead. “Please what? Look at me when you talk to me ma” he said as he hit that spot over and over again. “Ughhh! F-Fuck!” You moaned up doing your best to attempt to look at Jey but the pleasure was too much. “Whatchu say ma? You ain’t telling me nothin’” he said as his strokes drove you wild. The knot in your stomach was becoming tighter and your pussy was becoming wetter and wetter. “P-Please c-cum inside me!” You screamed out, your voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes from the pleasure. “You want me to nut in this pussy huh?” He said as his thrusts started to become sloppy indicating he was close. “Y-Yes Daddy!” You screamed as you came undone all over his cock unable to hold yourself back. Seeing you come undone was enough to send Jey over the edge as he let out a number of curse words, slamming into you one final time letting his seed cover your walls. “God damn, mmm” he said before letting out a sigh of pleasure.

Your body was slowly coming down from its third orgasm of the day before you looked at Jey panting. “We ain’t done right?” You asked not being able to help yourself.

“Done? Hell nah. We got all weekend.”

♡

Note: I really hope you liked it! 💕 also if there’s any spelling errors I’m so sorry😭

Divider credits: @enchanthings & @anitalenia

Taglist: @punksyeet @binnieaddict @sheaabuttaababyy (if I did not tag you, it would not let me and you will have to comment!)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: swearing, trauma, therapy, unprotected piv, oral sex (female receiving)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part Twenty-Eight of Ink & Needle

The aftermath of Kit’s actions influences your daily life. You proposition Simon with the hope of moving forward.

Chapter Twenty-Seven // Chapter Twenty-Nine

ao3 // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Three Months Later

Healing isn’t linear. It is not kind or forgiving. The strangeness of therapy is how it resembles a spiderweb, beautiful at a glance but a lie. There is nothing beautiful in facing what you wish to leave behind. Sticky and lethal and pure carnage rehashed over and over again until talking it out becomes a numbing dullness.

Hope therapy goes well today. Love you.

Evie’s text stares up at you from the phone screen. She’s been a good friend through all of this, giving you space yet standing by your side. How the roles have reversed, become opposite from where it all started.

Bravo’s wet nose pushes into your palm, forcing your attention away from the phone screen.

“Hello, Bravo,” you croon softly, scratching the underside of his chin. “You good boy. Best boy!” His tail whips around in a circle, kicking up a breeze.

Simon’s dog has attended every therapy session with you. At first, you thought is strange that Simon insisted on it, but now you can’t imagine not having the German Shepherd there. Nearly all of your appointments occur during 141 Ink’s business hours. Simon cannot join you in person, but he can send a piece of himself along.

“Where’s your dad?” you tease. “Do you see him?”

Bravo stretches his neck, glancing around for Simon. It lasts only a moment. He is clearly far more interested in the attention you’re giving him.

“He is right here.”

Simon’s voice wraps around like a warm hug. You went without it for so long that now it’s a treat every time you hear him speak.

Bravo pivots out of your touch, taking a step forward to situate himself between you and Simon.

Simon’s eyebrows rise slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest. The body language stands in stark contrast to his massive grin. “Protecting her, are you? Even from me?” Bravo half-whines, half-barks. Simon chuckles. “That’s my boy.”

He gives Bravo a quick pat on the head before stepping around the dog. You immediately lean into Simon, one hand pressing into his chest as he cups the side of your neck, his thumb resting on the front of your throat. There is a protective, nearly primal quality to the way Simon’s features shift as his attention turns to you

“Am I late?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No.” Presenting your mouth, Simon descends slowly, meeting you with a serenely sensual kiss.

All the quiet, simmering anxiety that sits in the back of your mind melts away like a last snow, leaving behind a plethora of green grass that reaches for the sun. Simon is your beacon in the dark, the candle flame that lights your way.

One kiss is not enough. You need a second. A third.

The old flame of desire snakes upward, slithering between your bones to settle in your chest. It is asking for the thing you’ve denied yourself the last three months—an intimacy you had with Simon before everything happened.

A fourth kiss. A fifth. Desire tightens its languid body, constricting until your breath catches.

“Get a room!”

The voice of a passing stranger breaks the enchantment, the building desire retreating to hide amongst brown leaves and sticks.

Your cheeks grow hot just as a scowl appears on Simon’s face. Shoulder’s straightening, Simon is gearing to tell the interloper off, but you grab at Simon’s hand the second he begins to turn. A light tug is all it takes. Just your touch, and Simon’s scowl recedes to a soft smile that he only ever gives to you.

With a quick shrug of his shoulders, Simon clears his throat and takes Bravo’s offered leash, wrapping it around his tattooed knuckles. He places his hand low on your back, ushering you toward his parked car.

“How was therapy?”

Simon asks every time—a loaded question.

You exhale through your nostrils, briefly glancing away from him because telling the truth is fucking hard, especially when it involves him. You settle on a half-lie.

“Fine,” you reply. “Productive.”

Fine? Yes. Productive? No.

Simon’s head tilts slightly, gaze assessing like he doesn’t entirely believe you. “Up for company today?”

This you can appreciate it. Simon may always ask how therapy went but he never pushes further than you’re willing to give.

“Not really,” you answer, this time truthfully.

Evie’s unanswered text is as much a reminder as Simon’s questions. Things are different now. Normal cannot be what it once was. There are fractures you hold in your heart, memories that you wish you could erase with a quick snap of the fingers.

Simon nods, apparently content with your answer. “Then we’ll go home.”

It’s a short walk to the car, but you savor every second, leaning against Simon with each step. He talks your ear off about nothing, filling the air with what he did at the shop today, and the customers he had even as he helps you into the car.

It’s a lovely distraction. Which is why Simon is doing it at all. He knows. He understands. Simon is not a chatty person, he’s usually blunt with his words, more to the point than anything else. He prefers fewer words than long-winded nothings, and him keeping you distracted like this goes against everything he’s comfortable with.

But Simon doesn’t know what you talk about in those sessions with the therapist, and you refuse to share it with him. He also doesn’t ask, and for that, you’re fucking grateful. You’re still coming to terms with it yourself, shuffling through the two and a half months you were gone.

Sometimes, you think things would be easier if Kit had just hurt you. That’s the expected thing, to be mutilated in unforgiveable ways. You think about his choices often, what was going through his head, and why he never raised a single hand to you. The silence you received instead is almost worse somehow. Kit refused to speak with you, and the only other person who saw was the man that brought you your meal. He refused to say anything to you—refused to even glance in your direction. It wasn’t until the coffin that you heard the first human voice other than your own in two months.

And the voice was Simon’s. Not Kit’s. Simon’s.

Today, you talked about the coffin.

Not that you actually remember it. You only saw it after you were released from the hospital. Simon took you to some military base because Captain Price thought that seeing it in person might trigger a memory. He was firmly against it, insisted that you didn’t have to do this, but you pushed back, wanting to see what that monster put you in. Simon backed down, but setting your gaze on the thing that you nearly died in turned your limbs to stone and your mind to smeared jelly.

Simon was fucking furious. You’ve seen him upset—and you thought you knew what anger looked like on him. How wrong you were. Kyle stepped in and escorted you out of the room. You might have been on the other side of the wall but it only damped the screaming match that happened. Their words were heated, the exchange loud, and though you didn’t catch all of it, you picked up pieces.

Don’t involve her again.

This is my price to pay.

She’s suffered enough.

Kyle, while leaning against the wall next to you and fidgeting with his watch, had given you a solemn smile, an attempt to reassure but only left you feeling hollow.

“Don’t fret over it,” he had said. “Simon loves you is all. Price knows that.”

“They’re screaming at each other,” you murmured.

Kyle shrugged, the smile becoming more sincere and genuine. “Price will hug him after he’s done yelling. Simon will grunt.” He winked. “All good, love. Promise.”

Simon never brought you to another military base or anything to do with what happened again. If anyone reached out to him to insist, you never heard about it.

But of what you do remember, it’s of what happened before the coffin, how Kit smiled when he brought you your meal. You didn’t know it was drugged then. He hid it well, disguising the taste and texture. You should have known something was wrong when Kit sat on the floor across from you and watched you gobble up every bite. But you had been hungry, and having another person near felt so comforting in the moment.

“Movie sound good?”

You inhale sharply, turning toward Simon’s voice. He’s standing next to you, passenger door open, the middle of the brow creased with concern by your reaction. The two of you are already home.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “What did you ask?”

The corners of his lips turn downward. You’ve slipped off again—left reality for a bit.

“A movie,” repeats Simon. “After dinner. Thought we could stay in tonight.”

Bravo shoves his face between the front passenger seat and the interior of the car. His dark eyes dart between the two of you, impatience clear in the way his tail thump thump thumps against the backseat.

“Great,” you reply, slipping out of the car.

Simon’s gaze remains impassive, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your hand, Bravo trotting along behind the two of you.

Inside, Simon takes your coat, hanging it up next to his before heading into the kitchen to start the kettle. It’s April now, but the weather is still chilly on occasion, and you could go for a tea.

“The new visa should arrive soon,” says Simon, flipping the tap on the electric kettle. “Price made a few calls.” Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, he sets them down on the counter before turning around to face you. “Could get you a different one. A longer stay.” He pauses, a hopefulness twinkling in his eye. “Citizenship even.”

With everything that’s happened, Simon still wants you here, with him. Hands clasped in front of you, you meander into the kitchen, almost sauntering in the way you approach him. Simon’s eyelids grow heavy, that earlier desire forming in his gaze. The two of you have touched and kissed, but the few times any further intimacy has been initiated, it’s been by Simon. You weren’t committed then, still confused and dripping with a sense of being unclean.

When you’re ready. No rush.

Respect for you outweighs his desire. Simon made you aware in other ways—subtle glances and touches, gentle compliments—but never pushed, never made you feel like sex is an expectation. He handed you the ball and bat with the only request that you swing when ready.

“Is that what you want, Simon? For me to stay?”

As you draw closer, Simon’s hands instinctually reach out to you. You do not shy away but step into his embrace. Those large, tattooed hands of his clutch your waist, pulling you closer until you’re nearly flush against him.

“There are few things I want more.”

“Only a few?” you tease, and you’re greeted with a warm smile.

“Nothing, then.”

The kettle starts to boil, but Simon ignores his, all of his attention focused on you.

“I don’t want to watch a movie. Think I’d like to do something else.”

Simon shrugs. “Course, love. Whatever you want.” He shifts slightly to plop a teabag into each mug and then carefully pours the water over the top. “We can watch the next episode of that show—”

“No,” you interject, and Simon sets the kettle down. “I mean—” You lick your lips, unsure of how you want to approach this. “I want to…try.”

Simon blinks. “Try,” he says slowly. “Try…what?”

It takes every ounce of control to not laugh at Simon’s confusion. Placing your hand on his chest, you slide it lower, and lower still until the confusion on his face melts away and realization dawns. Without breaking eye contact, Simon grasps your wrist and draws your hand away as it falls dangerously close to brushing against his groin.

“Only if you’re ready,” he murmurs, though you hear the hunger. “Don’t do it on my account.”

“I miss you.”

“I’m right here, love.”

As you press into him, Simon’s resolve splinters. Your face is upturned, lips slightly parted in offer, and Simon’s mouth is just shy of connection. You breathe him in just as he does you. There is nothing you want more, to be consumed by him, to reconnect in the one way you’ve been without.

Simon lightly grasps the bottom-half of your face. “After dinner,” he says, and the curling need pooling low in your belly squirms with discontent.

“Now,” you breathe, a demand.

Simon’s eyelids flutter. Close. He takes a deep, steadying breath before opening them again. “If I sink inside you right now, I won’t last.”

The admission only enflames the already burning embers. You desperately need to cross this hurdle, to find this intimacy with Simon again. With one hand free, you gently cup him through his jeans, rubbing, finding him hard and wanton.

Simon growls, and then you’re being lifted. He shoves everything out of the way, hot water spilling into the sink and onto the floor. The tea is forgotten, the bags briefly floating in the sink before the water disappears down the drain.

“I’m not taking you like this,” says Simon, forehead pressing against yours. “We’re having tea. Dinner. And only after will I indulge you.”

“Think the tea is ruined, Simon.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, closing the distance to seize you in a fierce kiss.

Everything about it is honey-drenched. Sticky. Slightly sweet. You open for him, and he goes for a taste, his hand on your throat like a collar. This is the passion you remember; the wanton need you crave.

It is not gone. Only buried.

As your hands roam, the kissing only becomes more desperate. Your thighs trap his waist, but he makes no move to retreat. Not like you could stop him. He’s far stronger than you, and even in that strength he’s aware of it, not grasping too tightly.

Fingers delve, and in seconds you have the front of Simon’s jeans open, slipping your hand inside to find his warmth. As your fingers brush his skin, Simon breaks the kiss, nearly choking on his next breath as he draws back.

“Dinner first,” he groans, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand from his pants. “Food first.”

“You’re a tease, Simon Riley,” you whimper.

He chuckles, low and knowing. “Like making you squirm.”

Dinner is a much longer affair than you’d like, as if Simon has an eternity to feed you. Every time you try to help, he shoos you off, telling you to relax and enjoy your cuppa. You eventually give up, curling up with Bravo on the sofa watching reality television as Simon putters about.

When he finally hands you your plate, you scarf it down in record time, promptly setting it aside to stare at Simon longingly.

“After,” he repeats.

“Buzzkill.”

Simon reaches over and squeezes your thigh, returning to his meal, gaze locked on the television. You try to refocus, but your mind is locked on a singular goal like you’re a man thinking with his dick and not his brain.

With a final scrape of his fork across his plate, Simon clears it, sighing with contentment. Reaching for your plate, he starts cleaning up, still insisting that you don’t move from the couch at all. This time, you don’t put up a fight, deciding it is better to snuggle with Bravo.

“Bed, Bravo,” snaps Simon. The German Shepherd grumbles as he lifts his head from your lap and dramatically slides off the couch. “To think you used to sniff out bombs,” mutters Simon, shaking his head. “Off with you.”

Bravo disappears down the hall, and then Simon is turning to you, holding out a hand in offering. “Come here to me.”

The delivery in his voice leaves no room for denial. Pushing off from the couch and reaching for his hand is easy. You want this—need this.

Simon’s arms go around you, holding you close. That soft smile returns and you answer it with one of your own.

“Still want to do this?”

“I’m sure.”

Simon’s thumb lightly grazes the line of your jaw. “Tell me if you want to stop. Promise me.”

“Promise,” you murmur.

“That’s my girl.”

With your hand in his, Simon walks backward into the bedroom. He pulls you in as he shuts the door, teasing a kiss but not giving it to you. You try to steal one anyway, but Simon knows you too well, leaning away at the last second as he slips his hand from yours.

There is no mask. No anymore. Haven’t seen it at all unless he’s at the shop, working. His sweatshirt goes, followed by his shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up. Even in the dark with a just a hint of moonlight, you can glimpse him.

Corded muscle. Endless tattoos.

Your hands copy his movements, removing an article of clothing one at a time. All this time you’ve been rushing, and now that you’re here, the undressing is slow. Languid. Simon is done before you, and even in the dark you notice the way his hands clench and unclench with the anticipation of touching you.

You barely have your socks and pants off before Simon is grasping for you, hands groping ass and hip, mouth coming down on yours with desperation. In this, you feel utterly wanted, as if there is nothing he requires more than to be one with you.

Simon’s erection presses into your lower stomach, an insistent thing that both of you ignore. His kisses are your favorite, you want them forever, and that is all you can focus on even as your grow slicker between the thighs.

You drape your arms over his shoulders and then connect them behind his neck, clinging like he’ll disappear if you don’t. Simon’s hands slide over your back and down to your ass, filling his hands as squeezing. Angling your hips up a bit, he rubs himself against you, a low groan leaving him as the base of his erection brushes the side of your clit.

Forget slow. Forget the fact that Simon admitted he wouldn’t last.

Unlocking your arms from around his neck, you reach back and grab one of Simon’s groping hands. Bringing it between your bodies, you guide his fingers to your pussy, desperately needing him to touch you. His thick fingers slide easily over your sex, your arousal apparent.

You shiver from the contact, but Simon? Simon growls, low and feral, and utterly primal. Flattening three fingers against your sex, Simon parts you, the middle finger teasing your entrance with a soft caress. It hovers, and then starts to slide in.

Simon’s lips move away from your mouth and to your chin, then to your jaw, and then your throat. More of his finger enters.

“I missed you,” you whimper as he settles to the knuckle. Simon’s teeth graze your neck as his finger begins to slide back out. “Every. Day.”

Simon adds a second finger, pumping both in perfect rhythm. “I’m here now, love. Right here. Not going anywhere.”

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as Simon’s palm rubs against your clit. “I—love—”

“Love, what?” coaxes Simon.

“You. I love you.”

Simon’s teeth no longer graze but they don’t bite down. They trace a line up your throat before taking a nip at your bottom lip. His fingers begin to retreat again but you grasp the back of his hand, pressing, urging him back inside.

“Don’t be gentle with me,” you murmur, rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers. “Fuck me the way you want to. Please.”

Simon’s head tilts to the side. “You sure about that, love?”

You whimper, nodding, pussy clenching around his fingers as his palm lightly rubs against your clit again. It’s lovely—slowly building that orgasm you so desperately crave. But then Simon’s fingers are gone and in his mouth, sucking them clean.

Your brain short circuits, unable to comprehend the change until Simon is guiding you onto all fours on the bed. He places a hand on your upper back, urging your front into the mattress as your ass stays up in the air. Guiding your legs apart, you expect him to settle between, to mount you and rut.

His mouth finds you instead, tongue parting your pussy from clit to opening then back again. You press back against his mouth and Simon makes a feast of you. The orgasm is a slap in the face. It doesn’t arrive slowly but as a thunderous force, nearly smashing you over the head with its intensity.

Thighs quiver. Legs shake. You cry out so loud you think Simon might stop. He doesn’t. He only continues through the ordeal, urging toward another and yet another until there are tears in your eyes. Only then does he draw back, wettened lips kissing the backs of your thighs and the curve of your ass.

His strong hands rub up and down the length of your back. Soothing and comforting at first, but then demanding, helping you turn until you’re facing him. Limbs like jelly, you allow Simon to draw you into his lap, to ease your legs to fall on either side of him, to help guide you to and then onto his cock.

“Want me to stop?” he asks, voice gruff.

You vehemently shake your head. “No. Want you. Always.”

With a final effort, Simon rocks his hips up just as he presses down on your hips. Every inch is inside of you, stretching, filling. You’re full of him, but it’s not enough. You need him to move.

“Simon,” you beg.

Shifting his arms, he supports you with his hands and forearms as well as his thighs. It forces your legs up and open, ankles and feet dangling. A slice of moonlight cuts through the room, highlighting the space where your bodies meet. With your forehead resting against his cheek, you watch as Simon guides you up and down his length, disappearing and then reappearing with a shine.

Keeping one arm hooked behind his neck, you reach between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. You create a v with index and middle finger, parting your pussy to open you up more, to capture the place where Simon’s cock penetrates you.

He’s hardly keeping it together as you tease the base of his cock with a fingernail Simon’s whimper instinctually has your pussy tightening around him.

“I want you to come inside me,” you whisper, breath brushing over his cheek. Simon’s hands tighten, fingers digging into your flesh as he ceases sliding and starts thrusting. “Please,” you add with a hint of longing.

He cannot say no. Simon never does.

In seconds, Simon has you on your back, flattening you against the bed. With one hand above your head, fisting the sheets, he rests the other on the inner thigh of your left leg, holding it wide and open for a better angle.

Simon’s first thrust is brutal. He buries his face against your neck, and doesn’t fucking stop. Every time your bodies connect, he grunts loudly. The muscles in his back bulge beneath your palms.

This is not healing. This is carnage. This is a burial.

Simon is digging your grave but not to leave you to rot. You are to be wholly submerged, wholly undone in the dark, to be thread unspooled. You will linger in this grave, in Simon’s arm, to know only of him. And then, only then, will you be unearthed from the dirt.

In the morning, with the light, there will be a calmness that smothers all. A closing of a door that will never be reopened. There is no definition in past, only a resounding future, and you must take it—seek it.

“I love you,” groans Simon.

His words are what does it, that breaks the flood, and shows you the way forward.

“You’re mine.”

These words are not a groan, more a plea. You’re mine because he wants it so, and all you need to do is agree.

Mine.

Mine.

“Love you.”

taglist:

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[ddongtsan]

What If I Said Yes? - Kim Donghyun

Leehan x fem. reader

Note: I confess that sometimes I also feel tired of being a girl. But then I think that I actually just need someone to make me feel like a real girl.

Warning: Friends to lovers, fluff, drabble.

The rain tapped against the window, the rhythmic sound filling the quiet of your room.

You lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of the day pressed down on you.

Nothing had gone right.

First, you’d forgotten your umbrella and arrived at school drenched.

Then, the test you’d spent countless nights studying for turned out to be full of questions that seemed written in a foreign language.

And to top it all off, the group chat with your friends was silent — everyone seemed too busy to talk.

With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed your phone, scrolling aimlessly through your messages. His name was at the top of your recent chats: Leehan.

Leehan was… complicated.

He was the kind of person who could light up a room with just a smile and always seemed to know the right thing to say.

You couldn’t deny the flutter in your chest every time you thought of him. But you two weren’t anything official. Just friends.

Friends with an unspoken tension that neither of you dared to address.

Without giving yourself time to overthink, you opened the chat and typed:

Being a girl sucks.

The moment you hit send, regret washed over you.

What if he thought you were being overly dramatic? Or worse, what if he didn’t respond at all? But before you could dwell on it, your phone vibrated.

Being my girl wouldn’t.

You blinked at the screen, your heart skipping a beat.

Did he really just say that? Typical Donghyun, always so confident, always knowing how to throw you off balance.

Still, you tried to play it cool.

Oh yeah? And what would make it so different?

This time, he didn’t reply with a text. Your phone buzzed with an incoming call, and his name lit up the screen.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, already feeling the nervous flip in your stomach.

“Do you really want me to explain this over text?” His voice was low, teasing, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest.

“I thought you were busy today” you said, feigning nonchalance.

“I always have time for you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile creeping onto your face. Kim always had this effect on you, and he knew it.

“Alright, convince me then. Why would being your girl be so amazing?”

He laughed softly, the sound so warm and genuine that it made your heart flutter.

“Well, for starters, I’d make you laugh every day. Like right now — I know you’re trying not to smile even though I’m totally getting to you.”

“I’m not smiling!” You protested, though it was a blatant lie.

“Sure you aren’t.” He paused, and you could almost picture the smirk on his face.

“And more than that, I’d remind you every single day how amazing you are. On bad days, like today, I’d take you out for your favorite milkshake or do something dumb to distract you — like singing terrible karaoke songs.”

For a moment, you didn’t respond, the warmth in your chest growing stronger. His words were so simple, yet they meant so much more than he probably realized.

“And what if I said I want to test that theory?” You asked, surprised by your own boldness.

There was a brief silence on the other end before leehan spoke, his voice slightly lower, almost serious.

“Then I guess you just became my girl.”

Your heart was racing now, but at the same time, you felt an unexpected calm, like this was where you were meant to be all along.

“Okay” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “But I’m holding you to that milkshake part.”

He laughed again, the sound sending butterflies straight to your stomach.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And for the first time that day, everything felt right.

Maybe, just maybe, being a girl wasn’t so bad — at least, not if you were his girl.

[rose054687]

Nct dream reaction when you sick

Pairing: nct dream x female!reader

Genre: fluff، relationship,Mention of sensitivity، Mention of illness and influenza.

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, because I sometimes use a translator in some sentences.

Pictures not mine it belongs to its owners. 🧸

Mark Lee

It was one of those dreary days when the sky was overcast, and the rain pattered softly against the window. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, feeling the weight of your sickness pressing down on you. Your head throbbed, and your throat felt raw, making every breath a reminder of your discomfort.

Just as you were about to drift off into a restless sleep, you heard the familiar sound of the front door creaking open. You looked up, squinting against the dim light, and saw Mark stepping inside, shaking off the rain from his jacket.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face as he approached you.

You managed a weak smile. “Not really. Just feeling under the weather.”

Mark knelt down beside the couch, his brow furrowing. “You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well. I would’ve come over sooner.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He frowned, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead. “You know I worry about you. Let me take care of you.”

With that, he stood up and headed to the kitchen. You could hear him rummaging through the cabinets. A few moments later, he returned with a steaming mug of tea and a plate of crackers.

“Here, this should help,” he said, handing you the mug.

You took a sip, the warmth spreading through you, and sighed. “Thanks, Mark. You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“Of course, I did. You’re my favorite person,” he said, settling down on the edge of the couch. “Now, tell me what you need. More blankets? A movie? A foot rub?”

You chuckled softly, feeling a little better just from his presence. “A movie sounds nice.”

“Alright, let’s pick something. But first, you need to eat something,” he insisted, nudging the plate closer to you.

As you nibbled on the crackers, Mark leaned back, scrolling through the movies on his phone. “How about a classic? Something light to cheer you up?”

“Sure, but only if you promise to stay and watch it with me,” you replied, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

“Deal,” he said, a smile breaking through his earlier worry. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone while you’re sick.”

With the movie playing softly in the background, you leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. As the story unfolded on the screen, you could hear Mark’s occasional chuckle, and it made you feel a little lighter despite the heaviness of your illness.

“See? Not so bad, right?” he whispered, glancing down at you.

“Yeah, it’s nice having you here,” you admitted, closing your eyes for a moment.

As the hours passed, the rain continued to fall outside, but inside, you felt a sense of comfort and safety. Mark’s presence made everything feel a little less daunting, and you knew that with him by your side, you could face anything—even being sick.

Huang Renjun

You found yourself curled up in bed, feeling under the weather. Your head throbbed, and your throat felt like sandpaper. It was the day before your big exam, and the pressure was mounting. You knew you needed to study, but the thought of facing the textbooks made you feel even more exhausted.

As you lay there, wrapped in your warm blankets, your phone buzzed beside you. It was Renjun, your caring boyfriend, checking in. "Hey, how are you feeling? I was thinking about you," he texted, his concern evident even through the screen.

You smiled weakly, typing back, "Not great, honestly. I’m worried about the exam tomorrow. I can’t focus like this."

Renjun, always the supportive partner, quickly replied, "I’ll come over and help you study. We can make it fun! Just rest for now."

A short while later, you heard a soft knock on your door. You struggled to get up, but the moment you opened the door, Renjun’s warm smile made everything feel a little better. He walked in, carrying a bag filled with snacks and your favorite study materials.

"Got you some tea and snacks," he said, setting everything on your desk. "I thought we could study together. I’ll make sure you don’t stress too much."

"Thanks, Renjun," you said, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I really appreciate it. I just hope I can remember everything."

As you both settled down, Renjun began quizzing you on the material. His voice was calm and encouraging, making the daunting subjects seem a little less intimidating. "Okay, let’s start with the key concepts. What’s the main idea behind this chapter?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with determination.

You took a deep breath, trying to focus. "Um, it’s about... the impact of social media on communication," you replied, your voice a bit shaky.

"Exactly!" Renjun beamed, and it made your heart flutter. "And how does it change the way we interact with each other?"

You felt a spark of energy from his enthusiasm. "It creates distance but also connects us in ways we didn’t have before," you answered, feeling more confident.

As the study session continued, Renjun made sure to take breaks, encouraging you to drink your tea and eat some snacks. "You need to take care of yourself too," he reminded you gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Your health is more important than any exam."

You couldn’t help but smile at his caring nature. "You’re right. I just want to do well."

"I know you will," he said, leaning closer. "Just remember, you’re amazing, and I’m proud of you no matter what."

The warmth of his words wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. You felt a sense of comfort knowing he was by your side, supporting you through this stressful time. As the evening wore on, you both studied and laughed, sharing little moments that made the stress of the exam fade away.

When it was finally time to call it a night, Renjun helped you tidy up the study area. "Get some rest, okay? I’ll be here in the morning to walk you to the exam. You’ve got this," he said, giving you a reassuring hug.

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and affection. "Thanks for everything, Renjun. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

With a final wave, he left, and you settled into bed, feeling a little better. You closed your eyes, knowing that with Renjun’s support, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Lee Jeno

As the rain poured down in heavy sheets, you hurried out of the office, clutching your umbrella tightly. The dim light of the streetlamps flickered in the stormy weather, casting a soft glow on the pavement. You had stayed late to finish up a project, and now you were regretting every minute of it. Just as you stepped outside, a gust of wind sent a chill through your body, and you sighed, realizing that your umbrella was barely holding up against the relentless downpour.

You quickly texted Jeno, hoping he would respond before you reached home. "Hey, I’m on my way but it’s pouring! I might be a bit late," you typed, your fingers shivering slightly as you pressed send. The thought of curling up on the couch with him made the miserable weather a little more bearable.

Finally, you arrived at your apartment, drenched and shivering. You fumbled with the keys, your hands slick with water, and finally managed to unlock the door. As soon as you stepped inside, the warmth enveloped you, but the chill from the rain clung to your skin. You tossed your wet coat aside and headed to the bathroom to change.

Just as you were about to pull on some dry clothes, your phone buzzed. It was Jeno. "Are you okay? I saw the weather report. Do you need me to come over?" His concern made your heart flutter, and you smiled despite your discomfort.

"Yeah, I’m okay! Just a bit wet. I’ll be fine," you replied, knowing full well you were anything but fine. The cold was starting to seep into your bones, and you could feel the beginnings of a sore throat.

A few minutes later, you heard a soft knock on the door. You opened it to find Jeno standing there, drenched from head to toe, his hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes widened in concern as he took in your appearance. "You look like you just walked through a monsoon," he said, stepping inside and shaking off like a wet dog.

"I could say the same about you," you laughed, but the sound turned into a cough. Jeno’s expression shifted instantly, and he stepped closer, placing a hand on your forehead. "You’re cold! You should’ve told me you were feeling unwell. Come here," he said, leading you to the couch.

He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, his warmth radiating against your skin. "You should have let me know you were leaving work late. I would have come to pick you up," he said, his voice soft but laced with a hint of worry.

"I didn’t think it would rain this hard," you admitted, leaning into him as he settled beside you. "But I’m really glad you’re here now."

Jeno smiled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear. "Let me take care of you," he said, getting up to prepare some tea. You watched him move around the kitchen, his usual grace evident even in the chaos of the storm.

When he returned with a steaming cup, he handed it to you, his fingers lingering on yours. "Drink this. It’ll help warm you up," he instructed gently. You took a sip, feeling the heat spread through you.

As you settled back against the cushions, Jeno wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "You’re going to rest, right? No work tonight," he said firmly, and you nodded, feeling comforted by his presence.

"You always know how to make me feel better," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"That’s my job," he replied with a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now, tell me what you want to do. We can binge-watch that show you love or just talk. Whatever you need."

With Jeno by your side, the storm outside felt less daunting, and you knew that no matter how sick you felt, you were exactly where you wanted to be.

Lee Haechan

In a cozy little apartment, you found yourself lovingly caring for Haechan, who had been struck down by a nasty cold. The days were filled with warm soup, soft blankets, and his favorite movies playing in the background. You had always been there for him, nurturing him back to health, despite your busy schedules and the demands of being idols.

As you sat by his side, you could see the fatigue etched on his face, but also the gratitude in his eyes. "You really don’t have to take care of me like this," he murmured, his voice hoarse yet filled with warmth.

"I want to," you replied softly, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "You always take care of me. It’s my turn."

Days passed, and Haechan slowly recovered, the sparkle returning to his eyes. Yet, just as he was getting better, you felt a tickle in your throat. You brushed it off, thinking it was just fatigue from taking care of him. But soon, that tickle turned into a full-blown sore throat, and before you knew it, you were the one sniffling and sneezing.

Haechan noticed right away. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he sat up, his previous illness forgotten.

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to muster a smile. “Just a little tired.”

But he wasn’t convinced. “You’ve been taking care of me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” he insisted, his expression serious.

You chuckled weakly. “You just got better. I can manage.”

Haechan shook his head, determination shining in his eyes. “No way. You’re not getting out of this one. I’ll make you soup, and you can just relax.”

With a sigh, you relented, knowing how stubborn he could be. “Alright, but only if you promise to rest too.”

As he moved to the kitchen, you settled back on the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket. You could hear the clattering of pots and pans, and a smile crept onto your face despite your discomfort. Haechan had a knack for making even the simplest things feel special.

When he returned, he held a steaming bowl of soup in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. “Here you go, my nurse,” he said with a playful grin, handing you the soup.

“Thanks, Haechan,” you said, taking a sip. The warmth spread through you, and for a moment, you forgot about your illness.

As you ate, Haechan settled beside you, his presence comforting. “You know, I really appreciate everything you do for me,” he said, his tone serious. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You felt your heart swell at his words. “You’d be just fine. You’re strong.”

“Maybe, but I’d be a lot lonelier,” he replied, nudging you lightly with his shoulder.

With the soup finished, you leaned back against him, your eyes growing heavy. “I think I’m going to take a nap,” you murmured.

“Alright, but I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised, wrapping an arm around you protectively.

As you drifted off, you felt a sense of safety and love enveloping you. Even in sickness, you knew that together, you could face anything.

Hours later, you woke to find Haechan still beside you, a blanket draped over your legs. He was asleep, his face peaceful. You smiled softly, feeling grateful for him. Just then, he stirred, opening his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, his voice still a little raspy. “How do you feel?”

“Better, I think,” you replied, stretching slightly. “Thanks to you.”

He grinned, the familiar sparkle returning to his eyes. “Good. Now, how about we watch a movie together? I’ll even let you pick this time.”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of his affection. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep your germs to yourself.”

“Cross my heart,” he said, making an exaggerated gesture.

As the movie played on, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You were together, and that was all that mattered. Even in the toughest times, love had a way of healing.

In that moment, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the comfort of each other’s presence, you knew you would always take care of one another, no matter what life threw your way.

Na Jaemin

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room, you stirred awake, feeling a heaviness in your chest and a dull ache in your head. Blinking against the light, you turned to your side and saw Jaemin sleeping peacefully next to you, his features relaxed and serene, a small smile playing on his lips even in slumber. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, but as you shifted slightly, a wave of dizziness washed over you.

"Ugh," you groaned softly, bringing a hand to your forehead. It felt warm, and a sense of dread settled over you. You had been feeling off for a couple of days, but you had hoped it was just fatigue. Now, it seemed like it was more than that.

Jaemin stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he noticed your discomfort. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep but laced with concern. He propped himself up on one elbow, studying you closely.

You managed a weak smile, "I think I might be coming down with something."

His expression shifted from sleepy to worried in an instant. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You should have stayed in bed," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. His hand felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body.

"I didn’t want to worry you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin frowned, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "You know I’d rather take care of you than have you suffer in silence. Let me get you some water and medicine," he insisted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

You watched as he hurried to the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence. You felt a mix of gratitude and guilt. Jaemin always put you first, and while you appreciated his care, you wished you could be the one taking care of him instead.

When he returned, he handed you a glass of water and a couple of pills. "Here, take these. You need to rest," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. You took the medicine, swallowing it down with a few sips of water.

"Thanks, Jaemin," you said, your voice a little stronger now.

He settled back next to you, pulling the covers up around your shoulders. "You need to stay warm. I’ll be right here with you," he promised, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. "I’m sorry for ruining our weekend," you murmured, guilt creeping back in.

"Don’t say that," he replied firmly. "I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else. We can binge-watch our favorite shows or just sleep. Whatever you need."

You smiled softly, comforted by his words. "Maybe a little bit of both?"

"Deal," he said, a playful grin breaking through his earlier worry. He reached for the remote, flipping through channels until he found a familiar show that always made you laugh.

As the episode played, you felt yourself relax, the sound of Jaemin’s laughter mixing with the show’s humor. You snuggled deeper into his embrace, allowing the warmth of his presence to soothe your discomfort.

"Promise me you’ll let me know if you feel worse," he said after a while, his voice serious again.

You nodded, feeling reassured by his concern. "I promise."

Hours passed, and you drifted in and out of sleep, Jaemin’s gentle voice narrating the storylines and his laughter filling the room. It was a comforting lullaby, and despite your illness, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

As the day wore on, you realized that being sick wasn’t so bad when you had someone like Jaemin by your side, ready to take care of you. You felt grateful for his love and support, knowing that together, you could face anything—even a little cold.

Zhong Chenle

You sitting at the kitchen table, watching Chenle as he enthusiastically prepared dinner. His cheerful demeanor and infectious smile always had a way of lighting up your day. Tonight, he was trying his hand at a new recipe he had seen online, a spicy stir-fry that he promised would be delicious.

“Are you ready for this?” Chenle asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve added a secret ingredient that will blow your mind!”

You chuckled, “Just make sure it’s not too spicy for me, okay? You know my taste buds can’t handle too much heat.”

“Don’t worry! I’ve got it all under control,” he assured you, stirring the pan with a flourish.

As you watched him cook, you couldn’t help but admire his passion for food. He was always experimenting, and while you loved his adventurous spirit, you also knew he had a tendency to go overboard sometimes. The vibrant colors of the vegetables and the sizzle of the meat filled the air with an enticing scent.

After a while, dinner was served, and you sat down together at the table, the delicious dish in front of you. It looked amazing, and the aroma was mouthwatering. Chenle watched you expectantly as you took your first bite.

“Wow, this is really good!” you exclaimed, trying to hide your hesitation. The flavor was intense, and while you enjoyed it, you couldn’t shake off a slight tingling sensation in your mouth.

“Really? You mean it?” he beamed, clearly proud of his culinary skills.

“Yeah, just a little spicy, but I like it!” you replied, forcing a smile.

You continued to eat, but soon you started feeling uneasy. Your throat felt scratchy, and your stomach churned. You tried to brush it off, thinking it was just a reaction to the spice. But as the minutes passed, the discomfort grew.

“Are you okay?” Chenle asked, concern etched on his face. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine, just a little… spicy,” you managed to say, but deep down, you knew something was off.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you, and you rushed to the bathroom. As you leaned over the sink, you could feel your heart racing. It wasn’t just the spice; you realized that you must have reacted to something in the dish, something you hadn’t anticipated.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?” Chenle called from the other side of the door, his voice laced with worry.

“I’m not feeling well!” you shouted back, trying to steady your breathing. “I think I’m allergic to something in the food!”

Moments later, he burst through the door, his face a mixture of panic and concern. “What did I do? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know! I think there might have been something in the dish that I’m allergic to,” you said, your voice shaky. “I should have checked the ingredients more carefully.”

Chenle quickly helped you to the couch, his hands gentle as he guided you down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you sick. What can I do to help?”

“Just stay with me,” you whispered, feeling weak. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He nodded, sitting beside you and holding your hand tightly. “I’m right here. We’ll get through this together.”

As the minutes turned into hours, you felt Chenle’s presence comforting you. He brought you water and even tried to distract you with stories about his day, but your body was still fighting against the allergic reaction. You could see the worry in his eyes, and it broke your heart to know that you were the cause of his distress.

“Y/N, I can’t believe I didn’t think about your allergies,” he said, guilt heavy in his voice. “I should have asked you about everything I put in the stir-fry.”

“It’s okay, Chenle. I should have been more careful too,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand. “I know you were just trying to make something special for us.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just wanted to impress you. You mean so much to me, and I thought this would be a fun surprise.”

You smiled weakly, touched by his words. “It was a nice thought, and I appreciate the effort. Just… next time, let’s cook together, okay?”

“Deal,” he said, a small smile breaking through his worry. “But for now, let’s focus on getting you better.”

As the night wore on, Chenle stayed by your side, making sure you were comfortable. He wrapped a blanket around you and even put on your favorite movie to help take your mind off the discomfort. His soothing voice and gentle touch made you feel safe.

Park Jisung

You and Jisung decided to embrace the winter wonderland. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow on the glistening snowflakes that danced in the air. You bundled up in your warmest coat, a fluffy scarf wrapped snugly around your neck, and a knitted beanie perched on your head. Jisung, with his playful spirit, was already outside, throwing snowballs and laughing as he challenged you to join him.

"Come on! You can't just stand there!" he called, his breath visible in the cold air. His cheeks were flushed from the chill, but his smile was warm and inviting.

With a playful grin, you dashed outside, feeling the crunch of snow beneath your boots. You quickly engaged in a snowball fight, your laughter echoing through the crisp winter air. Jisung's competitive nature shone as he dodged your throws, retaliating with perfectly aimed snowballs that hit you right on target. The two of you rolled around in the snow, making snow angels and building a snowman that ended up looking more like a snow blob, but you both loved it nonetheless.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you both decided to head back inside. The cold had seeped into your bones, but you felt exhilarated from the day’s fun. However, you didn’t realize that your excitement had come at a cost. The next morning, you woke up with a scratchy throat and a pounding headache.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" Jisung's voice was filled with concern as he entered your room, his eyes wide with worry.

"I think I might have caught a cold," you replied, trying to muster a smile despite feeling miserable.

Jisung immediately rushed to your side, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You should have told me to stop playing in the snow! I knew it was too cold!"

You chuckled softly, despite the discomfort. "It was worth it, though. I had so much fun with you."

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "You need to rest. I’ll take care of you." His determination was evident, and it warmed your heart even in your weakened state.

Jisung made his way to the kitchen, where he prepared a warm bowl of chicken soup. The aroma filled the room, making your stomach rumble even though you didn’t feel like eating. He returned with the steaming bowl, placing it on your bedside table.

"Here, eat this. It’ll help you feel better," he insisted, handing you a spoon.

You took a small sip, the warmth spreading through you. "Thank you, Jisung. You’re the best."

As you ate, he settled beside you, pulling out his phone. "Let’s watch a movie while you rest. Something funny to cheer you up?"

You nodded, grateful for his presence. He scrolled through options, finally settling on a light-hearted comedy. As the movie played, you found comfort in Jisung’s laughter, his joy infectious even in your state.

"Hey, Y/N," he said during a particularly funny scene, "promise me you won’t go out in the snow without a proper jacket next time?"

You laughed softly, "I promise, as long as you promise to join me."

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Deal! But only if you’re feeling better."

As the movie continued, you felt your eyelids growing heavy. Jisung noticed and gently nudged you. "Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet! I want to make sure you’re okay."

"I’m just resting my eyes," you murmured, but the warmth and comfort of his presence lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Hours later, you awoke to find Jisung still by your side, a blanket draped over you. He was watching you with a soft smile, his fingers gently brushing your hair back. "You scared me there for a moment. I thought you wouldn’t wake up."

You smiled weakly. "I’m sorry for worrying you."

He shook his head, leaning closer. "You’re worth the worry, Y/N. Just promise me you’ll take better care of yourself."

"I will," you promised, feeling grateful for his unwavering support.

As the days passed, Jisung remained by your side, making sure you had everything you needed. He brought you soup, kept you entertained with stories, and even read to you from your favorite books. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond, reminding you how lucky you were to have him.

Finally, after a few days of rest, you began to feel like yourself again. Jisung’s unwavering care had worked wonders, and you were ready to step back into the world, albeit with a newfound appreciation for warm jackets and cozy blankets.

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend’s Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo—your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there’s no escaping Chris—or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 9.4k

CHAPTER THREE:

Two days pass in a blur of restless thoughts and half-distracted tasks. You and Ava decide to blow off the tension with some much-needed retail therapy, roaming the racks of a bustling mall. It’s easy talk at first but eventually, the conversation circles back to the night everything exploded.

“So,” Ava prods, turning a hanger in her hand, “you gonna tell me more about you and Chris making out, or are you gonna keep me in the dark forever?”

You flush, half-hiding behind a hoodie you have no intention of buying. “It just… happened,” you mumble, recalling the heated kiss and the way things nearly went further. “I was hammered. He was there. We were alone. You know.”

Ava’s grin widens, catlike. “Alone in just your panties, playing strip pong, if I recall.” She pulls a face of mock innocence. “Totally normal scenario.”

You give her a playful shove and head for the register, trying to hide the flutter in your stomach. Despite the anger you still feel toward Chris, you can’t deny the memory of that kiss sends shivers down your spine.

Later that evening, you and Ava settle into a cozy booth at a small Italian restaurant—candles flicker on each table, and the scent of garlic bread drifts through the air. Over plates of pasta, you swap stories about the week’s ups and downs. Ava mentions Matt texting her random nudes to apologize for the headboard fiasco. You roll your eyes over Chris’s radio silence, trying to focus on the tangy sauce in front of you rather than the knot in your stomach.

Midway through dinner, Ava’s phone buzzes. She glances at the screen and her eyes go wide. “Oh my God,” she breathes, “we need to get home.”

You frown, twirling spaghetti around your fork. “Why? We just got our food.”

She slides her phone across the table, the screen still lit. “The boys just posted their first YouTube video.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Oh they finally posted?”

Ava nods, half exasperated, half impressed. “Apparently, yeah. It’s a get-to-know-us video or something. Matt told me they’ve been brainstorming for months. C’mon, I’m dying to see what these idiots came up with.”

You can’t help a curious smile, despite everything. “Fine,” you relent, signaling for the check.

You rush through the last bites of your meal, pay up, and head out into the crisp evening air, still chuckling about the inevitability of the Sturniolos launching a channel. Once back at your apartment, you barely toss your bags aside before Ava snags the TV remote, pulling up YouTube on the big screen. The bright platform logo loads, and your heart skitters with a mix of curiosity and residual frustration as she clicks into their brand-new channel.

Seconds later, the title card for their video appears, and you settle onto the couch with Ava, bracing yourselves to see what Chris and his brothers have done. Then she hits play, and the screen fades in—

The shot opens on three faces partially illuminated by the overhead light of Matt’s car, which is parked in an otherwise dark, mostly empty lot. The orange glow of a distant streetlamp outlines the windows, and the faint hum of traffic can be heard in the background. Matt is in the driver’s seat—though the car is off—looking a bit shy. Chris, baseball cap pulled low, lounges in the passenger seat, arms crossed casually. Nick, in the back seat, has leaned forward just enough to fit into frame.

Nick taps the record button on his phone. “Alright, we’re rolling,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “What’s up, everyone? Welcome to the Sturniolo Triplets channel. This is our first official ‘car video.’ Except, well—” he gestures at the darkness outside, “—we’re not exactly going anywhere tonight.”

Chris shifts in his seat, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, apparently it’s late and someone”—he jabs a thumb at Matt—“doesn’t wanna drive around after dark. Says we should film while parked.”

Matt clears his throat, cheeks coloring under the faint overhead light. “I just think it’s safer to, uh, not be distracted when we’re doing our first video. We’ll do actual drive-around vlogs some other time.”

Nick nods with an exaggerated seriousness. “We gotta ease into this, folks. Anyway, I’m Nick, that’s Matt—who, by the way, got his license at sixteen, not yesterday—and over here is Chris.” He tilts the camera slightly, capturing each brother. “We’re nineteen, from Summerville, and, well… we decided to start this channel to share our everyday life.”

Chris runs a hand over his cap. “Sounds about right. Alright, Nick, what are we doing tonight?”

Nick holds up his phone. “I asked some friends for questions—stuff so people can get to know us. Figured we’d tackle them one by one.” He swipes a thumb across the screen. “First question: Where exactly are you guys from, and how old are you? I know we kinda said it, but let’s make it official.”

Matt, still looking a little shy, clears his throat. “We’re from Summerville—just outside Boston. We’re nineteen. All of us. Triplets, you know.”

Nick grins into the camera. “Yep, so that’s that. Next question: Favorite colors. Go.”

“Blue,” Matt says quietly, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt. “It’s just, I don’t know, I’ve always liked it.”

Nick bobs his head. “Me, I’m all about purple. Highly underrated color. Vibrant, mysterious—kinda like me.” He wiggles his brows sarcastically, and Chris gives him a withering stare.

Rolling his shoulders, Chris glances at the camera. “Orange,” he says, almost curtly. “No big reason. I just like it.”

Nick scrolls again. “Right, next question… ‘Are you single or taken?’”

Chris’s jaw tightens, and he says nothing, turning his gaze to the dark parking lot outside. Nick notices but decides not to push him yet. Instead, Nick answers for himself: “I’m single, because I haven’t found a dilf yet,” he says with a stage whisper, making Matt choke on laughter.

Matt fans himself in mock exasperation. “Nick, what the hell?” But he’s still grinning. “Alright, well, I’m not single. I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend, Ava.” He unlocks his phone and holds the lockscreen up for the camera: a candid shot of Ava mid-laugh. “She’s awesome. We’ve been together for almost three years.”

Nick leans forward from the back seat, peering at the lockscreen. “That’s cute, man. Look at you, all smitten and shit.”

Matt ducks his head. “Whatever,” he mumbles, a proud little smile tugging at his lips. “She’s great.”

Nick sees an opening. “So, big question: How’d you meet?”

Matt exhales, glancing momentarily at Chris, then back at the camera. “Alright. Junior year of high school, and for context, Ava’s best friend is named Y/N, and Chris here was basically, uh…” He coughs awkwardly. “...dating Y/N. So Y/N brought Ava around to hang out one weekend—”

Chris snorts loudly from the passenger seat. “Dating is a strong word,” he says, voice edged with sarcasm.

Matt shoots him an annoyed look. “Chris, shut the fuck up. Anyway, Y/N brought Ava over and—I don’t know, man, I just fell for her instantly. She was so funny and beautiful.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Get that simp shit outta here, dude,” he mutters under his breath, arms crossing tighter.

Nick cringes, aiming a quick “Sorry, folks” look at the camera. “Ignore him. He’s cranky. Next question, anyone?”

Matt tries to refocus. “Right, next question,” he echoes, rattling off the typical Q&A stuff: worst fears, favorite foods, random celebrity crushes. Chris chimes in now and then with dry remarks, but mostly keeps his gaze on the window, occasionally letting out a derisive chuckle or rolling his eyes at Nick and Matt’s banter.

Nick finally waves a dramatic farewell at the lens. “Alright, that’s enough for our first official ‘car video’” he says. “Maybe next time we’ll be on the move. If you liked this, like and subscribe or something. I don’t know—help us out.”

Matt musters a small smile, leaning forward to stop the recording. “See you guys next time.”

The screen fades to black.

The newly uploaded car video ends, replaced by YouTube’s recommended thumbnails. Ava shuts off the TV with a grimace, letting out a long sigh.

“Did you see Chris’s face?” she asks, raking a hand through her hair. “Every time Matt brought up anything about us, he was just… so passive-aggressive.”

You lean back against the couch cushions, exhaling. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s like he can’t stand even the mention of that time in high school yet he had no problem bringing it up when he was drunk and horny and all over me.” Your stomach twists at the memory of Chris’s snort when Matt called it dating. “I get it if he has regrets or bitterness, but did he have to say that stuff on camera and then post it online?”

Ava folds her arms, shaking her head. “Right? Like, ‘get that simp shit outta here’? Excuse me, let Matt have his moment! He was being sweet—he’s not a fucking simp for talking about how much he loves me. And calling it a ‘strong word’ when he was obviously your… I don’t know.” She frowns, searching for the right term.

You grimace. “We were more than friends, at the very least, I mean he was my first everything. But apparently, Chris is tryna rewrite the past now.”

Ava clicks her tongue. “That’s messed up. I mean, Nick tries so hard to keep the vibe light, and Matt—poor Matt—he’s just excited to share, you know? It’s their first video. They want it to be a success. Then Chris has to go all moody.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s always had a sarcastic streak, but this was fucking personal. He’s clearly extra upset about all this, especially after Dennys.”

Ava rests her chin on her hand, brow furrowed. “Yeah, well, he’s not doing himself any favors. Imagine being a new subscriber and seeing him sulking the whole time.”

You huff a short laugh. “At least the rest of the video was entertaining. Nick’s bit about hunting for a dilf was hilarious.”

Ava giggles, though it’s short-lived. “I just wish Chris could be more supportive. Matt’s shy, we know that, and this is big for him. They’re not even moving the car, so that should’ve been easy, right?”

You nod firmly. “Exactly. If Chris wants to brood, he can do it off-camera. Instead, he’s gotta make those little digs. It was so uncomfortable to watch.”

Ava sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Part of me wants to text Matt, make sure he’s okay. And then another part of me wants to call Chris out on his bullshit.”

Your lips quirk up wryly. “Could do both. But maybe let them have their moment. If they’re serious about this channel, they’ll have to figure out that dynamic sooner or later.”

She gives you a sidelong look. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s just… it’s so rude, right?”

“Completely,” you agree, folding your legs beneath you. 

Ava slumps deeper into the couch, crossing her arms as she stares at the now-blank TV screen. The frustration on her face hasn’t budged since the video ended. “Y’know,” she begins, voice taut, “it’s not just Chris being rude that bothers me—though that’s bad enough. It’s how Matt is practically too shy to get a word in, and whenever he tries, someone interrupts him.”

You nod, recalling how many times Matt started to speak, only for Chris or Nick to jump in. “He did look pretty nervous.”

Ava makes a tiny, annoyed sound in the back of her throat. “He’s always been anxious. He likes the idea of this YouTube stuff, but he’s a quiet person, you know? Then Chris and Nick just bulldoze over him. I mean, Nick does it in a playful way, but Chris?” She shakes her head, lip curling. “Every time Matt tried to share something, Chris had a snarky comment ready.”

You fiddle with a piece of lint on the couch. “I could see Matt clamming up whenever Chris made those little digs. He’d just… shut down.”

“Exactly,” Ava sighs. “And it’s their first video—shouldn’t they be encouraging each other? Especially Chris, since he’s so confident on camera. But he was practically rolling his eyes at everything Matt said.”

A wave of sympathy washes over you. “Matt was so excited to talk about how you two met,” you say gently, picturing the shy pride on Matt’s face whenever he brought up Ava. “Plus literally dogged on me in front of the whole internet. Name out and everything.” 

Ava purses her lips, irritation glowing in her eyes. “Right. He basically belittled anything that happened between you guys, which is rude in itself, but worse, it cut Matt off mid-thought. Like, let the boy speak!” She exhales hard. “Matt’s never been the type to assert himself, especially not on camera. He hates confrontation—always has.”

“Yeah,” you agree, remembering countless times Matt dodged drama in high school, well just dodged highschool in general. “It’s not easy for him to push back when Chris is in a mood.”

Ava’s expression darkens a bit. “He shouldn’t even have to push back. They’re brothers, for crying out loud—you’d think Chris would at least let Matt finish a sentence without being an asshole.”

You catch the protective tone in Ava’s voice and press your lips together. “Are you gonna say anything to Matt about it?”

She chews on her thumbnail, debating. “I want to. But I know he’ll just shrug it off, say it’s no big deal. He’s used to being outtalked by his brothers.”

Your chest pinches at the thought—Matt, sweet and quiet, swallowed by his siblings’ bigger personalities. “I mean, hopefully Nick sees it, too, and tries to help, right? He usually has a decent read on when Chris is out of line.”

Ava nods, though she still looks wound up. “Yeah, Nick tries. I just hate seeing Matt’s excitement overshadowed by Chris’s bullshit. One or two comments is one thing, but he barely let Matt breathe.”

“We can’t exactly force them to film differently, but maybe you could remind Matt he has a right to speak up. If he wants to start a channel, his voice should matter, you know?”

Ava inhales, shoulders lifting with tension. “You’re right. I guess I’ll talk to him, casually. Tell him I love hearing what he has to say.” She huffs a short laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “God, it’s ridiculous we even have to worry about this. It’s their first fucking video.”

You laugh. “Exactly! It might seem to Chris or Nick that we’re being dramatic but Matt is literally a baby. That's like my son.” 

Ava sets her phone aside, chewing on her lower lip as though turning a new idea over in her head. “Hey,” she begins, glancing at you. “What if we invite them over? Like, we can do a little ‘congrats on your first video’ celebration—just something small. I’ll talk to Matt then, and maybe even Chris.”

You hesitate, recalling Chris’s less-than-stellar attitude in the vlog. “I don’t know,” you mutter, picking at a loose thread on your shirt. “I mean, Chris was so… bitchy. Do I really want him in my living room acting like that?”

Ava sighs, shoulders slumping. “Believe me, I get it. But Nick and Matt deserve some positive reinforcement, right? They at least deserve to see that we’re proud of them, especially after all the nerves Matt had.”

You let out a small groan, torn between your lingering annoyance and the genuine desire to support Matt and Nick. “Fine,” you relent at last. “I do want to celebrate them. I just hope Chris doesn’t wreck the vibe.”

Ava’s face lights up with a determined grin. “Perfect. Let’s do this right—we’ll grab a little cake, some balloons, maybe a pizza. We can’t make it huge, but at least it’ll be fun.”

“Pizza?” you echo dryly. “We literally just ate.”

She shrugs, already hopping off the couch to grab her wallet. “Pizza’s timeless, Y/N. Let’s go. If we text Matt and say ‘come over in an hour,’ that should give us time.”

You find yourself mirroring her excitement, a smile creeping in despite your nerves. “Alright, let’s make it quick,” you say. “We’ll pick up decorations on the way.”

After a hurried drive through town, you and Ava dart into a party supply store, scouring the aisles for cheap balloons and a congratulatory banner. You settle on a simple metallic one that reads CONGRATS!—it’s not exactly “Congrats on Your First YouTube Video,” but it’ll do in a pinch. Ava practically bounces from shelf to shelf, gathering colorful balloons, while you pop over to the bakery section next door to grab a small sheet cake. The design is basic—white frosting with a swirl of confetti sprinkles—but you ask them to write CONGRATS across the top in purple, blue, and orange icing.

Once you’re juggling balloons, a cake box, and a bag of plastic plates, Ava steers you to the pizza place around the corner. She orders one large pepperoni and one plain cheese, plus a side of breadsticks—“Just in case,” she says, winking as you roll your eyes.

Standing by the soda fridge, you pull out your phone to text Matt:

Y/N: Hey, can you come over in about an hour with your brothers? Ava wants to celebrate your first vid! We have a little surprise. 

Matt: That sounds awesome. Let me check with them—brb. 

A few seconds later, his response flashes:

Matt: Nick’s in. Chris said whatever. I’ll bring him anyway. See you soon :)

You sigh, showing Ava the text. “Chris is, as usual, thrilled to come.”

She wrinkles her nose. “We’ll deal. Maybe with food and a little hype, he’ll chill out.”

“We can hope,” you reply, though your stomach is still knotted with apprehension.

Back at your apartment, you and Ava scramble to set up. Balloons get haphazardly taped to the walls, the small banner gets draped along the mantel, and you put the cake and pizza boxes onto the kitchen counter. The place smells faintly of fresh pizza sauce, and despite the rush, a cozy energy settles in.

Ava pulls down her crop top, taking one last look around. “Alright,” she exhales. “This is as good as it’s gonna get on short notice.”

You nod, glancing at your phone to check the time. “They should be here any minute.” Though a flutter of anxiety tugs in your chest—Chris’s mood looms over your thoughts—you still feel a warm spark of excitement for Nick and Matt.

The sound of footsteps echoes in the hallway just before a sharp knock at the door. Ava rushes over to open it, and the triplets pile inside in their usual chaotic fashion. Nick is first, grinning wide as his eyes sweep the apartment. “Whoa! You guys went all out for us?” he exclaims, pointing at the balloons and banner.

Matt follows, carrying a bag of soda bottles. His shy smile brightens at the sight of the decorations. “This is awesome. You really didn’t have to—”

Chris steps in last, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets. His usual sarcastic smirk is replaced by a genuine look of surprise as he takes it all in. “Yo,” he says, gaze landing on the cake. “Did you seriously get a cake for this? That’s kinda dope.”

Ava beams, motioning for them to come all the way in. “Of course, we did! Your first video deserves a celebration. Pizza’s on the counter, and there’s cake after.”

Nick spins in a circle, taking it all in with exaggerated awe. “This is better than any party we’ve ever thrown,” he jokes, making Chris laugh.

“Low bar,” Chris quips, grabbing a slice of pizza. “We usually just sit around eating stale chips.”

You exchange a glance with Ava, a silent note of relief passing between you. Chris doesn’t seem moody or withdrawn like he’s been the past times you’ve interacted. Instead, he’s leaning into his usual ADHD-driven energy, bouncing from the pizza to the balloons to the banner with lighthearted comments. It reminds you of the old him and your old dynamic before things got fucked up.

“This is fucking awesome” he says, pointing at the metallic CONGRATS! sign. “Where’d you even find that?”

“Party store,” you reply, biting back a laugh as he nods approvingly.

As the boys settle into the space, Ava nudges Matt lightly and tilts her head toward the hallway. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?” she asks.

Matt hesitates, glancing at his brothers. “Uh, sure.”

You catch Ava’s eye and follow the two of them to the hallway, leaving the others by the pizza. Nick and Chris don’t seem to notice at first, too busy bantering about which balloon color is better.

Once in the hallway, Ava crosses her arms, her voice soft but serious. “Matt, I wanted to check in about the car video. You seemed really anxious, and Chris kept interrupting you. It kinda bugged me, honestly.”

Matt rubs the back of his neck, cheeks reddening. “Oh yeah, I was a little nervous. But it’s fine. You know how I get in front of people. Chris was just being Chris.”

“It’s not fine,” you chime in, arms crossed. “He didn’t just interrupt you—he was being a moody brat who couldn’t wait his turn to speak.”

Unbeknownst to you, Chris has wandered closer to the hallway. He freezes mid-step, hearing your words. His relaxed demeanor vanishes as his face hardens. “Oh, a moody brat?” Chris’s tone was sharp, his expression dark as he stepped into view from around the corner. “That’s what you think of me?”

You froze, your stomach sinking as his gaze locked onto you. “Chris, I didn’t mean—”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “You meant exactly what you said. Go on, let’s hear it. What else am I? A selfish asshole? A shitty brother?”

“Chris, calm down,” Ava said, stepping in. “She wasn’t trying to attack you—”

“Oh, don’t start,” Chris interrupted, turning his anger on her. “Of course you’d jump in to defend her. You always have something to say, don’t you?”

Ava’s jaw dropped, her own frustration flaring. “Excuse me? Don’t take your shit out on me just because you can’t handle a little criticism!”

“Criticism?” Chris barked, his voice rising. “You mean this little intervention where you all gang up on me and call me names behind my back?”

“We weren’t ganging up on you!” Ava shot back. “We were talking about how Matt couldn’t get a word in because you wouldn’t let him.”

“That’s enough!” Matt’s voice cut through the argument like a whip, startling everyone into silence. His face was red, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. He stepped forward, his glare pinned on Chris.

“You don’t get to yell at her,” Matt said, his voice trembling with anger. “She’s only trying to help me. And she’s right—you were out of line in the car video. You didn’t let me talk, and you made me feel like an idiot for even trying.”

Chris’s mouth opened, but Matt held up a hand. “No. I’m not finished. You act like it’s some huge inconvenience to let me have a moment. But guess what, Chris? You’re not the only one who matters. This channel isn’t just about you.”

Nick appeared in the doorway, his pizza forgotten. “Whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, his eyes darting between everyone.

“Chris is losing his shit because we called him out for being rude,” Ava said, her voice tight.

“Rude?” Chris echoed, his voice shaking with barely contained anger. “You mean honest? Sorry if I’m not sugarcoating everything like you two.”

“You weren’t honest,” you snapped, your own frustration boiling over. “You were mean. You steamrolled Matt, you dogged on me, shitted on their relationship, and now you’re trying to justify it by yelling at us? Grow up, Chris.”

Chris turned his glare back on you, his hands twitching at his sides. “You’re one to talk about growing up. Maybe you should focus on your own shit before coming after me.”

“Enough!” Matt shouted again. He stepped between you and Chris, his face flushed with anger. “I’m so sick of this. Chris, stop taking your problems out on everyone else. Ava and Y/N didn’t deserve that, and you know it.”

The hallway fell silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Chris looked away, his jaw clenched, while Ava placed a hand on Matt’s arm.

Nick exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, can we please not burn the apartment down? I get it—there’s stuff to work through. But maybe we can do that without screaming at each other? The fuck?”

You crossed your arms, your heart still pounding. “Fine by me,” you muttered, though your gaze lingered on Chris, who still refused to meet your eyes.

“Let’s just… go eat cake,” Matt said, his voice weary. He turned and headed back toward the living room, Ava following close behind. Nick trailed after them, casting a concerned glance over his shoulder at you and Chris.

Chris lingered for a moment, his shoulders tense. Finally, he muttered, “Whatever,” and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway with a storm of emotions swirling in your chest.

The celebration had been meant to bring everyone together, but instead, it had cracked the fragile dynamic even further.

You took a deep breath, standing in the empty hallway as Chris’s footsteps receded. Your chest felt tight, the lingering tension from the argument swirling in your mind. For a brief moment, you debated staying behind, letting the others enjoy the cake and pretending none of this had happened. But you knew that wasn’t an option—not really.

With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and headed back into the living room. The atmosphere had shifted; the room felt quieter, the earlier excitement dulled. Ava was cutting the cake, her movements a little more forceful than usual, while Matt stood next to her, hands shoved in his pockets. Nick was sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

Chris was leaning against the counter near the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was relaxed, but you could tell he was still stewing, the tension radiating off him like heat waves.

You took a seat on the armrest of the couch, trying to gauge the mood. Ava handed out plates of cake, her usual cheerful banter replaced by a quiet efficiency. When she placed a slice in front of Chris, he nodded mutely, not meeting her eyes.

“So,” Nick said, breaking the silence as he grabbed his own slice of cake. “Anyone wanna talk about literally anything else?”

The attempt at levity was met with a few weak chuckles. Matt shot Nick a grateful look before sitting down with Ava, who instinctively leaned into his side. You noticed the way Matt’s hand brushed lightly against her back—a subtle gesture of reassurance.

“Good cake,” Nick said through a mouthful. “Not gonna lie, this almost makes up for all the yelling.”

Chris snorted softly, finally looking up. “Almost.”

The conversation meandered awkwardly, everyone trying to fill the space without addressing the elephant in the room. You toyed with your fork, not really hungry, and avoided Chris’s gaze when it flicked your way. It was clear he was holding back something—whether it was more anger or an apology, you couldn’t tell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nick clapped his hands together. “Alright, I’ve had enough of this depressing-ass vibe. Let’s go do something.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Nick’s grin was mischievous. “Let’s go to the park and mess around. Smoke a little, swing on the swings—anything to get out of this apartment.”

Matt glanced at Ava, who nodded with a shrug. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

One by one, everyone agreed, the idea of fresh air and a change of scenery too tempting to pass up. After you all smoked in your apartment, you grabbed a hoodie on the way out, trailing behind the group as you made your way to the nearby park.

The park was quiet, the swings and play structures bathed in the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp. The cool night air felt refreshing against your skin, and for the first time in hours, you felt your shoulders relax.

Nick immediately headed for the swings, pushing himself back and forth with exaggerated enthusiasm. “This is the shit,” he said, laughing as he swung higher. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

Matt and Ava claimed the bench near the swings, sitting close together as Ava leaned her head on his shoulder. Chris hung back for a moment, his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets as he watched Nick swing.

You took a seat on the swing next to Nick, letting the gentle rocking motion soothe your nerves. Chris eventually wandered over, leaning against the swing set post. His gaze flicked to you briefly before settling on the ground.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, his voice low.

You hesitated but nodded, scooting over slightly as he took the swing beside you. For a while, neither of you spoke, the quiet punctuated only by the creak of the chains and Nick’s occasional whoops.

Finally, Chris broke the silence. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted.” 

You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. His eyes, slightly red from earlier, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“I know I’ve been a dick,” he continued, his hand gripping the chain of the swing. “In the car, in the hallway… I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. Before you could respond, Chris reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver through you.

“I just…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before returning to yours. “You gotta watch your mouth, though. Calling me a ‘moody brat’? Kinda bold of you.”

There was a flicker of a smirk on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face slightly so you couldn’t look away. “You’ve always had a way of pushing my buttons, you know that?”

The tension between you crackled, the space between your bodies feeling impossibly small despite the openness of the park. His thumb brushed against your jawline, a touch so deliberate it made your pulse race.

“Chris,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in slightly, his red-rimmed eyes locking onto yours. “I’m just saying,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Next time you wanna call me out, maybe don’t do it when I’m already on edge.”

You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or threatening—or something else entirely. All you knew was that the weight of his gaze and the warmth of his hand against your skin were making it hard to think straight.

In the distance, you heard Matt laughing as he jumped off his swing. Ava’s voice carried through the night as she scolded him, but the sounds felt distant, like they belonged to another world. Here, in this moment, it was just you and Chris.

The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate as everyone made their way back to the apartment. By the time you stepped inside, the atmosphere had shifted to something lighter, almost playful. Ava unlocked the door, pushing it open with a grin.

“Okay, so,” she declared, kicking off her shoes, “Everyone’s staying over, and we’re drinking. No arguments.”

Nick immediately threw his arms in the air. “Hell yes! I knew I liked you for a reason, Ava.”

Chris snorted, leaning against the doorframe as he toed off his sneakers. “Like anyone’s gonna say no to free booze.”

Matt hesitated, glancing at Ava. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “We don’t wanna impose.”

Ava rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the strings of his hoodie, tugging him inside. “Matt, you’re my boyfriend. You couldn’t impose if you tried. Now get your ass on the couch.”

You laughed, heading for the kitchen to grab drinks. By the time you returned with a mix of beers, seltzers, and a bottle of vodka, Nick had already connected to the Bluetooth speaker, blasting an absurd mix of nostalgic throwbacks and hits.

Ava clapped her hands together, her grin devilish. “Alright, people. We’re drinking, and I don’t want anyone pussying out.”

“Define ‘wimping out,’” Chris teased, cracking open a beer. “Because I’m not doing vodka shots if that’s where this is headed.” 

“Lightweight,” Nick muttered, earning a glare from Chris.

The night spiraled quickly into a mess of drinking games, loud music, and questionable dares. Nick tried balancing a spoon on his nose (and failed miserably), Matt spent ten minutes figuring out how to shuffle cards for a drinking game, and Ava made everyone take a collective shot “just cause.”

When someone suggested playing Intimacy Dice, a game Ava had pulled from the back of her closet, chaos was inevitable. Two dice: one with body parts, the other with actions. The rules were simple—roll and do whatever the dice dictated.

“This is going to be a train wreck,” Nick declared, grinning as he picked up the dice.

“Exactly the point,” Ava shot back, handing him the dice first.

Nick rolled, and the dice tumbled to a stop: lick and toes.

The room exploded with laughter as Ava’s name was called.

“Oh, come on!” she groaned. “Why do I have to lick Nick’s gross-ass toes?”

“Rules are rules,” Chris said smugly, leaning back with his beer like he was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

Ava rolled her eyes dramatically, kneeling down as Nick gleefully stuck his socked foot in her direction. “Fine,” she huffed, pulling off the sock and gagging for added effect. “But I’m never forgiving you for this.”

“Take one for the team!” you cheered, your sides aching from laughing so hard.

With exaggerated reluctance, Ava leaned in and barely grazed the tip of Nick’s big toe with her tongue before shooting upright. “Done!” she declared, grabbing her drink and chugging half of it. “That was disgusting.”

Nick was practically rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “You’re a hero, Ava. A true inspiration.”

Your turn came next. You rolled the dice, holding your breath as they clattered across the floor. When they finally stopped, the room went silent.

Kiss and lips.

“Y/N and Matt!” Ava announced gleefully, pointing at the two of you.

Matt’s face turned beet red as he glanced at Ava nervously. “Uh…”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. Your eyes darted to Ava, who was clearly trying not to burst out laughing, then to Chris. His expression was unreadable, though the way he sipped his beer a little harder than usual wasn’t lost on you.

“It’s just a game,” Ava said, waving her hand. “Go on! It’s not like I’m gonna get mad.”

Matt hesitated for another second before finally leaning forward, his cheeks blazing. “Okay,” he muttered. “Let’s just… get it over with.”

The kiss was quick—a soft brush of lips that lasted barely a second—but it sent a ripple of awkward laughter through the group.

“See?” Ava said, grinning. “No big deal!”

“Yeah, no big deal,” Chris echoed, his tone sharper than necessary. You glanced at him again, noticing the tightness in his jaw and the way his knuckles whitened around his beer.

The game continued, but the tension lingering between you and Chris was impossible to ignore. Every time you caught his eye, there was an edge to his gaze, something simmering beneath the surface that he didn’t—or wouldn’t—acknowledge.

By the time Nick rolled again and burst out laughing at another absurd combination, the alcohol was hitting hard, and the night had officially veered into chaos.

The dice tumbled across the floor again, the room falling silent as everyone leaned in to see what Ava’s roll would dictate. When the dice stopped, the words rub and over clothes faced up, and Nick immediately burst into laughter.

“Oh my God,” he howled, pointing at Matt. “It’s you!”

Matt’s face turned beet red as all eyes shifted to him. Ava, however, wasn’t fazed at all. Instead, she grinned, a mischievous sparkle lighting up her eyes as she turned to her boyfriend.

“Well, well,” she teased, biting her lip to stifle a giggle. “Looks like it’s my lucky night.”

Matt laughed, burying his face in his hands. “Ava, we don’t have to—”

“Oh, come on,” she interrupted, moving to sit next to him. “We’re literally dating. It’s not like I haven’t done this before.”

Chris choked on his drink, Nick howled with laughter, and you found yourself half-hiding behind a throw pillow, your own face burning from excitement. 

“You’re really gonna do this?” Chris asked, his voice tinged with both disbelief and amusement.

“Absolutely,” Ava replied without hesitation, already positioning herself to straddle Matt’s lap. “Rules are rules, right?”

Matt peeked up at her, his face still flushed. “You’re way too excited about this.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said with a wink, leaning in closer. “Of course I’m excited.”

The rest of you erupted into laughter as Ava started playfully rubbing her hands over Matt’s chest and thighs, clearly enjoying both his embarrassment and the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Don’t make it weird, Matt,” Nick called out, nearly in tears from laughing so hard. “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

“Oh, shut up,” Matt muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.

Ava leaned closer, her voice dropping just enough for only Matt to hear. “Relax, babe,” she teased, her hands brushing over his jeans in a way that made his whole body tense. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Matt let out a nervous laugh, and the rest of you doubled over, the absurdity of the moment breaking whatever tension lingered from earlier. Even Chris was smirking now, shaking his head as he took another sip of his beer. 

Ava grinned wickedly as she climbed onto Matt’s lap, completely unbothered by the attention from the rest of you. Her confidence and excitement were palpable, and it only made Matt blush harder, his hands nervously resting on her thighs as she settled in.

“Okay,” she said with a playful smirk, running her hands over his shoulders first. “Let’s see how far we can push this without you making a mess of yourself.”

Matt groaned, leaning his head back against the couch, his cheeks still a deep shade of red. “Sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

“That’s the point,” she teased, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Rules are rules, babe.”

The room was filled with laughter, Nick practically doubled over on the floor as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Oh my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he gasped, clutching his stomach.

Even Chris was leaning forward in his seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Matt, kid, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Chris,” Matt muttered, his voice strained, “shut up.”

Ava’s hands moved lower, pressing lightly against Matt’s stomach before slipping down to the front of his jeans. She rubbed him gently over the fabric, her grin growing as she felt him stiffen beneath her touch. “Oh,” she cooed, her tone both teasing and affectionate. “Someone’s enjoying this.”

Matt groaned again, his hands gripping her hips as he tried to shift away, but Ava didn’t let up. Her movements stayed playful, light enough to make him squirm but not enough to push things too far.

“Ava,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low, “seriously, you’re going to kill me.”

“Not yet,” she teased, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “But I’m having way too much fun watching you suffer.”

The rest of you were practically crying with laughter, the absurdity of the moment too much to handle. Nick fell over onto the floor, gasping for air between fits of giggles, while Chris shook his head, his smirk widening.

“This is peak entertainment,” Chris said, his voice laced with amusement. “Matt, you’re a champ for putting up with this.”

Matt shot him a glare but couldn’t say much else as Ava’s hands continued to move, her touch just firm enough to keep him completely flustered. His breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body tense.

“Okay, okay,” Ava finally said, pulling her hands back and laughing as she sat up straighter. “I think that’s enough for now. Don’t wanna break you.”

Matt let out a long, shaky breath, his face still bright red as he muttered, “You already did.”

The room exploded with laughter again, Nick literally rolling on the floor as he clapped his hands. “Ava, you’re insane,” he declared, wiping his face.

Ava leaned in to kiss Matt’s forehead, her expression softening just a bit. “You did great, babe,” she teased, patting his chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

Matt groaned, hiding his face in her shoulder as the rest of you continued to laugh and tease. Even though he was mortified, the warmth in his eyes as he looked at Ava made it clear he wasn’t mad—just very, very embarrassed.

The room was still buzzing with laughter from Ava and Matt’s ridiculous display when Nick grabbed the dice, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. He held them up dramatically, shaking them for effect before letting them clatter onto the floor. Everyone leaned forward, waiting for the result.

Makeout and partner’s choice.

The room went silent for half a second before Nick, ever the showman, jumped up and pointed at you. “Y/N! You’re my partner of choice,” he announced, waggling his eyebrows.

Your eyes widened as laughter erupted around you. “Say less, mama. C‘mere.”

“HAAAAAA” Ava laughed, clearly enjoying your mortification as much as everyone else had enjoyed hers. Matt, still recovering from Ava’s teasing, managed a weak chuckle.

Nick strolled over to you, extending a hand like a gentleman. “Milady,” he said dramatically, “I promise to be gentle.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help laughing as you let him pull you up from the couch. “Two minutes? That’s insane.”

Chris, who had been leaning back with his beer, suddenly straightened in his seat. His jaw tightened as his gaze flicked between you and Nick. “You better keep it PG,” he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to catch.

Nick ignored him, his grin unwavering. “Alright, someone set a timer!” he called out, glancing at Ava, who gleefully grabbed her phone.

“Timer’s ready,” Ava announced, holding it up like a referee at a sporting event. “And… go!”

Nick didn’t waste any time, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. You had expected it to be awkward and funny—just another silly moment in the ridiculous night—but Nick, to his credit, was surprisingly good at this. His hands rested lightly on your waist, and his kiss was playful, soft, and just a little teasing.

The room erupted with cheers and wolf whistles. “Get it, Nick!” Ava shouted, nearly falling off the couch as she laughed.

Matt shook his head, laughing along. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Meanwhile, Chris’s expression darkened. His beer sat untouched in his hand as his eyes locked on the two of you, a muscle in his jaw ticking. You caught his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and for a split second, you could swear you saw something more than annoyance—something sharper, hotter.

Nick, oblivious to the rising tension, deepened the kiss slightly, his thumb brushing your side as he leaned in closer. You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips, the ridiculousness of the situation making it impossible to take seriously.

“Thirty seconds left!” Ava announced, giggling uncontrollably.

Chris muttered something under his breath, his knuckles tightening around his beer bottle. He leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze never leaving you and Nick. The air between you and Chris felt charged, like an undercurrent of something unspoken was threatening to surface.

When Ava finally shouted, “Time’s up!” Nick pulled back with a triumphant grin, his lips still slightly red. “Well,” he said, pretending to adjust an imaginary tie, “that was magical. You’re welcome, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you pushed his chest lightly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

The room was alive with laughter and jokes, but you couldn’t ignore the way Chris’s gaze lingered on you. His expression was a mix of frustration and something else—something darker that sent a shiver down your spine.

Nick plopped back onto the couch, throwing an arm over the back as if nothing had happened. Chris, however, stood abruptly, muttering something about getting another drink as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Ava leaned toward you, whispering, “Did you see Chris’s face? He looked like he was about to explode.”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where Chris was pointedly not looking at anyone, and felt a pang of unease mixed with something you couldn’t quite name. 

Chris strolled back into the room, his face unreadable as he grabbed a beer from the counter and leaned casually against the couch. The energy in the room had shifted slightly since Nick’s turn, and you could feel Chris’s gaze flick toward you every now and then, sharp and assessing.

“Alright,” Nick said, handing Chris the dice with an exaggerated flourish. “Your turn, bro. Don’t wimp out on us.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Like I’d ever wimp out,” he said, shaking the dice with a deliberate slowness that made everyone groan.

“Just roll already!” Ava laughed, still curled up next to Matt.

Chris finally tossed the dice onto the floor. Everyone leaned forward to see the result, and the room went dead silent as the words hickeys and boobs faced up.

“Holy shit,” Nick breathed, his face lighting up with mischievous glee. “This is about to get interesting.”

Matt immediately turned to Ava. “Not happening,” he said firmly, his protective instincts kicking in before anyone could even suggest her name.

Ava raised her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m off-limits.”

Chris’s eyes flicked toward you, and you froze as the realization hit. He couldn’t pick Ava, which left… you.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and low as his gaze locked onto yours, “looks like you’re up, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and the room collectively erupted into laughter and cheers. “Are we deadass right now.” you protested, your face heating up.

“Rules are rules,” Nick said, barely holding back his laughter.

Chris set his beer down, standing up and extending a hand toward you. “C’mere,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Chris settled back onto the couch, motioning for you to come closer. The room felt electric, charged with a mix of laughter and tension as you hesitated for a moment. Then, with every eye on you, you slowly made your way toward him, your heartbeat pounding louder with each step.

He reached out, taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap with a confidence that made your stomach flip. His hands rested on your waist, steadying you as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Relax,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m not gonna bite—unless you ask.

“Hey,” Ava said, waving her hand like a referee. “No funny business, Chris.”

Chris smirked, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to mischief. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ve got this under control.”

His hands slid up your sides, his movements slow and deliberate as he hooked his fingers under the hem of your shirt. “This okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, meant only for you.

You swallowed hard, nodding, your cheeks burning. The room had fallen eerily quiet, everyone watching with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.

Chris lifted your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the floor. Then, with a quick, practiced motion, he unhooked your bra and let it fall forward, though he made sure to keep your back to the rest of the room. From their vantage point, all anyone could see was your bare shoulders and the curve of your spine.

He glanced around the room briefly, addressing the group. “Just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone light but carrying a hint of warning, “this is for my eyes only.” 

“You good?” Chris murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands settled back on your hips.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His fingers trailed lightly over your skin, sending a shiver through you before he leaned forward, his lips pressing against the curve of your shoulder. He started slow, his mouth warm and deliberate as he worked his way toward the base of your neck. Each kiss was soft but insistent, and you felt your pulse quicken as his teeth grazed your skin, just enough to make you gasp.

“Jesus,” Nick muttered from somewhere behind you, breaking the silence. “This is… wow.”

“Yeah I’m horny as fuck” Ava sighed, though her tone was more amused than anything.

Chris ignored them, his focus entirely on you. His lips moved with precision, leaving a trail of red marks along your skin, his breath warm against you. His hands tightened slightly on your hips, holding you steady as he pressed another kiss just above your collarbone, lingering longer this time.

Chris’s hands stayed firmly on your waist, his thumbs brushing the curve of your hips as he leaned in again, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re so tense,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “We’ve got time.”

Before you could respond, his lips found your collarbone again, trailing down with unhurried precision. He pressed another kiss just above the swell of your chest, his mouth lingering longer this time. The warmth of his breath against your skin made your pulse race, and you gripped his jeans tighter, trying to ground yourself.

“Chris,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He hummed softly, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. “Hmm? Something you wanna say?”

Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot just below your collarbone, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through you. He pulled back slightly, his red-rimmed eyes meeting yours with a mix of mischief and intensity.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone condescending.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. Chris tilted his head, studying you for a moment before leaning back in. This time, his kisses were slower, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your tits. He left a trail of faint red marks, each one deliberate and placed with care around your nipples, like he was painting a picture only the two of you could see.

The room around you felt like it had disappeared entirely. You were vaguely aware of the occasional murmur or laugh from your friends, but their voices were distant, muted by the pounding of your heart and the heat of Chris’s touch.

His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs as he tilted his head to press another kiss just above your sternum. He paused, his tongue flicking lightly over the mark he’d just made, soothing the sting before moving to a new spot.

“You’re letting me take my time,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “I didn’t expect that.”

You swallowed hard, your voice shaky. “What do you mean?”

Chris chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your chest. “You’ve always been a little stubborn. I figured you’d push me away by now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his lips found your nipple, and all coherent thoughts evaporated. His teeth grazed your skin, just enough to make you gasp, and his hands tightened on your waist, holding you steady as your body instinctively grinded down on him.

The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating, as his kisses became more purposeful, more insistent. He moved to your other nipple, leaving a series of marks along your breast that you knew would linger long after the night was over.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Chris leaned back slightly, his hands moving back to your waist. “All done,” he said softly, though his eyes lingered on your purple and red chest for a moment longer.

“Damn,” Nick said, shaking his head with a grin and leaning over to catch a glimpse. “Chris, you didn’t have to make it an art form.”

“Shut up,” Chris muttered, though his smirk betrayed his amusement. He picked up his beer again, taking a slow sip as he leaned back into the couch. “Don’t look at that,”

Ava gave you a knowing look, her grin playful. “You good, Y/N? You look a little… flustered.”

You avoided Chris’s gaze, your cheeks burning as you focused on adjusting your shirt. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was still racing.

Chris leaned closer to grab his beer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re fine, huh?” His eyes glinted with that same mix of mischief and heat. “Good to know.”

Chris smirked as you fumbled to put your shirt and bra back on, his eyes lingering just a little too long as you adjusted the fabric over your chest. Before you could fully settle back onto the couch, he caught your waist with one hand and turned you around so you were sitting sideways on his lap. The movement was seamless, and natural, as though he had done this a hundred times before with you. Which wasn’t nesicarily a lie. 

“Whoa,” you mumbled, caught off guard.

He chuckled softly, his other arm coming around your waist, resting there with a protective ease. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and calm. “You look more comfortable here.”

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the weight of his arm across your waist grounding you. But what made your breath hitch was the distinct pressure beneath you, the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh and lower back. Your cheeks burned as you tried not to squirm, hyperaware of every shift in your position.

Chris’s grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in a way that sent a shiver through you. He didn’t say anything about your reaction, but the faint smirk on his lips suggested he knew exactly what you were feeling.

“You good?” he asked, knowing damn well.

You nodded quickly, your hands nervously clutching your knees. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

The game continued, though your focus was shot. Every time someone laughed or shouted, it felt like background noise compared to the steady rise and fall of Chris’s chest against your back. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, his fingers occasionally flexing, sending small jolts of heat through you.

Nick rolled another absurd combination and ended up having to kiss Avas neck, which sent everyone into fits of laughter. Ava, still giggling, leaned into Matt, her head resting on his shoulder as the group wound down.

Eventually, the game fizzled out, everyone too tired or too drunk to keep it going. Nick sprawled out on the floor, groaning. “Alright, I call dibs on sleeping in Y/N’s bed,” he announced, throwing an arm over his face dramatically.

You laugh but agree nonetheless. 

“I don’t wanna deal with Chris kicking me all night. And the couch sucks.”

Chris’s arm tensed around your waist for a brief second before he let out a low laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone sharp. “Enjoy.”

Ava stretched, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. “Matt and I are obviously taking my room,” she said, standing and pulling Matt to his feet.

Chris shifted beneath you, his hand dropping from your waist as he gently nudged you to stand. “Guess that leaves me with the couch,” he said casually, though there was an edge to his voice.

You glanced at him as you stood, catching the flicker of something in his expression—annoyance? Frustration? It disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual smirk.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment too long.

“Night,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating again as you turned away, trying not to think about the warmth of his hands or the way your body had reacted to being so close to him.

Nick grabbed your arm, tugging you toward your room with a grin. “Come on, bestie,” he teased. “Let’s crash before Chris decides to steal your bed or hop in with you and kick me out.”

You glanced back briefly, catching Chris settling onto the couch, one arm draped over the back as he watched you leave. His smirk was faint but there, and it stayed with you as you closed the door behind you, trying not to let your thoughts spiral into dangerous territory.

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @sturnsvelocity @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick

[majoryeager104]

Crush! Part 1 | Part 2

the x reader I mentioned at the end of this post!

I’m sorry this is so late Ik I said I’d write it same day and I DID but couldn’t finish it bc I was wracking my brain last second and my phone still has a screen time limit 💀💀💀 so then I was gonna finish and drop it last night, but then my dad went on a FOUR HOUR TANGENT ABOUT HISTORY. 😀😀😀 so once again I’m so sorry but

anywhoooo enjoy!

warnings:, pure fluff

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It was an average day of sulking around the league hideout. Shigaraki, Twice, and Dabi were the ones currently present, and you were off on a job with Toga. Dabi had watched as you left, and decided not to disappear too until you got back. Maybe he was worried, or maybe he was keeping tabs on everyone. Even Shigaraki wasn’t entirely sure.

Anyways, the lot of them were chatting, with Dabi remaining quiet most of the time, at least until you were brought up. “Y/n’s been a great help since joining us!” Twice chirped, and Shigaraki quietly agreed. This caused Dabi to scoff. “Y/n can barely work alone, let alone be useful.” And that was when Twice got to work defending you.

“hey!! Y/n is a very hard worker!- you’re just jealous aren’t you- You know, I bet y/n would have loved to work with you on this mission! She likes you- she despises you SHUT UP”

Twice continued to argue with himself, and the other two went quiet, at least until Shigaraki turned to look at Dabi with a mischievous grin. Dabi bristled, stepping back. “Yeah whatever.” He snapped, turning on his heels and quickly leaving the room.

Maybe he was overreacting, maybe he was merely confused, but unlike everything else this team had thrown at him, he hadn’t expected this. You? Liked him? He scoffed at the thought as he walked down the street. Why was this such a bother to him? Why was he blushing so much? This was stupid. So stupid. You were stupid. Stupid for liking him, stupid for telling twice of all people- at least if you’d come and admit it to him yourself, Dabi could have let you down gently, he’s not a complete monster- but now he felt like he had no options to do so, and he wasn’t sure why.

So as he was walking down the street away from the hideout, and spotted you and Toga walking happily together through the crowds, he felt like he had no other option than to turn on his heels once again and go down the alley to his left, taking a detour because how the hell was he supposed to face you knowing you had feelings? It was embarrassing, and illogical, and the very thought was like a big nuisance pent up in his brain, he couldn’t stand it.

So, he lay low for a while, walking along the streets as it got later and later in the evening. He’d received messages from the league, asking for updates on where he’d gone, hell, he got one from you. Usually he appreciated your check ins- you were always so kind to him even over text- but now, your kind words felt nothing but heavy.

But wait.

he could use this, couldn’t he?

I know I mentioned he ‘wasn’t a complete monster’ earlier, and he’s not….but he is a bit of a menace. he could leverage your feelings, use that affection to achieve a few goals of his. Maybe it was terrible, sure, but it was the only way he knew of to push away the weird feelings he got just thinking about the idea of you liking him. It was becoming nauseating.

So, he walked back to the hideout, opening the door to the usual loud chatter of the group. Now he was noticing the way your head spun around to see him first, the way your eyes lit up and you smiled. Oh god, this was gonna be harder than he thought. But he straightened his jacket, and smirked in return, because it was worth a try, right?

and so you approached him, hoping for some small talk, which is when he realized that Twice hadn’t mentioned his little slip. Of course. So, he figured the best way to go about this, was to flirt.

Over the next ten minutes, he tried it, and came to understand that this wasn’t the greatest idea either. Between him leaning in way too close, smirking like an idiot to the point he was so embarrassed he resorted to fidgeting, and him seeing your raised brow and utterly confused and unaffected expression, it was clear that he had no chance of winning. It got to a point where you’d ended the conversation and walked away with a puzzled expression while he watched, his playful smirk disappearing, as well as the good mood he’d put himself in. He stared at the floor for another five minutes (real bro) before walking to his room, inevitably giving up.

It wasn’t until later, when you two had a job together, that he realized his ‘ideas’ were just big dumb mistakes. He’d dropped the flirtations and basically pushed the thought of your feelings to the back of his mind, hoping at this point that Twice hadn’t been serious. You got the job done, and he burned the place down. The two of you watched the fire quietly, and as he glanced back at you- to check for injuries if anything, he thought- and found you’d already been looking at him. Your eyes darted away and back to the burning building, a blush creeping across your face. You looked…adorable.

His eyes widened at the thought, but instead of thinking anything of it, he just chuckled at your expression, stepping a bit closer. No flirtations, no confusion, it was just you, and Dabi.

”you know…twice told me something real interesting earlier”

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part 2 coming soon bc I wanted to drop this at a reasonable time and didn’t finish😗😗😗

[neo91502]

oh my god... ive been staring at this art bro and read through EVERYONE'S paragraphs. holy fuck mango oh my fod... I'm gonna go coo coo crazy positively.

for one, hoLY SHIT. OH MT FOD YOU'RE A MADHORSE MANGO!!!! I WISH I COULD SAY EVERYTHING BUT I WONT BE ABLE TO REMEMBER THEM ALL SJJDJDJ THE DETAILS ON THE ART, THE GROUPING, THE EXPRESSIONS, OH NY FOD.... ITS JJST COMPOSED SO WELL OR SOMEHTINF LIKE THAT BRO OHBMY GOODDDDD.... ITS ALWAYS SUCH A JOY TO TALK TO YOU MAN!!!! i hope you know i let out a giggle when i saw how i manahed to get you to listen to epic the musical teehee!!! but oh my mangos.... i always looked up to you, ESPECIALLY since you were some of the first people i went to go find and saw on tumblr and went "omg wait i recognize this art!!" (mainly because of pinterest 💔 grrrr give credits!!!!) and ong i literally always loved seeing your silly drawings of them all... I THINK ITS ALSO COMEDIC HOW WE BASICALLT GIVE EVERYONE FANGS JAKSNND

you're genuinely just such a joy to hang out with, even if its not for long since. you're 5 hours ahead of me HELP... BUT EVEN STILL!!! I ALSO LOVE ANY AND ALL MANGO LORE??? LIKE HELLO,.. SIRE I'D LOVE TO HAVE MORE PLEASE!!!! ALSO WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY FOUND YOUR NON-SMG4 ACCOUNT I WAS LIKE "HUH... OH MY GOD" ANS IM JUST ?!??!? I NEED MORE OF YOUR NON-SMG4 ART TOO....

oh my god ans rhe PIKMIN!!!!! when you posted the silly post about your main interests, i literally jaw dropped ans pointed at the screen, screaming in my head PIKMIN PIKMIN PIKMIN!!!!NO WAY MANGO ALSO LOVED PIKMIN!!!! i will always associate anything mangos, horses, and pikmin to you (pikmin i mean... i associate to several people but shhhh) augh. EVEN THOUGH I BARELY TEXT IN THE TSB SERVER, IM MAINLY IN VC AND IM LIKE GUHH.... I WANT TO TALK TO MORE PEOPLE BUT LIKE EMOTIONS BETTER OVER MIC!!! I was actually so nervous when i joined a vc with you for the first time HWJENDK i think thag was when i was also anxious with tomm a bit but more like friends with lore GUH.... i remember hearing your voice for the first time and i was so surprised at hearing your voice BJAJDJS i didnt expect it... i hope you know you definitelt affected my accent, i hear a difference sometimes when im in choir in the auditorium 💔💔 /silly

tomm taught me when you appear in the vc chat if we're staying up late and i think its silly with your horse images and gifa teehee... im honestlt just. GENUINELY surprised i got the chance to be in vc with you and even have silly little shenanigans here and there (like the ocs channel with the stupid silly gifs you, me, and lore were making). Honestly. I did NOT think I'd evee even be able to sit here today and think and consider the fact that I'd say we're friends 💙💙

also you can absolutely spam me with pikmin memes i love them so much teehee... i dont mind if you spam dm me with them HOORAY!!

THANK YOU ALL FOR AN AMAZING YEAR! HERE'S TO MANY MORE!

Alllright, final thing to close off today, and what better than with a great big THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me for a whole year! Regardless of if you’ve been around since I first joined or if you only just followed me today, thank you so much for your support of me and my work. Knowing there are so many fantastic and wonderful individuals who all enjoy what I make is just indescribable, I get to wake up and enjoy creating things I love for the series I love so dearly all while so many amazing people enjoy what I make too. I really can’t put into words how thankful I am for everyone who follows me but genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you all for an amazing year and here’s hoping for many more to come!

Now, I do have a few special dedications to a few certain individuals, if I didn’t get the chance to include you PLEASE don’t think that I don’t value you in any way! There were so many cool and talented people that I wanted to thank but I simply didn’t have time to do so! You are all so important to me and it does kill me a little that I can’t thank everyone, but I am just one guy at the end of the day so again please don’t take it personally, I am still so thankful for everyone and I want you to know this. <3

ANYWAY LONG ASS BLOCK OF TEXT UNDER THE READ MORE

So, in no order in particular

@lizaluvsthis @shygirl4991 @b-r-i-n-g-x - I’m putting you all together as one because I always see you guys working as a group so it feels wrong to split you guys up lol. You were all some of the first people I ever saw in the SMG4 fandom and your contributions inspired me so much to make my own stuff too! Everything you guys make always has so much heart and soul put into it, Brewing Romance, Split into 3’s, Gay Ogres, they’re all some of the first projects I remember seeing and for that I wanna thank you guys for motivating me to make and create my own things within this fandom! Even if you guys aren’t as active now or have moved on from those projects, I still hold them dear to me so keep making and creating because you guys are all so amazing at it! <3

@mothsbakery - Moth my beloved friend, I don’t know where to start, when I first got into SMG4, I was so worried about sharing it with my friends because I was worried it would somehow get turned against me in some way (blame that damn trauma lol), so having you take a passing interest in it was such a major relief to me. I’m so glad I’ve been able to sit down with you and watch the few episodes that we have because they’ve been so much fun! I’m so glad that we’re friends even after all these years. I know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch but I do genuinely appreciate your friendship and all that we’ve done together. Please keep making and creating and enjoying what you love, seeing you come to my DM’s with your newest musical piece is always such a joy to listen to and it’s been so wonderful to watch you improve over the years! Keep being amazing Moth, I’ll chat to you soon I promise! <3

@strange0-0storm - STOOOORM!!! (POINTING AT YOU POINTING AT YOU) FREAK!!!!/J I’m kidding lol, Storm I am so glad I’ve gotten the chance to talk with you, even if it's brief, you are so fun to talk to that I can’t wait to get the chance to chat with you again about OC’s or just anything really! Your work is always so yummy, whether it's SMG4, Gravity Falls, Popee The Performer, and more, your art is always just so full of character and it just makes me wanna keep doing what I’m doing and it helps me not worry about branching out at some point to something else. No matter what I will always come back to your work because it's so amazing and it’s even better knowing it’s made but such an equally amazing person, stay awesome Storm! (also RhythmDoctor 4 life they should kiss and make out more JHBBSGHBSGH) <3

@bluesbox - Blue! Dude you are so freaking cool I cannot put it into words, not only is your work fantastic and such a joy to interact with, but you’re also so dedicated to characters lore and interactions that I can’t help but wanna be just like that! I’ll never forget when you first dropped the TSB lore presentation that shit was SO WILD, knowing there's someone who's so invested in other peoples OC’s (including my own!) to such an extent is honestly so amazing, and it really pushes me to invest more time into my own work! Knowing there’s someone out there who genuinely takes so much interest in it is so uplifting, so thank you for always wanting to know more about what I make as well as everyone else, we need more amazing people like you Blue, keep being you! (also PS, the way you give Mango glasses is probably my favourite thing someone has given him, it makes me so happy to see every time, don’t tell anyone shhhhh) <3

@libbytwq - LIBBY, LIBBY OMG I don’t think I’ve ever met another SMG4 fan who just gets the same sense of humor as me so well, I love being terminally on Tumblr and having someone else who is also terminally on Tumblr, it’s so refreshing lmao! Lore not only are you an amazing person to talk to, you are also so insanely talented to match, all of your work has so much charm and passion put into it that I can just sense it with every piece, I always want to know more with your characters like I NEED the full SMGL:E lore or else I will explode and die, that’s how good you are at getting people invested in your work! You’re so great at creating interesting and engaging characters/stories that it motivates me so much with my own work. You have so much love for what you do it’s so wonderful to see, please keep creating forever and always because your work is such an absolute joy to see. I love getting the chance to chat with you so much and I can’t wait to chat with you again, thank you for being such an amazing friend Libby! <3

@hamlos - Hamlos, your work is truly incredible. I really can’t express it enough, it’s so dynamic and flexible in such a beautiful way, everything you make is just so amazing and that's just talking about your art itself, the characters you have are so interesting I always want to know more about them, especially Cardiac I seriously love him so much and having him paired with Mango is so wonderful, they really go together so well! I’ve never had anyone go so crazy (positive) over my characters before and It’s so amazing to see, every time you come to me with your amazing work it’s always such a nice thing to see! I know I am not always the best at responding but I do always see and read everything you send me and it always leaves me with a big smile on my face. Even if you’re not super into SMG4 right now, thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you’ve made for me, HeartBeet will always have a special place in my heart and I hope it does for you too, they are gay after all lol. <3

@neo91502 @hexsie @aquaproductions - Grouping you all together even though you all couldn’t be more unique and individual, every single one of you is so special and amazing to talk to, I legit get so excited any time one of you joins a VC with me because all of you are so fun to hang out with for so many reasons! Neo omg you are honestly such a nice person to chat to and be around, you’re always so fun to hang out with and you’ve convinced me to sit down one day and listen to Epic the Musical because every time you go crazy over the word Epic, I can’t help but find it so cute lol. Nova your obsession with Hex3 is so sweet and I’m genuinely glad you’re having so much fun with it, seeing you go on rambling about your OC’s will always be such a joy to see and you know what yes one day I will draw Hex3 just for you, gimme a second though (dies first /j). And Aqua, I had no idea how much of a sweetheart you were to talk to, you are honestly so cool and I’m so glad to have you in my DM’s sending me amazing fanart that you know I’ll like, thank you so much for being so awesome and I’m giving you platonic smooches right back at ya so watch out!!! All of you are again so amazing and I can’t wait to keep chatting with all of you! <3

MY BELOVED WHO SHAN’T BE NAMED BUT I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS!!! - Hai babe, listen, I can’t believe the whole time you’ve been dating me I’ve been an SMG4 fan, that must be so embarrassing to you lol /j but thank you so much forever and always for sticking with me. You are truly the light of my life, I treasure every moment we spend together and I am waiting for the future to come so that I can spend it with you forever and always. Thank you for not only indulging in my interests with me, but for enjoying me for who I am, everytime you call me cute for getting giddy over SMG4 it honestly makes my heart flutter and it reminds me of why I love you so much, I wouldn’t be who I am without you and I hope you can say the same thing for me. I cannot wait to get the chance to see you again in person, I need to kiss you sloppy style soooooo bad it's making me bark and growl grrr grrr bARK BARK BARK anyway I love you so much and I always will. (I will forever kiss you for getting me Smug I can’t believe you got him, he’s like a fucked up and evil son to me) <3

@ominus-potato @theartistisme43 @coralalala64 - Grouping you all together even though I have different things to say about all of you, but regardless, all of you are such amazingly talented people that I’d love to get to chat with you all properly one day, even if I’ve talked with you guys a bit it’s not enough! I’d love to get to know you guys better at some point lol. Ominus your work is just so good I can’t help but feel happy anytime I see it. I promise one day we will meet at a convention, I’m so mad I missed you once I won’t let it happen again! Cantro, your work is incredible!!! Every time I see it I’m so amazed with what you’ve made that it just gets me excited to see what else you can create, I am manifesting with all my strength that if you do ever decide to apply as a SMG4 machinima artist, that you get it because god damn you deserve it! And Coral, THE CREATURE CREATOR!!! I love your lil creatures so much, and OMG you have to teach me how to do such amazing pencil work, your work always inspires me so much and I’m so glad I’ve gotten the chance to chat with you a lil, your gif collection is truly frightening but in the best way possible. Again all of you are so amazing so please keep doing what you’re best at! <3

@tiredsmashbros - Tomm, Mr Tiredsmashbros, holy shit where do I even start with you. First of all, I would probably not be thanking half the people in this piece if not for you, I know how scary setting up a server was for you but I will forever be so thankful that you did. Finally getting the chance to chat with not only you, but so many amazing people in the SMG4 fandom has been an absolute joy and I am forever thankful for you for creating such an open and accepting space, you and Radiant are seriously so awesome for all the work you’ve put into that place. It’s from your server that i’ve learnt how wonderful and generous you are as a person, I really cannot think of anyone kinder than you Tomm, the way you always have an essay planned for every piece of fanart you get, from just your overall positive attitude, I am so glad I’ve finally gotten the chance to meet you after just being a fan of your work for so long. Your work has been such an inspiration to me and you’ve always been someone I wanted to chat with and the fact that I am now is!!! Crazy!!! I can’t believe you were scared of me at one point lol. Anyway thank you Tomm for being such a fantastic friend overall, I need to know TSB’s lore right now, can you whisper it to me I promise I’ll keep it a secret, regardless stay awesome dude, you deserve nothing but joy and happiness forever and always. Qwah Tuh (also Burgerfruit beloved, they should get weirder /j) <3

@doodledev1l - Doodle!!!!! Okay I know this sounds weird but genuinely finding another British SMG4 fan has been so refreshing, not only that but you’re super fun to talk to and be around so it’s even better! Getting the chance to hang out and chat with you is always so fun, I love getting to hear what you’re working on for uni and I always hope that it goes well for you, I know how stressful it can be lol. Regardless, I know you’ll do amazing because I’ve seen how dedicated and talented you are when it comes to your work, again I hope the rest of uni goes well for you because you deserve it, we gotta end your bad luck streak somehow lol. Thank you for being such an amazing person to chat and hang out with, keep up the amazing work dude, I’ll get you a tescos meal deal one day I promise. <3

PHEW, THAT’S EVERYONE, again thank you all so much for sticking by my side for a year! Doesn’t matter what time you showed up, I will always be thankful to know all of you, keep being awesome I love you all. I die now

Mango <3

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - The Beginning

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

June

---

… Previously on Uncoupled …

(Sorry, couldn’t help myself – insert dramatic music here, if you prefer. In my head, it’s the L&O SVU two-note since Joel had apparently committed a serious offense)

She pleaded with him to stay, telling him she knew he didn’t really want to leave. Because if he did, he wouldn’t have left something extremely valuable to him with her at the house. Please, Joel, come back to me. I’ll do better, she said, practically grabbing his arm to lay in bed with her, before losing consciousness again.

His thoughts and reminisces of their past life was suddenly interrupted by his phone dinging. Someone had texted him. An unknown number.

‘You sure your girlfriend doesn’t want her husband back, Miller?’

A picture quickly followed. Joel could feel his heart drop to the floor, the picture blurry from his immediate tears, his insides turned ice cold.

Another text. From you, this time.

‘Max just stopped by. Something happened. I’ll explain when you get back, okay?’

And whatever warmth that his body had left just escaped his form altogether.  

**********

His phone was knocked out of his hand. It flew across the small room, hitting the wall before dropping on the ground, the screen cracked beyond recognition, darkened.

He turned around to see Jen, who he thought was unconscious, wide awake, glaring daggers at him.

“Why are you still thinking about her? You’re here with me. She cheated on you, Joel. If you could leave me for cheating, why won’t you leave her?”

Joel forced himself to stay calm. If there was one thing Maria and her colleague who was handling his divorce had told the two of you time and again, it was to stay calm. Be patient. Assume everything being done to you a trick to get evidence against you. Make you look bad in the divorce. So yes, he will stay calm. He wasn’t going to give her any ammunition. Not right now.

“How did you know she was cheating on me?”

Her face warped from anger to panic. She dismissively mentioned the picture someone just sent him.

“That was a kiss, which was somehow conveniently captured while it was happening. Weird how someone just happened to stand by to take a picture, wasn’t it? And let’s not forget, you kissed me too. And I’m definitely not cheating on Lily with you.”

He tried his best to get his feelings in check, despite his shaking hands and the turmoil going on in his heart. Even though he doubted you were willingly kissing Max, he couldn’t help the jealousy and anger that was spreading steadily throughout his body, as he was sure you would have felt if someone had sent you a picture of him and Jen kissing. As he was sure you felt when he told you she had kissed him.

“She fucked him, Joel. He told me. He went to the house sometimes when Ellie was napping after school.”

Bingo.

He knew she was lying. How could you have done that? He picked up Ellie, not you. If she was napping, it was either at his classroom or office, your bakery, or at home with him. Never with you alone. Not without him being present too. When you were not with him you were at the bakery, with Tess, Frank and Alice. He doubted they would have let you get away with such stupidity. Even if you went out for deliveries, Tess or Frank was always with you. And more importantly, he knew you wouldn’t do that to him, with Max, of all people. He trusted you with his life, let alone his heart.

He was angry. Angry she had stooped so low, angry that Max had stooped so low. That they were still trying to separate you and him, despite the two of you making it quite clear that you were not interested in reconciliation.

“Joel, honey, please. Can’t you see? She’s no good for you. Look, why don’t you come home with me? We can start over, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll change, I promise. All this,” she said, gesturing to the room, the wires on her chest, the tubes going into her arm, “Had shown me how important you are to me, Joel. Life is short, honey, let’s not throw away 15 years of love for something so silly. Please? I need you right now, Joel. Are you really going to leave me alone after all this?”

Joel didn’t say anything.

“Joel, how could you stay with her after a few months when she did exactly what I did to you? We were together 15 years Joel! Is that how little you feel about me? Don’t you have any love left for me at all?”

Joel remined silent. His mind calculating his next move. He needed to call you. But his phone was shattered and dead on the other side of the room. And try as he might, he couldn’t remember your number. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t bothered remembering any numbers other than Tommy’s and his Mama’s. He could, he supposed, call them and have them warn you, but what if Jen noticed? She wasn’t letting him out of her sight, to the point of stubbornly fighting her anaesthesia.

He could just leave. But knowing that Max and Jen had gone out of their way to find reasons to split the two of you up, he was now worried that she would use his leaving in her condition as a way to turn the divorce around on him. Make him the guilty party. Worse, that it would make you look like the guilty party too. And he couldn’t, wouldn’t chance putting you and Ellie under any additional duress at this point. You were so close. One week.

“Joel, come back. If you do, I’ll give you back what you thought you had lost. Surely that baker and the little orphan are not worth losing a pretty penny?”

His head snapped towards his soon to be ex-wife at this statement.

Just like that, he knew what he had to do.

**********

You stood in the doorway of Ellie’s room for what felt like hours, watching the little girl sleep, tears falling down your face, wondering how on earth you were going to tell her Joel had left. You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe Joel would fall for such a stupid manipulation. Someone took a picture of the kiss. Who? You were not a celebrity. Why would someone stand by in front of your house with a camera to capture a kiss between you and your soon to be ex-husband?

You were suddenly angry. At Joel. He told you Jen kissed him. And as much as you wanted to tear her face off for that, you stood by him. Believed him when he said he didn’t want the kiss. How could he just leave without listening to your half of the story?

You went into your closet to ‘help’ him pack. You were seething. He wanted out? Fine. You’ll help. He didn’t even have to come back for the rest of his stuff. You’ll pay someone to deliver them to him.

But when you opened your closet, you were dumbstruck to find all his belongings, his clothes, his books, his toiletries, were all still where they were before he left. What the heck did he pack into those suitcases?

This wasn’t making any sense.

Your phone dinged. You went to the living room where you left it. Pictures of Joel carrying his suitcases back into his marital home, Jen in tow, flooded your screen. All from Max. You tried Joel’s number again, still straight to voicemail. You texted him again, still undelivered.

Fuck, you were going crazy. You didn’t want to call anyone, lest they, namely Bill, decided to go out on a warpath and tear Joel’s head off. Not when you yourself was still confused and unsure of what was going on.

Max called you. Again and again. You didn’t pick up. At this point, you needed to be very careful with him. You always were before, listening to Maria’s advice. Never picking up, never replying his texts. You cursed your weakness for letting him hug you earlier. Cursed the fact that you felt obliged to let him, that you were, in no small way, mourning the end of the marriage you had with him.

You tried to recall what happened when he came home. But you found yourself encased in the memory of Jen’s smug face, pushing the fact that Joel had decided to go back to her into yours, the flood of emotion you were feeling, the defeat, the confusion, and try as you might, you couldn’t get the image of her wedding ring on her finger out of your mind. Was Joel wearing his? What did he say to you before he left?

He’ll be back for the rest of his stuff.

Fuck. Your head was swimming. You found yourself sitting numbly on your couch, the one you always snuggled with Joel on, laying yourself down and pulling the blanket draped across the back over yourself, Joel’s smell still on it, and closed your eyes, ignoring the stubborn tears that fell as you tried your hardest to fall asleep, hopefully waking up when this nightmare was over.

God, you hoped this was just that. A nightmare.

**********

The sound of his pick-up truck driving up your driveway woke you. You sat up, waiting for whatever may come next. Although groggy, your mind was fresh with today’s happenings. You felt helpless, confused, really not knowing what to expect. The sounds of doors opening and closing caused you to sit frozen. Was there someone with him? You knew that was his truck. But your heard two doors opening and closing. Did he bring Jen back here with him?

The sounds of a key being inserted into the lock and the jiggle that followed was perhaps the loudest sounds you had ever heard in your entire life. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. You felt your tears were readily pooling behind your eyeballs, just ready to be pushed out at a moment’s notice.

The door opened, and Joel walked in, carrying the two suitcases he had brought out with him back in. He saw you immediately, and your tears found their way out uncontrollably. He took long strides and sat next to you, pulling you into his arms, placing you on his lap, hugging you tight, kissing your temple over and over again, telling you he’s sorry, he didn’t have a way of telling you. He had to do it, he couldn’t chance Jen knowing. He’s so sorry.

“Joel, he tricked me, I didn’t want to kiss him, he pretended to come over to bring the rest of my things and he asked for a hug and I was so stupid…”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, I believe you. No, baby, don’t cry. I’m not mad at you. I know they planned this. Shh… shh… no baby, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here. I’m sorry I scared you… I’m not leaving you. I’m never leaving you. Shh… shh…”

He kept coaxing you, comforting you, holding you close, until you calmed down. When you finally pulled back from him, his own eyes were filled with tears, apologizing to you for scaring you, before pulling his phone out, showing you its shattered carcass.

He told you everything that happened at the hospital. He told you why he had to come back and pull what he pulled – he had to, to retrieve something that was invaluable to him. Something he thought he had lost years ago. Something he had not even thought of this past year, already accepting he had lost it, or so he thought.

He pulled a broken piece of thick black string out of his pocket, tied to a worn out penny with a tiny hole drilled into it. You took it from him. The penny was so worn out parts of it were missing, no longer round nor smooth around the edges. You looked at him, confusion in your eyes. He put you through all that, for this?

“My late Papa taught me how to play the guitar. This was the penny he used as a pick. He used to wear this string around his wrist. He only took it off when he wanted to play. When he died, I wore it around mine. Never took it off. I only stopped using it as a pick when it started to fall apart,” he told you, running his thumb on the uneven edge. “It fell off my wrist one day, I just looked down and saw that it wasn’t there anymore. I looked for it for weeks, months, and finally I gave up, figuring it fell somewhere when I was out and about.”

He took it back from you, looked at it for a long time, before continuing.

“Today, I found out she had found it and kept it. Never told me. She knew how much this meant to me. My Mama kept his wedding band, Tommy kept his watch, and I kept this. It’s all I have of his.”

You laid your head on his chest and traced your finger around the penny in his palm. He closed his hand around yours, kissing you on the temple, inhaling your scent in as long as he could.

“She told me that she would give it back to me, if I agree to go back home with her. I wasn’t planning to come home first, but she insisted. I had to, she threatened to destroy this. I couldn’t call you to warn you, I was kind of hoping you would be at the bakery. When I agreed, she took out her wedding band and put it back on. I’m sorry for whatever she said to you. I tried to be as fast as I could, minimize the damage, you know? Took empty suitcases with me to make her believe I was going back. But clearly, she did what she did. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. But it’s over, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I just really wanted this back. I wanted to give it to Ellie one day, you know? My Papa taught me the guitar, and I’m teaching Ellie, and I wanted to pass this on to her one day.”

“Like an heirloom?”

“If it’s too presumptive of me…”

“No… it’s perfect.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, the penny in between your palms.

“I love you, Lily, I’ve been in love with you for a while, I didn’t say it because I thought it was too soon, but thinking I could’ve lost you today, I can’t hold it in anymore. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Ellie. I’m so sorry. Please understand, I didn’t mean to scare you like that, much less hurt you. Please.”

He held your forehead close to his own, begging you to forgive him. You kissed him in response, telling him you forgave him, and asked that he forgave you too. He told you there was nothing for him to forgive, lifting you up and taking you to bed, where he proved to you again and again that his love was only for you, and that he was never leaving you as long as he was breathing.

As he held you close in his arms that night, you told him you loved him too.

**********

Joel went over to the new neighbour’s house the next morning before school and came back with a huge smile on his face. He told you to expect some texts from them, since his phone was still out of commission. He took Ellie’s phone with him to school just so you had a way of calling him if needed, the little girl thankfully clueless about yesterday’s drama.

You received a video from the young man down the street, immediately going to Joel’s classroom to show him. He took you to the staff common room, where Lucy was idly going through her phone, a cup of noodle in her hand. She looked a bit uneasy seeing you there but managed a smile regardless. Joel sat next to her, asking her what she was doing in front of his house the day before.

“What? I wasn’t in front of your house. I don’t know where you live,” she said, rather defensively.

He showed her the video in return, a security camera the young men had installed on their driveway, where she could clearly be seen standing just off your driveway with her phone in hand.

Her face turned chalk white.

“Listen, remember the Christmas concert? When you kissed me against my will? That was sexual harassment, Lucy, in case you didn’t know. I haven’t told anyone about it, didn’t want to ruin your career or anything, but I will, if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I didn’t kiss you at the Christmas concert,” she attempted, panic surrounding her. She didn’t think of it that way, obviously.

“I saw it, I was there. I can talk too,” you quickly supplied.

Lucy deflated. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and told Joel that Jen had approached her. She was looking for Joel one day and heard Lucy telling another teacher about her unrequited crush on Joel and her lame attempts to forget him – going after the new Maths teacher hoping that she could forget Joel. It wasn’t working. Jen offered a very lucrative payment if she would just help Max out with the picture. She figured, why not? If she couldn’t have him, the least she could do was make sure you couldn’t have him either, make a few bucks in the process. So she went to your place at the agreed time, took some pictures and sent them to Max.

She agreed to give a statement to Maria in case Max tried to use the picture against you in the divorce, and apologized for the trouble she may have caused, looking very ashamed of herself. Joel quickly asked her to go to his classroom with the two of you so you could arrange a Zoom session with Maria for the statement. The sooner the better.

Just as the three of you left the common room, you ran into Jen, who had come in looking for Joel, stomping her way towards the common room. Her initially indignant face snapped shut the moment Lucy came out, knowing that she had talked.

She took a deep breath, tried to put on a smile and stepped closer to Joel, who immediately pulled you behind him, just in case.

“You said you would come back to me.”

“No, I said I would go home with you, and I did. I didn’t say I would stay married to you.”

“You drugged me, stole my belonging and left me to die!” her perfect teeth were so gritted at this point you could hear them squeak.

You could see why Joel said she was not as beautiful as you thought she was. She looked like a deranged Barbie. Even Lucy was taken aback.

“No, I gave you your prescribed medication, took my belonging, and left when you fell asleep.”

“And you,” she snarled at Lucy, making the leggy blonde take a step back, “You owe me ten thousand dollars!”

“Really? For what?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

Jen made to grab at you, but Joel stopped her, “Do it, and I will take everything you have with me,” he said, “I’ve been nice, all I ask is you leave us alone. But do this, push my patience, and you will see just how vengeful I can get. Try me, Jen.”

He looked so serious, Jen shrunk back. Never in all the years she had known him had she ever seen him this angry. It actually scared her. It suddenly occurred to her he had never snapped in all the years she had known him, not even when he caught her cheating on him, and now, when the safety of the woman he loved was threatened, he might actually hit his limit.

She stared at him for a while, before finally coming to her senses. She shook her head in defeat, turned around and left.

**********

You walked out of the meeting room with Maria, arms around each other, thanking her for coming in to settle this during her maternity leave. She insisted, really. You would have been fine if one of her associates had come in in her stead. No, we’re sisters now. Sisters help each other, she assured you.

The door to the meeting room opposite yours opened, and Joel walked out, immediately coming to you and Maria, giving her a kiss on the cheek and hugging her before taking you into his arms, both of you releasing thankful breaths.

Honestly, the two of you had never felt lighter or happier. It’s all over. Papers were willingly signed, no drama.

Max and Jen finally accepted defeat, realizing that you and Joel were never going back to them. Max even apologized, actually cooperating throughout the entire process. He knew he was defeated when Joel seemed unphased by the picture of the kiss – he had to admit that Joel was a bigger man than he was – he knew he wouldn’t have accepted it if it were him. And ultimately, he accepted that Joel really did love you for who you were, unlike him. Despite her cooperation, Jen didn’t speak to you or Joel again without her lawyer present, worried Joel would actually stay true to his words and take her to the cleaners.

The three of you walked into the bakery where everyone was waiting, Jackson happily cooing in his Uncle Bill’s arms, Ellie making funny faces at him. There was no problem finding willing babysitters in this family, Frank had said.

The family toasted the happy occasion, and the possibility of many more to come. Joel held you in one arm, Ellie in the other, looking so content and happy he could burst. He gave Ellie a slobbery kiss and turned to give you one, Ellie immediately making a face and climbing down from his hold.

“God, they’re worse than my parents!”

**********

“Joel!”

Hmm?

“Joel! Wake up!”

Joel opened one eye, feeling way too comfortable to open both. He had you in his arms, his bed all warm, his face full of your smell.

“Joel!”

“What?”

“Wake up!”

He lifted his head up, looked at the alarm next to your side of the bed. It’s 5 am.

“What are you doing up? You have school in a few hours. Go back to sleep. First day of big girl school! Yay!” he said sleepily, before burying his face in your hair again.

“Joel! Where’s your wife?”

What? He’s holding you. You’re right…

He lifted his head and looked at you. Only it wasn’t you he was hugging. It was your pillow, and that darned furry blanket his Mama had knitted for you that you suddenly couldn’t live without.

He shot up. Ellie was looking at him, judgment in her eyes, arms crossed on her chest.

“Her car is gone. I thought I heard someone leave. I thought she wasn’t supposed to go to the bakery today.”

“She wasn’t. She hasn’t since last week.”

He leapt out of bed and knocked on the guest bedroom. Anita answered, eyes bleary from sleep.

“Lily’s gone,” Joel shouted at her, getting dressed as fast as he could, almost falling face first into the closet door trying to get his jeans on. “Ellie! Go back to bed. Mama, watch her will you?”

“No, I’m going with you,” Ellie protested, already pulling her jacket on. Anita joined her, magically dressed, ridding the crusts in her eyes.

Joel didn’t even want to stop to protest. He grabbed his keys and ran out, peeling out as soon as Anita buckled Ellie in from her seat. His phone rang just as he pulled in behind the bakery, parked right in between your car and Tess’s, almost ramming into Frank’s. He jumped out, almost bulldozing Tess over as she opened the service door for him.

“I was just calling…” she started, giving up as he ran in to find you. “She’s nesting,” she told Anita, “In front of the oven,” she pulled Ellie in for a hug, shutting the door behind her.

You were on all fours in front of the oven, watching the croissants rise, breathing in through your nose, releasing through your mouth, sweating profusely. Frank sat next to you, breathing with you.

Joel squatted next to you, choosing his words carefully.

“Baby, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be in bed, resting.”

“I’m fine, I just wanted to make sure the croissants are oohhh!!!” your body stiffened, and your breathing quickened, sweat pooling on your forehead.

Joel froze.

“Erm, sweetie, I think your wife’s in labour,” Anita said, immediately getting behind you to rub your back.

“What? She’s not due for another week!”

“Babies do come early, sweetie. Lily, honey, when did your contractions start?”

You calmed down a little, “Yesterday morning,” you told her.

Joel fell on his ass. “Why didn’t you tell me? You seemed fine… I thought…”

“It wasn’t that strong… I thought it was just those Braxton thingies. I’m fine. Ooooh!!!”

“Okay, sweetie, that’s far too close for comfort. Hospital, now!” Frank said, helping you up.

“No, the croissants…”

“The croissants will be fine. Come on, now,” Tess chimed in, helping Frank get you up.

“But Ellie’s first day of school…”

“She’ll be fine, honey, that’s what I’m here for,” Anita said, helping you walk out to Joel’s truck.

Ellie came to hug you, trying hard not to let you see her worries. She was so scared for you, but excited to meet her little brother or sister.

“I’m so sorry I can’t send you to school today, Bellie,” you told her, hugging her tight. “Anita, my bag, in my trunk.”

“I’ve got it,” Frank said, shutting your trunk, your bag and pillow in his hands. He placed them in the passenger seat of Joel’s truck.

“I love you Beans, you can do this, okay? Love you so much,” Ellie said, not letting you go.

“I’ll take her to the hospital after school. I’ll go over after she’s settled. Take some of Joel’s stuff with me,” Anita told you, gently peeling Ellie off you, giving you a hug as well, telling you she will see you soon. Tess and Frank did the same, giving you kisses. They’ll take turns visiting later, they told you. They’ll call everyone.

Okay, you nodded, as Frank helped buckle you in and closed the door for you. Okay, you’re all set.

Except, the driver, your husband, your rock, was not there.

They found him still sitting, frozen in place in front of the oven, a panicked look on his face. It took a few minutes of coaxing from Anita to get him to calm down and finally snapping back into reality before running out to you, helping you breathe through another contraction. He hugged you, kissed you, apologizing for panicking, before putting the gear in reverse and taking you to the hospital.

**********

It had been quite a ride. During those first few weeks after he left Jen, Joel often found himself wishing that the 15 years he was with Jen didn’t happen. They brought him to where he was then, a broken, defeated man at 30, single for the first time in his adult life, not knowing where life would take him, wondering if he would ever be happy again.

But right now, as he watched his brand new BabyGirl feed, he knew everything that had happened, happened for a reason. Never in his life did he ever think he could be this happy. No amount of service, kisses, hugs, money, even love, could ever repay his debt to you for how happy he was at this very moment.

Things were surprisingly calm after the divorces were finalized.

The bakery was doing well. Business picked up, and you ended up hiring two more staff to help with the demand.

Joel proposed to you after only six months. The two of you married at City Hall, with only the usual suspects in attendance. Benny even made a surprise appearance. Your reception was a potluck barbeque in your now gorgeous backyard. Joel rented a small cabin in the mountains for your honeymoon. There was no extravagance, no over the top ceremonies. Just the people you loved, celebrating the two of you.

Your house was now devoid of the ugly carpeting you hated. And Joel stripped and repainted the kitchen cabinetry to make your kitchen look brand new again.

It’s home.

Lucy transferred to another district, embarrassed at the way she had been acting throughout that year, opting to start anew in a brand new place.

Max accepted a job overseas, selling his house, and in a surprising move, gave you half of the profits, his way of apologizing for treating you so badly over the years. He actually shook Joel’s hand, congratulating the two of you on your marriage, wishing both of you well. He texted you a congratulations when he found out the two of you were expecting.

Jen left the city soon after the divorce. Last you heard she was somewhere in Europe, living as one of those van-lifers. She had a travel blog, apparently, not that you or Joel ever saw the blog. She had never contacted you or Joel again.

A soft knock came from the door. Anita came in, a nervous Ellie following behind. Her little face lit up as she saw your new daughter. Joel lifted her up and hugged her tightly, asking her if she was ready to meet her sister. She nodded excitedly. Joel placed her next to you in bed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. You placed your now sleeping daughter in her waiting arms, and Ellie carefully held the tiny little girl, hand supporting her neck and head, just as she had practiced at home.

“Hi Sarah,” she said to the sleeping tot. “I’m your big sister, Ellie.”

She gave her sister gentle kisses, and little Sarah opened her eyes slightly to look at her big sister, before closing them again, sleeping contentedly in her arms.

“Look over here, everyone,” Anita said softly, “Smile!” and snapped the first official picture of the new Millers.

Joel kissed you on your forehead, his arm stretching protectively around his ladies. He knew right there and then that he would suffer through those 15 years over and over again if he had to, knowing that it would bring him here, to his very own little piece of heaven.

THE END

[viagracex]

okay here me out on this - you’re a youtuber and tiktoker who’s friends with the boys and always had a little crush on george, and he you, but you’re both cowards. it’s valentine’s day coming up and all the other boys have dates/are away and so are your girl friends so you say to george hey let’s do a friend v day like valentine’s day or smthn because he’s sad he doesn’t have a gf, he comes to your flat, you cook, watch rom coms, drink a lot of wine and you play games but you accidentally play a couples game 😉😉😉😉 and you end up doing the deed and in the end both agree to go on an ACTUAL valentines date the next day hehehehehe

A Valentine's Between Friends

george clarke x fem!reader

summary: a friendly valentine's evening leads to anything but…

warnings: sexual content, smut (MDNI)

3.4k words (may have got a bit carried away)

note: Anon, thank you so much for the request. It's my first time writing smut so I hope you like it, sorry if it's awkward and cringy. If it sucks let me know and would love to get more requests.

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

It was the sort of cold February evening that made you want to curl up with a blanket, a glass of wine, and pretend the world outside didn’t exist. The sort of evening that made you consider just not getting out of bed at all. Except for the fact that your phone was pinging with messages from the boys.

You groaned into your pillow, staring at the screen.

Chris had a date with someone he met on one of his spontaneous trips. Arthur was spending Valentine’s Day with a new girlfriend who he met through TikTok. Even your best friend was off on a family holiday. leaving you all alone.

You could already feel that aching hole in your chest. Valentine’s Day, of all days, was particularly terrible when you were single. The entire world seemed to be a constant reminder of the relationships you didn’t have. Of the fact that your phone was always empty, save for messages from your mates.

But then, there was George.

You had always had a soft spot for him. It started back when you all met, years ago, the banter, the cheeky comments, the laughs, the way he made you feel like you were always in on some secret joke. And now, well... now, it was just confusing. It had become a game of will-they-won’t-they. Neither of you ever crossed the line—too much fear of what might happen if you did. But god, how you both danced around it.

You hated the idea of spending Valentine’s Day alone, and so did he. So why not just make it a thing? A friend Valentine’s Day—no expectations, no awkwardness. You’d keep it chill.

You shot him a quick text.

“Wanna have an anti-Valentine's Day? I'll cook, we can drink wine, watch rom-coms and maybe play some games. Neither of us have plans, so why not? Let me know xx"

It didn’t take long before his reply came through.

"That sounds like exactly what I need. I’ll be over in an hour."

It was almost comically easy. But as the hour passed, you found yourself slightly nervous, unsure of what to expect. Was this just a chill night? Or was there something more lurking under the surface? You tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on getting everything ready.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, the sizzle of garlic in the pan mingling with the rich aroma of tomatoes—a simple, hearty meal to pair perfectly with the wine you’d bought. As you laid the table, each placement was a silent testament to the years of friendship that had intricately laced your lives together.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. George stood there, hands buried deep in his pockets, his smile shy but genuine.

"Hey," he greeted, stepping into the warmth of your flat, the cold nipping at his heels. "This is a surprise. Smells like you've outdone yourself."

You chuckled, "Microwave meals are tragic on Valentine’s, even for friends."

He let out a laugh, sitting down at the table. "Fair enough. This looks pretty decent, actually. I’m impressed."

The evening unfolded with an ease that only true friendship could afford. Dinner was a merry affair, filled with laughter and nostalgic exchanges about past escapades with the boys. As the wine flowed, the barriers of mere friendship seemed to melt away, replaced by a tender connection that neither of you had dared to explore.

He grinned, taking off his jacket and hanging it up, glancing around your flat. "I’ve got to admit, this is a bit of a shocker. You’re actually being… domestic?"

"Well, thank you," you replied, smiling. "I even put some effort into it, just for you." You pulled the wine out of the fridge, uncorking it and pouring another glass for both of you.

The conversation flowed easily after that—easy banter, jokes about past video shoots, hilarious stories about the boys. But beneath the jokes, there was something soft lingering in the air. It was the unsaid, the little sparks you both danced around every time you spent time together.

As the evening wore on, the wine started to loosen your inhibitions. You moved to the couch, both of you nestled into the cushions, a blanket draped across your legs. The rom-com marathon began, and you both laughed at the ridiculous plot twists, snickered at the corny lines, but neither of you could ignore the growing tension between you.

"Should we play a game?" you asked, glancing at the coffee table where you had set out a box of games, most of them silly. "Something to pass the time? No pressure, I promise."

George gave you smile. "Yeah, I’m game. As long as it’s not too weird."

You grinned. "Oh, it’s not that weird. It’s just a couples game."

He raised an eyebrow. "Couples game? What, like Truth or Dare, but for couples?"

"Exactly," you replied with a laugh, though your heart was now beating in your throat. "But it’s mostly silly stuff. You know, harmless. Just a fun thing to do on Valentines."

You could see his hesitation, the subtle shift in his posture. "Alright. But I’m not kissing you, just so we’re clear."  He finished his sentence with a cheeky wink.

You snorted. "Who said anything about kissing?"

With a shake of his head, George grabbed the card deck, and you both started drawing cards one after another, each more ridiculous than the last. The questions were harmless, at first: "What's your partner's worst habit?" and "What's their favourite food?" The game seemed lighthearted enough. Until it wasn't.

George drew the next card, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped it over. The room suddenly felt too warm, the air thick with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he read the card aloud: "Describe your most vivid fantasy involving the person sitting across from you."

Your eyes widened, and you felt a jolt of electricity course through your body. The playful atmosphere evaporated in an instant, replaced by a crackling intensity that made your skin tingle. George's gaze met yours, his pupils dilating ever so slightly.

"We don't have to-" you started to say, but George cut you off with a subtle shake of his head. His voice low and husky. "No, it's okay. I want to answer."

"It's always the same dream," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "We're alone on a deserted beach at sunset. The sky is painted in shades of orange and pink, and the waves are gently lapping at our feet."

You felt your breath catch in your throat as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

He continued, his voice growing more confident. "You're wearing that white sundress I love, the one that shows off your shoulders. Your hair is loose, blowing in the sea breeze. I reach out to brush a strand from your face, and suddenly we're so close I can feel your breath on my lips."

The room was dead silent now, and you’re hanging onto George's every word.

Your heart raced as George's words painted a vivid picture, one that mirrored your own secret fantasies. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity.

"And then?" you whispered, barely trusting your voice.

George's eyes darkened. "Then I kiss you. Softly at first, but it quickly becomes more. My hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. You taste like salt and cherries."

You felt a flush creep up your neck, your skin tingling with each word.

"We fall back onto the sand," he continued, his voice low and intense. "The waves crash around us, but we don't care. All that matters is the feel of your skin against mine, the sound of your breath catching as I-"

George's voice trailed off, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air between you. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that seemed to pulse with each rapid beat of your heart. You realized you were holding your breath, your body leaning towards George unconsciously.

"As you what?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your pulse in your ears.

George swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. He looked almost pained, as if continuing would shatter some invisible barrier between fantasy and reality. But his eyes, dark and intense, never left yours.

"As I trace every curve of your body," he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. "As I worship you with my hands, my lips, my entire being. In that moment, you're my entire world."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, your skin erupting in goose bumps.

The silence that followed was deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, feel the heat radiating from your flushed skin. George's confession hung in the air between you, electric and charged with possibility.

"I..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. How could you possibly respond to such a raw, intimate revelation?

George's eyes searched yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire swirling in their depths. "Your turn," he said softly, pushing the deck of cards towards you with trembling fingers.

Your hand hovered over the stack, suddenly aware of how this next card could change everything. With a deep breath, you flipped it over.

"If you could do anything right now, without consequences, what would it be?"

The question seemed to mock you, daring you to voice the thoughts that had been building since George began speaking. You looked up, meeting his gaze once more. The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken tension.

"I..." you started again, your voice barely above a whisper. "I would make your fantasy a reality."

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implication. George's eyes widened, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly rose from your seat. Your heart pounded as you crossed the short distance between you, each step feeling like an eternity. George's gaze followed your movement, a mix of anticipation and disbelief etched across his features.

As you reached him, you gently took the card from his hands, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Then, with a courage you didn't know you possessed, you lowered yourself onto his lap, your legs straddling his.

George's hands instinctively moved to your waist, steading you.

"We may not have a sunset, but..." Your voice trailed off as you brought your face closer to his, your lips mere inches apart. "We can make our own paradise right here."

George's breath hitched, his fingers tightening on your waist. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you hovered on the precipice of something monumental. Then, with a soft groan, George closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

It was everything you had imagined and more. His lips were soft yet insistent, moving against yours with a passion that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

George's hands roamed your back, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. When you finally broke apart for air, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together.

"I've wanted this for so long," George murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His hands cupped your face gently, thumbs stroking your cheeks as if he couldn't quite believe you were real.

You leaned into his touch, your heart racing. "Me too," you whispered back, surprised by the intensity of your own feelings.

George's eyes searched yours, a mix of desire and vulnerability swirling in their depths. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in again, this time placing a soft, reverent kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. Each touch of his lips sent sparks through your body.

When he finally reclaimed your lips, the kiss was slower, deeper, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You melted into him, your bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low, barely above a whisper, as if the question was as much for him as it was for you.

You leaned in slightly, your breath mingling with his. "I’m sure," you murmured, before closing the distance between you with a kiss.

It started soft—tentative. But as the seconds stretched, it deepened, becoming more urgent. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth of his chest against yours, the rise and fall of his breath matching your own.

The world outside seemed to vanish. The only thing that mattered was the press of his lips against yours, the way his fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending sparks of electricity through your body. His touch was gentle at first, but as you shifted against him, something shifted in the air between you—a quiet hunger that neither of you could deny any longer.

"George," you whispered against his lips, a soft plea, and it was all it took. His hands moved to your face, cupping it as he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if he was losing himself to the moment.

You felt the intensity rise in him, in the way his hands wandered to the back of your neck, tugging gently, pulling you even closer. The taste of the wine mixed with the warmth of his mouth, and you could no longer tell where you ended and he began.

"Are you really sure?" he asked again, his voice rough with desire.

"Yes. I want this."

With that, the dam broke. His lips trailed down your jaw, your neck, leaving a fiery path behind. You shivered at the feeling, the electricity between you both undeniable. Each kiss, each touch, built the tension higher, and soon, it felt like the only thing you needed was him.

The wine seemed to fuel your courage as much as it fueled your desire, and soon you were both lost in the moment, not thinking about anything but the way your bodies responded to each other. His hands roamed freely, each touch sending your pulse racing, while you met him with equal eagerness, your fingers tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

As things heated up, you both moved to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. George's eyes roamed over you appreciatively as you lay back on the bed. He joined you, his warm body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another passionate kiss. His hands explored your curves, teasing and caressing. You arched into his touch, wanting more.

George trailed kisses down your neck and chest, taking his time to savor every inch of you. When his mouth found your breast, you gasped in pleasure. His tongue swirled around your nipple as his hand kneaded your other breast. The dual sensations sent waves of arousal through you.

You ran your fingers through his hair, urging him lower. He obliged, kissing down your stomach until he settled between your thighs. The first swipe of his tongue against your sensitive flesh had you moaning. He explored you thoroughly

George's lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your inner thighs. His warm breath against your sensitive skin made you shiver with anticipation. When his tongue finally made contact with your center, you gasped at the sensation. He started with slow, teasing licks before focusing his attention on your most sensitive spots.

As George's ministrations intensified, you felt waves of pleasure building inside you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as your hips rocked against his mouth. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them in a come hither motion that had you seeing stars. Thel stimulation quickly pushed you over the edge into a powerful climax that left you breathless.

Before you could fully recover, George was kissing his way back up your body. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands roamed over George's muscular back as he settled between your thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, igniting a fresh wave of desire. George gazed into your eyes, seeking silent permission. You nodded, pulling him closer.

He entered you slowly, both of you gasping at the exquisite sensation of finally being joined. George stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Then he began to move, setting a slow pace that had you arching beneath him.

Your bodies moved together in perfect synchronicity, finding a rhythm that built the pleasure higher and higher. George's lips found yours in a searing kiss as he quickened his thrusts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle and causing you both to cry out.

The room filled with the sounds of your shared passion - soft moans, gasps of pleasure, skin sliding against skin. The walls seemed to disappear, as if they were the only two people in the world. George's hips moved faster, his thrusts deep and primal, as if he couldn't get enough of her. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, urging her on.

You met his gaze, your breath ragged and your chest heaving. "George... I... I'm..."

He kissed you again, hard and desperate, silencing your words as he drove himself deeper inside you. "I've got you," he murmured against your lips. "Let go."

That was all the encouragement you needed. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. The intensity of your climax sent shockwaves through your body, your inner muscles clenching around George rhythmically. He groaned at the sensation, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. With a few final deep thrusts, George let out a guttural moan as he found his peak, trembling above you.

You both lay there panting, bodies intertwined and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. George's weight on top of you felt comforting rather than stifling. Sliding out, he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead tenderly before capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

"That was..." he trailed off, seeming at a loss for words.

"Yeah," you agreed breathlessly. "It really was."

George rolled to the side, pulling you close against him. You nestled into the crook of his arm, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. A comfortable silence fell between you as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

George's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, sending pleasant tingles through your body. You tilted your head up to look at him, taking in his tousled hair and flushed cheeks. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and contentment.

You both lay there for a moment, just breathing, both aware of the shift that had happened—of the line you had just crossed, and the new, thrilling tension that hung in the air. Neither of you spoke for a long time, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy.

"Well," he said, voice thick, "that… wasn’t how I expected the night to go."

You chuckled softly, catching your breath. "Yeah, me neither. But…"

"But?" he prompted, his eyes locking with yours, intense and filled with something new.

"But, maybe we should just go with it?"

He smiled at you, his lips curving mischievously. But when George finally broke the brief silence, it was with a soft chuckle.

"So… tomorrow," he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "I guess we're going on that Valentine's date after all."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound muffled against his chest. "I guess we are," you replied with a smile, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft and full of a warmth that made your heart flutter. As his eyes met yours, you knew that everything had changed.

Outside, the night continued on, unaware of the transformation happening within the walls of your flat. But inside, on this unexpected Valentine's Day, you found yourself celebrating not just the day itself, but the beginning of something new and exciting. As you snuggled closer to him, your head finding its now familiar spot on his shoulder, you both agreed to take a leap into the unknown together. This was more than just a date on the calendar - it was a promise for the future.

Valentine's Day was no longer a dreaded reminder of what you lacked, but a joyous celebration of what could be.

[sikyulioness]

"Too Late to Say Goodbye"

The dungeon was cold. Not in the way of ice or winter, but in a way that seeped into your bones, numbing everything. It felt endless—this silence, this solitude.

You sat slumped against a crumbling stone wall, your body too weak to move. The battle had ended hours ago. Or maybe it had been days? You had lost track of time. The only thing you knew for certain was that no one was coming.

Jin-Woo wasn’t coming.

Your fingers trembled as you unlocked your phone, the screen barely flickering to life. You had sent so many messages, so many calls. None of them answered.

"Jin-Woo, are you there?"

"Please call me."

"I'm scared."

"Jin-Woo, I don't want to die alone."

The last one had been sent hours ago. And still, there was nothing.

A soft, bitter chuckle escaped your lips, though it hurt to even laugh. Maybe this was fate’s way of telling you the truth you had been too afraid to face.

Jin-Woo had already moved on.

You had seen the way he looked at Cha Hae-In. The way his attention lingered on her, how he always seemed to be somewhere else when he was with you. You had known. Maybe not at first, but deep down, you had known.

And yet, you had still hoped.

The hope that he would choose you. That he would stay. That he would love you the way you had loved him.

Foolish.

Your vision blurred, but whether from exhaustion or unshed tears, you weren’t sure. The phone slipped from your grasp, the dim screen facing upward. It was the only light in the suffocating darkness of the dungeon.

You wanted to cry. To scream. To be angry. But you didn’t have the strength for any of it. All you could do was sit there, staring at the last text message you had sent.

"Jin-Woo, I don’t think I’m going to make it."

The words blurred. Your breathing slowed.

Maybe if you closed your eyes for just a little while…

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

---

Jin-Woo stood outside your apartment, a faint frown tugging at his lips. It had been a week since he had last heard from you. At first, he thought you were just upset with him.

But now… something felt wrong.

He knocked. Once. Twice. Silence.

His heart clenched. He had been so caught up—with dungeons, with the guild, with Hae-In—that he hadn’t even thought to check on you.

He reached for the door handle. Locked. But that was nothing to him. With a quiet motion, shadows slipped through the cracks, unlocking it with ease.

The moment he stepped inside, the air felt… off.

The place was untouched. Dust had begun to settle on the furniture. Your jacket was still draped over the couch, shoes neatly lined by the door. But there was no sign of you.

He grabbed his phone in his back pocket looking for your number to call and text where you were but there

He saw what you've texted him without him noticed

You begging him to save you and for him to come to comfort you

His breath caught.

The last one—

"Jin-Woo, I don’t think I’m going to make it."

His grip tightened, shadows trembling around him.

No.

No, this wasn’t real.

A horrible, sinking feeling spread through him as he summoned Beru. The shadow general appeared instantly, bowing.

"Find them," Jin-Woo commanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Beru hesitated. That alone made his stomach drop.

"My king…" The pause stretched painfully long. "They are gone."

Jin-Woo’s world stopped.

It felt like the floor had been ripped from beneath him. His mind refused to process the words.

Gone?

No.

No, you couldn’t be gone. You were waiting for him. He was supposed to apologize for being distant, for not calling, for everything.

His shadows stirred, reflecting the storm within him. But the truth was undeniable.

You had died. Alone.

While he had been with someone else. While he had been laughing, talking, kissing another woman—

You had been waiting for him. Hoping for him.

And he had never come.

A ragged breath left him as he gripped the phone in his shaking hands. The screen flickered, the last message glowing like a wound that would never heal.

He had failed you.

Not as the Shadow Monarch. Not as the strongest hunter in existence.

But as the man you had loved.

His fingers hovered over the keypad. He wanted to call you, to send a message, to say something—anything.

But there was nothing left to say.

The dead don’t answer phone calls.

And now, he would never get to say goodbye.

---

[yosh-iro]

wikihow to make people not hate you

[ectoplasmer]

rgrhrgrhgr going insane thinking about how I have felt so much love and affection for a character from a card game anime of all things!! for over two years!!! one of the most frustrating guys ever nonetheless!!!!

[random-thot-generator]

Ghost decides after one blind date that you're going to be his.

>>>>>

Simon isn't used to dating. A quick hook up in the loo, sure. A drunken one night stand? He's had too many of those to count. But proper courting? Hell, it's been years, maybe a decade, since he's taken a bird out on an actual date.

It's probably going to be a disaster, but he gave Johnny his word he'd go out with his bird's best friend, so he can't back out now. He'll just have to grit his teeth and power through it.

His sour outlook for the evening is forgotten the second he sees you walk in with Johnny's bird. You're no tipsy tart on the pull, like the birds he's used to dealing with. You're a proper lady, dolled up nice for your date with him. It makes his chest feel tight when he gets a good look at your pretty face and nervous little smile.

His usual gruff manner is obviously not going to fly with you, so he quickly tries to recall the mannerisms he's seen his captain use around women. He gets to his feet with Johnny when the two of you reach the table, trying his best to look less intimidating.

Johnny introduces the two of you, and Simon melts inside when he takes your soft little hand in his for the first time. His brain goes fuzzy, dark eyes glazing over, and he's not sure what he says when he greets you, but it earns him a smile.

"It's really nice to meet you, Simon," are the first words you say to him.

Your voice is soft and sweet, and the way you say his name? Oh, he's gonna need to hear more of that, and often.

For the first time in a long time, Simon's worried about what someone thinks of him. He's worried he'll put you off with his harsh manner. So, he minds his words and gentles his tone. He slows his steps to match your pace and tucks your small hand at his elbow to keep you close and safe. He's holding doors and pulling out your chair. He compliments your dress and hair.

And when your heel catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, he doesn't bark a laugh or say something mean, wouldn't bloody dream of it. No, he catches you before you fall, and all that softness in his hands makes something shift in his brain. You're such a fragile little thing, delicate as spun sugar. You need a big nasty mutt like him to protect you, take care of you, and he's more than willing to do the job.

When the date is over, Simon sees you home, and you kiss him on your front stoop. It's not all groping hands and tangling tongues. It's a gentle press of lips, his big hands cradling your face, the sweet intimacy making his eyes flutter shut. He's floating when he finally gets back in his truck and drives himself home.

Instead of going to bed, Simon begins to formulate a plan of strategy. He figures it'll take a few more dates before you invite him into your flat, and several more after that before you invite him into your bed, then eventually into your life. It might take months, even a year or more. That's alright, though. If his years in the military have taught him anything, it's patience.

Simon knows how to play the long game. He'll go at your pace, let you get used to having him around, then make himself indispensable to you. No one will treat you as good, meet your every need and desire the way he will. He won't stop until he is your world, your reason for being. Your everything.

And when enough time has passed, he'll claim you completely as his. He's going to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly, then tuck you away safe and sound in one of those cute country cottages he looked up online. You'll be his little missus, and he'll be your tamed beast, keeping his teeth and claws hidden but at the ready.

By the time he arrives at your flat the next evening for your second date, he's already got your engagement ring in his safe at home and the names of your future children picked out.

And when you text him the day after to invite him for dinner, the new name he replaced yours with pops up on his screen.

It says 'Missus Riley', of course.

-