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jzprncess · 2 days ago

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the neighbor effect

pairing : oscar piastri x reader

oneshot

word count : 9,449

summary : Y/N moves to Monaco for a fresh start, thinking it’s just gonna be her, baking, and figuring things out. Then there’s her neighbor, Oscar—super chill, always around, but completely mysterious. They bond over cookies and muffins, and Y/N has no idea that he’s actually a Formula 1 driver. But when the Monaco Grand Prix weekend rolls around, everything goes haywire when Y/N realizes she’s been living next to someone way more famous than she ever imagined. Between all the confusion, a surprise kiss, and the chaos that follows, Y/N’s not sure if she’s in over her head—or if she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

note : i had to rewrite parts of this over and over again. this is my longest fic so far, lets clap it up. i actually cooked with this one, please like it.

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Moving to Monaco in the middle of December sounded a lot more glamorous in theory. In reality, I spent my first night huddled under three mismatched blankets, seriously debating whether the heating in my shiny new apartment was broken or if this was just what Mediterranean winter felt like.

I’d moved here for a fresh start, something about leaving old baggage behind and stepping into the next chapter of my life. Except no one tells you that starting over often means spending a lot of time alone, wondering if you made the right decision.

That’s how I found myself in the hallway on my second day, struggling to carry a too-large box labeled Kitchen Stuff & Regret. I hadn’t realized how much I’d overpacked until I was halfway to my door, my arms trembling under the weight.

“Need a hand?”

The voice startled me, and I nearly dropped the box. I turned to see a guy standing a few feet away, wearing a black hoodie, gray joggers, and a curious expression.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” I lied, immediately regretting it as the box tilted precariously.

“Right,” he said, clearly unconvinced. Without waiting for permission, he stepped forward and took the box from me like it weighed nothing.

“Show-off,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Just being neighborly.”

“Thanks,” I said as he followed me to my door. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Oscar,” he replied, setting the box down inside my apartment.

Up close, I could see he was probably around my age—early twenties—with sharp features and an easy confidence about him. He glanced around my half-unpacked living room, taking in the mess of boxes and furniture.

“Just moved in?” he asked.

“Yeah. Trying to figure out where I want everything before I give up and let chaos take over.”

He smiled, nodding toward the box. “Well, good luck with that. I’m right across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I said, leaning against the doorframe as he stepped back into the hallway.

“See you around,” he said with a nod before disappearing into his apartment.

And just like that, I had my first real interaction with the mysterious neighbor across the hall.

After he left, I stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the closed door across from mine like it might open again. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. With a shrug, I kicked the box into the living room, officially declaring it a problem for Future Me.

The next few days were a blur of unpacking, assembling furniture, and discovering that Monaco in December was a lot colder than I’d prepared for. Gone were my delusions of sipping coffee on the balcony in the morning sun. Instead, I huddled inside, bundled in my coziest hoodie, and watched the world outside through the frost-slicked windows.

Oscar, true to his enigmatic vibe, was nowhere to be seen. A part of me wondered if he was some kind of ghost who only materialized to save clumsy new neighbors and then vanished into the ether. But his sporadic comings and goings proved otherwise—sometimes I’d hear the ding of the elevator late at night or the faint shuffle of footsteps in the hallway. I never caught him, though.

Until one particularly cold Saturday morning.

I was juggling a steaming mug of coffee, my phone, and a box of garbage bags as I headed for the trash chute at the end of the hall. The scene was already precarious, but things got worse when my phone buzzed with a notification. I glanced down instinctively, and that was my fatal error.

One wrong step, and my foot caught on absolutely nothing because I’m just that talented. I stumbled forward, my coffee cup slipping from my grasp in a glorious slow-motion arc.

“Oh, sh—”

A hand shot out, catching the cup mid-air.

“Impressive,” came the familiar voice.

I turned, my face hot with embarrassment, to see Oscar standing there, coffee cup in one hand and an amused smirk on his face. He was in the same casual uniform as before—hoodie, joggers, and sneakers—but this time with a beanie pulled low over his head.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I said, trying to play it cool despite the very uncool way I’d almost face planted.

“You’re welcome,” he said, handing me the cup.

“How do you keep showing up exactly when I’m about to embarrass myself?”

“Great timing, I guess,” he replied, leaning against the wall.

I could tell he was holding back a laugh, which only made me more flustered. “Do you just hang out in the hallway waiting for me to trip over thin air, or…?”

“Caught me,” he said, deadpan. “It’s my new hobby.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Well, thanks for the save… again.”

“No problem.” He glanced down at the garbage bags I’d dropped in the chaos. “You planning to carry all that to the chute by yourself, or should I brace for round two of Disaster Neighbor?”

“Ha, ha,” I said, handing him a bag. “Since you’re offering, you might as well help.”

third pov

By the time they made it to the trash chute, Y/N had successfully recovered from her near wipeout—mostly. Oscar, on the other hand, seemed far too amused by the whole thing.

“So,” she said, trying to fill the silence as they walked back to their apartments. “Do you just live in the gym, or are you naturally good at catching falling objects and lifting heavy things?”

He shrugged. “Bit of both.”

“Not much of a talker, huh?”

He glanced at her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I talk when there’s something to say.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Mysterious and vague. Classic.”

They stopped outside her door, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence. She fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were standing.

“Well, thanks for the help. Again.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone casual but warm.

She opened her door, stepping inside. As she turned to close it, she caught him glancing down the hallway, like he was debating something.

“See you around?” she offered.

“Yeah,” he said, meeting her gaze. “See you around.”

The door clicked shut, and Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She leaned against the door for a moment, her mind replaying the interaction like a movie montage.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And for now, that was enough.

y/n’s pov

It all started with a craving and a little too much confidence.

Baking had always been my go-to for stress relief, but I tended to overestimate how much one person could realistically eat before things got weird. Case in point: the mountain of oatmeal walnut cookies currently cooling on every flat surface of my kitchen.

“Great job, Y/N,” I muttered, surveying the sugary battlefield. “Really nailed the whole moderation thing.”

The smell of warm cinnamon and toasted walnuts was amazing, but even I had limits. Unless I planned on eating cookies for every meal for the next week—which, tempting as it sounded, probably wasn’t the move—I needed a plan.

That’s when my eyes flicked toward the door across the hall.

My neighbor hadn’t been home much, but when he was, he seemed nice enough. And if anyone looked like they could put away an entire batch of cookies without breaking a sweat, it was the guy who casually caught flying coffee cups and lifted trash bags like they were empty.

Grabbing a plate, I stacked a neat pile of cookies on it, covering them with foil. I debated for a second, wondering if this was too random, but then I thought, What’s the worst that could happen? Worst case: no one’s home, and I keep the cookies. Best case: I earn brownie points—or, well, cookie points—with the mysterious dude across the hall.

Balancing the plate in one hand, I opened my door and stepped into the hallway.

third pov

Y/N hesitated in front of Oscar’s door, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet the hallway was. For all she knew, he could’ve been halfway across the world. But before she could talk herself out of it, she raised her free hand and knocked lightly.

There was a pause, long enough for her to start retreating, but then she heard the lock turn.

The door opened to reveal Oscar, looking a little rumpled but still effortlessly put-together in a hoodie and sweats. His hair stuck up slightly, like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Uh, hey,” Y/N started, holding up the plate like an offering. “I, um, baked too many cookies and thought… maybe you’d want some?”

For a second, Oscar just blinked at her. Then a small smile tugged at his lips, softening his usual stoic expression. “Cookies?”

“Oatmeal walnut,” she said, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous. “Unless you’re allergic to walnuts. In which case, I’m so sorry, and I’ll just—”

“I’m not allergic,” he cut in, stepping aside. “Come in.”

y/n’s pov

I followed him into his apartment, still holding onto the slightly awkward feeling of standing at someone’s door with a plate of cookies. His space was immaculate—like a showroom. Sleek black counters, stainless steel appliances, and not a single thing out of place. My own apartment, with its half-unpacked boxes and cluttered surfaces, suddenly felt like a war zone by comparison.

“Wow,” I said, glancing around. “Your place is… ridiculously clean. Do you live here or just visit?”

He smirked as he placed the plate of cookies on the counter. “I’m not here much. It’s easier to keep clean when you’re gone half the time.”

“Fair,” I said, leaning against the counter as he peeled the foil off the plate. “Meanwhile, my place looks like I’m hoarding cardboard boxes and random piles of clothes. Maybe I’ll just hire you to organize for me.”

He glanced up, an amused glint in his eye. “I’ll pass. But thanks for the offer.”

I laughed. “That was fast. I didn’t even get to bribe you with more cookies.”

“Speaking of,” he said, picking one up and turning it over in his hand like he was inspecting it for quality control, “what made you bake… this many?”

“Stress,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “Unpacking is the worst. Plus, I’m a chronic over-baker. I think I made about sixty.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a bite. “Sixty?”

“Give or take.”

“You know there’s only one of you, right?”

“That’s why I’m here,” I said with a grin. “I figured I’d share the wealth.”

He nodded, chewing thoughtfully. After a moment, he swallowed and said, “These are good.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you? Be honest.”

“I’m serious,” he said, reaching for another. “If I didn’t like them, you’d know.”

“Good to know you don’t sugarcoat things,” I said. “No pun intended.”

“Sure it wasn’t,” he said with a small smirk.

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “You’re lucky I like honesty. Anyway, I hope you’re hungry because I’ve got a whole army’s worth of these across the hall.”

“I can tell,” he said, grabbing a second cookie. “You ever thought about selling these?”

“Selling cookies? No, not really,” I said, a little flustered by the compliment. “I mean, it’s just a hobby.”

He leaned against the counter, taking another bite. “Could be a profitable hobby.”

“Oh yeah? Think I could make it big with oatmeal walnut cookies? Maybe I’ll start a cookie empire.”

“Could be worth a shot,” he said, his tone completely serious, though I could see the hint of humor in his expression.

“Alright, well, if I go global, I’ll make sure to mention you in my TED Talk about chasing my dreams,” I said with a laugh.

“Appreciate it,” he said, deadpan.

I shook my head, still smiling. “Alright, I should get going. Don’t want to interrupt your… whatever you were doing before I showed up.”

He glanced toward his living room, where a laptop sat open on the coffee table. “Wasn’t doing much. Just catching up on some things.”

“Well, now you’ve got cookies to keep you company,” I said, pushing off the counter.

“Thanks for these,” he said, walking with me toward the door. “They’re seriously good.”

“Anytime,” I replied. “And if you ever need more… or, you know, want to start organizing my apartment, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, opening the door for me.

I stepped into the hallway and turned back to face him. “Enjoy the cookies, Oscar.”

“Thanks, Y/N. See you around.”

As the door clicked shut behind me, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. It was such a simple interaction, but it left me feeling lighter somehow—like I was finally settling into this new life, one cookie and awkward conversation at a time.

third pov

The morning light streaming through the kitchen window felt different today, like a fresh start. Y/N stood at the counter, stirring a bowl of banana bread batter with a slight smile on her face. She had a steady rhythm, something she had found comfort in since moving to Monaco. Today, however, was different. She wasn't just baking for herself or because she had nothing else to do.

After dropping off the cookies to Oscar yesterday, she’d felt an odd rush of excitement. Oscar hadn’t said much—just thanked her and ate them right there—but there was something in the way he seemed genuinely happy that had sparked an idea in her head.

Maybe I should actually consider this...

She’d been thinking about it all night, the thought gnawing at her in the quiet moments before sleep. A job. Something more than just living off her savings while she figured out what to do with herself. The idea of working in a bakery, helping people start their day with something sweet, didn’t sound half bad. Maybe she’d make some friends along the way, too.

She paused mid-stir to glance around her kitchen. It was quiet—too quiet. Her move to Monaco had been a whirlwind, and while the city was beautiful, the loneliness had crept in unexpectedly. She had only met Oscar three times, and those encounters hadn't been enough to spark a friendship, though he had been kind enough to compliment the cookies she’d given him. But she still didn't have his number. She had no way of reaching out to him for anything beyond another casual greeting if their paths crossed again.

With a sigh, she refocused on her muffin batter. The oven was preheated and ready for the batch of banana muffins she had planned. She didn’t even need the muffins for herself—she simply needed something to do.

She scrolled through a few ads on her phone for bakeries and cafes around Monaco, her fingers flying across the screen as she filled out application after application. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the start of something new.

The smell of ripe bananas filled the room, and Y/N smiled. There was something simple and grounding about baking. She didn’t need anyone else to validate her, but a small part of her wished she had someone to share the muffins with. Maybe she would take a batch to one of the cafes she’d applied to, just to show that she could bake more than just cookies.

The timer went off, signaling that the muffins were done. She pulled them from the oven, their golden tops warm and inviting. As she arranged them on a cooling rack, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a step in the right direction.

Oscar’s casual suggestion about working at a bakery had lingered with her since yesterday. She hadn’t really considered it before, but now, with a fresh batch of muffins in hand, it felt like the right time to take action. She’d send some applications today, maybe stop by a few places, and see where it led.

Even if it was just a way to get out of the apartment, maybe it would help her feel a little less alone.

After a few hours of cleaning up and putting away the last batch of muffins, Y/N sat on her couch, scrolling through her phone. She had sent a few applications and gotten a couple of quick responses asking her to come in for interviews. The thought made her feel lighter, like she was moving in the right direction. But, as she scrolled through her messages, she found herself wondering about the cookies she'd given Oscar yesterday.

What if he didn’t even like them? she thought for a second, gnawing at her lower lip. She had never done something like that for a neighbor before. It was a little… weird. But then again, they had barely talked, and she'd barely known anyone here. He probably just thought it was some random act of kindness, nothing more.

Still, she couldn't help the little spark of excitement that lingered in her chest.

With the muffins cooling on the kitchen counter, Y/N decided to go for a walk to clear her head. She tossed on her coat, scarf, and gloves—layers that were necessary with the December chill in the air—and left her apartment. The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city settled into the crisp stillness of a cold winter evening.

As she made her way down the narrow streets, her breath puffed out in little clouds in front of her. The air was freezing, her fingers cold against her gloves, but the walk felt necessary. It was good to get out, especially with how cooped up she had been lately. The familiar feeling of solitude wrapped around her as she passed by boutique storefronts with their windows adorned for the holidays, the twinkling lights reflecting off the damp cobblestones.

She stopped at one of the cafes, the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries pulling her inside. The door closed behind her with a satisfying jingle, and the warmth hit her face immediately. She smiled, relieved to be out of the cold.

“Coffee?” the barista asked as she walked up to the counter.

Y/N nodded, pulling off her scarf. "Please. A hot cappuccino, if you’ve got it."

The barista gave her a warm smile as she prepared the drink, and soon enough, Y/N had a steaming cup in her hands. She found a small corner table by the window and sank into the chair, basking in the warmth of the café. It was a cozy little spot, the kind where time seemed to slow down.

She stared out the window as the temperature outside dropped even further, the last few people hurrying by in layers of coats and scarves. The city felt almost otherworldly, peaceful and cold, a strange mix of quiet stillness. Y/N took a sip of her cappuccino and leaned back, letting the warmth seep into her bones.

It was then that she heard the door open again, a jingle sounding through the cafe. She glanced up, her eyes scanning the new arrivals. Her gaze landed on the familiar figure—Oscar, her neighbor, walking in with his coat zipped up tight against the cold.

He spotted her right away and waved with a grin. "Hey, Y/N!" he greeted her.

Y/N smiled back, a little surprised to see him here but pleased. “Hey, Oscar. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, I just needed a quick coffee break,” he said, walking up to the counter. He ordered something quickly, then turned back toward her. “How’s your day been?”

She shrugged, feeling a little shy now that they were actually talking. “Good. Just baking and applying for some jobs,” she said, gesturing to her cup. “Needed to get out for a bit. It's freezing out there.”

Oscar nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I know what you mean. It’s cold enough to freeze your breath. I was just out getting some stuff for my place.”

The small talk felt comfortable, and Y/N found herself a little more relaxed with him standing there. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy—just a neighbor.

“Well, it’s nice to see a friendly face,” she said, smiling. “Monaco's a little lonely for me right now, to be honest.”

Oscar smiled back. “I get that. I moved here for work, and it's not always easy to adjust. You’re not alone, though. Everyone here’s pretty friendly.”

Y/N appreciated the sentiment and nodded, taking another sip of her drink. “Thanks, Oscar. It’s good to know.”

As he grabbed his coffee, Oscar gave her a wave before heading to a table by the window. Y/N returned to her thoughts, a warm feeling lingering in her chest. They hadn’t exchanged more than pleasantries, but something about the simple, easy conversation made her feel a little less isolated.

Y/N took another sip of her cappuccino, her eyes still lingering on Oscar as he settled at a table by the window. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a weirdly comfortable interaction, like one of those moments where you just feel like you clicked with someone—even if it was just casual banter about the cold.

And then, as she sat there thinking about how chill the whole thing had been, something inside her clicked.

A rush of confidence hit her like a wave. She wasn’t gonna sit here thinking about it for another second. She stood up, grabbed her cup, and made her way over to Oscar’s table like she owned the place. No hesitation. She slid into the seat in front of him without asking, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin.

“Well, well, you’re sitting so far from me. I was just telling you how lonely I was, and here you are, acting like you’re too cool to sit with me,” she said, eyebrow raised, voice teasing.

Oscar blinked in surprise for a second, clearly not expecting her to come over. But then he chuckled, clearly amused. “Wasn’t trying to be rude. Just thought I’d give you some space.”

“Oh, no space needed,” Y/N shot back, pretending to think for a second. “But if you want, I did make some banana muffins. 25 of them, actually. So, uh, you can have some later, I guess… if you’re lucky.” She leaned back, her tone playful.

Oscar’s grin spread wider, and Y/N could swear she saw his eyes light up a little at the mention of food. “Banana muffins, huh?” he said, leaning forward in his seat, the playful energy between them clear. “You’re really trying to tempt me, huh?”

Y/N smirked. “Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you’ll have to find out later.” She took another sip of her cappuccino, looking around the cozy café for a moment before her eyes landed back on him. “So, what’s your story, anyway? Besides buying coffee and sitting by windows, I mean.”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, clearly comfortable now. “Not much to tell,” he said casually. “Just trying to survive this cold. What about you, Y/N? What’s your deal?”

Y/N just shrugged, feeling more at ease with each passing second. “Oh, you know, baking muffins, trying to find a job, avoiding getting too lost in the city…” She shot him a quick look. “Honestly, though, Monaco’s a little weird, but I’m getting used to it. It’s quiet, but not the fun kind of quiet.”

Oscar nodded, his smile softening. “I get that. I felt the same when I first moved here.”

They both sat there for a few seconds, enjoying the unexpected company in a way that felt surprisingly easy for a random Tuesday afternoon.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, letting the conversation with Oscar flow naturally as they both sipped their drinks. The winter air outside had only gotten colder, but the warmth from the café made it all feel like the perfect backdrop for the two of them to talk.

“So,” Y/N began, her eyes catching his, a sudden boldness hitting her again. “Since you’re clearly not going to accept my muffin offer until later, how about we do something else next time? You know, before I leave Monaco to escape all the cold?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Escape the cold, huh? Where would you even go?”

Y/N shrugged, tapping her cup with a playful grin. “Maybe I’ll find a place that has better heating. Monaco’s nice and all, but a little more sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fair point,” Oscar chuckled. He paused for a moment, then looked at her with that signature, easygoing smile. “I could show you around sometime, if you wanted. Monaco’s got some hidden gems.”

Her heart gave a little skip at his suggestion, but she played it cool. “I’d like that. But I’m not one for getting lost in tourist traps, so it better be good.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not taking you to the usual spots,” he said, leaning back slightly, amused. “I promise. You’ll actually see some of the cool stuff here.”

She smiled, feeling the conversation shifting toward something a little more personal. And then, almost as if it was the next step, Y/N caught herself hesitating, but quickly brushed it off. “Well, if we’re going to plan that, we should probably exchange numbers. You know, in case I want to text you to stop you from taking me to any tourist traps.”

Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He handed it to her without a second thought.

“Good call,” he said with a teasing grin. “Here you go.”

Y/N took the phone and entered her number, her fingers flying across the screen. She handed it back to him with a smirk. “There. Now you can’t ghost me when I ask for your ‘hidden gem’ suggestions.”

Oscar laughed, saving her number with a nod. “Not planning on ghosting. I’ll make sure you get to see all the cool spots in Monaco.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, the buzz of the conversation still lingering between them. It felt weirdly easy, and she liked that. “Alright then. It’s a date,” she said with a wink.

“Not sure if it’s a date,” he teased, “but I’ll take it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the connection between them feeling a little more real. “Fine, not a date,” she replied, “but when it happens, I’ll hold you to that promise.”

few months timeskip

Over the next few months, Y/N and Oscar settled into an unspoken rhythm. They didn’t see each other often, but when they did, it felt easy. Whether it was quick coffee breaks at the café or a casual text exchange about the best banana bread recipe, they managed to keep in touch.

Oscar, as expected, was always on the move. Y/N had asked him once what he did for work that kept him jet-setting around the world, but his response had been vague. Something about traveling for events and having a packed schedule. She didn’t push for more details, assuming it was some high-level corporate gig or freelance work that required constant relocation. Either way, she didn’t mind. They had their moments, and that was enough for now.

As for Y/N, she had settled into Monaco in a way that felt almost surreal. After a few weeks of relentless job hunting, she’d landed a position at one of the coziest bakeries in the city. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was exactly what she needed—a place to bake, to create, and to lose herself in the comforting scent of fresh bread and pastries.

Her days were now filled with kneading dough, piping frosting, and experimenting with new recipes. The bakery had its quirks, from the slightly eccentric owner who insisted on playing 80s pop music all day to her coworkers who ranged from quiet and reserved to downright chaotic. Somehow, it all worked. Y/N found herself laughing more, learning more, and slowly but surely, calling Monaco home.

Outside of work, Y/N was finally starting to build a life for herself. Some of her coworkers had become fast friends, dragging her out of the kitchen and into the buzzing nightlife Monaco had to offer. From late-night drinks at chic rooftop bars to dancing under neon lights at clubs tucked away in narrow streets, Y/N found herself embracing a side of life she hadn’t tapped into before.

It was one of those rare free days where Y/N could relax and enjoy the slowly warming Monaco weather. The gentle breeze carried in through the slightly cracked window, and the temperature hovered at a perfect 65 degrees—just cool enough to make the indoors cozy but warm enough to remind her that summer was around the corner.

Her kitchen counter was a controlled chaos of melted chocolate, parchment paper, and a vibrant pile of freshly washed strawberries. She’d decided on a whim to make chocolate-covered strawberries—a light, summery treat that felt perfect for the day. At first, it had been fun, methodically dipping each strawberry into the glossy chocolate and adding a drizzle of white chocolate for flair. But somewhere along the way, she’d gotten carried away.

When she stepped back and looked at her work, she let out a soft laugh. “This is... way too many strawberries,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. She grabbed one and took a bite, the sweetness of the strawberry perfectly balancing the richness of the chocolate.

As she finished the last one, her gaze fell on a smaller bowl she’d unconsciously filled. Without thinking, she began packing it up to bring to Oscar. It had become second nature by now—whenever she baked, she always set some aside for him. But as she made her way to the door, bowl in hand, she paused.

Her mind caught up to her actions, and she froze, staring at the door. “Wait... he’s not even home,” she muttered, groaning softly. Of course, she knew Oscar was traveling. He always was. So why had she automatically prepared something for him like he’d just be next door?

She stared at the bowl, her cheeks burning as the realization hit her. “Oh my god, I miss him,” she whispered to herself, the words making her cringe as they left her lips. She set the bowl down on the counter and groaned louder, pressing her hands against her flushed cheeks.

The thought swirled in her head, undeniable now that it had surfaced. She liked him—more than as just her friendly, quiet neighbor. She liked him in a way that made her heart race and her brain short-circuit.

She groaned again and began pacing the room. “No, no, nope. I am not catching feelings for a guy I barely know,” she muttered. But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. They’d been building something—small moments of connection over the past few months that had left her looking forward to every knock on the door or text message.

With a huff, she grabbed her phone and typed out a quick text:

y/n : when are you coming home??

She hit send before she could overthink it, tossing the phone onto her couch and flopping down beside it. The May breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of spring flowers, but Y/N couldn’t shake the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “This is going to be... complicated,” she muttered to herself, covering her face with her hands.

Y/N’s phone dinged, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. She sat up quickly, snatching the device from where it had landed on the couch. Her heart did a little flip as she saw Oscar’s name pop up on the screen. She unlocked it to read his response:

oscar : I’ll be back in like 2 weeks but only for a bit—what’s up? 👀

She stared at the message, a small smile tugging at her lips. Of course, he’d throw in the eyeball emoji—it was such an Oscar thing to do, always mixing casual with a bit of humor.

For a moment, she debated how to respond. She couldn’t just say, Oh, nothing, I just made too many chocolate-covered strawberries and realized I might like you—that would be mortifying. Instead, she opted for something neutral, a safe middle ground:

y/n : Oh, no reason. Just wondering! Hope it’s not too hectic for you.

As soon as she hit send, she groaned softly, leaning back against the couch. That was a lie, but what else could she say? She put her phone down and rubbed her temples, trying to ignore the sudden burst of warmth in her chest. Two weeks wasn’t that long, right?

Still, the thought lingered in her mind: she’d never been this excited for someone to come home before.

two week timeskip

Two weeks had passed in a blur, the days slipping by faster than Y/N anticipated. The Italian Grand Prix had wrapped up over the weekend, and Monaco was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming race. The city had been transforming in preparation—barricades going up, streets morphing into a circuit, and the harbor becoming a sea of luxury yachts.

Y/N hadn’t seen or heard much from Oscar since his text, but she’d been counting down the days. He’d said he’d be home this week, and while she wasn’t exactly waiting by her door, she had taken it upon herself to have some baked goodies ready. Just in case.

A tray of brownies sat cooling on her counter alongside a tin of lemon cookies, and she was busy wiping down her kitchen counters when a knock echoed through her apartment.

Her first instinct was casual curiosity—probably her neighbor asking to borrow something or the package delivery guy. Without overthinking, she grabbed a towel to dry her hands and headed to the door, opening it mid-yawn.

And there he was.

Oscar stood on the other side, casual as ever in a hoodie and jeans, his hair slightly messy, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His expression was warm, a soft smile playing on his lips as he raised a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” he said, his voice calm, like it hadn’t been two weeks since they last spoke.

Y/N blinked, gripping the door frame for a second. She’d spent days prepping treats for his arrival, imagining this exact moment, and now her brain decided to freeze. “You’re here?” she blurted, as though he wasn’t standing directly in front of her.

His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “Yeah, I figured I’d drop in unannounced. Hope that’s cool.”

She shook off her surprise, stepping aside to let him in. “Uh, yeah, obviously. Come in!”

Oscar stepped inside, glancing around her apartment like he always did, his eyes eventually landing on the counter full of baked goods. He raised an eyebrow and gestured toward it. “You bake for me, or is this just, like, an everyday thing?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she quickly shut the door. “I mean... maybe a little of both?” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I wasn’t sure when you’d show up, so I figured better safe than sorry.”

He laughed, dropping his bag by the couch. “You’re unbelievable. You know that, right?”

“Is that a thank-you?” she teased, crossing her arms with a smirk.

Oscar plucked a cookie off the tray, taking a bite and humming dramatically. “That’s me saying you’re way too nice to me. This is amazing, by the way.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips anyway. Seeing him standing there, relaxed and happy, filled her with a warmth she didn’t quite know what to do with.

Oscar finished the cookie and grabbed another without asking, leaning casually against her counter like he belonged there. “So, what’ve you been up to? Still baking up a storm every day?”

Y/N smirked, grabbing the tray of brownies and cutting them into perfect squares. “Pretty much. Got to keep the bakery stocked and the bills paid somehow. Plus, it’s Monaco—people are weirdly obsessed with pastries here. Speaking of, how was Italy? Or wherever you were this time?”

Oscar hesitated, his chewing slowing down. “Uh, yeah. Italy was... busy. Lots of... work.”

She raised an eyebrow, catching the slight awkwardness in his tone. “Work? You’re always traveling for this mystery job of yours. You must be a spy or something.”

His laugh came a little too quickly, and he avoided her gaze by grabbing a brownie. “Yeah, something like that. I’d tell you, but then I’d have to... you know.” He made a mock gun gesture with his fingers, winking playfully.

Y/N snorted. “Very convincing. Totally not suspicious at all.”

Changing the subject, Oscar gestured toward the goodies she’d prepared. “You’re going to spoil me, you know that? Showing up with treats, stocking your place with more of them... You’re setting a dangerous precedent.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Y/N teased, nudging him gently as she carried the brownies to a tin for storage. “I only bake extra when I’m bored.”

“Or when you miss me,” he added, grinning mischievously.

Her hands froze for a split second, her cheeks heating up as she quickly turned back to the brownies. “In your dreams,” she muttered, but the way her voice wavered slightly made him chuckle.

Oscar didn’t press further, instead grabbing a glass of water and perching on the armrest of her couch. “So, the monaco grand prix coming up,” he said casually.

“Yeah, the whole city’s already turning into one big construction zone,” Y/N replied, plopping down onto the couch next to him. “Feels like everyone’s losing their minds over it. What’s the big deal? Is it, like, a festival or something?”

Oscar blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before quickly recovering. “Uh, yeah, kind of. It’s... a big event. Happens every year.”

She nodded, leaning back into the cushions. “Well, hopefully, it’s not too crazy. Are you staying for it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “At least for a bit. But it gets hectic, so I might disappear again.”

“Classic Oscar,” Y/N said with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?” he countered, nudging her with his elbow.

“You are,” she admitted, glancing over at him. Their eyes met briefly, and for a second, the air between them felt heavier, like something unspoken lingered just beneath the surface.

Before she could dwell on it, she cleared her throat and stood up. “Anyway, brownies are cooling, cookies are packed, and now you have snacks for however long you’re staying.”

Oscar smirked, leaning back and stretching his arms behind his head. “And here I thought you just liked having me around.”

Y/N grabbed a pillow from the couch and lightly tossed it at him. “Don’t push your luck.”

He caught the pillow effortlessly, laughing. “Fine, fine. But seriously, thanks. It’s nice being back. Even if it’s just for a bit.”

Her smile softened, and she nodded. “Yeah. yeah.”

The evening carried on in easy conversation, the kind of flow Y/N had come to enjoy when Oscar was around. He had a way of making the hours slip by without her even realizing it.

At some point, she found herself sitting cross-legged on the floor while Oscar took up most of the couch, recounting a chaotic story about a “work trip” that involved a delayed flight, a misplaced bag, and someone accidentally ordering 40 sandwiches. He was animated as he spoke, using hand gestures and exaggerated expressions to emphasize every twist and turn.

“So, there I was,” Oscar said, his voice growing serious, “stuck with 40 ham and cheese sandwiches at 3 a.m., wondering if this was some kind of cosmic punishment.”

Y/N burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as tears formed in her eyes. “You’re kidding. Please tell me you ate at least one.”

“Of course, I did,” he replied, grinning. “I ate five. And then I passed out on a bench because there was nowhere else to sit. Absolute rock bottom.”

Y/N shook her head, still laughing. “You live such a weird life. Sandwich catastrophes at 3 a.m. while traveling the world for your super-secret job? Must be exhausting.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s a lot sometimes. But I guess I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

There was something in his tone, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that made her pause. She wanted to ask more, to dig deeper, but she hesitated. She didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted mood.

Instead, she grinned and teased, “Well, if you ever need someone to help you through another sandwich crisis, you know where to find me.”

Oscar laughed, tossing a couch cushion at her. “Noted. You’re officially on my emergency sandwich team.”

The sound of their laughter filled the room, and for a while, everything felt easy and uncomplicated.

A little later, after the plates were cleared and the leftovers tucked away, Oscar stood by the door, his duffel bag back in hand.

“Thanks for letting me crash your evening,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Crash? Please, I basically invited you the second I opened the door,” Y/N replied, smirking.

He smiled, lingering for a moment. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, leaning against the doorframe opposite him. “Don’t forget to grab some of the cookies on your way out. And the brownies.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to fatten me up or something?”

“Maybe,” she teased. “It’s part of my evil plan.”

He chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her hair before stepping into the hallway. “See you soon, Y/N.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N stood there for a moment, her heart fluttering in a way she wasn’t quite ready to admit.

The week passed quickly, the anticipation of the Monaco Grand Prix hanging in the air. The city was buzzing with energy, but Y/N kept herself busy at work, focusing on perfecting her recipes and keeping her mind off the person who had quickly become a constant presence in her thoughts.

But no matter how busy she kept, she couldn’t help but wonder when she’d see him again—and if things between them would ever shift into something more.

As the Monaco Grand Prix loomed closer, Y/N found herself noticing the increased buzz around the city. Banners and posters for the event were plastered on every available surface, and crowds started trickling in. Y/N had no idea what all the fuss was about, aside from the fact that everyone seemed excited.

Oscar had been texting her throughout the week, and she’d been looking forward to catching up with him again. She was in the middle of prepping a new batch of pastries when she heard a familiar knock on her door.

“Hey,” she greeted, opening the door to find Oscar standing there, looking casual in a tee and shorts, clearly just back from a training session.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, stepping inside. “How’s it going?”

“Busy as always,” Y/N said, wiping her hands on a towel. “But I’m managing. The bakery’s been crazy with all the tourists. You’d think I was selling gold instead of cookies.”

Oscar chuckled. “Yeah, Monaco gets a little nuts this time of year.” He glanced around, then looked back at her with a grin. “You know, with the Grand Prix coming up, I was thinking—you should totally come with me this weekend. I’ll be around, and I could use some company. I’m pretty sure you’ve never seen anything like it.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not sure what he meant. “The Grand Prix? What is that, like, a huge concert or something?”

Oscar blinked, surprised by her response but quickly recovering. “Uh, no, not really. It’s... um, a big race.”

“A race?” Y/N echoed. “Like cars?”

“Yeah, like super-fast cars,” Oscar explained, trying not to laugh. “Formula 1 cars. It’s kind of a big deal around here.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, so this race is happening in the city?”

“Yep,” he said, nodding. “And it’s one of the biggest races of the season. You should come check it out. It’s a whole experience.”

She hesitated for a moment, trying to process the idea. “I mean, sure, why not? I could use a little break from the bakery chaos. But I’m warning you, I’ll probably get lost in the crowd or something.”

Oscar grinned, clearly pleased. “I’ve got you covered. You won’t get lost, I promise. Plus, I’ll introduce you to a few people, show you the ropes. It’ll be fun.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a little bit nervous but mostly excited. “Okay, okay. I’m in. This better be worth it though. I still don’t quite get why people are so obsessed with fast cars but... I’m trusting you on this one.”

Oscar laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it once you see it. It’s kind of... a big deal.”

Y/N chuckled along with him. “Alright, Mr. Big Deal. I’ll be there. Just try not to get too race car driver on me while I’m there, okay?”

Oscar flashed her a teasing grin. “No promises.”

grand prix weekend

As Y/N walked toward the spot where she and Oscar had agreed to meet, her eyes wandered over the bustling atmosphere of the Monaco Grand Prix. The crowds, the cameras, the fancy cars, and the buzz of excitement around every corner... it was a lot to take in. But then her gaze landed on something that made her stop in her tracks.

A massive banner stretched across the track, featuring none other than Oscar Piastri. His face was larger than life, his cool expression and trademark cap making him look effortlessly slick.

Y/N blinked twice, then rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. But there it was, Oscar in full glory, with the words "Oscar Piastri: Formula 1 Driver" plastered across the banner in bold letters. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt her stomach drop.

She stared at it, mouth slightly open, her brain short-circuiting as the pieces finally clicked together. “Wait… Oscar? Formula 1? That Oscar?” She repeated the words in her head like a mantra, trying to wrap her brain around it.

Her eyes darted from the banner to the people around her, and suddenly everything clicked in a dizzying rush:

Oscar Piastri... was a famous Formula 1 driver.

That meant—wait, no—that meant she had been casually baking cookies, banana muffins, and chocolate-covered strawberries for someone who was literally famous?! She had been living next door to a real-life celebrity and hadn’t even known it?? And… she was actually crushing on him?

Her mind was doing a full-on loop-de-loop. How had she missed this? How did she not realize that this guy who always wore cool clothes, who was constantly traveling, who had fans… was the same person she’d been baking for like it was no big deal? Was this… was this a dream?

She started internally panicking. What do I do now? She had been baking for a guy who was in the public eye—what did that even mean for them? Did she just like someone who everyone else liked too? Is that even a thing? Was she seriously living next door to someone who raced for real in Formula 1?! She was losing it.

At that moment, she felt like she might spontaneously combust from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Her stomach flipped, and she had to press a hand to her forehead, trying to keep it together. “Oh my god, Y/N. Get it together,” she whispered under her breath.

Just as she was trying to regain her composure, she spotted Oscar coming into view, looking effortlessly cool as usual, his sunglasses perched atop his head as he walked toward her. His face broke into a grin when he saw her.

“Hey, you okay?” Oscar asked, noticing the slightly shell-shocked look on her face. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Y/N blinked a few times, forcing herself to smile, but her mind was still reeling. She barely managed to get out a normal response. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little too high-pitched for her own liking. “Just… uh, just saw something… interesting.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, looking at her with mild curiosity. “Interesting? What did you see?”

Y/N panicked for a second. She couldn’t tell him she just discovered he was basically famous and was now spiraling over it, right? She gave herself a quick mental shake. “Uh, yeah, just, uh, a banner,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the giant image of him from earlier. “And, um… I just realized that… I, uh, live next to someone famous. Which is, like… wild.”

Oscar blinked, clearly not expecting that response. “Ohhh, yeah, that’s a thing. I mean, you’ve been living next to a race car driver. That’s gotta be weird, huh?”

Weird didn’t even begin to cover it, but Y/N just laughed, even though it sounded a little forced. “I guess? It’s just... a lot to process. You really are famous, huh?”

Oscar chuckled at her expression, clearly amused. “You could’ve asked, you know. But yeah, I guess I am,” he said casually, as if being on giant banners was just part of his daily routine.

Y/N groaned, feeling a rush of heat on her cheeks. “I feel like such an idiot,” she muttered, half to herself.

Oscar laughed, clearly oblivious to the full extent of her internal freakout. “Nah, you’re good. I’m just glad you’re here. Let’s enjoy this whole thing together.”

But Y/N could barely focus on anything except the fact that she had been baking for someone famous. This was too much.

As they continued toward the track, Y/N’s thoughts swirled in a thousand directions. She liked him, but now she had to figure out how to deal with the fact that she liked someone who was literally in the spotlight. Was it even okay to have a crush on someone who had so many eyes on him? She didn’t even know what to do with that knowledge yet.

And as they entered the paddock, Y/N had a feeling this weekend was going to be a lot more intense than she ever expected.

Y/N had barely been able to wrap her head around the fact that she was actually sitting in the heart of the action—inside Oscar’s team’s box in the garage, watching the practice and qualifying sessions unfold in front of her eyes.

Oscar had been in and out, prepping for his runs, chatting with the team, and making sure everything was in top condition. He had that natural, focused energy about him, and it was hard to look at him without being amazed by how effortlessly cool he was under pressure.

Y/N, on the other hand, was absolutely blown away by everything. The speed of the cars, the noise, the sheer intensity of it all—it was like nothing she had ever experienced. The walls of the garage were lined with equipment, the hum of activity filled the air, and people were buzzing about with headsets and clipboards, all focused on their roles. But even with all the chaos, Y/N's attention kept drifting back to Oscar.

“Don’t worry, I won’t crash,” he joked, noticing the look on her face as he grabbed his helmet and prepared to head out.

Y/N managed a nervous laugh, trying to calm the fluttering feeling in her chest. “You better not,” she teased, though she was pretty sure it was more for her own peace of mind than anything else.

Oscar shot her a grin before heading out to the car, and Y/N couldn’t help but watch with wide eyes as he slipped into the cockpit. The cars revved to life, the unmistakable sound of the engines vibrating through the garage. Oscar’s car was a blur as he took off down the track for his first practice lap.

She couldn’t help but feel a weird mix of awe and pride. That’s Oscar, she thought, barely able to keep her jaw from dropping. He was out there on the track, racing like it was second nature. The guy who had been chilling in her kitchen, eating cookies, was now doing something so epic, it didn’t even seem real.

As Oscar tore through the circuit, Y/N’s eyes stayed glued to the monitors in the box. His lap times popped up in front of her, and she felt a nervous, excited energy pulse through her. She didn’t know much about Formula 1, but she could feel the intensity of it all.

“Look at him go,” she muttered to herself, completely captivated by the raw speed and precision. It was like watching someone glide on air—only way faster, and way more intense.

The minutes flew by, and soon enough, Oscar’s car zipped back into the pits, and he jumped out, helmet off, a grin on his face. Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, her heart racing in sync with the adrenaline of the day.

“You’re amazing,” she said as he walked over, still catching his breath from the run.

Oscar gave a modest shrug, though the grin never left his face. “It’s all in the details,” he said with a wink. “But, yeah, it feels pretty good.”

Y/N shook her head, still processing how cool the whole thing was. “You’re insane,” she laughed, feeling a mix of admiration and a bit of disbelief at the whole experience.

Oscar leaned against the garage wall, looking at her. “You’ve got the best seat in the house, you know?”

She smiled, feeling her chest tighten at the compliment. “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m actually here. It’s… it’s all a bit much, honestly.”

Oscar chuckled. “Well, get used to it. You’ll be seeing a lot more of this.”

Y/N just nodded, still wide-eyed. There was so much she was still processing—how she’d gone from living next to a normal guy to sitting in a garage at the Monaco Grand Prix watching him race. It was wild. And somehow, incredibly thrilling.

Then, without any warning, Oscar took a small step closer to her. The next thing Y/N knew, his hand was on her cheek, pulling her into a kiss that was both unexpected and electric.

She froze for a split second, her eyes wide in shock. Her heart pounded in her ears. It was quick, but it was enough to send a wave of dizziness through her. The kiss was soft, lingering just a moment longer than she could’ve imagined, before Oscar pulled back with a mischievous smile.

Y/N stood there, stunned. Her heart was racing, and her mind was reeling. The cameras around the garage had caught the whole thing, and within seconds, a replay flashed across the monitors, broadcasting the moment live for all to see.

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly aware of the reaction. “Guess I’m full of surprises,” he teased, his voice low, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N blinked, still processing what just happened. Her cheeks were burning. “What the—”

But before Y/N could say anything else, Oscar's grin grew wider as he looked up at the screen. "Well, that's gonna be on TV now, huh?"

Y/N's eyes snapped to the monitors, and her stomach dropped. The kiss, clear as day, was playing across the screens for everyone to see. Her face turned beet red.

"Seriously?" Y/N muttered, still trying to process it. "That just... happened. On TV. Wow."

Oscar chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, that’s out there now. You good with that?”

Before Y/N could answer, she leaned in, surprising him with a kiss. It was quick but full of impulse, a way to make things feel less chaotic and more... real. When she pulled away, she didn’t flinch or apologize—she just gave him a small grin.

Oscar blinked in surprise for a moment, his lips curling into a grin. “Guess you weren’t planning on waiting, huh?”

Y/N shrugged casually, unfazed. “Guess not.”

Oscar let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving hers. “No going back now.”

Y/N shook her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Guess not."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey @alex-wotton @ssarqhxo @rainy-darling @mymilkshakefun @hs2016 @linnygirl09 @akulici

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x y/n #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #jzprncess #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 x y/n

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777bae · 20 hours ago

Text

ALL THE LITTLE MOMENTS JACK HUGHES

Summary :: You watch as Jack tenderly cares to your daughter’s every beck and call.

Warnings :: none

Word count :: 3.2k

You’re roused from sleep by the soft sound of little feet padding against the hardwood floor, the gentle creak of the bedroom door as it pushes open. The light streaming through the curtains is warm and golden, signaling that the day is just beginning. You stretch and turn over in bed to find Jack still asleep, his dark lashes resting against his cheeks and his breathing slow and steady. He looks peaceful, almost boyish, and you can’t help but smile. It’s rare to have a morning like this—no early practices, no flights to catch, just the three of you. These moments are your most cherished, the ones you hold closest to your heart.

Before you can savor the quiet any longer, your attention is drawn to the tiny figure standing by the bed. It’s your three-year-old daughter, her tousled curls wild and free, her big, bright eyes filled with excitement. She’s holding her favorite stuffed animal—a worn, floppy bunny Jack had bought her during a road trip to Boston last year.

“Mama,” she whispers, her voice soft but insistent, as though she’s worried about waking Jack. “Is Daddy awake yet?”

You smile and shake your head, reaching out to gently beckon her closer. She climbs onto the bed, her small hands gripping your arm as she snuggles into your side. Her presence is warm and familiar, her curls tickling your cheek as she leans against you.

“Let’s let him sleep a little longer, sweetheart,” you whisper, stroking her hair gently. She nods solemnly, but the glint of mischief in her eyes tells you she has other plans.

It takes only a minute before her patience wears thin. She wriggles free from your grasp, crawling over to Jack’s side of the bed. With the determination only a three-year-old can muster, she pokes his cheek softly at first, then a little harder.

“Daddy,” she whispers, her voice rising to an excited squeal. “Wake up! It’s morning!”

Jack groans dramatically, keeping his eyes closed as though he’s still deeply asleep. You can tell he’s fighting a smile, his lips twitching slightly. His hand shifts under the covers, reaching out to “catch” her as she pokes him again.

“Daddy!” she insists, climbing fully onto his chest now. “You promised pancakes!”

That does it. His eyes flutter open, and he looks up at her with a playful grin, his arms wrapping around her tiny frame to pull her closer. “I did, huh?” he asks, his voice gravelly from sleep. “I don’t remember making any promises…”

“Yes, you did!” she says, her curls bouncing as she nods emphatically. “You said pancakes today! With syrup!”

Jack glances over at you, his expression softening as your eyes meet. He reaches out to squeeze your hand, his thumb brushing against your skin. “What do you think, babe? Pancakes? Or should we just stay in bed all morning?”

You laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone. “You better get up before she starts bouncing on you. I’m not responsible for any injuries.”

Jack chuckles, sitting up and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Alright, pancakes it is,” he declares, hoisting your giggling daughter onto his shoulders as he climbs out of bed. He looks back at you with a lopsided smile, his eyes full of warmth. “Come on, Mama. Let’s make this a family effort.”

The kitchen is soon filled with the sounds of laughter, clattering bowls, and your daughter’s delighted squeals. Jack moves around the space with a relaxed confidence, his hands deftly gathering ingredients while your daughter “helps” from her spot on the counter. She’s wearing her favorite apron—a miniature version of the one Jack wears when he cooks, complete with a little hockey puck design embroidered on the front.

“Alright, chef,” Jack says, handing her a small whisk and a bowl of flour. “Mix this up for me. We need the best pancake batter ever.”

Your daughter takes her job very seriously, her tongue poking out in concentration as she stirs. The bowl is almost comically large compared to her tiny hands, but she handles it with determination.

“Careful, don’t spill,” Jack warns, leaning in to steady the bowl. His free hand brushes against yours as he does, and he pauses for a moment, turning to you with a soft smile. “Thanks for letting me do this,” he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I know I’m gone a lot… I just want her to have these memories.”

You place your hand over his, squeezing gently. “You’re here now,” you say, your voice equally soft. “And that’s what matters.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, before your daughter’s excited voice pulls him back to the task at hand.

“Daddy! Can I crack the eggs?” she asks, her wide eyes full of anticipation.

Jack glances at you, silently asking for permission. You nod, and he carefully hands her an egg. “Okay,” he says, crouching slightly to meet her eye level. “But I’m going to help you, alright? No shells in the batter.”

Together, they crack the egg, and your daughter’s face lights up with pride when the yolk slides cleanly into the bowl. “I did it!” she exclaims, looking up at Jack with a grin.

“You sure did, kiddo,” he says, ruffling her hair. “You’re a pro.”

You lean against the counter, sipping your coffee and watching the two of them. Jack’s gentle patience, the way he encourages her and laughs at her little jokes—it all makes your heart swell. He’s not just a good father; he’s an exceptional one. And he’s your partner, your love, your everything.

The rest of the morning passes in a joyful blur of giggles, sticky syrup, and playful banter, and soon the three of you find yourselves outside, soaking in the crisp autumn air. The breeze carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the distant hum of neighbors raking their yards. Your backyard is alive with the vibrant colors of the season—deep reds, golden yellows, and burnt oranges scattered in piles, creating a picturesque backdrop for the day’s adventures.

Your daughter darts toward the largest pile of leaves, her tiny legs moving with excitement as she shrieks, “Watch me, Mama! Watch me, Daddy!” She leaps into the pile, sending a cascade of leaves flying into the air, her laughter ringing out as the colorful flurry falls back down around her like confetti. Jack chuckles beside you, shaking his head as he takes in the sight. “She’s fearless,” he says with pride, his lips curling into a soft smile.

“She gets that from you,” you tease, nudging him gently with your elbow. Jack grins, but before he can respond, your daughter grabs two fistfuls of leaves and tosses them into the air again, her curls bouncing as she twirls beneath them. The sheer joy on her face makes your heart swell.

Jack sits beside you on the porch steps, his arm draping naturally around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his body cuts through the chill of the air, and for a moment, everything feels perfectly still, like the world beyond your yard has paused just for you. Jack presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for just a beat longer than usual. His tenderness is so effortless, so genuine, that it makes you fall in love with him all over again.

“She’s so happy,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with awe. You turn to look at him and see the softness in his eyes, the way they follow your daughter as she plays. “I can’t believe we made her,” he says, almost to himself, as though the thought still amazes him.

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “She’s perfect,” you say softly, your gaze fixed on your daughter as she collapses into the pile of leaves with a fit of giggles. “Just like her dad.”

Jack laughs under his breath, a sound that’s warm and familiar, and his hand moves to rest on your thigh. He squeezes it gently, a small but meaningful gesture that sends a flutter through your chest. “I don’t know about perfect,” he says with a playful lilt, glancing down at you. “But I’m trying.”

You tilt your head to look at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t even have to try,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re amazing.”

Before Jack can respond, your daughter’s voice interrupts, loud and full of energy. “Daddy! Chase me!” she calls, standing at the edge of the yard with her arms outstretched. “You have to catch me!”

Jack stands, rolling his shoulders dramatically like he’s preparing for a big game. “Oh, you’re in trouble now,” he says, his tone light and teasing as he takes a step toward her. She squeals with delight, spinning on her heel and taking off as fast as her little legs will carry her.

Jack takes off after her, his long strides making it easy for him to catch up, but he lets her think she’s outsmarting him. She zigzags behind trees, dives into piles of leaves, and shrieks with laughter as Jack pretends to just miss her, his hands swiping at the air.

“You’re too fast!” he calls, feigning exhaustion as he slows his pace. “I don’t know if I can catch you!”

She giggles, glancing over her shoulder to see how close he is. “You’ll never get me, Daddy!” she taunts, her voice full of glee.

Finally, Jack picks up speed, closing the gap between them in an instant. He scoops her up into his arms, spinning her high into the air as she lets out a delighted scream. Her laughter is infectious, and you can’t help but join in, clapping your hands together as you watch the scene unfold.

Jack holds her above his head for a moment, her tiny arms outstretched as if she’s flying. “Gotcha!” he says triumphantly, bringing her back down and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She wraps her arms around his neck, still laughing, her head resting against his shoulder.

From your spot on the porch, your heart feels like it might burst. You can see how much he loves her in every gesture, every laugh, every moment of attention he gives her. And you can see how much she adores him, how her little face lights up every time he’s near.

Jack walks back toward you, your daughter still clinging to him, her curls damp with sweat from all the running. He sets her down on the porch steps, brushing a few stray leaves from her hair. “Did I do a good job, Mama?” she asks, looking up at you with wide, eager eyes.

“You did an amazing job, sweetheart,” you say, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “And so did Daddy.”

Jack sits down beside you again, pulling you close as your daughter nestles into his side. You glance over at him, his face flushed from running and his smile soft and genuine.

He catches your eye and leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s sweet and lingering. “I love you,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours for a moment.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice steady even as your heart races.

As the day winds down, the warm glow of the living room lamps casts a soft light over the space. The three of you are nestled together on the couch, wrapped in a large, fluffy blanket that smells faintly of fabric softener and home. The quiet hum of an animated movie fills the room, but the real focus is on the way your daughter is snuggled up between you and Jack, her small body pressed tightly against his side. Her head rests on his chest, rising and falling gently with his every breath as her tiny hands clutch her well-loved stuffed bunny.

Jack’s arm is draped securely around your shoulders, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along your skin. It’s a gesture that feels like second nature to him now, an expression of love so subtle yet so deeply comforting. You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faintest trace of maple syrup from breakfast lingering in the air.

Your daughter’s eyelids droop, her determined effort to stay awake slowly giving way to the pull of sleep. She shifts slightly, curling deeper into Jack’s chest as a soft, contented sigh escapes her lips. Jack tilts his head to look down at her, his expression filled with quiet awe.

“She’s almost out,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. You glance up at him and see the tenderness in his eyes, the way they soften as he watches her. There’s something about the sight of Jack as a dad that makes your chest tighten with love. You reach out to smooth a curl from your daughter’s forehead, and Jack’s free hand covers yours for a moment, his fingers warm and steady against your skin.

By the time the movie ends, your daughter is fully asleep, her soft breathing the only sound in the now-quiet room. Jack carefully shifts, his movements slow and deliberate as he gently gathers her into his arms. She stirs only slightly, her tiny fists curling into the front of his shirt before she settles again, her head tucked under his chin.

You follow Jack upstairs, your steps light as you trail behind him. The hallway is dim, the only illumination coming from the faint glow of the nightlight in your daughter’s room. Jack moves with practiced ease, cradling her close as though she weighs nothing at all. When he reaches her bed, he kneels carefully, lowering her onto the soft mattress with a gentleness that makes your heart ache.

He tucks her in with a precision that comes from years of practice, smoothing the blankets over her tiny frame and making sure her bunny is nestled beside her. She looks so peaceful, her features soft and angelic in the dim light. Jack crouches beside her, his hand brushing a stray curl from her face as he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice filled with love. “I love you.”

Your daughter stirs slightly, her lips forming a sleepy smile as she murmurs, “I love you too, Daddy,” her words so quiet they’re barely audible.

Jack stays there for a moment longer, his expression tender and unguarded as he watches her. His thumb lightly brushes over her cheek, and you can see the depth of his love for her in that small, simple gesture. It’s a look you’ll never forget, one that reminds you of just how much Jack treasures being her dad.

Later that night, the house is wrapped in a comfortable hush, the kind of silence that comes only after a day well spent. The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathes your bedroom in a golden light, casting faint shadows on the walls as you settle into bed beside Jack. The warmth of the blankets and the steady hum of his breathing create a cocoon of safety, a quiet space where the rest of the world feels far away.

Jack shifts closer to you, pulling you into his arms with an ease that speaks to how natural it feels for him to hold you. His embrace is strong yet gentle, his hands warm as they press against your back, pulling you tightly against his chest. He leans down, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. The kiss lingers, a tender gesture that feels like a silent promise, one filled with gratitude, love, and unspoken devotion.

When his lips find yours, the kiss is slow and deliberate. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a pure expression of love. He cradles your face with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheek as though he’s savoring every second. The way he kisses you reminds you of every reason you fell in love with him—the tenderness, the care, the quiet passion that never falters.

As he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours. His breath is warm, his voice soft and laced with emotion as he finally breaks the silence. “She’s getting so big,” he says, his words filled with both pride and a bittersweet wistfulness. “I feel like she was just a baby yesterday. I blinked, and now… she’s running around, making jokes, cracking eggs for pancakes.”

His words make you smile, though a small ache settles in your chest at the truth of them. You lift your hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I know,” you whisper, your voice just as soft. “But she’s still your little girl. She always will be, no matter how big she gets.”

Jack tightens his hold on you at your words, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go. He buries his face briefly in your hair, inhaling deeply, as though he’s trying to commit this moment to memory. His hand begins to trace slow, soothing circles along your back, the repetitive motion calming and reassuring.

“I wouldn’t be half the dad I am without you,” he says, his voice low but earnest. “You make all of this possible, you know that? You’ve given me everything—her, this life, all of it. I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

The raw sincerity in his tone makes your throat tighten, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away. There’s so much love there, so much gratitude, that you can feel it radiating from him without him needing to say another word.

“Jack,” you say softly, your voice trembling slightly as you try to hold back your emotions. “You’re an amazing dad. She’s so lucky to have you… we both are.” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over his jawline as you smile through the tears threatening to spill over. “You don’t even realize how much you mean to us.”

He shakes his head lightly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leans in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is deeper, full of emotion that words could never fully convey. His lips are warm and tender, and when he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours again, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you.

“No,” he says quietly, his voice steady and sure. “I’m the lucky one.”

The way he says it, the way his eyes stay locked on yours, makes your chest tighten. You don’t argue with him, because in this moment, you both know the truth: the life you’ve built together, the family you’ve created, is a gift you’ve given each other.

As Jack pulls you closer, tucking you against his chest, his hand continues its slow, soothing rhythm along your back. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and it lulls you into a peaceful state.

As you drift off to sleep in his arms, your heart full of love and gratitude, you know with absolute certainty that he’s right. You’re all lucky—to have each other, to share this life, to be a family.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl x you #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jh86 #jh86 x reader #new jersey devils #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils x reader #hughes imagine #hughes x reader

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servndipityz · 2 days ago

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namgyu with alternative reader? perchance.. smut🫶🫶😁

a/n ── i'm so nervous about this one! i hope i didn't do a terrible job on portraying alt culture (i know nothing about it). i kinda tried to make it not super specific so anyone can feel identified. again, sorry if it's lowkey bad. it's also my first time writing smut, believe it or not, but i've had years of experience reading it so i don't think it's that bad. enjoy :)

STRIPPED

warnings ── smut, +18 MDNI!!! porn w plot. drug usage, sex under the influence, sex in a club, fingering, orgasm denial, degradation, light choking, kinda brat taming? p in v, unprotected sex, creampie.

word count ── 4.6k

he'd ended up there. of course, he'd ended up there. only someone as unlucky as him could wind up at some fucking goth party. or punk. or… whatever. he didn't really care about the whole thing—the dramatic makeup, the dyed hair, the incredibly loud music blaring through the club. none of it.

nam-gyu had envisioned a chill night on his free day, but no. of course, his co-worker had to get sick. of course, nam-gyu owed him money for the pills he'd given him last week. of course, he had to cover for him that night.

and, of course, it was alternative night at club pentagon. usually, his co-worker handled these kinds of nights—special events, themed parties, all that.

what did nam-gyu know about alternative culture anyway? he wondered the same thing as he weaved through the crowd, making sure everyone was having a good time, keeping an eye on bar sales.

so far, he'd been stepped on twice—not too bad, except when it came from one of those platform boots everyone seemed to be wearing. those hurt like hell. but at least the night was going smoothly. for now.

so good, in fact, that nam-gyu figured it was time for a drink. he'd been working for hours, making sure this party ran smoothly. he owed that co-worker a lot of drug money, and this was the only way to settle it. it’s not like he’d ever do this out of the kindness of his heart.

he made his way to the nearest counter, resting his elbows on the cool marble as he waited for someone to take his order. he couldn't help but wonder how anyone could actually dance to this loud-ass english music that sounded more like screaming. he'd take the regular techno dj any day.

meanwhile, you finished pouring a vodka red bull and handed it off to yet another customer. that's when you noticed him.

he stood out—not in a good way.

hunched over the counter, inspecting it like he might find some cocaine stuck in it (which, honestly, he probably would if he looked hard enough), looking like a wet rat. his clothes gave him away. who even let him in like that? plain black shirt, black jeans, a couple of rings.

he looked up as you approached.

his first thought was that your leather top made your tits poke out. his second was that, without all that emo makeup, you'd actually be pretty cute.

his third was what the highest-alcohol-content drink he could order was.

he opened his mouth to ask, eyes flicking to the bottles behind you—

but you spoke first.

"you're ruining the vibe, man."

he frowned, caught off guard.

you just raised an eyebrow, speaking over the loud music. "i said, you're ruining the vibe."

"i'm not doing anything," he scoffed, annoyed. he just wanted to order his damn drink. last thing he needed was some lecture.

"exactly," you said. "you don't belong here. what are you even doing?"

not like you actually cared. you were here to do your job, bartend, make money, go home. but this guy—standing there, stiff shoulders, sharp jawline, judging everything and everyone, probably without even realizing it—looking at you like that, eyes dragging over you like you were some kind of curiosity—

yeah. he rubbed you the wrong way.

being alternative, you already got judged enough. the last thing you needed was someone doing it at an alternative party.

he frowned even further. "i'm here to work. not that it's any of your business."

that caught you off guard for a second. "you work here?" your head tilted, curiosity slipping into your tone. you leaned over the counter, the neckline of your top shifting just a little lower. who knew—if this guy was someone important, you had to use all your charms. especially after being so rude. "i've never seen you around, and i always bartender at these kinds of parties."

his gaze flickered down your cleavage before snapping back to your eyes. but you saw it. the way his jaw clenched, the way he suddenly looked more annoyed than before—like he was mad at himself for looking.

"i'm not thrilled either," he mumbled, clearly uninterested in conversation. "just covering for a friend. now, could you actually do your job and get me something to drink?"

you bristled at his tone, raising a brow as you turned to the shelves of bottles. "jeez, someone's grumpy. what can i get you?"

in reality, nam-gyu wasn't grumpy. well, he was, but that was just how he was. it was just... for some reason, you made him nervous. the girls he usually dealt with at clubs were boring bitches trying to get a VIP card or whatever drugs he had in his pocket.

you were the opposite. rude. annoying. and he didn’t like that. but for some reason, it made his blood rush somewhere else, clouding his brain.

"just give me a shot," he said after a pause. "something strong."

you turned your head slightly, a smile playing on your lips—the kind that sent a shiver down his spine. you walked back to the counter, reaching for a bottle hidden underneath.

"drinking on the job?" you asked while pouring the liquid into a shot glass, then casually grabbing a second one.

nam-gyu let out a short, amused huff. if drinking was the worst thing he’d done on the job, he’d be in a much better place. but he watched curiously as you poured the second shot, his eyes flicking up through his lashes, brow slightly raised.

"what?" you asked playfully. "if you’re doing it, so can i."

you finally set the bottle back and raised your glass. he mirrored you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something in his expression—almost a smile. you entertained him.

"cheers," you said, clinking your glass against his before downing the shot in one go. he followed suit, setting the glass back on the counter, suppressing a grimace at the sharp burn of alcohol.

“so,” you said, clearing your throat slightly after the shot. “who’s the friend you’re covering for?”

nam-gyu said the name, and your eyes widened.

“that junkie, huh?” you smirked. he chuckled. “yeah, i know him. he’s a little more talkative than you, though.”

nam-gyu narrowed his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing. it’s okay to be shy.” your voice was innocent, teasing, calculated. you'd decided that you'd had enough, that you might as well have some fun. “anyway, my shift’s almost over. wanna get out of here?”

“i’m not shy.” he sounded offended, then glanced away, considering your offer. “and i told you, i’m working.”

you huffed. “fine. just needed someone to smoke this with." you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a tiny zip-lock bag filled with greens. "guess i'll have to find somebody else."

now that caught his attention. maybe almost as much as your exposed skin did. suddenly, he was interested. but also suspicious.

“what do you have?” he asked, leaning slightly over the counter, his voice lower, more serious.

“your junkie friend gave it to me for a gig i did. said it’s good shit.” you shrugged, playing it cool, acting uninterested—like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. and he took the bait.

“why would you wanna share it with me?” he still sounded wary, but there was something else in his tone now. curiosity. maybe even something close to interest.

you groaned dramatically. “look, i’m heading to the staff room. you coming or not?” you said, already turning away, signaling to your co-worker that your shift was over.

now, nam-gyu didn’t need weed. not exactly. he could probably find ten of those zip-lock bags hidden in his place, forgotten in favor of other, harder drugs. but he also wasn’t the kind of guy to say no to free drugs.

especially not from such a petty girl.

you grinned to yourself as you felt him rush to walk behind you, trailing after you through the club like he didn’t know the way like the back of his hand.

as you reached the hallway leading to the staff room, nam-gyu couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on your half-ripped fishnets, the way they framed your legs under that short black skirt. was he here for the weed or for you? he wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t care much.

you finally reached the door, slipping past a few couples too caught up in each other to notice, and he shut it behind him. the staff room was small, dingy, and reeked of bleach and cigarette smoke, but you still sank onto the worn-out sofa next to the table like it was the most comfortable place in the world.

you leaned back, stretching your legs out just enough for your skirt to ride up slightly. not too much—just enough to make him notice. and he did.

nam-gyu stood near the door for a second, like he was reconsidering this, before scoffing to himself and dropping onto the couch beside you. he was close, not touching, but enough that the warmth of him was noticeable. enough that when he exhaled, you could feel the faintest brush of his breath against your shoulder.

"roll it," he said, nodding at the bag in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. "you're really bad at asking nicely, huh?"

he just looked at you, serious. "you’re really bad at shutting up."

that made you laugh. he was watching you now—really watching you—as you pulled out the papers, fingers working effortlessly, licking the edge just to see his reaction. you weren’t disappointed. his jaw flexed again, his eyes dark, tracking your every move like he was trying to pretend he didn’t care. like he wasn’t already leaning back, manspreading, trying to act like he had the upper hand here.

cute.

you tucked the blunt between your lips, lighting it, taking a slow drag before passing it to him.

nam-gyu hesitated, just for a split second, then took it, bringing it to his mouth. his fingers brushed yours in the handoff, and it was stupid how that tiny touch sent something sharp down your spine. or maybe it was just the way he inhaled, head tilting back, exposing the sharp line of his throat as he exhaled, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

you licked yours.

the weed hit, slow and warm. the music outside was muffled, the sounds of the party fading into the background, leaving only this—dim lighting, the scent of smoke and alcohol and something else, something charged.

"you always do this?" nam-gyu asked after a beat, voice lower, lazier. "lure random guys into the staff room for a smoke?"

you smirked, tilting your head. "only the rude ones."

he huffed, shaking his head, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile. he passed the blunt back, his fingers lingering just a second longer this time. you let them.

the room felt smaller. warmer.

"you always this uptight?" you asked, taking another slow hit. "or just with me?"

nam-gyu let his head roll against the back of the couch, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. "you always this annoying? or just with me?"

you exhaled smoke, letting it curl between you. "you like it."

he didn’t answer. but he also didn’t look away.

you were both leaning back now, legs almost brushing, breaths slow and measured like you were both pretending not to notice the heat building between you.

nam-gyu wet his lips, head still resting against the couch, eyes flicking to your mouth before he caught himself and looked away. like it was a habit. like he was trying so fucking hard not to slip.

you took one last hit before stubbing out the blunt in the ashtray beside you. then, shifting slightly, you turned toward him, letting your knee press against his thigh. deliberate. slow. testing.

"you're staring," you murmured.

he scoffed, but it came out weaker than he probably meant. his hands clenched into fists on his thighs like he was keeping himself still on purpose.

"you’re high," he muttered, looking away.

"so are you." you tilted your head, voice dropping, playing with the edge of your ripped fishnets like you weren’t watching the way his gaze followed the movement of your fingers. "and what, does that mean i can’t see the way you’ve been looking at me all night?"

nam-gyu exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "i haven’t been—"

"you have," you cut in smoothly, shifting closer, feeling the warmth of his body now, solid and tense. "you’re mad about it. i can tell."

his jaw clenched.

"tell me," you purred. "are you mad because you don’t like it? or mad because you do?"

his fingers twitched on his thigh. his breathing was heavier, controlled, like he was still fighting it. fighting you.

so you leaned in, lips just close enough to ghost over his ear. "it’s okay," you whispered. "you can touch me."

and that was it.

nam-gyu moved so fast you barely had time to smirk before he grabbed you by the back of the neck, his lips crashing into yours, hot and desperate, all teeth and pent-up frustration. his other hand found your waist, yanking you onto his lap, and fuck—he wasn’t holding back anymore.

he was done fighting it.

and so were you.

his lips were all heat, all pressure—nothing hesitant, nothing soft. you barely had a second to adjust before his teeth caught your bottom lip, his fingers gripping the nape of your neck like he wanted to own you. his other hand, firm on your waist, yanked you flush against him, and fuck—he was hard.

not that he acknowledged it. not that he’d ever admit that you’d done this to him.

your knees bracketed his hips as you settled onto his lap, rolling your hips down just enough to feel him. his grip tightened, nails digging into the meat of your waist. he hissed against your mouth—half warning, half surrender.

“you don’t play fair,” he muttered, lips grazing your jaw now, teeth scraping skin, testing.

your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt. “neither do you.”

his hands dropped—one to your thigh, sliding under your skirt, fisting in the torn mesh of your fishnets. the other traced the curve of your ass before shoving you down against him again, this time deliberate, a slow grind that made both of you exhale sharp.

his breath was uneven, warm against your throat. “you think i haven’t noticed?” his fingers curled, gripping tight enough to bruise. “the way you’ve been—” a sharp pull at the fishnets, a rip, cool air hitting skin—“fucking teasing me?”

you laughed, half-gasping when his tongue flicked against the pulse at your neck.

his fingers dipped, pressing against the damp heat of your panties, no patience, no hesitation. his other hand was now tangled in your hair, keeping you locked right where he wanted—breath hitching as he rubbed slow, teasing.

then his hand moved, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, warm against your skin, sliding between your thighs. the first touch was barely there, just a single fingertip running along your slit, slow, teasing.

you squirmed, but he didn’t let you go. “look at you,” he murmured, mocking, the pad of his finger dragging over your cunt, pressing just enough to make you shudder. “all that attitude, but you’re already—” he exhaled sharply, felt it before he even had to say it—so fucking wet.

"fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his forehead resting against yours for a second like he was trying to collect himself. but his fingers were still moving, sliding along the slickness of you, testing, exploring, spreading it just enough to make you squirm.

"yeah?" you murmured, voice breathy, teasing. "you like that?"

his only response was a low, quiet curse under his breath before he pressed his fingers in deeper, the tips just barely pushing inside before pulling back, slow and torturous. he was watching you now, eyes dark and half-lidded.

and then, without warning, he slid one finger in, slow but firm, curling just enough to make your breath catch. your nails dug into his shoulders, and his other hand tightened on your hip, holding you steady.

"fuck," you whispered, rolling your hips into his touch, chasing it, needing more.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug, and then he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more, fucking you slow and deep with just his hand. the angle was perfect, his fingers pressing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl, made your breath come faster, needier.

"you’re so fucking tight," he murmured, more fascinated than anything, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you, the way you clenched around them. he twisted his wrist slightly, his palm pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his fingers, setting a rhythm that had you grinding against him, chasing that pressure.

your moan was quiet but desperate, and he smirked, eyes flicking up to yours.

"you always this easy?" he murmured, his voice taunting, dark.

you opened your mouth to snap something back, but then he crooked his fingers just right, pressing deeper, and your words dissolved into a gasp, your head tipping back. his lips were on your throat a second later, sucking, biting, leaving marks you’d have to cover up later.

his pace picked up, fucking you harder with just his fingers, each drag of his palm against your clit sending another sharp wave of heat curling low in your stomach. the room was quiet except for the sound of your breathy moans, his heavier breathing, the slick sounds of his fingers working you open.

"you gonna come?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough now, strained.

you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. "fuck—don’t stop," you breathed.

nam-gyu felt it—felt the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook against his hips, the way you were right there, so fucking close. he could see it too, in the way your mouth parted, in the soft, breathy little gasps escaping your lips, the ones you were trying to swallow back like you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

but he wasn’t that generous.

just when you thought he’d let you tip over, when your body clenched down around his fingers so tight he could barely move them, he pulled away.

just—gone.

the sudden loss was so sharp, so fucking unfair, that you let out a frustrated, needy little whine before you could stop yourself, your hips rolling forward, chasing after the feeling, after his hand, anything. but nam-gyu just sat back, bringing his wet fingers up to his lips, slipping them into his mouth with a slow, deliberate hum.

"mm," he mused, tongue flicking over them, eyes locked on yours. "not bad."

"are you fucking kidding me?" you were panting, legs still shaking where you straddled him, your body on fire, needing more, needing anything. your eyes flashed, your hands curling into fists against his chest like you were two seconds away from either punching him or ripping his shirt off.

he just smirked. "what?"

"you—" you gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "you’re such a fucking asshole."

nam-gyu chuckled, low and lazy, his hands dragging up your thighs again, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just to remind you he still had you exactly where he wanted you. "maybe, but you're still here," he murmured. "still dripping for me."

"yeah, because you didn’t let me cum, you dick," you snapped, rocking forward again, grinding against him, feeling the hard, thick press of him through his pants. he was just as worked up as you were, and you could tell—he was trying to play it cool, but his breathing was heavier, his fingers twitching against your skin like he was barely holding himself back.

that made you smirk. "ohhh," you taunted, rolling your hips again, slower this time, watching his jaw clench. "that’s why, huh? you’re hard as fuck and don’t wanna finish before i do."

his eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips. "watch your fucking mouth."

"or what?" you leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin. "you gonna do something about it?"

that was it.

one second you were teasing him, playing your little game, and the next you were flat on your back, your spine pressing into the shitty, worn-out couch, his body caging you in. his hand was already shoving your skirt up, fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your thighs, not even bothering to be careful.

"you talk too much," he muttered, voice rough, breath hot against your jaw.

"and you do too little," you shot back, just to push him, just to make him snap again.

it worked.

his hand was on your throat, not squeezing, just there, just pressing, just reminding you that he could if he wanted to. his other hand yanked at his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he undid his pants, as he shoved them down just enough to free himself.

fuck.

you’d felt it before, pressing against you, teasing, but now you saw it. thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, the kind of length that made your thighs press together instinctively, made you bite your lip even as you refused to let him see you flustered.

nam-gyu saw it anyway.

"knew you wanted it," he muttered, running the head of his cock along your slit, dragging it slow through your wetness. "acting like a brat, but your pussy’s already begging."

"shut the fuck up and—"

he pushed in, just an inch, just enough to make you gasp, make your nails dig into his arms.

"yeah?" he exhaled sharply, his jaw tight, like he was already holding himself back. "that what you wanted?"

you barely had time to adjust before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep, stretching you in one slow stroke that left your back arching, your head tipping back against the couch.

"fuck—"

nam-gyu groaned, low and almost desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as he bottomed out, as he let you feel every fucking inch of him.

"you feel that?" he murmured, breath ragged, his hips rolling just a little, just enough to make you whimper. "how tight you are? how you’re fucking squeezing me?"

you couldn’t answer. you couldn’t think. all you could do was feel—the way he filled you, the way he stretched you, the way he stayed there for a second, teasing, waiting, making you want it more.

you swallowed, trying to catch your breath. "you gonna move, or you just like teasing your own dick?"

his laugh was low. then he pulled back and slammed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

"fuck—"

your back was pressed against the couch, legs spread wide, thighs trembling as he held you open. his body caged yours beneath him, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip, keeping you still as he drove into you with rough, unforgiving thrusts. his cock filled you completely—thick, hot, deep—dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp with each desperate slap of his hips against yours.

"you gonna be good now?" his voice was low, ragged, dark with amusement. his grip tightened, fingers digging bruises into your skin. "or you still wanna run your mouth?"

you tried. you really did. you opened your lips to snap something back—something mean, something cutting, something to remind him you weren’t easy to break.

but all that came out was a choked moan as he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"that’s what i thought," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, his mouth just barely brushing yours, teasing. "bratty little thing—talking shit. but look at you now."

his hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you in place. not squeezing. just controlling. just owning. his other hand slipped between your bodies, two fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the swollen bud.

"fuck," you gasped, your hips rolling up instinctively, chasing that pressure, that friction.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug. "yeah? you like that?"

you wanted to tell him to fuck off. you really did.

but then he twisted his fingers just right, his cock hitting that spot inside you at the same time, and your body jerked, your moan breaking into something desperate.

"that’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw, his pace still brutal, relentless. "don’t fight it. you wanna cum, don’t you?"

"yes—yeah," you panted, nails scraping against his wrist where he held your throat.

he pulled back suddenly, dragging his cock out until only the tip remained, making you whimper at the loss. his fingers abandoned your clit, and before you could protest, he did something worse—something filthier.

he spat.

the wet warmth of it landed directly on your pussy, slick and obscene. your whole body jolted.

"fuck—" your breath stuttered, your back arching as heat shot through you.

nam-gyu groaned at the sight, at the way you clenched, the way your body reacted so instantly, so helplessly.

"you like that, huh?" his voice was thick with satisfaction, his fingers dragging through the mess, smearing it over you, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles.

you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t.

but the heat in your stomach coiled even tighter.

"say it," he ordered, his voice rough, his cock pushing back inside you, stretching you open again, slow and deep, making you feel every inch. "tell me you fucking love it."

your pride cracked. your body betrayed you.

"fuck—i love it," you gasped.

nam-gyu groaned, his breath hitching, his pace quickening. "good girl."

and then his fingers returned, rubbing messy circles over your spit-slicked clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, pushing you higher, harder—

you were already close. too close.

"fuck—fuck, i’m gonna cum," you choked out, hips jerking against his hand, against his cock, chasing it. "please—please don’t stop—"

and this time he didn’t.

he fucked you through it, his fingers never letting up, his pace relentless, driving you higher, harder, until it finally snapped—

your orgasm hit like a fucking wrecking ball.

your body clenched down on him so tight he cursed under his breath, his rhythm faltering for the first time. the pleasure crashed over you, your whole body shaking as you moaned through it, loud and wrecked, the sound swallowed by the shitty little staff room.

"fuck—fuck, yeah, that’s it," nam-gyu groaned, his grip on your hips bruising now, his thrusts rough and desperate as he chased his own release. "god, you feel so fucking good—"

he buried himself deep, his breath stuttering, his cock twitching inside you, and then he was coming, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he groaned low into your skin.

for a second, all you could hear was the ragged sound of your breathing, the quiet hum of the party outside, the distant bass thudding through the walls.

nam-gyu exhaled, slow and shaky, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your waist, still holding you, still pressed against you.

then he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum spilling out of you, dripping between your thighs.

he smirked, dragging a lazy finger through it before pressing it against your lips.

"open," he murmured.

you did.

and fuck, the look in his eyes when you sucked it clean—

you were so fucked.

#nam gyu #player 124 #squid game smut #namgyu x reader #namgyu smut #player 124 x reader #player 124 smut #my inbox #MDNI

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organic-bloodbath · 1 day ago

Text

Mingle - Part 2

Thanos x Reader

Summary: Thanos wants to protect you at all cost and has to choose whether to continue the game or take you back home. Getting to know you better, the answer is simple.

A/N: More angsty than the first part and doesn't follow the show's plot anymore. Thank you so much for all the likes on the first part, i didn't imagine it getting so many notes 🫶🏻 I wasn't sure which way to take this story, but he's 100% obsessed and in love with her.

☆☆☆

You were holding your tray, about to go to your usual spot to eat with your team and following Dae-ho in front of you but you stopped. You looked over Thanos, seeing him by himself.

"I'll see you later," you said to Dae-ho who looked confused. "I'll go sit with Thanos tonight."

"Thanos?" Dae-ho repeated, making sure he heard you correctly. "Why would you-"

You turned around and left, not wanting to answer to any other questions Dae-ho would ask you about your sudden interest to spend time with Thanos. Mostly, because you didn't know what to say.

Why? Because he just saved you a moment ago? You weren't sure if that was the only reason or not, you had to go over to him and figure it out yourself.

When you arrived to the bunk where Thanos was sitting and already eating his food, his eyes lit up.

"Is the invite still open?" you asked awkwardly, afraid that he had been only joking earlier about asking you to join him.

"For you, of course," he said, smiling, and pat the empty space next to him on the mattress. "I saved a seat for you."

You gave him a little smile and sat on that specific spot.

"For a second i thought you had changed your mind," he said, chewing his food.

"Oh, well, i wasn't sure if you truly meant it," you admitted, avoiding his eyes at first. "But then i saw you sitting alone. Why aren't you with your friends anyway?"

"I figured you'd just get uncomfortable with them," he shrugged. "And i wanted to be alone with you, even if just for a moment."

You felt your cheeks turning red. "Why?"

He gently put his hand on your chin and turned your head to look at him.

"I want go get to know you better, pretty flower," he smiled, making you turn even more red and you immediately turned your head away, the nickname making you feel funny inside once again.

"Oh," was the only sound you managed to breathe out.

"You know, from the day one i've tried to approach you but you've been ignoring me quite well," he pointed out. "You could add it on your resume as one of your skills."

"Oh, i mean," you said nervously. "I'm not used to guys trying to get close to me before, so i really didn't think much of it."

"Not used to it?" Thanos asked, acting dramatic and overly shocked, putting his hand against his chest and not believing what he was hearing. "You're that gorgeous and guys haven't gone after you? You're lying."

"Stop it," you chuckled and the smile lingered on your lips longer than before. "Maybe i just can't take a hint very easily."

"Well, tell me something about you?" Thanos asked and thought about something for a while. "Hmm, what's your favorite type of flower?"

"Flower?"

"It's for our future date, i need to make sure i'll get you something you like," he explained. "I don't want to get you roses if you don't like roses."

"Oh, well, i don't really know. Nobody ever got me flowers before," you said, the blush sticking on your cheeks like a glue. "I suppose orchids and lilies are pretty."

"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.

His words made you feel nice and get butterflies in your stomach, but you really didn't understand what his intentions truly were. You hadn't had many guys to show interest on you before, if any, so you had been used to the fact that you might just stay alone.

You continued your conversation and lost the track of time completely. You asked about his life as a rapper and what his life goals were in the music industry, since that was really the only thing you knew about him outside these games before now talking with him. He asked about your hobbies and in general about your interests - you could sense that he was considering to include some of them to your "date" he had mentioned.

Eventually he changed the subject to the one that you would have prefered to leave alone. The one you hadn't truthfully told even to Dae-ho or Gi-hun yet.

"So, how did you end up here?" Thanos asked. "You know, debts and all."

"Well, i wouldn't want to bother you with that. It's pretty depressing," you said after being quiet for a moment, twirling the rest of your food with your fork. You were a little nervous to open up to him about it now that you were having a nice conversation, him making you even laugh here and there. But for some reason, you had started to become more comfortable around him and able to talk more freely.

"I'd be glad to hear it, if you want to share," Thanos said, encouraging you to tell him, but only if you were comfortable with it.

"Oh, well," you sighed. "The main reason i came here was because my little brother has cancer." You took a deep breath to get the words properly out of your mouth. It was already hard to think about and even harder to talk about it without crying. You tried to say the words as fast as you could, otherwise they would be stuck in your throat. "We don't have money for his treatments, my mom doesn't earn a lot from her work, and if we don't start treating it soon, he will die."

You were looking at your lap, scared to glance back at Thanos. You were feeling your eyes becoming wet and you were afraid you'd start to cry in front of him. He was quiet for a while, speechless. He hadn't been prepared for you having such a heavy reason to be here.

"How old is your brother?" Thanos asked softly.

"He's just 11," you answered and felt tears rising up into your eyes. You hated talking about this because even a single thought of losing your brother broke you. You wiped a tear off your face as soon as it had appeared out of your eye.

"I'm sorry," you chuckled, trying to force yourself to lighten up. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment."

"No, no you didn't ruin anything, it's okay," he assured you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "I'm sorry i made you bring it up."

You buried your face on his shoulder.

"I just want to get back home, i don't care how much money i'll get and if it's enough to cover everything," you mumbled. "I just have to go and take care of my brother."

You stayed like that for a while, Thanos comforting you the best he could. Now, the need to protect you at any cost grew even stronger.

☆☆☆

It was time to vote, whether you'd want to stay and play the games or go home with the money earned by far.

Thanos was having mixed feelings. Personally, he would have of course continued the game and played for more money - the current amount wasn't enough to cover all his debts. One more game, that was what had been going on in Thanos' head.

One more game.

But when he turned to look at you, standing further away from him with your group, your gaze stuck on the floor, looking anxious - he felt something sting and break his heart.

Every day here was a new possibility to die. None of you knew what tomorrow's game was, it was always a total surprise until you started playing it.

What if the game tomorrow would be too hard for you and you wouldn't make it? Thanos couldn't live with himself anymore if he had decided to continue the game and survived, but you lost your life, as would your brother.

Player 230.

Thanos stood in front of the two buttons, gaze jumping between them. Before getting to know you, his choice would have been simple. But now?

"Player 230," the pink guard in front of Thanos said, he hadn't realised how long he had been standing there doing nothing. "Please make your choice."

Eventually, against all the odds, Thanos pressed the red button, giving one more point to the X team. He glanced towards Nam-gyu who looked at Thanos like he couldn't believe his eyes what he was seeing. Thanos ignored him and walked to the red side, appearing next to you.

"Told you i'll get you home, pretty flower," Thanos whispered to you.

You looked at him like you were sure you were seeing things. Being here had finally made you to hallucinate. Surely he hadn't chosen to go home only because of you, he couldn't be that attached to you already.

"But you still needed a lot more money," you pointed out, furrowing your eyebrows. You would have understood if he wanted to and chose to stay. You weren't a burden he had to bear.

"And i'll find a way to pay my debts on my own," Thanos answered.

The waiting felt like it took forever. There weren't that many players left anymore, but it felt like everything was happening twice slower than in reality.

Finally, after the last player had voted, you looked at the scores and you felt like your entire world was slowing down even more and you weren't able to get air into your lungs.

The situation was 50-51. The 'O' team won yet again. You wanted to break down and cry, right then and there. When you had seen Thanos approaching you with the red patch on his jacket, somehow you were sure that this time you were going home, as if the decision was depending purely on him.

If just two more people would have voted for X, you'd be on your way home. But no, you had to stay for another game.

"I'm sorry," Thanos said and held your hand, looking genuinely concerned. "I really am."

"It's fine," was all you said until you walked back to your bunk without sparing a single glance at anyone else.

☆☆☆

Laying on your bed on your side you weren't able to sleep. You only stared ahead of you, feeling hopeless. You wanted out of this place so badly and the voting tonight had given you way too much false hope that this could actually be over soon, just to be completely crushed.

You sat up and wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself so you'd be able to sleep atleast a little bit.

You were thinking about your little brother. He deserved so much more, had his entire life ahead of him. If you were able to take his cancer to you, you would take it any day and let him live. What if he had passed away during your stay here? What if you'd go back home and meet only your mother who had been crying for days and refused to eat, sleep or do anything?

You had to bite your lip to keep the sobs inside you, afraid you'd wake up the people sleeping near you.

"Can't sleep huh?" Thanos whispered, you didn't look at him. You had seen him approaching from the corner of your eye, even though you hadn't fully turned to look at him. "Listen," he continued and took your hand in his. "I'm going to make sure you'll get out of here, okay?"

"And how are you going to do that?" you scoffed, accidentally letting out a single sob. "You don't even know the next game."

He sat down on the bed with you and took your hand in his. He didn't know how he could comfort you.

"I don't, but i'll do whatever i can to get you home," he said and tried to give you a comforting smile. "I'll protect you, no matter what, and when the votings come, i'm absolutely sure that we'll get to leave this place."

"What are you going to do? Cheat the system?"

"If i have to," he smirked. He hesitated for a second until lifted his hand to wipe the remaining tears off your cheek.

☆☆☆

It was time for the next game. You arrived into a room which had four shapes on one of the walls.

The same symbols as in playing cards.

♤♡◇♧

The game was called Dalgona. It was exactly the same game Gi-hun had talked to you about in the beginning when he had thought Dalgona must be the second game like three years ago. Only the shapes had now changed.

The reason why they had suddenly brought dalgona back to this year was unclear to you. Unclear to everybody. By now everyone had thought that only the first game was the same and they had changed the rest of them to new ones.

Players were commanded to line up in front of one of the shapes, chosen by their own will. Gi-hun immediately told you to choose the diamond, it would be the easiest one.

Thanos let you go for the diamond, but he chose the heart, even though you insisted that he'd take the diamond too.

"Come on, it's not that much harder, i'll be fine," he assured you with a smile, as if it wasn't a big deal.

If you were going to die just because you accidentally cracked a wrong piece of a cookie off, that would be super embarrassing to explain in a funeral. Although, dying here you wouldn't even get a funeral.

You sat down on the floor, legs crossed, and the time started running down, one second at a time. You took the needle in your shaky hands and carefully started carving the lines of the shape, afraid to press too hard and crack the cookie in half any minute.

One thing you were afraid as well was when someone would be shot, your hand would accidentally slip due to the loud noise and make you fail too.

Thanos took quick glances at you once in a while, to make sure you were still sitting there. His hands were sweating and his heart beating fast.

The only sounds during the game were only the gunshots and the voice announcing which players had just been eliminated. You flinched each time, even though you had tried to prepare yourself for that.

This wasn't a game where Thanos would be able to help you and he hated it. On the first game, he had protected you by running in front of you. On the second game, you had other players in your group to help you. On the third game, he had saved you by taking you to a room with him when you had been left all alone.

Now, you were all on your own, he wasn't able to say a single word for you, you all had to stay quiet and only concentrate on your own task. He didn't think you were weak, not at all, he just needed to be there as a backup plan, ready to catch and save you if something went wrong.

Thanos was afraid he'd crack the cookie any second. If he was to die now, there would be one person less to vote for X and get you back home, though he couldn't know how many people from the blue side would be killed today.

He wasn't sure when had been the moment when he had decided that protecting you had become his number one priority. It just naturally came to him.

On the distance, Thanos saw one player to use a lighter to heat up the needle and then poke the cookie. By the looks of her face, she was subtly looking around her to see if the guards were watching her. He only had the pills inside his cross and they weren't much of a help for him right now.

Thanos was glad that you had chosen the easiest shape and not spades or clubs. He did believe in you and was sure to see you alive on the other side.

His heart stopped when he cracked a small piece off from the tip of the heart when he had completed the task. It was only a very tiny piece and the cookie still looked like a complete heart, but he didn't know how detailed and harsh the system was here. Thanos saw a guard approaching him and showed the heart to him, hiding the slightly broken tip with his finger as he held it up.

Pass.

Thanos let out a breath of relief, being able to breathe again properly. He didn't know why, but that was one of the most stressful games by far.

You were still carving yours as Thanos walked outside, but you weren't far behind. Just barely 20 seconds later, you had finished your task as well.

Pass.

☆☆☆

"Señorita, excuse me," Thanos said, making you stop before you managed to go and talk to Dae-ho, who had finished the challenge before you. Thanos was standing closer than you had expected, though he had seen you first.

"Yes, señor?" you said back sarcastically.

"I have a gift for you," he smiled.

"A gift?"

"I'll give you my heart if you'll let me have yours, after this is all over," he said, genuine kindness in his eyes.

"What are you on about?" That was such a cheesy and odd line to say out of nowhere, but it did make your heart skip a beat.

"When we get home tomorrow, i'll take you out soon, after you've seen your brother."

"How are you so sure we'll get home? People might vote to stay."

"Have a little bit hope, pretty flower."

He took your hand in his, you didn't resist.

"Keep this safe for me, okay?" he said and put something in your hand, closing your fist around it. Then, he left without another word.

You opened your hand, seeing the heart he had carved out from the cookie laying on your palm.

☆☆☆

The fourth game had eliminated only 29 players in total, so there was 72 left.

Thanos tried to count the players how many of them had blue patches and red patches on their jackets, but he lost count and wasn't sure if he had counted some people twice or not at all.

Thanos went to the bathroom where he found his former group.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," Nam-gyu slowly said and crossed his arms on his chest. He had three other guys around him, one of them Min-su. "Coming back to us after betraying us like that? I think not."

He stepped closer to Thanos.

"Sorry to say, but i don't think you're welcome anymore."

"I don't give a shit about you, Nam-su," Thanos said and didn't care to hear him trying to correct Thanos for saying his name wrong again. "Tonight, you better all vote for X or tomorrow i may not be in as good mood as right now, seeing you," Thanos said loudly and then glanced at Min-su, who still had the blue patch on his jacket. Thanos walked towards him and trapped him between himself and a wall. Thanos tried to change the expression on his face to more kind and sweet. "You'll do that for me, right Min-su?"

Thanos gave him a sweet smile, but Min-su hesitated without a word, both Nam-gyu and Thanos looking at him. Min-su wasn't entirely sure which side was safer for him to choose.

"What's up with you anyway? Don't tell me that woman has gotten into your head this badly. I'm not going home yet when there's more money to be earned."

"You can earn your money elsewhere," Thanos stated, gritting his teeth.

"Seriously, dude. I get that she's hot but-"

"One more word and you'll lose a tooth," Thanos threatened, pointing at him with his finger.

To be honest, Thanos wasn't sure how he had fallen so hard for you in such a little time. He had never been so smitten about a woman before, but there was something different about you, and he needed to know you better, no matter what he had to do to achieve it.

☆☆☆

The votings came and this time, it was easier for him to press X than last time. The money he had earned by far wasn't enough for his debts, but he'd figure it out how to get the rest when you had managed to get out of here.

Both of you had now voted and were only waiting for the result. Thanos glanced at you and you looked like you were going to be sick. He took your hand in his, making you jump a little bit for the sudden touch, but you let your fingers wrap between his. He gave you a comforting squeeze.

Internally, Thanos felt terrified. What if he had only given you false promises and you'd have to stay for the fifth game again? You were so broken yesterday that he didn't think he'd be able to see the same look on your face again this fast. You would definitely lose any trust you still might have for his words, not believe anything he would say to you anymore.

You hid your eyes with your left hand, not wanting to watch how the scores were changing and how much X was losing to O.

Then, all the votes were in and for a moment Thanos' heart stopped by looking at the score.

37-35.

"Y/N," Thanos whispered, finally using your real name and not only the nickname he had chosen, and brushed your left hand as a sign to let it drop from your face. "You can look now."

When you saw the scores on the broad, your knees felt so weak that you had to cling on Thanos' jacket not to fall on the floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and you broke down in tears.

"Oh my god," you laughed between the tears. "Thanos. Oh my god."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, startling Thanos at first how you pressed your body against his, but he wrapped his arms around you securely. Surprisingly, a hint of red was rising on his cheeks, along with a smile.

"I can go back home," you said against his jacket.

You pulled back and without thinking, you pressed a light kiss on Thanos' cheek.

"Thank you."

"So," Thanos lingered and took your hands in his. "I'll pick you up on Saturday?"

You bit your lip. "Okay."

☆☆☆

A/N: I'm not sure what i think about this compared to the first part, but i hope you liked it 🫶🏻

Tags:

@justsisse

@septywitch

#thanos imagine #thanos x reader #squid game imagine #squid game x reader #choi su bong imagine #choi su bong x reader

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so-i-did-this-thing · 1 day ago

Note

been thinking of investing in a bass pro shop hat to simultaneously get gendered correctly and avoid being clocked as trans... I live in a pretty conservative rural area so I figure if I dress like the local cis guys they'll think I'm one of them and act accordingly.

The only issue is I'm pre everything so my voice sounds like shit. If I talk they'll either clock me or assume I'm a kid but I can just not talk unless needed, right?

Do you think this is a good idea?

In this moment in history, we need a mix of visible and invisible trans people. There are many different roles to play when fighting fascism and not all are on the front lines.

I am in a support role right now, so am pretty stealth currently. And maybe that's what you need to ask yourself -- is anyone directly depending on you and how does that influence your plans?

It's also hard to answer your question because I don't know your experiences trying to pass in public, and if your current presentation to an outsider reads as "cis female" or "some kind of queer".

With all the kindness in my heart -- don't confuse gender euphoria with the ability to pass. Get some second opinions on your cishet cosplay. Take photos at unflattering angles, from the back and sides. I'm still unsettled at how my silhouette at certain angles clocks me.

You also need to decide if there is a point where you're safer off presenting as female. What you would do if you ever reach that point and what the consequences would be.

If this will be your first time presenting as male in public, you might want to wait a bit while the current chaos of the new admin settles. Things are highly unpredictable right now.

If you do attempt to pass like this, stay out of bathrooms and try to go out only during the day, ideally with cis friends. Drive safely. Avoid doing things that require showing your ID. You want to be invisible and be mistaken for a teenager.

If you get clocked, it's very likely you'll be taken for a lesbian, as so many transphobes still forget trans men exist. Which still may not lend you much safety if they're homophobic. Rehearse how you would respond in a confrontation.

It's always a risk, trying to pass in hostile areas. Because the retribution could be even worse once transphobes learn they have been "deceived".

It has to be your call. But put a lot of thought into it and practice where it's safest.

Good luck and take care.

#trans stuff #ngl if I want to be mistaken for cishet I put on my ballcap and trucker jacket and take off my glasses

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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago

Note

Listen I’m going insane from how you write Stan and been rereading your spicy chatting headcanons and…. Am I too greedy if I’ll ask for sex call with him?? 🥲

when the pervy old man meets his match

tags: smut, nsfw, fem reader, phone sex, competitive dirty talk, established relationship, reader is just as much of a menace as Stan

hey honey thank you so much! here it is! it's honestly just full of dialogues lmao. sorry i wrote this in a depraved frenzy and did not look back. if there are mistakes, pretend you don’t see them. if it’s too filthy, no it’s not<3 mb I'll correct it later

your phone rings and it's midnight. a little devilish smile appears on your lips. you know exactly who it is.

“finally,” you purr, picking up. “was wondering how long it’d take for you to crack, old man.”

“tch. crack?” Stan scoffs. “sweetheart, i was givin' you a chance to call first. figured you’d get too desperate to wait.”

you smirk, rolling onto your back. ”oh, is that what you think?”

“i know it.” he laughs. “ain’t had my hands on ya in three whole days. bet you’re losin’ your goddamn mind over it.”

cocky bastard.

“hmm,” you hum in amusement. “who said i haven’t had my hands on myself instead?”

“heh, sure, doll, then you just laid there all frustrated, wishin’ it was me instead of your hand.”

“oh, no, Stan,” you interrupt innocently. “i came.” he stops breathing. “mm, and it felt so good, too, made such a mess. you would’ve loved it.”

Stanley goes silent. oh, you’ve got him now. “. . . the fuck’d you just say?”

you stretch out on the bed, imagining the look on his face. jaw tight. eyes dark. grip white-knuckling his phone.

“you heard me,” you coo. “been keeping myself nice and satisfied while you’re gone.”

a lie. a blatant, filthy lie. of course you want him. but you won’t say that. not yet.

“what’s the matter?” you murmur, teasing. “dont tell me. . . you jealous of my fingers?”

Stan lets out a harsh breath. “yeah, actually,” he growls. “bet they don’t even get the job done right and you still finish all needy and desperate, just wishin’ it was my cock instead.”

fuck. your breath hitches slightly, so tiny, but Stan hears it.

“. . . ohhh, that gotcha, huh?” his voice dips, turning low. “ya can play all confident, sweetheart, act like ya ain’t fuckin’ sufferin’ without me, like ya ain’t practically drippin’ just hearin’ my voice—“

you swallow. hard. your smile fades from your confident face

“but we both know the truth, don’t we?”

no, you don't give up. “you sound real worked up, Stanley. do you need me to take care of it for you?”

a sharp inhale from the other end. “heh,” he grits out. “you wish.”

“yeah, sounds like you’re getting all hot and bothered over there. you’re already touching yourself, huh? couldn’t help it?”

“hah,” Stan scoffs, but his voice sounds weaker now. oh, you’re winning.

“c’mon, baby,” you whisper in a honey-sweet voice. “tell me. are you hard?”

he exhales through his teeth. “maybe.”

“aw, poor Stanley, been away from me too long, huh? you must be so worked up, all desperate and aching. . .”

Stan grins. “sweetheart, i’m a grown-ass man. i ain’t desperate for anything.”

you pause long enough to make his skin prickle. then softly and slowly you say quietly “so you’re not hard right now?”

fuck. his body betrays him instantly. because, obviously he is. painfully so. has been since the second he heard your voice, if he’s being honest. but like hell is he gonna admit that to you.

“nah,” he lies too quickly.

you giggle. “liar.”

“shut up,” he mutters.

“sorry, Stanley, i cant shut up, thinking about how i’d drop to my knees for you, pull your pants down real slow, press my tongue right up against that thick cock and—”

“oh, for fuck’s sake—“

“you’d be so sensitive, all needy and throbbing for me. i could get you begging in five minutes.”

“like hell you could!”

your laugh is pure evil. “oh, really?” Stan knows that tone, he’s in trouble. “wanna prove it, old man?”

Stan grits his teeth. “you little minx,” he growls. “fine. you wanna play? we play. wanna know what i think?” your stomach tightens, you're so not ready to hear that. but it's so damn sexy when he gets like that. “i know you’re sittin’ there all wet and needy, waitin’ for me to take over.”

your breath catches as your fingers start moving faster.

“aww, see? can hear it in your breath, baby. you love lettin’ me take control, huh? love bein’ my little plaything?”

you grip the sheets.

“y’think about my cock, huh?” that bastard teases. ”you ache for it and dream about me splittin’ you open, fuckin’ you deep ‘til you cry.”

your thighs press together as you try to bring yourself to orgasm while he talks.

“tell me, baby, what’s your favorite way for me to fuck ya?”

you stop for a second, breathing. “. . .i dunno, you tell me.”

Stan groans and laughs. “that’s what i thought. you like it every way i give it to ya. you like gettin’ thrown around, pinned down, bent over. like when i take my time, when i tease, when i make you beg for it. like when i spread your legs and fuck ya slow, so deep your little cunt flutters around me, just tryin’ to suck me in.”

you let out a quiet sob, rubbing your clit harder. shit. okay. he came prepared.

“remember the last time i had ya?” fuck. he's dirty for this. “spread ya out on the kitchen table, pushed those pretty little legs open, had ya beggin' for my cock while i just tapped it against that messy little cunt.”

heat spikes through your belly. your brain melting

“and you were so fuckin’ wet, so messy for me. couldn't even hold still. had to pin ya down, keep ya in place, make ya take it nice and deep. and god, the way ya screamed when i finally gave it to ya,” he groans, pumping his twitching cock. “cried so pretty for me, took every single inch like a good fuckin’ girl.”

you exhale.

“aw, babyy,” Stan mocks. “gettin’ all squirmy over there? miss me poundin’ that tight little cunt open? miss feelin’ my cock knockin’ up against your cervix?”

oh, this bastard. he knows exactly what he’s doing. knows how to talk you into a goddamn frenzy, how to drag you through every memory, making you feel it all over again. but you won’t let him win.

“eh, big talk for a man who passed out immediately after a blowjob.”

Stan huffs.

“it's just,” you muse. “i think i might need to find someone who can actually keep up with me.”

“sweetheart,” he growls. “don't fuckin' start with me.”

you grin. “what, old man? afraid someone else could fuck me better?”

“honestly, you're such a fucking brat.” he mutters resentfully.

“and you're all alone, jerking off to the thought of me like some pathetic old pervert.”

Stan groans and that sound makes you clench around nothing.

“hehe, you stroking it, old man? pumping that fat cock real slow, thinkin’ about how tight my pussy is?”

his eyes widen. wow. . . you're too brave today. he likes that. “sweet moses,” you hear him groaning.

“tell me, baby, am i right? it's throbbing? just begging to be buried inside me?”

“fuckin’ hell,” Stan hisses. “fuck, f-fuck, shit. . .”

wide cocky smile appears on your face. oh you love this. love how you can hear the tension in his breath, imagining how he’s gripping himself too tight, trying to hold on, trying not to lose.

but he’s gonna. he’s so gonna.

“y’know what i was thinking about earlier?” you murmur.

Stan swallows. “wh-what?”

you grin. “how deep you get when you fuck me.” Stan's response is low whimper when he circles his leaking tip with his fingers. “no, seriously, you stretch me so wide, Stanley. get all the way up against my cervix, push me down into the mattress, just ruining me. i love hearing your groans when i bite your shoulder.”

his breathing is much heavier now, he's already so close.

“Stanley? you close?“

“y-you’re gonna fuckin’ regret this,” he grits out.

“what’s wrong, old man? you were all big and bad a second ago. now ya can’t even keep up? i know how bad you want it, how much you miss the way i take you so deep, so tight”

Stanley is so fucking close.

“you’re leaking, huh? and you’re still trying to hold back,” another mocking sympathy from you. “so stubborn, determined not to let me win. guess i’ll just have to break you, then. oh yeah,” you laugh when you hear another moan from him. “that gotcha, huh? i know you’d love that, you’d love me getting on top, riding you all slow and deep, keeping you right on the edge ‘till you’re begging me for it, begging me to let you cum inside of me.”

“f-fuck, baby, just. . . just like that,” his voice is shaking.

“you gonna cum, Stan? gonna make a mess all over yourself just from hearing my voice?”

“you—fuck—you little—”

suddenly his phone vibrates with a notification. you just sent him a photo.

he barely has time to open it before he sees you, spread out as you fuck yourself open on your fingers.

Stan sucks in a sharp breath. “what. . . the fuck”

“somethin’ wrong?” you coo.

silence, hes silent until you hear choked loud “oh oh oh, fuckkk” and you know he lost, so fucking hard. his orgasm hits hard, violent, brain-melting, his body tensing, groaning your name through gritted teeth. you hear the sharp inhale, the shaky breath, the low, drawn-out moan as he spills messy over his fist.

“awww, couldn’t hold out, huh?”

Stan pants, breathless. “fuck you.”

“you wish,” you smirk, giggling.

“okay okay. you won.” Stanley admits, rubbing his sweaty forehead. “you won, baby.”

“but you put up a good fight, old man!”

he groans. “hot belgian waffles, what the hell am i gonna do with you?”

“maybe bend me over the second you get home and teach me a lesson?”

Stan chuckles. “oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you just signed up for.”

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #gravity falls smut #gravity falls #stan pines headcanons #stan pines #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stan pines x you #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x self insert #stan pines x oc #stanley pines smut #stan pines smut

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paulyenvol6 · 22 hours ago

Text

Aftermath

Joel Miller x female reader (OS)

This is just 5,000 words of smut with mean Joel, hope you enjoy it :)

Contains: smut, dubcon, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (m receiving), fingering, slight breeding kink, daddy kink, mean and dom!Joel, sub!reader, pet names (bitch, slut, whore), degrading, praising, crying, punishment, spanking, gagging, rough sex, forced exhibitionism, objectification, angst, a little fluff at the end

Wordcount: ~5.53k

Masterlist

The air hit your naked arms as soon as you stepped outside the restaurant which gave you goosebumps.

Under any other circumstances you might have asked Joel for his jacket but despite feeling defiant and stubborn you knew that you had pissed him off too much already.

It was the way he stared ahead without even as much as glancing at you. All of these things he usually did like wrapping an arm around your waist or looking at you every now and then in order to make sure you were fine he didn't do right now.

"Joel," you started trying to sound as relaxed and unbothered as possible although you felt a little panicky.

"Walk," was all he answered and for a moment you stopped smoking and walking to look at him.

"What?"

Now he finally wrapped his arm around your back but not to comfort you but to drag you with him.

"Joel, what the – " "Shut up. And put this out," he hissed and forcefully pulled the cigarette out of your mouth.

'No,' you thought and turned to him. Who did he think he was treating you like a kid? You pushed at his chest while simultaneously reaching for the cigarette but he was stronger than you and quickly took hold of your wrists.

"Will you quit the fighting now?" he growled and you hated how calm he sounded while you were feeling like you were making a fool of yourself.

"Let me go," you answered but the way you dropped your head and how you were avoiding his gaze gave your true feelings away. He chuckled at you while putting the cigarette that he had just taken from you into his own mouth.

"Give it back," you demanded but only got another evil smirk in response.

"No."

"Please. I'm sorry."

He raised his eyebrows acting all surprised. "Oh you're sorry? For what?"

Why did he have to humiliate you like this every goddamn time? You chewed on your bottom lip thinking of a way not to give him exactly what he wanted but before you could even open your mouth he had already turned around to continue the short walk to his car while pulling you with him. For a second you were almost relieved figuring that he might let you off this easily but of course he wasn't finished yet.

"Answer me."

You despised how he was able to intimidate you with so little he needed to say and suddenly you felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, I… I shouldn't have spend so much time talking t-to Charles."

Your voice was barely more than a whisper and for a moment you feared he would make you repeat your apology but he remained silent which unsettled you more than anything else.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you said a little louder. "I really am."

You stood in front of the car now but neither of you intended to enter it. To be fair, he had the car keys so there was nothing you could do anyway. All of a sudden he took a stepd towards you and it was such a powerful movement that you instinctively took one back. His dark eyes laid on your face for a while until his hand slowly approached your chin.

"Not Joel," he growled dangerously. You gulped loudly and slightly shifted under his grip.

"Please, Joel, I – "

The slap came unexpected and so hard that your head turned to the side and a gasp left your mouth. Your cheek stung and at first you open-mouthedly stared at him but then the irrational side of you took over and you fought. You pushed at his chest and moved away from him but his arms came down to firmly grab your upper arms. Before you were able to form a single straight thought in your head Joel had moved you towards the car and now you were trapped between the door and his strong body.

"You best not be doin' this, kitten," he said sounding almost gleeful. "You don't want this."

He precisely watched your face while tilting his head a little as if he was waiting for an answer. But you were definitely too emotional to speak.

"You don't wanna get into more trouble than you're already in."

"Joel," you tried but were quickly interrupted as his hand came down to your neck.

"No. Try again."

"Please…," you begged him realizing now how pissed he actually was but his eyes were completely merciless. His hand slightly squeezed around your throat making you inhale greedily fearing that he might cut off your air supply.

"No. Go on, you know the word, babygirl."

"Daddy," it eventually broke out of you and his grip loosened a little while his face didn't change at all. He looked so cold that a shiver ran down your spine and you had to blink a few times.

"There… we go," he murmured and then before you could try and ask him for his forgiveness Joel had started to open his belt and you felt your heart sink.

He did not only want to use sex as a punishment for you but he also wanted it to happen here? You were definitely down for getting on your knees for him if it meant that he would forgive you but you didn't feel like doing it on a parking space where someone could walk by any minute.

And yet you kept those thoughts to yourself at first and watched his hands open his jeans. Once he was done he suddenly yanked your head back which made you shriek but he was quick to place a hand on your mouth.

"You're gonna shut the fuck up now or I'll shove somethin' way bigger than my cock down your throat, you understand me?"

You quietly whimpered but nodded with your head.

"You fucking know that ya pissed me off. You did a heck of a job with that." You closed your eyes trying to ignore the way your scalp stung under his force but he immediately shook you.

"Look at me, bitch." You couldn't help it and let out a sob which Joel utterly ignored.

"I ain't too fond of seeing some guy lookin' at ya like that. But what I hate even more – " He came even closer to you with his mouth almost brushing over your jaw "Is you enjoying it."

"I didn't, daddy. I swear it to you, I didn't enjoy it."

He laughed lowly but there was nothing warm about the sound.

"Every fucking person at the table saw it, you filthy little liar. Everyone saw you blinking your eyes and giving him that goddamn stupid smile like you're nothing but a empty-headed slut that's pretty to look at."

Tears collected in the corner of your eyes and you knew that if he continued to talk to you that way it would be a matter of seconds until they would roll down your face.

"Please, daddy. I'm sorry… I… I really am. I only want you, please."

He cruelly smirked and suddenly roughly grabbed your left breasts through the fabric of your shirt.

"I know ya do. 'Cause when it comes down to it ya run back to daddy thinking he'll fix everything. You think you can act like a whore and then come back to me at the end of the day, spread your legs an' everythin' will be fine. Daddy's gonna protect and forgive ya 'cause you're such a sweet l'il thing."

You felt the familiar feeling of your nipple hardening under his rough hand and when he ran his thumb over the bud you gasped.

"Yeah, s'right. Wanna hear you moan. Wanna hear you proving my fucking point."

He was so close to you now that you felt his bulge pressing against your center and you couldn't help but slightly grind against him.

"S'not gonna go on like this," he growled and forcefully removed your hands that had started to pull at his arms by pinning them to the car next to your body.

"I have a feeling you need a lesson in how to behave yourself. 'Cause you ain't gonna go around throwing yourself against those pretty boys any longer. I'm gonna remind you who this little body belongs to. And 'cause my words ain't enough to make you obey me I'll find a different way."

His hand returned to its previous position on your chest and he roughly kneaded the flesh. You were stunned and felt the blood rushing in your cheeks while looking down to his big hand connected to your body.

"D-Daddy," you whined and desired some stimulation on your clit so badly that you rocked your core against his thigh between your legs. You just couldn't help yourself. Joel granted you the space for a few seconds before removing his hands from your body.

"On your fucking knees," he hissed and in the dim light his eyes looked so dark that you couldn't make out his pupils. For some reason it unsettled you because he watched you like a predator examining his prey. An animal thinking about what it would do to its victim.

You were torn from your thoughts when Joel grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you down.

"I said. On your fucking knees. Or do I have to make you?"

You placed your hands on his trying to prevent him from ripping out your hair while your face was distorted in pain.

"Please Daddy, do I have to do it here? Where someone could watch?"

"Do you think you're in the position to demand anything of me right now?" he spoke through grinded teeth and increased the force with which he pulled you down. It was simply too much now because you felt you had no choice but to move to the ground and suddenly you found yourself kneeling in front of him.

"I'm gonna do it and I'm gonna be good, I swear. But please, in the car at least?" you begged and didn't care how pathetic you must look to him. It was even harder to make out his facial expression from the position you were in now so all you could do was wait for his answer. And it came. In the form of his cock.

He pulled down his jeans just so much that he could free his already hard cock. As always you looked at his member with wide eyes thinking that he definitely was the biggest you had ever seen. He was veiny, thick and long and… beautiful.

Before you had met Joel you had often caught yourself thinking that the male genitals were a little disgusting if you were being honest with yourself and that you could pretty much do without a man's cock when you were being intimate with someone. But then you had seen him for the first time and from this moment on you felt like touching him at all times.

He felt so good in your hand; so heavy and soft and when you twirled your tongue around his tip you could taste his saltiness and your favourite part was when he twitched inside of your mouth. And you didn't even want to start with having him inside of you. When he fucked you nice and slow you could feel every inch and every vein so intensely. He could reach so deep inside of you that he sometimes hit your cervix and when he found the right angle he managed to hit that spongy spot inside of you while his balls simultaneously stimulated your clit.

But now… Now he was angry and you knew he wouldn't make it easy for you.

"Open," his husky voice ordered you and you stuck out your tongue just the way he liked it.

You put everything in your eyes; everything that he wanted to see when he intended to punish you. Submissiveness, weakness, vulnerability, obedience. Because as much as he felt like you needed to be reminded of your place, he needed to be reminded that you were his and that he could do everything he wanted to you as well. That you needed him and were fully dependend on him.

Even in the darkness you could see something glistening in his eyes and then he pushed two fingers in your mouth.

"Suck," he said but you wouldn't have needed the command.

Your tongue immediately swirled around the digits as if it was the tastiest thing you've ever had in your mouth and when you heard Joel quietly moan you felt a little more hopeful again. You would show him, prove him how good you were and how eager you were to please him.

The first time you struggled a little was when he went deeper. You didn't have a very strong gagging reflex but at some point you couldn't help it and let out a sound of displeasure. You didn't even know whether Joel did this to prepare you for his cock and this was an act of kindness or he simply wanted to see you choke on his fingers before entering you but based on his current state of mind you assumed it was the first.

Your hands gripped his jeans while he forced his fingers down your throat and you felt spit running out of the corner of your mouth. This would be messy but you were beyond the point of caring about anything that didn't surround him.

"Take it, kitten. C'mon, be a good girl for daddy."

And you wanted to be good so badly. You had hurt him, betrayed him although you wanted him to be able to trust you. How could you have done this after Joel had been so kind to you? Suddenly you felt more tears welling in your eyes and you weren't certain if they were caused by the intrusion or your sudden sadness.

He pushed deeper, so deep that you thought if he went an inch deeper you would have to beg him to stop but then it was suddenly over.

You blinked twice and Joel clearly used your astonishment to swiftly insert his cock into your still open mouth and he sighed deeply once he felt the wetness and warmth of it. "Fuck…"

In the meantime you were trying to adjust to his size and find a way to properly inhale. You forced yourself to breathe steadily and did everything in your power to ignore the way his tip grazed the back of your throat. 'Don't think about it, don't think about it,' was you mantra because you knew if you really paid attention to how deep he actually was it would only worsen everything. Instead you concentrated on your lips and how they tightly wrapped around his shaft.

At first Joel enjoyed taking in the way you felt around him but then he began to fuck your throat as if you were nothing but a little toy for him to get off. His hand grabbed the back of your head holding you in place and then he backed out a little only to take your throat all the way.

You whimpered and noticed the fresh tears burning in your eyes but didn't dare to complain. He simply didn't care. He would take you the way he wanted, use your throat and do whatever it was he craved. And right now it seemed like he wanted to destroy your mouth.

"Holy shit," Joel cursed and put his left hand on the car for support. "Can't believe m'not doing this all the fucking time. Need to remind myself of how good your little throat feels more often, mhm?"

He lightly slapped your cheek with his hand which caused you to moan and him humming in satisfaction as the vibrations of your mouth stimulated his cock so perfectly.

"Where am I gonna put my cum, huh? Any preferences, baby?" he laughed about his own words being well–aware that even if you wanted to say something, you weren't able to and then watched you thoughtfully.

"Maybe m'gonna make you choke on it. Or paint your pretty face. I think it would look good mixed with your little tears."

All you could do was just look at him and wait. It wasn't your decision to make after all and so you just tried your best to hold back the sound of you gagging around him.

Soon you sensed that he grew closer to his release as his thrusts became more sloppy and his grunts became louder and all you prayed for was that he wouldn't come down your throat. You were already sore, your jaw was aching and you needed a moment of peace as quickly as possible.

Perhaps it was the first time that you were in luck tonight because Joel seemed to have made a choice and suddenly pulled out of you.

"Stick your tongue out, baby," he growled darkly and then threw his head back. "Ohh fuck… Yeah, that's it…. Take it all."

You sat patiently obediently looking up to him with an open mouth and for a moment felt very proud of yourself for having followed his demands so well. Joel pumped himself over and over again until he was sure he had emptied himself entirely and then really looked at you again.

You must have been a sight with your hair sticking to your forehead, tears and cum covering your face while there certainly was drool running down your chin. The corner of his mouth twitched and then he slapped your cheek, softer now than before.

And yet it frustrated you because you had believed he would be more gentle with you now and some part of you had even assmued that your punishment would be over now.

"Open your legs," he hissed and his foot moved between your knees to part them. You wore a long skirt so it was easy to do as he had told you and you spread them all while still having your teary eyes on him.

"Touch yourself. On your clit."

You frowned but slipped your hand past the elastic waistband of your skirt and then began to rub your clit through your panties.

"Can't I – " you started but were immediately interrupted by Joel.

"No, you can't stand up. Little whores like you belong on the ground. Y'can be glad I allow you to prepare yourself a little and don't just fuck you like this an' split you open."

As if you actually needed the preparation. You were dripping, your arousal soaking your panties but for the first time you actually weren't quite sure if Joel did this for you. There was no other reason for him to demand this of you apart from making sure you were well-prepared and wet for him. Well, you definitely felt humiliated and degraded kneeling in front of him on the dirty ground while touching yourself so if this was his intention he was succeeding, but it was not worse than having your throat destroyed the way he had just done.

You went in tight circles around your clit, just the way you liked it which felt good and yet you craved Joel's hands on you. His big hands touching you gently and softly everywhere you liked it. In these moments you felt so safe and protected and suddenly a new wave of anxiety hit you hard.

You were supposed to lay in his arms instead of sitting here in front of him. He looked so tall and powerful while you couldn't remember ever feeling so pathetic. And you hated how angry he looked as there was no sign of love or warmth on his face.

It started when you felt your hands trembling which disturbed your movement on your clit after a while. And then it was your bottom lip shaking and soon your whole body shivered uncontrolled. Joel didn't notice at first or perhaps he didn't care. He palmed himself at the sight of you letting out little sighs every now and then but when there were new tears coating your cheeks and your eyes weren't on him anymore he reached down to cup your chin.

"Babygirl," he whispered and lifted your head but you refused to look at him feeling too embarrassed.

"Look at me." You shook your head again and now also stopped rubbing your clit.

"I want you to look at me. Now."

Silence.

"Don't make me fuckin' repeat myself, kitten."

At this point you couldn't refuse anymore because you feared the consequences of your resistance. It didn't really matter anyway because your sight was so blurry that you could barely make out Joel's face but what you could see was the way he lifted his eyebrows.

"Y'know ya got yourself in this position, right? You know why I'm doin' this."

You blinked and bit your lip in order to surpress a cry. "Answer me. I wanna know you're fuckin' listenin' to me."

His grip on your chin tightened and you nodded with the amount of space he was giving you. "Yes. I know."

You felt embarrassed again by how thin and weak your voice sounded but Joel didn't give any time to think about it because he was already opening his mouth again.

"Good. You acted like a little slut. And you need to get punished for it. But what I can see right now is you bawling your eyes out like a little girl 'cause it ain't feel as good as you would've liked. Is that right, huh?"

You nodded because what else were you supposed to do? Deny it? Fight back? It would only make him more mad.

"So lemme tell you that it's supposed to be like that. You're supposed to feel pathetic 'cause you are pathetic. I wanna make you see what happens when you ignore my words. And now you're gonna swallow it up and do as I tell you. If not we're gonna leave but believe me darlin', you're gonna hate it even more than this. 'Cause I ain't gonna be nice to you until you took your fucking punishment. 'Cause you fuckin' deserve it."

He waited for you to react to his words and you nodded again.

"Okay," you breathed and tried to hold back the next wave of tears.

"You're gonna take it now?"

You hiccuped once but meant it when you whispered "Yes." Joel dropped your head at once as if he had burned himself and went back to massaging his cock.

"Go on. Want your pussy nice 'an wet for me when I fuck you."

And so you continued what you had started and went over your clit with your thumb. It felt good but you feared that you were too emotionally loaded to orgasm but luckily Joel didn't have this much patience anyway. He watched your kneeling figure for a few minutes while touching himself and then when he was hard enough again his feet that was still resting between your knees tapped against your thigh.

"Up," he commanded and you rose with wobbly knees. For a moment you were dizzy, having sat on the ground for quite a while now but Joel didn't care or didn't notice because he immediately turned you around so your back was pressed to his chest.

He adjusted you like you were a rag doll, your flat hands against the car, your legs slightly spread and your skirt pulled up so your ass was exposed to the cold air. You couldn't see what he was doing which freaked you out so you turned around to look at him over your shoulder.

He was looking down to where his cock stood hard against his abdomen and then before you could even register his hand movement he slapped your ass. Hard.

Your teeth sank in your lower lip and when Joel ran hand over where it had come down you hissed out.

"C'mon. Let me hear you. Let it out, babygirl."

Now that you were standing up again his voice was louder against your ear and you felt goosebumps on your arms. Everything about this was so familiar with his strong body pressed against you, his scent in your nose and his voice sending tingles through your body. And yet, with the way he treated you as if he hated you, you couldn't feel more distant from him. Like he would rather see you gone.

He pulled down your panties to fully reveal what laid between your legs to him.

"Daddy," you whispered without even noticing that the sound had slipped past your lips.

"What, babygirl?" he answered and you quietly shrieked when you felt his tip sliding through your folds.

"Need you," you choked and when you felt his finger at your hole checking your wetness your hands reached behind you to touch his arm. You just needed something. Some assurance that he was still there for you despite his anger and disappointment.

"God, fuckin' drippin' all over me. You got off on this? Filthy little slut."

He pushed two fingers inside of you but seemed to decide that you really didn't need the preparation so he just thrusted inside of you twice and then pulled back again.

"Daddy," you whimpered again not sure what you were asking for and now Joel finally took his eyes off your pussy to look at you.

"What," he grunted sounding more than pissed and as a reaction your hand on his arm tightened.

"Please. Please, need you."

"Shut up. I swear to god, I don't wanna hear another sound coming out of your mouth if it's not your sweet voice moanin' f'me."

With these words he removed your hands from his body and before you could blink he was inside of you stretching you so well that your eyes became round as coins.

"Huh," you gasped and suddenly felt very grateful for the car in front of you because you really needed something to hold on to. Joel gave you a brief moment to adjust although he perhaps simply needed a second to take in your pussy as well and then started to move inside of you.

"Oh fuck… That's a nice little pussy. Takin' me so fuckin' well…"

His thrusts were deep and forceful as if he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him and that you were reminded of who the only person was who got to be inside of you.

"Mhmm…. You like that, babygirl? Like gettin' that pussy stretched?"

The whimper he got as a response seemed to be enough for him because he removed your hair to expose your neck and started to cover it with kisses and bitemarks. It was his first affectionate gesture since you had left the restaurant and although his teeth buried in your skin stung you felt relieved and grateful.

Every rational thought was banned from your mind. You had forgotten where you were, that this place wasn't appropriate to get your pussy fucked and that any person leaving the restaurant and walking to their car could see you.

His cock had taken over your mind. His voice, his beard stubble grazing over your neck. His hands on your hips holding you in place while he took from you what he wanted. And you wanted him to take and take until you were utterly consumed by him. Until you couldn't function without him and he was the only thing on your mind for all times.

And then when his hand reached around your hip to search for your clit you thought that it might be over. Your eyes rolled back and you bit your lip in an attempt to hold back the loud moan threatening to leave your mouth. Joel went in circles around your clit, pressing into the bundle of nerves every now and then and it was so good you felt your toes curl.

"Fuck," you pressed through closed teeth and felt your mind getting so clouded you forgot why he was even mad at you.

"I want ya to come f'me, baby. Want ya to soak my cock and clench 'round me. C'mon."

He slapped your ass at his words and increased the pace with which he stimulated your clit.

"Y-Yes," you pressed feeling the urge to communicate with him all of the sudden. "I-I… I wanna come, daddy."

His deep thrusts moved you against the car over and over again which hurt your hip bone that hit the door each time but you didn't care. Joel's mouth brushed over your hair, kissing you softly, but his hand that now moved around your upper body to wrap around your neck was in stark contrast to his gentle gesture. His iron grip prevented you from inhaling fresh air and for a moment you panicked and scratched his arm.

"Fuckin' relax. S'only gonna get worse if you fight back."

He held you in place like this and now you truly felt like a fuck toy. There was nothing you could do, his presence controlling every single one of your senses and eventually he made you come.

You were definitely too fucked out to tell him but Joel quickly noticed how you clenched around him and let out a satisfied growl.

"There ya go, honey." His hand between your legs slapped your clit which made you jolt and your head fell back on his shoulder.

"That's right, babygirl…"

You were too exhausted to even moan or say something so you just allowed these overwhelming feelings to spread throughout your body and you devoured every second of it.

Meanwhile Joel continued to use your body for his pleasure fucking you deep and moaning at the way your tight walls clenched and then soon he was about to come as well.

"Fuck yes, baby. Gonna fill ya up so good. You want that, huh? Wanna get knocked up by me?"

His hand squeezed your throat while his cock repeatedly pounded your sore pussy so roughly that you already knew you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow.

"Who's body is this, babygirl? Tell me. Who's the only fuckin' person who gets to fuck this pussy? An' make her cum?"

You slightly tilted your head to look at him better while your trembling hands held on to his arms.

"It's your body, daddy. Only yours to look at and fuck."

He pressed down on your hips in order to trap you between his body and the car and then he finally came for the second time tonight and let out a deep grunt.

"Hell, yeah. That's it…"

Joel slowed down until he didn't move inside of you anymore but he didn't pull out yet. You on the other hand were hit by your post-orgasm blues and tightly clung to his arms while trying to turn around.

Suddenly you craved his presence and touch so badly that you let out a desperate cry and searched for his eyes. At some point Joel's gaze moved to your face and he noticed how needy you were. First he chuckled lowly but then he actually pulled out of you and turned your weak body around.

Your hands immediately moved to his chest and your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt while you pressed your face in the crouch of his neck.

"Baby…," he murmured and placed a hand on the back of your head.

Fearing that he might reject you or remove your hands from him you shook your head and thought that nothing could separate you from him right now. His big hand cradled your head and then his other hand wrapped around your back.

"Oh babygirl," he hummed and kissed your brow. "Look at me for a second."

You anxiously looked up to him but didn't move an inch away from his strong chest.

"Lemme get ya home. Then we can cuddle, alright?"

"N-No," you whimpered feeling as though letting go of him would be the worst thing that could happen right now but his hands firmly grabbed your shoulders.

"You know it's not a long drive. You're gonna get a cold if we'll stay here any longer. Just gonna drive us home and then you can go straight to bed."

You hesitated for a moment and questioningly watched him.

"Are you gonna stay with me, daddy?"

He smiled and a warmth filled your stomach. Or maybe it was the butterflies that were woken up. In either case, you realized how much you had missed his smile.

"Of course, babygirl. Gonna stay with ya all night."

You nodded slowly and took the hand he offered you. Although you felt a stitch in your stomach when you straightened up and immediately missed hearing his heartbeat, you allowed Joel to lead you to the other side of the car and entered it once he had opened the door.

Then within seconds he sat next to you and watched your face with warm eyes.

"You know I love ya, mhm?" he said with a low voice and you nodded while toying with your fingers.

"I love you too."

He started the car.

"Don't forget that, darlin'. Never."

#joel miller smut #the last of us smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou

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rafesbuzzcutseason · 17 hours ago

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chasing city lights

chapter 6 - you look good

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: lanuguage

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you headed out of bed and made your way downstairs to where everyone was having breakfast, a rush of nerves taking over you entered the room, searching for the group.

you could feel rafe's gaze on you before you even looked in his direction, and when you did, you could see his eyes narrow, his look unreadable.

"there you are!" sarah spoke, "thought we were gonna have to leave without you." she laughed.

"don't be silly i just needed my beauty sleep." you laughed back. "what's the plan for today?"

"thought we could have a walk around a bit before we had to drive back?" cleo asked.

"sounds good" you said as you grabbed some pastries. "you gonna come rafe?" you asked him directly as he was yet to address you.

"i will if you are" he said quietly, making your heart skip a beat, his remark not going unoticed by the rest of the group.

jj cleared his throat, and a small smile played on sarah's lips, enjoying the small interaction between the two of you. "alright lets get going then, you guys ready?" she said.

"yeah lets go" topper said bluntly, a shift in his usual upbeat demeanour, but he quickly bounced back as you all made your way outside.

after a few hours walking around, you all made your way back to the hotel to pack up your things and get ready for the drive home. the boys had a flight to san francisco for their show before they were headed to LA for their last nights on tour there.

you had all made a rough plan to fly out to LA for the last show, making sure the whole group was there to celebrate the end of tour.

as everyone made their ways to their rooms, you hung behind with rafe, walking slower than the rest of the group, intenitally from you, and hoping it was for rafe also.

"how are you feeling to be finishing the tour?" you asked him, breaking the silence.

"sad, but ready for a long break and to spend some time at home" he replied leaning against the door as everyone got into their rooms.

you nodded understandingly, "LA will be good though. it'll be my first time there."

"no way? i'm gonna have to show you around then." he responded smugly.

"yeah?" you pushed.

"yeah." he smiled, "can't have you lost in the streets of LA now can we?" his height meaning he had to lean closer to you to get his words across.

"i guess we can't."

"i'm happy you're gonna be there." he added

"you are?'

"course." he responded quickly. "always nice to know there's a pretty girl in the crowd cheering me on." and with that, he turned away from you and made his way to his own room, leaving you flustered and stuck in your stance, taking in his words. pretty girl?

as you went to open the door, it flung open and sarah dragged you in.

"oh my god not to be a CREEP but i heard that all" she said excitedly. "y/n he likes you. i knew it i knew it!" she shut the door with an exagerated slam, not even giving you time to process what just happened.

"lord sarah what just happened." your voice barely above a whisper.

"he literally just called you pretty. i KNEW he was acting different around you, he's been so nervous." she squealed.

"are you sure it wasn't just rafe being rafe?"

"stop right there. look i'm not blind. it all makes sense now, the way he's always looking at you. i just thought he was trying to figure out his opinion on you, but he likes you. rafe isn't the type to throw out compliments like that, he's always playing it cool, he doesn't care about anything. but the way he just spoke to you? that was different"

"you don't mind?" you asked nervously.

"i would if i hadn't got to know you like i do now. i'm so protective of him and his whack ass fans, but i love you y/n, you've become my best friend in such a short time, i want you happy, and i want my brother happy. do you like him?"

"fuck, maybe. what does this mean?"

"i don't know, but i know LA is about to get a whole lot more interesting." she grinned. "come on let's hit the road and chat with the girls. we need to come up with a plan."

and with that, you finished packing and headed out the door, making your way to the car for the long drive home, where you were sure a lot would be unpacked.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: feeding you all today, felt the slowburn needed to be RESOLVED. anyway just wanted to clarify you can tell who's ig story it is by the profile pic as i'm not sure if that was clear or not my bad

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation

#smau #obx #rafe cameron #obxsmau #boyfriend rafe #outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #chasing city lights

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scarletwinterxx · 1 day ago

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i only think of you, will we be together soon? - choi seungcheol scenario

soooo hellooo ~ this is just a quick epilogue/pt 2 of the seungcheol scenario i wrote, you can read it here. I just thought i should atleast write their first kiss🥺🥺🥺 and it's soooo cute. anyways i hope you like it🤍

for my other svt fics, check them here

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

It was an unusual sight—Seungcheol sleeping in on a weekend.

Usually, he'd be up early, either at the gym or getting a head start on errands. But today, he was sprawled across his bed, face buried in his pillow, the blanket barely covering his bare back. His room was dim, the only light filtering through the gap in his curtains.

When you let yourself into his apartment, calling out his name and getting no response, you knew exactly where to find him. Quietly opening the door to his bedroom, you peeked in, finding him sound asleep. His hair was a mess, his broad shoulders rising and falling with his deep breaths.

A mischievous grin spread across your face. Creeping toward the bed, you carefully climbed onto it, trying not to wake him too soon. Then, without warning, you flopped onto his back, draping yourself over him like a blanket.

"Cheol," you called softly, your voice sing-song as you poked his shoulder. "Wake up~."

He groaned into his pillow, his voice muffled but clearly displeased. "Five more minutes..."

"Nope," you chirped, wiggling a little to get comfortable on top of him. "I need you to drive me somewhere!"

He cracked one eye open, groaning again as he turned his head slightly. "Where?" His voice was raspy, thick with sleep, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing.

"The dog café!" you announced, resting your chin on his shoulder. "I’ve been wanting to go, and you promised you’d take me!"

He sighed dramatically, though there was no real annoyance behind it. "Why can’t you let me sleep in peace?"

"Because you’re Seungcheol, and you love me,"

The smile on your face growing, since that moment at the beach there's this blanket of unspoken feelings that doesn't really need to said because at the end of the day he knows you and you know him.

At that, he cracked a small smile, though his eyes were still closed. "You’re lucky I do."

He shifted beneath you, effortlessly flipping over so you were lying on his chest instead of his back. His arms lazily wrapped around you, trapping you in place.

"Cheol, you’re supposed to be getting up," you protested, though you didn’t try to move

"Mm," he hummed, pulling you closer. "Five minutes. Then we’ll go to your dog café."

"That’s what you said before!"

He chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling through his chest. "Yeah, but this time I mean it."

You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to win. But as he held you, his warmth and steady heartbeat lulling you into comfort, you figured maybe five more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

After Seungcheol finally got out of bed (which, in reality, took more than just five minutes), the two of you headed out to the dog café you’d been pestering him about all week. He still looked groggy as he drove, his hair tousled and his hoodie lazily thrown on.

"You’re lucky I like dogs," he muttered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as you excitedly bounced in the passenger seat.

"You’re lucky you like *me*," you shot back with a grin, hugging your knees to your chest as you turned to face him.

He just shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

When you arrived, the café was bustling with happy barks and wagging tails. The moment you stepped inside, a small golden retriever puppy trotted up to you, wagging its tail so hard it looked like it might take off.

"Oh my God, Cheol, look at this baby!" you squealed, crouching down to pet the dog. The puppy immediately rolled onto its back, demanding belly rubs, which you happily obliged.

Seungcheol stood nearby, watching you with a fond expression as you giggled and cooed over the dog. "You’re worse than the dogs," he teased, crossing his arms.

"Excuse me? They’re adorable!" you retorted, looking up at him from your spot on the floor.

He crouched down beside you, scratching behind the puppy’s ears. "Yeah, they are," he admitted, his voice softer now.

You spent the next hour playing with various dogs, from energetic beagles to sleepy bulldogs, while Seungcheol alternated between joining in and watching you from a distance. At one point, a particularly bold corgi jumped into his lap, and you nearly cried laughing at the sight of big, tough Seungcheol awkwardly trying to balance the squirming dog.

"Cheol, you look so cute," you teased, snapping a picture on your phone.

He gave you a mock glare. "Delete that."

"Nope," you said, grinning mischievously.

When it was finally time to leave, you reluctantly said goodbye to the dogs, practically dragging your feet as Seungcheol led you back to the car.

"Happy now?" he asked as he opened the passenger door for you

"Very," you said, your face still lit up with joy.

As he got into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at you, shaking his head with a smile. "You’re such a kid."

"And yet, here you are," you replied, sticking your tongue out at him.

He laughed, shaking his head again. "Yeah, here I am," he said softly, as if to himself.

Then, with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console, he added, "Let me know when you want to go again."

Your heart fluttered a little at his words, but you played it off, leaning your head back against the seat with a satisfied sigh. "You’re the best, Cheol."

He didn’t say anything, but the smile on his face as he drove you home spoke volumes.

Since he went with you to the dog cafe, it only felt right to go with him too if he wants to do something he likes. Unlucky for you, Seungcheol lives an active lifestyle.

Seungcheol chuckled as he watched you trudge behind him on the trail, your arms crossed and a dramatic pout plastered on your face.

The usually peaceful sound of nature was interrupted by the crunch of your footsteps and the occasional sigh you let out. He stopped to let you catch up, turning to look at your grumpy expression.

“You hate it that much?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You nodded like a child, your bottom lip jutting out even more. “I hate it,” you grumbled. “The bugs, the sweating, the uphill part—ugh, especially the uphill part.”

He laughed softly and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You could’ve just said so, baby. I wouldn’t have forced you.”

You shook your head, looking down at the ground. “But you wanted me to join you,” you mumbled. “And you always try out my hobbies, so I figured I should try yours too.”

Seungcheol’s grin softened into something warmer as he stepped closer, his hands gently settling on your shoulders. “Yah,” he said, his tone tender, “you didn’t have to do this just for me. I don’t want you to be miserable.”

“I’m not miserable,” you argued halfheartedly, though your pout betrayed you. “I’m just… not enjoying it.”

That made him laugh again. He bent down slightly to meet your eyes. “Let’s turn back, hmm? We can go grab something to eat instead. How does that sound?”

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Really? You’re not upset?”

“How could I be upset when you’re this cute?” he said, pinching your cheek lightly. “You tried for me, and that means a lot. But next time, I’ll make sure we do something we both enjoy.”

You smiled, your pout finally replaced with a more genuine expression. “Okay. But no more hiking.”

“No more hiking,” he promised, taking your hand as the two of you turned back down the trail. “But I’ll probably still tease you about this for the rest of your life.”

“Cheol!” You groaned, and he laughed, his grip on your hand tightening as he led you back toward the car, already thinking of how to spoil you for putting up with his hobby.

It was one of those rare, lazy afternoons when the group was hanging out at Jeonghan’s place, sprawled across his living room in varying states of relaxation.

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, quietly sipping on your drink, while Seungcheol sat beside you, one arm casually slung across the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder.

Jeonghan, ever the instigator, watched the two of you with a knowing glint in his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked. “So,” he started, drawing out the word like it was some grand announcement. “Are you two, like, officially a couple now?”

You froze mid-sip, eyes darting to Seungcheol. He didn’t even flinch, just let out a small exhale through his nose as if he’d been expecting the question.

“I mean...” he began, his voice trailing off as he scratched the back of his neck, his gaze flicking to you for a split second before settling back on Jeonghan.

“What kind of answer is that?” Jeonghan said, feigning exasperation. “You either are or you aren’t.”

Seungkwan, perched on the armrest of a nearby chair, chimed in, his grin wide. “Yeah, hyung, spill it. The suspense is killing us.”

You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyperaware of Seungcheol’s hand now fully resting on your shoulder. “I—uh—” you stammered, unsure of what to say.

Seungcheol finally turned his head to look at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Whatever she wants us to be,” he said simply, his tone steady but laced with something unspoken.

The room went silent for a beat before Jeonghan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “That’s not an answer, Cheol!”

Seungkwan burst into laughter, clapping his hands. “I swear, you two are impossible.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, but Seungcheol just chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder in reassurance.

“I think we’re doing just fine,” he said calmly, shooting Jeonghan a pointed look that clearly said, *drop it.*

Jeonghan raised his hands in surrender, though the smirk never left his face. “Fine, fine. But don’t think I’m not keeping an eye on you two.”

As the conversation shifted to another topic, you glanced at Seungcheol, your lips twitching into a small, shy smile. He caught your gaze and leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ve got this... whatever *this* is.”

And somehow, that was all the reassurance you needed.

Later he drives you home, the hum of the car engine was the only sound filling the space between you and Seungcheol. The evening air was cool, and the faint smell of his cologne lingered in the car, you fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket you were wearing, the fabric too big for you but warm and comforting, much like the man sitting next to you.

“So…” you started, your voice timid, breaking the silence. “Are we like… what are we…”

You trailed off, unsure how to word the question that had been buzzing in your head since Jeonghan’s teasing earlier.

Seungcheol glanced at you briefly, his expression calm, but you could see the flicker of something softer in his eyes. He kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the armrest. “You don’t have to overthink their question,” he said gently. “No rush…”

“Yeah, but I want to know too,” you mumbled quietly, almost shyly, cutting him off before he could finish.

His grip on the wheel tightened just a fraction, and he let out a soft exhale. He pulled the car to a stop at a red light, finally turning his full attention to you.

You were twiddling with the sleeve of his jacket, your fingers nervously tugging at the fabric. That familiar pout was back, the one he could never seem to resist.

“Y/N…” he started, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You peeked up at him, your eyes big and vulnerable, and it hit him again—how deep he was, how there was no getting out of this even if he wanted to.

“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dipping lower.

You nodded, your teeth catching your bottom lip nervously.

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze steady on yours. “You’re…” He hesitated for a brief second before letting the words fall out. “You’re the person I think about first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. You’re the one I’d drop everything for, no questions asked. And you’re the only one I want sitting next to me, wearing my jacket, pouting at me like that.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by his sudden honesty.

“So, what are we?” he continued, his lips quirking into the smallest smile. “We’re whatever you want us to be. But if it’s up to me…” He reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours. “We’re already everything.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket. “Cheol…”

The light turned green, but he didn’t move the car immediately, his eyes still locked on you. “So?” he prompted, his tone lighter now. “What are we, Y/N?”

You gave him a shy smile, your fingers brushing against his. “I think we’re everything too,” you whispered.

He grinned then, that dimpled, boyish grin that made your chest feel tight. “Good,” he said simply, as if that was all he needed to hear.

And with that, he shifted gears and drove on, the air between you lighter but filled with an unspoken promise.

The quiet of the evening wrapped around you both as Seungcheol walked you to your apartment. The city was alive in the distance, but here, on the dimly lit stairs leading to your door, it was just the two of you.

You stopped at the top, turning to him as he stood a step below, his broad shoulders at perfect height for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers naturally found their way to the ends of his hair, twisting the soft strands between them.

He looked up at you, his dark eyes warm and fond, his dimples making an appearance as he gave you that small, knowing smile. “What?” he asked, his voice quiet but teasing, like he already knew what you were going to say.

You smiled back, tilting your head slightly as if studying his face. “Nothing,” you said, your voice soft, your heart full. “I love you.”

For a moment, his smile faltered—not from doubt, but from the overwhelming warmth that bloomed across his chest.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned closer, the space between you shrinking as his lips brushed yours in the softest, most tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It was steady and gentle, like the beginning of something infinite.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand lifting to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low but certain.

You couldn’t help but smile again, leaning into his touch, your forehead resting lightly against his. “Good,” you whispered, your fingers still playing with his hair.

His lips quirked into another grin, his dimples deepening. “Good,” he echoed softly, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. Then he kisses you again.

And in that quiet moment, on the top of those stairs, it was as though the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was just you, Seungcheol, and the unspoken promise that this—whatever it was—was everything you’d both ever need.

#fic #story #svt #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen scoups #seventeen fluff #seventeen x y/n #svt imagine #svt fluff #svt scenario #choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagine #seungcheol scenario #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol boyfriend #scoup imagine #scoups fluff

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mattsobvimyfav · 2 days ago

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Different (Matthew Sturniolo)

When Y/N starts college, she's eager for a fresh start and new opportunities. Assigned a partner for a lab, she meets Matthew Sturniolo, who seems charming and capable at first glance. But as their partnership progresses, Y/N begins to uncover unsettling truths about Matthew's character, throwing her college journey entirely off.

part 2

A month had passed, and things had settled into a comfortable rhythm. School was still a grind, but with the first few weeks behind me, I was finally finding my balance. Matt and Chris had become a regular part of my days—more than just classmates, they were now part of my circle.

Matt and I were partners in lab now, a decision made by sheer luck in the seating arrangement that had somehow worked out perfectly. Our conversations, which used to be casual, had grown more comfortable, a little flirtatious even, though I never took it too seriously.

Today was different. We had a big experiment to finish in lab, one that was taking longer than expected. My concentration was waning, my mind starting to wander. Matt was across the table from me, meticulously measuring out the chemicals for our next step, his brow furrowed in concentration. I sat back, waiting for him to finish up, tapping my pen against the lab notebook in front of me.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence as I scribbled another note on the lab sheet. “Could you grab me the beaker from the shelf? I think we’re almost ready to mix this.”

Matt glanced over at me, his eyes sharp but with a teasing glint. “Which shelf?”

I pointed lazily to the far side of the room, where a row of shelves lined the wall. “The one next to the Bunsen burners.”

He got up from his stool, standing tall as he stretched slightly. “Alright, but…” His voice trailed off as he turned to look at me, a mischievous smirk forming on his lips. “What’s in it for me?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, playing along. “In it for you? It’s called teamwork, Matt.”

He chuckled, the sound low and easy, “Yeah, yeah, teamwork. But maybe I need a little incentive this time.”

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Incentive? What, you want me to do your part of the write-up or something?”

Matt stopped in his tracks, turning back to face me fully. His smirk deepened, and there was something in his expression—something daring and cocky—that made me sit up straighter. “Nah, I’ve got a better idea,” he said, his tone casual but edged with amusement. “I’ll grab the beaker if you give me head.”

The words hit me like a shockwave, and for a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. My eyes widened as I processed what he’d just said. “What?” I asked, my voice caught between disbelief and laughter.

“You heard me,” Matt said, leaning casually against the edge of the table, his arms crossed. He was grinning now, clearly enjoying my reaction. “I’ll get the beaker if you… you know.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with me. Judging by the way his grin hadn’t faltered, he wasn’t backing down.

“Oh, really?” I said, finally recovering from my initial shock. I leaned forward, meeting his gaze head-on. “That’s your price? A little bold, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, still smirking. “Hey, I’m just saying. A fair trade, right?”

I could feel a smirk forming on my own lips now, fueled by the ridiculousness of the situation. Two could play this game. “Alright, Matt,” I said coolly, leaning back in my chair. “Go grab the beaker.”

His grin faltered slightly, and he tilted his head at me, “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug, keeping my tone nonchalant even though my heart was pounding.

Matt’s expression shifted from amused to something more cautious, like he was trying to figure out if I was bluffing. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

I met his gaze without flinching, my smirk unwavering. “Yeah?”

There was a long pause as Matt stared at me, his confidence seemingly wavering for the first time. He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Alright then.”

He grabbed the beaker and brought it back to our station, setting it down with a soft clink.

“See?” I said, picking up the beaker and placing it carefully on the rack. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He laughed again, looking down at his pants and smirking. “Harder than you think.”

I shrugged, focusing on the lab work in front of me as though nothing had happened. “You’ll live, Matt. Let’s finish this before we blow something up.”

“Nah, I’d actually love to see you blow something.”

“Die.” I deadpanned and he laughed hard.

We left the lab together, the sun starting to set as we walked out into the parking lot. Matt’s car was parked in its usual spot.

“You want shotgun or the trunk?” Matt asked with a smirk, unlocking the doors.

“Wow, such a gentleman,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat. “How do girls resist you?”

“They don't,” he replied, shrugging as he plopped into the driver’s seat.

As soon as he started the car, he reached into the console and pulled out his rolling kit. It was a well-practiced routine by now—grinding the weed, spreading it evenly onto the paper. I watched him without meaning to, my gaze lingering as he carefully rolled the blunt.

And then he licked the edge of the paper to seal it.

I froze for a second, feeling heat creep up my neck. The way his tongue ran along the edge, slow and deliberate, sent a ripple of uninvited thoughts through my mind. I tried to shake them off, but my body betrayed me, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

“Relax,” Matt said without looking up, grinning as if he could sense the tension. “It’s just a blunt.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled, tearing my eyes away and staring out the window.

Since hanging out with Matt and Chris, I’d been smoking a lot more than I ever thought I would. The haze of weed had become a regular backdrop to our conversations and late-night drives, and I’d started to crave the quiet calm it brought, even when Matt’s presence kept me on edge.

He lit the blunt and took a deep drag, exhaling smoothly as he turned up the music. The bass-heavy beat filled the car, and I let the sound drown out my wandering thoughts.

“Hungry?” he asked after a moment, glancing over at me.

“Always,” I said, already knowing where this was headed.

“Drive-thru or sit-down?”

“Drive-thru,” I said quickly. The idea of being in public right now, especially after that blunt, sounded exhausting.

“Good call,” he said, taking another hit before passing the blunt to me. “Where to?”

“Anywhere with fries,” I said, taking the blunt from him and inhaling. The smoke filled my lungs, and I felt the tension in my body start to melt away.

We pulled into the drive-thru as the sky darkened around us. By the time we had the bags of greasy goodness in the car, the smell alone was enough to make my mouth water.

“Fries first,” Matt said, shoving a handful into his mouth before pulling out of the lot.

“You’re an animal,” I said,

“An animal who shares,” he replied, holding out a fry in front of my mouth.

I laughed, biting it from his hand. “Generous. I’ll give you that.”

We drove in comfortable silence for a while, the music playing softly as we ate. Every so often, Matt would make a sarcastic comment about something in a song I picked or the random people we passed on the street.

By the time we got back to my place, the blunt was long gone, and my buzz was in full effect. Matt pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, turning to me with that familiar smirk.

“Who’s your favorite chauffeur, huh?” he said.

“You, of course Matthew,” I tapped his chest as I opened the door.

He leaned back in his seat, watching me. “That’s all I get?”

I grinned, stepping out of the car. “See you tomorrow, Matt.”

“Later, Y/N.”

I shut the door behind me, heading inside.

A couple hours later I was sprawled across my bed, lazily scrolling through my phone when it buzzed in my hand. Matt’s name lit up the screen.

“Hey,” I answered, sitting up slightly.

“Hey,” his voice came through, casual and smooth, but there was a hint of something teasing in his tone, as always. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing much,” I replied. “Why?”

“Chris and I are just hanging out. Thought you might want to come over. Chill, watch a movie or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

“Cool,” Matt replied. “Bring yourself, and maybe some snacks if you’re feeling generous.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No.”

After we hung up, I shuffled over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. Comfort was key, especially if we were just lounging around. I quickly changed, grabbed my keys, and headed out.

The drive to Matt and Chris’ place was short, and by now, familiar. I parked in the driveway and made my way up to the door, knocking once before letting myself in.

The scent of weed hit me almost immediately, and I wasn’t surprised to see Chris sitting on the couch, a joint in one hand and a controller in the other. Matt was lounging in the chair nearby, scrolling through his phone.

“Look who decided to show up,” Matt said with a grin, glancing up at me.

“Lucky you,” I shot back, closing the door behind me.

Chris looked over, offering a nod in greeting. “What’s up, Y/N?”

“Not much,” I said, plopping onto the couch beside him. As I glanced around, I noticed something—or rather, someone—was missing. “Where’s Charlie?”

Chris shrugged, taking a drag from the joint. “Haven’t seen her in a couple of days. She’s been acting all secretive lately. Weird vibes, you know?”

I frowned. Charlie had been doing the same to me, Ignoring me, not hanging out. “Secretive how?”

“Like… I don’t know,” Chris said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “She’s just been off. Doesn’t say much, dips early when she is around.”

Matt chimed in from the chair. “She’s probably just dealing with some shit. People get like that sometimes.”

I nodded.

“Well, if you hear anything, let me know,” I said, settling deeper into the couch.

Chris nodded. “For sure.”

“So,” Matt said, clapping his hands together and standing up. “What kind of movie are we watching tonight, Y/N? Your pick.”

I thought for a moment, scrolling through the mental list of my favorite genres. “Horror,” I said finally.

Matt raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Horror? Didn’t peg you as the type.”

“You will never peg me, and why the fuck not?” I challenged.

He shrugged. “I will,” he joked back, “but you just don’t seem like the ‘scare-me-stupid’ kind of person.”

Chris chuckled. “Nah, she seems like a ‘fuck-me-stupid type of person.”

“Shut up,” I said, throwing a pillow at him.

“Alright, horror it is,” Matt said, walking over to the TV. He started scrolling through a streaming service, muttering titles under his breath. “The Conjuring? Hereditary? Oh, how about Evil Dead?”

“Evil Dead,” I said quickly. “Classic.”

Matt grinned. “Good choice.”

As he queued up the movie, I kicked off my shoes and got comfortable on the couch. Chris passed me the joint, and I took a small hit, letting the smoke calm my nerves.

The movie started, and the room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional crack of a soda can or the crunch of chips. I tried to focus on the screen, but my attention kept drifting. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the warmth of the room, or the way Matt occasionally glanced over at me with that ever-present smirk.

By the time the first jump scare hit, Chris laughed loudly as I flinched, but Matt just leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

“Not scared, huh?” Matt teased, glancing over at me.

I rolled my eyes, pulling the blanket up to my chin. “It’s a good movie. That’s all.”

“Sure it is,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The movie ended with the final screams of the protagonist echoing in the room, and Chris stretched, letting out a yawn. “That was solid,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m beat.”

I checked the time on my phone and realized how late it had gotten. “Yeah, I'll probably get going,” I said, standing up and stretching.

Chris shook his head, sitting up on the couch. “Why? We’ve got class together tomorrow. Just stay over. We’ll all head out in the morning.”

I hesitated, my mind immediately running through excuses. “I don’t have any clothes, though. And I need to shower.”

Matt, who had been lounging in the armchair, glanced over at me with a casual shrug. “You can shower here. It’s not a big deal. I can find you some pajamas or something.”

Before I could respond, Chris jumped in, smirking. “Yeah, and you could borrow one of my shirts or sweatshirts for tomorrow.”

I raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. “You guys are really selling this sleepover idea.”

Chris grinned, leaning back on the couch. “What can I say? We’re great hosts. Plus, it’s way easier than driving home and then having to meet us again tomorrow.”

Matt nodded in agreement. “He’s got a point. Might as well save yourself the trouble.”

I bit my lip, still unsure. I hadn’t exactly planned for a sleepover, but they did make a good argument. And the thought of not having to deal with the early morning drive was tempting.

“Fine,” I said finally, crossing my arms. “But I’m showering before bed, and I’m borrowing something decent to wear. Not some of the ugly shit I see you guys wear.”

Matt smirked, standing up and stretching. “Deal. I’ll grab you a pair of shorts and a shirt.”

I followed him down the hall to grab whatever he was offering, and a part of me couldn’t help but smile at how casual the whole thing was.

I stood under the hot spray of the shower, letting the stress of the day wash away. The warmth was soothing.

After rinsing out the shampoo and washing off the remnants of the day, I stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. Matt’s shirt—a soft, slightly oversized band tee—was folded neatly on the counter. I slipped it over my head, the fabric falling just below my butt, brushing against the tops of my thighs. It smelled like him—woodsy cologne with a faint hint of something sweet.

I debated for a second before ultimately deciding to forgo the shorts. The shirt was long enough to cover everything, and I hate wearing pants to bed. It felt comfortable, casual.

When I walked out of the bathroom, the cool air hit my damp skin, sending a small shiver down my spine. I made my way to Matt’s room and pushed the door open without knocking.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling on his phone, but he looked up when I walked in. His gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.

“Here,” he said, holding out a hairbrush. “You’ll want this. Can’t have you looking like a wet dog in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes but took the brush from his hand, plopping down at his desk. The mirror above it reflected my image, and I started brushing through my damp hair, wincing at the occasional tangle.

Matt leaned back on his bed, his eyes still on me. “You know,” he said after a moment, his tone lighter, teasing, “you look really good in my clothes.”

I paused, lifting my arms to brush through the underside of my hair. The motion made the shirt rise slightly, exposing more of my thighs. When I glanced in the mirror, Matt’s gaze had shifted downward.

I smirked, lowering the brush. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk of his. “But I bet you’d look even better without them.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Subtle as always, Matt.”

He grinned, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What? Just speaking the truth. You can’t blame me for appreciating your body.”

“Well, appreciate it from over there,” I shot back, brushing through another section of my hair.

“Fine,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you can’t be mad when I keep staring. You’re the one walking around in my shirt with no pants on.”

“It’s long enough to count as a dress,” I countered.

“A very short dress,” he corrected, leaning back on his hands. “One wrong move, and—”

“Alright, enough,” I said, turning to glare at him, though I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “You’re worse than Chris.”

He laughed, tilting his head. “Nah, Chris would’ve already made some dumbass comment about being a ‘gentleman’ and offering to help you into bed.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “You guys are the worst.”

“Maybe,” Matt admitted, standing up and walking over to me. He leaned against the desk, his proximity making the room feel even smaller. “But you keep coming around, so we can’t be that bad.”

I looked up at him, still holding the brush in my hand. “You’re the lucky one, Matt.”

“Lucky’s one word for it,” he said, his voice dropping slightly.

The air between us shifted, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure what was happening. But then he smiled, breaking the tension. “Hurry up, I want you in my bed”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the mirror and resuming my brushing. Matt lingered for a moment before stepping back toward his bed.

I finished brushing through my hair, smoothing it down before setting the brush on the desk. When I turned, Matt was sprawled out on his bed, his arm resting casually behind his head.

The faint glow of red LED lights around his TV cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones. He looked unreal, like something out of a book—effortlessly attractive, and entirely too aware of it.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you getting in?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

I rolled my eyes but walked over, slipping under the covers on the side of the bed he wasn’t occupying. The sheets were soft, I kept a little distance between us, settling on my side, but my heart was racing for reasons I couldn’t fully explain.

The red glow bathed everything in warmth, but it only seemed to make the space between us feel more charged. I could feel Matt’s presence next to me, his body heat radiating in the small gap we’d left.

I tried to focus on anything else, but my mind betrayed me, looping back to the moments I’d caught myself staring at him, how his hands looked when he rolled a blunt, the way his lips curved when he smirked, the tattoos that peeked out from beneath his sleeves.

I hadn’t allowed myself to linger on those thoughts before, but now, in the quiet intimacy of his room, they consumed me.

I shifted slightly, glancing over at him. He was propped up on one elbow now, watching me with a lazy smirk that made my stomach twist.

“What?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

“You,” he said simply, his eyes glinting in the red light. “You’re all stiff. Relax.”

“I’m relaxed,” I countered, though the tension in my body betrayed me.

He didn’t reply, just kept watching me, his gaze heavy. It was as if he could see right through me, see the way my thoughts were spiraling. I tried to look away, but he reached out, his fingers brushing against my chin, gently turning my face back toward him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.

“Like what?” I asked, though my voice wavered.

“Like you want me,” he said, his smirk widening.

I swallowed hard, my brain scrambling for a response, but before I could think of one, he leaned in, closing the small gap between us. His lips brushed against mine, tentative at first, as if he was waiting for me to pull away.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned into him, my hand instinctively reaching up to rest on his chest. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to the small of my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. His lips were warm and soft, moving against mine with a mix of patience and hunger that left me breathless.

The red glow of the lights seemed to pulse around us, painting the room in a haze that felt almost dreamlike. I let myself get lost in the moment, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his hand trailed along my side, just beneath the hem of the one I was wearing.

“Y/N,” he murmured against my lips, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down my spine.

I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, my breathing unsteady. His eyes were darker now.

He smiled, his hand shifting slightly, his thumb brushing against the bare skin of my waist. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curving into a small smile. “Me? Dangerous? You’re the one who started this.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss me again. “But you’re the one who’s making it impossible to stop.”

And for the rest of the night, I didn’t want him to.

The soft rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting streaks of warm light across Matt’s room. I blinked against the brightness, groaning softly as I shifted beneath the covers. My body was heavy with sleep, but my mind was wide awake, replaying the events of the previous night like a broken record.

Matt was still asleep beside me, sprawled out on his stomach with one arm hanging off the bed. His dark hair was a messy tangle, and his face was half-buried in the pillow, making his sharp features seem softer in the morning light. He looked so peaceful, so unlike the cocky, teasing version of him I was used to.

But that wasn’t what had my attention. No, my thoughts were stuck on the way his lips felt against mine, the way his hands had skimmed over my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn’t get enough.

I let out a quiet sigh, staring up at the ceiling. It wasn’t like I had feelings for Matt. That wasn’t what this was about. But damn, the guy could kiss.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I replayed the way he’d leaned in, the way his touch had sent little shocks through my body. It wasn’t just the physicality of it—it was the way he seemed so confident, like he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what I wanted.

I wondered, fleetingly, what else he was good at.

The thought made my cheeks heat, and I rolled onto my side, burying my face in the pillow to hide from my own embarrassment. It wasn’t like I was planning to find out. Last night had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, fueled by proximity and a little too much unspoken tension.

I let out another sigh, forcing myself to sit up. The oversized shirt I’d borrowed from him slipped off one shoulder, the fabric soft against my skin. My hair was still slightly damp from last night’s shower, and I ran a hand through it, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep and the memories threatening to take over.

Beside me, Matt stirred, his head turning slightly on the pillow. For a moment, I thought he might wake up, but he just let out a soft groan and shifted, settling back into his slumber.

Shaking my head, I slid out of bed as quietly as I could. My legs felt wobbly, a mix of morning stiffness and the remnants of whatever spell he’d cast over me the night before.

I was in the middle of pulling on my biker shorts when the door creaked open. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Chris standing in the doorway, his eyebrows raising slightly as he took in the scene.

“Well, don’t stop on my account,” he said, his smirk immediate.

“Chris,” I said flatly, covering my chest as I reached for my sports bra. “Ever heard of knocking?”

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe like he had no intention of leaving. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I’m just appreciating the view.”

Sliding the straps of my bra over my shoulders, I gave him a pointed look. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to be saying that kind of thing to?”

Chris grinned, unabashed. “Sure, but sharing isn’t wrong, right? You look good, Y/N—just saying.”

“Shut up.” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as I grabbed my hair tie, securing my messy hair into a loose bun. “If you’re done being a creep, what do you want?”

He walked over, holding out a black zip-up hoodie. “Figured you might want something warmer, and this is a classic. Looks good on everyone.”

I shook my head, pulling on the hoodie and zipping it halfway, letting the band of my sports bra peek through. “There. Happy now?”

Chris tilted his head, giving me a once-over. “Very. You wear it well, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah you just said it looks good on everyone. Now go wake up your brother.”

Chris laughed, turning toward Matt’s bed. He nudged Matt’s shoulder, earning a muffled groan in response. “Yo, wake up, kid. We’re gonna be late, and I can’t keep Y/N entertained all morning.”

Matt turned his head, groggy eyes narrowing as he looked at Chris. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Chris smirked, jerking his thumb back toward me. “I’m just saying you better get at that soon before I do.”

Matt’s eyes flicked to me for a moment, taking in the sight of me in Chris’s hoodie. He blinked, his expression unreadable before he groaned and buried his face back into the pillow. “You’re both annoying. Leave me alone.”

Chris laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon, man. Don’t sleep on this opportunity.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as I leaned against the desk. “Are you done playing matchmaker? Because I’m about to leave both of you behind.”

Chris raised his hands in surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone. But seriously, Matt, get up.”

As Chris left the room, I leaned back in the chair, adjusting the hoodie and smirking to myself. Boys were exhausted, but at least they were entertaining.

The drive to class was quiet for the most part. Matt was behind the wheel, one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel while the other rested on the gearshift. Chris sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the aux cord to pick a playlist, while I sat in the back, watching the world blur past through the window.

“Y/N, what do you wanna listen to?” Chris asked, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Anything but country,” I replied, leaning back against the seat.

Chris turned back around “Glad we are on the same page.”

“Play something calm though. It’s early.” I said back, earning a chuckle from Matt.

“She’s got a point,” Matt said, smirking as Chris put on the neighborhood, earning a grin from me.

The rest of the ride was filled with music and light banter. When we pulled into the parking lot, Chris hopped out first, holding the door open for me with a mock bow. “After you, princess.”

“Thank yew,” I quipped, stepping out and adjusting my bag.

Matt locked the car, and the three of us headed to class together, slipping into our usual seats near the back of the lecture hall. The room filled quickly, and just as the professor was setting up, Charlie walked in.

Before she even had the chance to sit down, Chris was already on his feet. “Hallway. Now,” he said, his voice steady, leaving no room for argument.

Charlie blinked, caught off guard, but didn’t protest. She just sighed and followed him out of the lecture hall.

Matt shot me a look, and I shrugged. Five minutes passed, and my patience ran out. I nudged him. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t hesitate. We slipped out quietly, finding them a few doors down. Their voices were low but carried just enough for us to hear.

“I don’t know what’s been up with you, but I’m not playing this game,” Chris said, his tone completely even. Not angry. Not upset. Just done.

Charlie huffed. “What game?”

Chris let out a breath like this was exhausting. “You’ve been weird all week. Distant. Off. I’m not about to sit around and guess what’s going on. That’s not me.”

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” she tried, her voice tight.

“Cool,” Chris said. “Then you can handle it without me.”

Silence stretched between them. Matt shifted beside me, and Chris glanced over, catching us. His face didn’t hold any annoyance, just something like relief. “Are you ready to leave? Im not sitting in this fuck ass class today.” he asked us.

“Yeah.” I stepped into view without hesitation.

We got back to Matt and Chris’s place without much conversation. Chris didn’t seem to care about the breakup at all—if anything, he looked more relaxed than I’d seen him in days. Matt grabbed a beer from the fridge, tossing one to Chris, and I settled onto the arm of the couch, still trying to process everything.

“So that’s just it?” I asked, looking at Chris.

He cracked open the beer and took a sip before answering. “Yeah. That’s just it.”

“No second thoughts?”

Chris smirked. “Second thoughts are for people who care.”

Matt let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Kids got a point.”

Before I could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Chris and Matt exchanged a look.

“You expecting someone?” Chris asked.

Matt shrugged and got up to answer it. As soon as he opened the door, two guys stepped inside like they’d done it a hundred times before. They both had that twitchy, wired energy—eyes shifting, hands in their hoodie pockets.

One of them nodded at Matt. “You got it?”

Matt didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, hold up.”

He disappeared down the hall, and when he came back, he was holding a small bag. Not weed. This was different—white powder, packed tight.

Cocaine.

I must’ve made a face because Chris glanced at me and smirked. “What, you didn’t know?”

I stared at him. “You guys sell coke?”

Chris shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Yeah hun, a lot more than coke.”

Matt handed the bag over, and the guy passed him a wad of cash in return. Quick. Clean. Efficient.

I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. “I thought you guys just had money because of your jobs.”

Chris laughed, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s cute.”

The guys left without another word, and Matt locked the door behind them before turning back to me, grinning. “You good?”

I hesitated, “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Chris clapped me on the back as he passed me. “Welcome to the real world, babe.”

I stayed at Matt and Chris’s for a little while after their business wrapped up, but eventually, I pushed myself off the couch, stretching. “I should head home. Need my own clothes and stuff.”

Chris, still laser-focused on his game, barely acknowledged me. “You say that like you don’t want to be here.”

Matt smirked. “You sure you don’t just wanna crash again?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be back. I just don’t wanna keep smelling like dude and weed.”

Chris snorted. “Could be worse.”

I flipped him off, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door. “Later, assholes.”

Matt gave a lazy “Bye Sweetheart,” and Chris just grunted in response.

The drive home was quiet. By the time I pulled into my driveway, it was already getting dark, and something immediately felt off.

The living room light was on.

I frowned. I hadn’t left it that way.

Stepping inside, I was hit with the smell of food—garlic, butter, something sizzling. Then I heard movement in the kitchen.

And then I saw him.

My dad.

Standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan like this was totally normal.

I blinked. “You’re home.”

He turned at the sound of my voice, like I was the one who wasn’t supposed to be here. “Yeah,” he said, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Figured it was time.”

I dropped my bag by the door and leaned against the frame. “Time for what?”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t bite at the obvious attitude in my tone. “To be home.”

I just nodded, taking it in. I wasn’t mad, not really. Just… surprised. I hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.

“You eaten?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Good,” he said, nodding toward the table. “Sit. I made enough for two.”

I hesitated, just for a second, before pulling out a chair and sitting down.

I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. “I’m going back to Matt and Chris’s.”

Dad’s eyes snapped to me, his brows pulling together. “Matt and Chris who?”

I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “Sturniolo.”

His whole face shifted, his expression darkening. “No.”

I froze, gripping the strap of my bag tighter. “Excuse me?”

“I said no,” he repeated, standing up. “You’re not going over there.”

I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. “You can’t just waltz back in and start making rules.”

He ignored that. “Do you even know who those boys are? My cop friends talk about them all the time. They’re bad news, Y/N.”

I scoffed. “Oh, so now you care who I hang out with?”

“This isn’t a joke,” he said, his voice sharp. “You don’t need to be involved with kids like that.”

I crossed my arms, leveling him with a look. “Yeah? Well, too late.”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t know what they’re into.”

I stared at him for a second, debating whether to push it further. Instead, I just shook my head and turned toward the door. “I’ll see you whenever you decide to show up again.”

“Y/N—”

But I didn’t let him finish. I walked out, slamming the door behind me.

The drive back to Matt and Chris’s was quicker than usual, mostly because I was gripping the wheel so tight I might as well have been trying to crush it. My dad just showing up out of nowhere was one thing, but acting like he suddenly got a say in my life? Telling me who I could and couldn’t hang out with? Bad news. Please. Like I didn’t already know exactly who Matt and Chris were.

By the time I pulled into their driveway, my head was still spinning. I didn’t bother knocking—I just walked in, letting the door swing shut behind me.

Both of them looked up from their spots on the couch. Chris raised an eyebrow. “Well, good to see you too.”

“That was fast,” Matt added, smirking.

I dropped my bag onto the floor and glared at them. “Shut the fuck up and roll me a joint. It’s been a long hour.”

Chris grinned, reaching for the stash on the coffee table. “Now that I can do.”

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