#i wanted to write jack being picked up by the back of the neck for being naughty so i slapped him back into this au and here we are

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 15/?

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It was a shock, to say the least, to discover that your son was the ruler of an entirely different dimension, that your college friend was an evil bastard bent on world domination and obsessed with stealing her away from her family, and that the only one standing in the way of said evil was, once again, your son.

Maddie was going to be sick.

“I just can’t believe it. Vladdy, the Wisconsin ghost? He wants me dead?”

“Yeah, he blames you for the ectoacne. He thinks he would've married mom if you hadn’t done the calculations wrong.”

“That’s absurd! I never loved him.”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, well, I’ve tried as best as I can to keep him away from you guys, but it’s hard. He keeps bugging our place, and I’m pretty sure he stalks me with the city’s video cameras. He thinks if he wears me down enough, I’ll renounce dad and join him as his son with mom at his side.”

Maddie was livid. How dare he? Danny was hers and Jack’s son. Not Bruce Wayne’s and certainly not Vlad’s.

“We’ll deal with this, honey buns. Now, we have to figure out how to get rid of those anti-ecto laws; they’re a danger to you and your sister.”

Maddie felt guilty. She and Jack had helped create those laws, believing all ghosts were evil. After all, the government had used their papers to prove that any ectoentity was an unfeeling thing bent on destruction. She wanted to dissect them; Jack wanted to tear them apart. Now that her children were in danger, she wanted them gone, but how much more damage would they have done if not for their children? They were hypocrites.

Maddie felt a hand on her shoulder. Jazz was smiling at her.

“Don’t worry mom, we’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, my sweet babies,” she hugged her daughter—a daughter whose life she had put in danger. Due to Jack’s and her obsession, they killed one child and changed the autonomy of another. They were horrible parents.

“We’ll make this right, baby, we’ll make this right.”

____

The car ride was silent as Bruce drove back to the hotel. He could smell Earl’s tea in the car, reminding him he’d have to tell his children that Alfred’s ghost was haunting them. He wondered how Damian would take it. His son had already gone through the emotional wringer. Finding out Alfred was around would either make or break him.

Bruce sighed.

One thing at a time. First, he’d have to find a way to repeal those laws. They were threatening his children (after all, more than one of them had come back from the grave) and Alfred. Bruce was being selfish, but he was glad his father figure had decided to stay instead of looking for eternal rest.

Bruce would rather have a ghost of Alfred than no Alfred at all.

They made it back to the hotel in one piece. There had been no new ghost attacks, and the world hadn’t threatened to implode in itself.

Tim didn’t waste any time. As soon as Bruce entered through the door, he was talking.

“Bruce, we need to find out how to present this to the Justice League. Justice League Dark sent over their thoughts and reports so we can make a presentation. Clark and Lois can write about this to be known publicly outside of Amity Park. Oh, we also have to find a way to have these laws at least temporarily stopped before we can get them fully repealed. If not, the ghosts will be in even more danger from the GIW’s attacks.”

Bruce nodded and sat by Tim. Jason was looking out the window, and Duke and Cass were sifting through reports. Damian and Dick picked up some random papers and started reading. Damian’s face became more pinched the more he read.

“Before we continue, I need to tell you something.”

All of his children looked at him.

“Alfred, can you show yourself?”

His kids gave him a look of disbelief.

“B, I think you need to—” Jason stopped when Alfred appeared in the middle of the room.

The whole room went still. Nobody breathed.

Then Damian made a choking noise.

“Pennyworth, you, but—but I saw you die,” Damian’s voice broke around the last word.

“Oh, Master Damian, it wasn’t your fault. Besides, I’m here.”

Damian ran toward Alfred and hugged the old butler.

“Oh, Master Damian, I’ve caused you so much pain,” he looked up, “I’ve hurt all my children. pain.”

“It’s not your fault, Alfie,” Jason said with tears streaming down his face. Actually, everyone seemed to be in different stages of crying. Even Bruce wasn’t immune as he felt his cheeks wet.

“Unfortunately, I still lack the strength to remain visible for extended periods, although this town appears to be helping with my strength. I spent most of my energy taking Master Bruce to the Fenton’s place today.”

Everyone turned to Bruce.

 “Seriously, you couldn’t have driven yourself, old man,” Jason asked.

“I didn’t know he was going to do that! It was a surprise.”

Alfred smiled softly as he started disappearing.

“Don’t worry, I’m always here, even if you can’t see me.”

Everyone stayed silent for a few moments; then, they became a whirlwind.

“We need to repeal those laws yesterday,” Tim muttered as he started typing away, “Alfie is in danger, too, if we don’t get rid of them.”

Damian stared at the empty place Alfred had been. Bruce got up and put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“It’ll turn out fine, son, I promise. No one will harm our family, let alone the government.”

Damian looked at Bruce with determination in his eyes.

“No, they won’t.”

____

Jazz and Danny sat in the emergency ops center, staring at Amity Park. It looked deceptively calm.

“You think mom and dad are going to stay up all night going through old papers and fixing them,” Danny asked.

Jazz hummed and then sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“I wish they hadn’t found out this way. I could’ve told in a way so they wouldn’t have to feel guilty.”

“They would’ve felt guilty either way, Danny. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Still,” he said.

They went silent.

“You should go to bed, Danny. After all, tomorrow is a big day.”

Danny scowled. He didn’t want proof that he was related to Damian and Bruce Wayne. After all, everything had gone to shit the moment they had shown up.

“You think they’ll tell mom and dad they’re Gotham’s heroes,” Danny said instead of cussing.

“You would know better than me,” Jazz said while getting up, “I’m going to bed.”

She kissed Danny’s forehead, and for once, Danny let her.

“‘Night, little brother.”

“Good night, Jazz.”

____

Batman entered the meeting with his cape billowing silently behind him. Red Robin was carrying a laptop and some papers. Robin trailed behind them with his usual scowl.

“What’s this about, Batman,” Superman asked. He noticed that Justice League Dark was also in the meeting; usually, they tended only to show up if magic was involved. Clark hated magic.

Batman sat at the head of the table while Robin handed out folders and Red Robin set up the computer.

Curious, Clark opened the folder and sped read through it. Clark felt sick. There were pictures.

“How did we miss this,” Flash asked, looking a little green.

“What is ‘this’?” Wonder Woman asked as she opened the folder.

“This is government-sanctioned genocide by the US government toward one of the strongest denizens of any dimension,” Constantine said.

This was going to be a long meeting.

[junglemax]

jungle boy might be a little obsessed.

[mini drabble]

Darby feels him before he sees him, as usual. Eyes on the back of his head like there’s a target.

Darby turns around slowly, because he already knows the danger lurking if he does give in.

Jungle Boy’s at the other end of the hallway, chewing on a piece of his hair. He positively lights up when Darby’s eyes lock with his, and Darby curses to himself because it’s cute. Darby stops and watches, now waiting to see his next move.

Jungle Boy looks around, and then he practically bounces towards Darby, hand outstretched in a wave.

Darby smiles for a moment, before it drops, eyes following past Jungle Boy’s head.

Jungle Boy doesn’t notice, and by that point it’s too late: he’s gripped by the back of the neck, lifted up just enough to be on his tippy toes like a kitten.

Luchasaurus huffs, saying something inaudible to Jungle Boy who just hangs there, limp. He lets go finally, and Jungle Boy rubs at his neck, glaring and pouting at Lucha. Lucha puts an arm around Jungle Boy’s shoulders to turn him the other way, looking back at Darby to glare.

Darby knows that glare loud and clear: stay away. He’s not worried about his own ability to mind his own business, though; he’s worried about Jungle Boy’s ability to stay away.

[onlyangel4]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos and always teasing her about her height but only him could do it. No one else was allowed. Thanks!! :))

little one. toto wolff.

toto wolff x author wife!reader

in which you are five foot tall and toto finds it the cutest thing ever or a few moments with toto based on your height.

warnings- cursing. fluff. smut. size kink. unprotected sex in a very established relationship. fingering.

author's note: i know this request was meant to be cute and full of fluff but i may have gotten a little carried away. please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better! i write written fic and smaus for most of the grid and a handful of associated people.

"papa she is doing that thing again", jack spoke. your son had seen you pulling a chair over to the kitchen cabinets and knew exactly what you were about to do. something that your husband had made clear he did not like you doing.so jack had made a beeline to toto's home office to go and get his father so that he could deal with it and help you.

"okay son, i've got it from here", toto spoke a slight smirk on his lips. toto made his way through the house and to the kitchen where he found you on a chair that you had dragged next to the cabinet. "schatz", he tutted softly making your head whip round to look at him, "what have i told you about doing that"

"well i wanted biscuits and you put them at the top to hide them from jack and i couldn't reach them. and you are busy so i didn't want to bother you", you spoke still standing on the chair. "issue is i still can't reach them, they are right at the back", you spoke a pout now on your lips making your husband laugh.

"i'll get them but first get down", toto spoke his arms wrapping around your waist and effortlessly moving you from the chair and onto the ground. he then reached up and easily found the biscuits placing them in your awaiting hands.

"you need to stop doing that, you could fall and break your neck"

"don't be dramatic toto", you spoke shaking your head at your husband. he approached you his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you into him so he could place a kiss on your forehead. "i just worry schatz"

"i know but not all of us are blessed with being six foot five", you laughed softly.

"i will get people to lower the cupboards if it makes you stop climbing on the counter like a cat little one", he laughed softly.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

deep down toto loved the height difference between you both you were so small so delicate especially contrasting against toto's hulking figure. it was so obvious a fairy and her giant.

toto was completly captivated by it and there were sometimes where toto could not help himself.

this particular time toto had come home from work to find walking around the house in just one of his white button up shirts with only your favourite white lace thong underneath it. you had been icing cupcakes that jack had helped you make before your parents had come to pick him up for the weekend. you had icing sugar dashed across your forehead, hair pulled up into the messiest ponytail to keep it away from your eyes.

toto cleared his throat alerting you to his presence. your face turned to look at him, "evening love", you chirped looking at him, "the kitchen is a bit of a state jack wanted to make cupcakes before going to see my mama but we didn't have enough time to ice them", you spoke but from toto's gaze you could tell that he was looking at you but not listening, "you alright love, what are you thinking?"

"that i should burn all of your clothes so you have to wear mine all the time", it was so matter of fact, a bold statement from your husband. once that made you blush. you moved to approach him, your arms tugging at his collar so he would bend down to kiss you. which he did. but usually these kisses after work were an innocent greeting but this one was anything but. there was heat behind the movement of toto's mouth. he was putting his all into the kiss, his hands moved to your waist large hands gripping handfuls of your ass. as he pulled away from the kiss he looked down at you, "i need you now little one. is anything in the oven?", he spoke not wanting to cause a fire in the house. when you shook your head that was the green light that he needed to pick you up by your waist and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

toto quickly walked you both to the bedroom, once inside he pressed your back against the wall and allowed his lips to run up and down your neck nibbling and biting at it, glad that you were currently in the middle of writing a book so you had no public appearances, meaning that he could leave all the marks he wanted to on your skin. he kissed from your neck back up to your ear, "I am going to fuck you in my shirt schatz", he whispered huskily in your ear. his eyes were blown with lust as he moved to throw you down onto the bed, this manhandling making a wetness form between your legs.

you loved being reminded of your husband's strength and simple acts like this were the perfect examples of this. you laid back on the bed watching as your husband moved to hover over you, "you look so pretty in my shirt little one. it swamps you and you look so perfect. makes me want to fuck you just so you know how much i love you."

"i know how much you love me toto"

"sh just let me show you", he whispered as his hands moved to bunch the shirt up at your waist revealing your clothed pussy to him, "isn't she pretty", he cooed as he pulled the flimsy white lace down your legs discarding it on the floor. toto placed a kiss on the inside of each of your thighs before he moved his thumb to your sensitive clit. he began to rub circles on your clit relishing in each moan that tumbled from your lips and the way that your hands fisted the bed sheets.

"let those moans out little one, i want to hear them", he spoke before pushing one finger into your pussy, thrusting it at a steady pace. "fuck, you are so fucking tight princess, such a good girl taking it for me", he praised.

"toto", you whined, this was the warning that your orgasm was near, so he began to use more pressure on your clit as he fingered you and soon enough that wave of pleasure came crashing down on you soundtracked by a moan of his name leaving your lips.

toto was feral by this point, all he wanted was to be inside of you, and you knew it. so you moved your hands down to the belt holding his slacks up and unbuckled it. he then helped you pull his trousers down. he was rock hard. "i can't wait to be inside of you my love", he spoke softly before kissing you again, full of love and passion.

toto tapped your clit with his cock before he pushed inside of you, an all to familiar groan falling from his lips as he did so. you were so tight, fucking you after all of these years still felt like that day he took your virginity. it was such a perfect feeling to be so deeply connected with his wife.

toto set a steady pace with his hips, he still had his shirt on and you were still wearing that button down that made him go feral. you were so desperate for him that you did not care that you were still fully clothed. "that's my girl. taking me so good", you growled in your ear as his hips pistoned against you. your back arched the feeling of pleasure washing over your body. getting to be intimate like this with the man that you loved was such a blissful feeling, it left your mind reeling.

toto bit down on your neck hoping to leave a pretty little mark there and that was the point where you lost all control, "toto", you moaned softly, "i'm so close"

"i know schatje, i know", he whispered softly in your ear, "come with me darling"

and with that your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks a loud moan falling from your bitten lips, that was all toto needed to push him over the edge and he found himself emptying inside of you.

"such a good girl", he praised, "you always take me so well", he spoke as he pulled out peppering kisses along your neck as he did so before he pulled you into his arms letting his body protect yours.

you both laid there incredibly content and so unbelievably in love.

[hottiesforhockey]

may the best brother win pt 1⎜h.brothers

pairings: jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜ luke hughes x afab!reader ⎜quinn hughes x afab!reader ⎜ genre: romance ⎜angst ⎜friends-to-lovers ⎜smut? ⎜ warnings: mentions of a bet ⎜jack is an oblivious and unsure idiot ⎜everyone is making a mutual bad decision ⎜ lots of tension between reader and the bros ⎜not much in this part tbh ⎜ synopsis: you had spent every summer with the hughes brothers since you were ten years old ... why does this summer feel so different? word count: 9k authors note:  this is a re-write of my original series - I hope I can get it to live up to the original and I hope every one enjoys!! This is more then double the original chapter 👀 and I'm hoping to add a bit more between each of the brothers with the reader cause I feel like who she was going to end up with in the original was to obvious. Who do you guys want to see next?

(unedited)

The Hughes brothers had made a name for themselves over the past few years. 

Professional athletes. 

All top ten overall draft picks. 

Captain of the Vancouver Canucks. 

Hotshot forward for the New Jersey Devils.

And the rising star defensemen in the league. 

They had certainly found a way to make every parent look at their own kid and wonder where they went wrong. 

But no one really knew what absolute imbeciles the Hughes brothers truly were. 

“Jack, I’m dead serious give me the phone.” You hiss, stopping across the counter from the middle Hughes brother, who is continuing to swipe through your - previously private - instagram page while letting out the occasional wolf whistle as he finds something interesting.  Jack doesn’t even look up, the smirk on his lips widening as he thumbs over another picture. His gaze flickers between the phone screen and you, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh wow,” he drawls, turning the phone toward Quinn, who sits unbothered on the couch, scrolling through his own phone. “Did you know she could clean up this well? I mean, this is—damn, I almost feel bad for Luke. He’s got no idea what he’s missing out on.” Your stomach twists at the mention of Luke. Heat creeps up your neck, but you shove it down, crossing your arms. 

“Jack,” you say, voice laced with warning. “I swear to God—” Jack merely tuts, shaking his head like you’re the one being unreasonable. 

“Relax, I’m just admiring your taste in outfits. This one? The black dress? Wow. I mean, who were you wearing this for?” He waggles his eyebrows, his entire face radiating shit-eating glee. “You sure as hell never look like this with us.” You lunge for the phone, but Jack jerks it out of reach, holding it high over his head. 

“Jack!” you snap, fingers just barely brushing against his wrist. “Give it back.”

Quinn finally looks up, arching a brow. “What are you two doing?”

Jack grins. “Just admiring our bestie boos Instagram thirst traps.” You shoot Quinn a pleading look, but all he does is sigh and shake his head, completely uninterested in intervening. Jack, however, is eating up every second of your misery.

“I mean, come on, this is valuable intel,” Jack continues, swiping again. “This is the kind of stuff Luke needs to see. I bet he’d be real interested in knowing what you look like when you’re not just hanging around in sweats at the lake house, is this you at a frat party?”

Your heart stutters at the thought of Luke seeing those pictures—of him looking at you in a way that wasn’t just friendly, wasn’t just casual. You’d spent every summer since you were ten years old with the Hughes brothers but this summer felt... different.

Luke alone had been acting different. More careful around you, his eyes lingering just a second longer than before, something was up and as the Hughes brothers tended to do — they were keeping it a secret from everyone but themselves.  Jack notices the way you freeze, and his smirk turns downright devious.

 “Oh, interesting,” he murmurs. “I think I hit a nerve.” You snap out of it and make another grab for the phone, this time managing to get a grip on his wrist. Jack yelps, twisting in an attempt to wriggle free, but you hold on. 

“Give it back, Hughes.”

He’s laughing too hard to fight back properly. “You’re gonna have to fight me for it.”

“I will. Don’t tempt me.” Just then, the front door swings open, and in walks Luke, fresh from a morning swim, hair still damp from the water. He pauses in the doorway, eyes darting between the scene in front of him—you practically wrestling Jack, who is wheezing with laughter, and Quinn, who looks deeply unamused.

“What,” Luke says slowly, “is going on?”

Jack, the menace, brightens instantly. “Oh, perfect timing, Lukey. Come look at what I found.”

Your heart slams into your ribs. “Jack, no.”

Jack grins, victorious. “Oh, yes.”

And with that, he tosses the phone straight at Luke.

Luke catches it effortlessly but doesn’t even glance at the screen. Instead, he rolls his eyes and, without hesitation, walks straight over to you — watching with amusement as you jump away from his brother and without a word, he presses the phone back into your palm, his fingers brushing against yours briefly before he pulls away, his eyes trailing over you as you whisper a soft “thank you.” 

Jack lets out an exaggerated groan. “Oh, come on! That was supposed to be fun.”

Luke shrugs, giving him an unimpressed look. “You’re just mad your entertainment got cut short.”

Jack throws his hands in the air. “Obviously!” You can’t help the smirk tugging at your lips as you clasp the phone tighter between your hands. Luke catches your eye, something unreadable in his expression, and for a moment, you swear you see the ghost of a smile before he turns away.

Jack flops onto the couch dramatically. “You guys are ruining my life.”

Quinn snorts. “You’ll live.”

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. You got secrets to hide or something?” Jack continues flopping onto the couch besides his older brother with a “humph” and a cross of his arms - cue grown adult throwing a tantrum. 

“If we weren’t forced to be friends, I wouldn’t think twice about dropping you.” You hiss, pointing an accusatory finger in the thief’s direction before following his lead and taking the spot on the opposite side of Quinn, who very briefly glances away from the golf playing on his phone to glance down at the phone still tightly grasped in your hand. 

“Maybe she’s got a boyfriend and doesn’t want you to ruin it.” Quinn hints, his gaze flicking up to your face before he diverts his focus back to the sports game. 

“A boyfriend?” Jack says softly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. Your eyes rolling at the teases you can already feel are on the tip of Jack’s tongue, but he surprises you— “You would tell us, right?” Jack’s voice carries as he turns to face you on the couch, half your body hidden by his older brother, “like if you were seeing someone, you’d tell us?” He continues - the famous Hughes pout forming on his face. “You wouldn’t hide something like that?” You frown at Jack as he presses again, tilting your head in confusion as the sounds of Luke bustling about the kitchen pulling out the extra large party pack of chips and a freshly made container of salsa turns your attention away from the middle child. 

“Why would I not hide something like that?” You question back, you gaze slowly moving away from the suddenly tempting chip Luke is hoarding at the kitchen counter, your words making Luke’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he shoves a chip in his mouth, “I mean you guys hide your relationships all the time - isn’t it normal at this point?” You add quickly noticing the way Jack’s face drops a little. 

“From the public.” Luke notes quickly, before dipping another chip into the salsa. 

Jack huffs, slouching even further into the couch. “So what you’re saying is… you do have a boyfriend?”

You blink at him, then scoff. “That’s not what I said.”

“But you didn’t deny it.” Jack’s grin is back, all sharp edges and mischief. He taps his fingers against the fabric of the couch like he’s waiting for you to crack under the pressure of his interrogation. “Who is he? Someone from home? One of those frat boys in your thirst trap era?”

“Oh my God,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “I do not have a thirst trap era.”

“You totally do,” Jack argues. “And I think everyone that’s seen your instagram would agree with me.” Your stomach flips, and you make the mistake of looking at Luke, who is suddenly very interested in the salsa container in front of him. His fingers drum against the side of it, his jaw tight as if he’s biting back a response. He doesn’t meet your gaze, and that alone makes your breath hitch.

“Fuck, do I have a thirst trap era?” You hiss at Quinn next to you who just shrugs, a small grimace on your face that answers all the questions you had. 

Jack, ever the instigator, narrows his eyes in suspicion. He glances between the two of you, his smirk deepening. “Wait a minute,” he drawls, tapping his fingers against the counter. “Luke, you’ve been awfully quiet. I thought for sure you’d have something to say about all this.”

Luke finally looks up, his expression carefully blank. “Nothing to say.”

Jack squints. “Nothing at all?”

Luke shrugs. “Nope.” You expect Jack to let it go, but of course, that would be too easy. He turns his attention back to you, eyes glinting. 

“Okay, so say you did have a boyfriend. Hypothetically.”

“Jack…” Quinn warns from the couch, but Jack ignores him.

“Would we know him?” Jack continues. “Is he hockey adjacent? Is he an athlete? Is he someone who’s, I don’t know, conveniently six-foot and plays as a forward for the Anaheim ducks?” he teases, the boys more then aware of the crush you had on their close friend Trevor Zegras when you were eighteen - the boy spending almost all his time at the Hughes lake house during the summer, your paths crossing more then once. 

Your breath catches, but you force yourself to keep your expression neutral. “You’re exhausting,” you mutter, as Luke joins the three of you on the couch placing his snack on the coffee table in front of you. Reaching for the chip bag that Luke has, his fingers brush against yours as he moves the bag slightly closer, and the brief contact sends a jolt up your spine. You pull your hand back quickly, but not before Jack catches the movement.

“Oh, wow,” Jack breathes, eyes going wide with realisation. “Oh, this is amazing. This is better than I ever could have imagined.”

“Shut up, Jack,” Luke says flatly, but there’s a pink tinge dusting the tips of his ears.

Jack outright cackles. “You’re blushing!” he accuses, pointing at Luke, then shifting his gaze to you. “You both are! This is insane.”

Before you can respond, Quinn speaks up from the couch. “Maybe she’s not interested in Luke,” he muses, his gaze flickering toward you, unreadable. “Maybe she prefers someone older. More mature.”

The air shifts. Jack immediately perks up, his smirk morphing into something more calculating. “Ohhh, interesting,” he murmurs. “Are you suggesting that our favourite summer guest has a thing for captains? Because if that’s the case…” He trails off, leaning forward, his voice dropping. “I wouldn’t blame you. Nico does have that whole, doe eyed Swiss man thing going for him.” You watch as Quinn rolls his eyes at Jack’s obvious tease, but your eyes catch his as he stifles a small smile at his younger brothers antics. Quinn, unlike Luke, doesn’t look away. He holds your gaze, his expression unreadable, as if he’s testing you—seeing how you’ll react.

Luke shifts beside you, arms crossing over his chest. “Can we not?” he mutters, the tension in his shoulders visible. His jaw clenches, and you swear you catch the faintest flicker of something possessive in his eyes.

Jack, of course, thrives on the chaos. “Oh, come on, Lukey,” he teases. “Are you saying you wouldn’t be a little jealous if she picked Quinn over you?”

Luke doesn’t answer. He just looks at you—really looks at you. And for a moment, the world around you fades.

Jack snaps his fingers, breaking the spell. “Or,” he continues, his grin downright devious now, “maybe it’s neither of you. Maybe it’s me.” You bark out a laugh, but Jack just winks. “I mean, I’m fun, I’m charming, I don’t take life too seriously. Plus, I’m great with my hands.” He waggles his fingers in emphasis, making you roll your eyes.

Quinn exhales sharply, running a hand down his face. “You’re unbelievable.” Luke mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but whatever it is makes Jack snicker. 

“Oh, this is way better than I expected,” Jack muses. “We’ve got a real conundrum on our hands, don’t we?”

“Not a conundrum,” you correct, grabbing your phone and standing. “Because I’m leaving.”

But before you can make it out of the lounge room, Quinn speaks again, low and steady. “You don’t have to leave.” Your breath hitches. It’s not just the words—it’s the way he says them, quiet yet certain. Like he doesn’t want you to go.

Jack watches you closely, grinning like he knows something you don’t. Luke’s still staring, silent but intense.

Something has definitely shifted. And you’re not sure you’re ready for what comes next.

“We could make a bet out of it.” 

“Huh?” 

“Yeah, something to determine which one of us is more your type?” Jack explains, your body frozen in its spot by the doorway as all three sets of eyes turn towards you. 

Silence blankets the room, thick and charged, as Jack’s words settle over you. Your grip tightens around your phone, the only thing tethering you to reality as your heart pounds against your ribs.

“A bet?” You echo, your voice barely above a whisper. Jack, the absolute menace that he is, grins like he’s just uncovered the secret to the universe.

“Yeah. A competition, if you will.”

You blink at him, stunned. “A competition for what, exactly?”

“To see which one of us you like best.”

You choke on air. “Excuse me?”

Quinn sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jack—”

“No, no, hear me out,” Jack insists, holding up a hand. “It’s obvious there’s some… interest here.” His gaze flickers between you and his brothers, and you swear you catch Luke shift uncomfortably on the couch, his chips and salsa long forgotten. “We’re just figuring out who’s got the upper hand.”

You scoff, heat rising in your cheeks. “That’s insane.”

“What’s insane,” Jack corrects, “is pretending like there’s not something going on here.” His smirk widens as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Think about it. You’ve been hanging around us for years. Summers at the lake house, road trips, late-night conversations. We’ve all seen you at your best and your worst. You’ve seen us the same way. There’s history here.” Your mouth opens, then closes. Damn him for making sense.

Luke finally speaks, his voice low and measured. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Jack shrugs. “Maybe. But tell me I’m wrong.” Luke doesn’t respond. He just clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering toward you before darting away. You swear his fingers tighten into a fist for half a second before he forces them to relax.

Quinn exhales sharply, eyes scanning your face. “You don’t have to entertain this.”

Jack ignores him, grinning like the devil himself. “Come on, wouldn’t it be fun? Just a little friendly competition.” He tilts his head, considering. “Three Dates and the winner gets…” He pauses, then smirks. “Bragging rights.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Bragging rights?”

Jack shrugs. “What, you want us to wager something else?” You glance at Luke and Quinn. Luke’s staring at Jack like he wants to strangle him. Quinn’s lips are pressed into a thin line, unreadable.

It’s absolutely ridiculous.

And yet… The thought sends a thrill down your spine, something equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. The idea of them competing for your attention? The tension that’s already been simmering under the surface bubbling over into something real?

Jack sees the way you hesitate, the tiny flicker of consideration in your eyes, and pounces. “You’re thinking about it.”

“I am not.”

“You so are.”

You glare at him. “And what exactly would this ‘date’ be?”

Jack beams, clearly delighted that you’re engaging. “Oh, I’m thinking a mix of skill, charm, and, you know, just generally proving who’s the best fit for you, it can be anything we can think of.”

Luke snorts. “This is so stupid.”

Jack ignores him. “Give us all one date to try to convince you on who's the better brother”

“Absolutely not,” you say flatly. “I refuse to be the prize in some pissing contest.”

"It's not a pissing contest." Jack defends, "It's more of a show on who knows you better - who can please you the best." 

Luke rolls his eyes. “We all know her the same.”

Jack raises a brow. “Do we?” Your stomach twists. You think of late-night talks with Quinn, quiet and deep. The way Luke watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Jack’s easy, teasing familiarity. The way they each know pieces of you—different, overlapping pieces.

“And it would just be a date?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

Jack grins, eyes dancing with mischief. “One date each. That's it. ” You inhale sharply. Luke shifts again, his body suddenly tense. Quinn’s gaze sharpens.

Jack spreads his hands. “One day, one date, one shot to impress you.”

You shake your head. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Jack agrees easily. “But you haven’t said no.” You press your lips together. Every rational part of your brain is screaming at you to shut this down, to walk away, to pretend like this conversation never happened. But deep down, in the place you don’t often acknowledge, you know the truth.

You don’t want to walk away.

You want to see what happens next. You exhale slowly, rolling your shoulders back before levelling Jack with a look. “Okay. But how does this work?”

Jack’s grin stretches wider, pure delight flashing across his face. “Easy. We each get one date—our best shot to win you over.” He repeats.  Jack grins, his eyes practically sparkling with mischief as he leans back against the counter, arms folded like he’s just won the lottery. “So, do we have a deal?”

You chew on your bottom lip, glancing between the three of them. Luke looks exasperated, his arms crossed so tightly over his chest that it looks like he wants to physically restrain Jack from continuing this nonsense. Quinn’s expression is as unreadable as ever, but there’s something in the way he’s watching you—steady, assessing—that makes your skin prickle with awareness. Jack, however, is practically bouncing on the couch, barely containing his excitement.

“Fine,” you say finally, exhaling sharply. “One date. One date with each of you. And then it’s over. No bragging rights, no competition, no nonsense.” Jack whoops, pumping his fist in the air like he just scored the winning goal in overtime. 

“Hell yes! And since this was my idea, I go first.”

Luke groans loudly. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever agreed to.”

“Well, nobody forced you to, Lukey boy,” Jack sing-songs, spinning around and throwing an arm around your shoulders like you’re already a couple. “So, princess, you better get ready. Tomorrow, we’re going on the best date of your life.”

+

+

The next day, the weather is perfect—warm, but not too hot, with a gentle breeze ruffling the trees. Jack had insisted on planning the date himself, and you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing your hands over your jeans, a white tank top, fitted but not tight, tucked neatly into the denim. Casual, but cute. Your hair pulled away from your face with a soft white bandana—the kind of outfit that says, ‘I put in effort to look cute but not enough that one of my childhood best friends would think I have any feelings for him.’

Behind you, Quinn is perched on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. His posture is relaxed, but there’s something about the way his eyes flicker up to your reflection in the mirror—just for a second—before dropping back down that makes you wonder what he’s thinking.

"Are you ever not on your phone?" you question, eyes narrowing as you catch him glancing at the screen yet again.

He barely lifts his head. "What do you even do on it all day?" you press, turning away from your mirror to fully face him.

"Read." He says it so simply that it catches you off guard.

You blink. "Read?" That was not the answer you were expecting.

He shrugs, as if this is common knowledge. "Mum convinced me to get the Kindle app, so…"

"Oh." You hesitate, eyebrows lifted slightly. You don’t know why, but the thought of Quinn Hughes spending his free time reading instead of, you know, hockey or brooding silently in a corner, surprises you. “What kind of books?”

He glances up then, something almost amused in his expression. “Why? Got some recommendations?”

You smirk. “Maybe.”

Quinn just shakes his head, setting his phone down beside him. “You done staring at yourself, or are you planning to change again?”

You cross your arms. “Should I?”

He exhales slowly, then shrugs. “Depends. Are you trying to impress Jack?”

Your stomach twists slightly at the question. “It’s just a date, Quinn.”

“Right.” His voice is even, but the way his jaw tightens doesn’t go unnoticed. He picks his phone back up, returning to his scrolling like he couldn’t care less. "Then you look fine."

You shake off the strange feeling creeping up your chest and grab your jacket. “Alright, I’m going.”

Quinn doesn’t look up, still sitting on the edge of your bed as you leave your room. “Have fun.”

When you step outside, Jack is waiting in the driveway, leaning against his car with a picnic basket in hand and an easy grin on his face. His eyes sweep over you, lingering just a second longer than usual before he clears his throat.

“Damn, princess. Didn’t know you were gonna try and outshine the sun today.”

You roll your eyes, but the compliment warms you. “Is that your way of saying I look nice?”

“Pfft, don’t fish for compliments,” he teases, opening the passenger door for you. “But yeah, you do.” The drive to the picnic spot is filled with Jack’s usual antics—singing dramatically to the radio, asking you absurd ‘would-you-rather’ questions, and throwing in the occasional flirty remark just to see if he can make you blush. By the time you reach the park, your stomach hurts from laughing.

Jack picks a spot beneath a sprawling oak tree, spreading out a blanket with a flourish. “Welcome to the Hughes five-star dining experience,” he announces, pulling out sandwiches, fresh fruit, and a ice cold jug of lemonade. “I even packed dessert. Prepare to be impressed.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you actually make this yourself?”

He scoffs. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, I helped Mum make it, so that totally counts.”

You smirk, plucking a grape from the container. “I’ll allow it.” For a while, the two of you eat in comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery. Jack watches you between bites, something softer in his gaze now. It’s different from the playful energy he usually exudes—more contemplative, like he’s soaking in the moment.

“Hey,” he says after a pause, leaning back on his elbows. “You ever think about… I don’t know, what it’d be like if things were different?”

You glance at him. “Different how?”

Jack exhales, tilting his head back to look at the sky. “Like, if I met you under different circumstances. If I wasn’t, y’know, me—Would you look at me differently?” The question catches you off guard. You don’t know how to answer it, not when there’s something so vulnerable in his voice, hidden beneath the usual bravado.

“Jack,” you start carefully. “I don’t—”

“Never mind,” he interrupts quickly, sitting up and flashing you his usual grin. “Just forget I said anything. Let’s focus on the important stuff—like proving I can totally beat you at cloud spotting.” You let it slide, even as your heart beats a little faster in your chest. Jack doesn’t often let his guard down like that, and part of you wonders if he regrets doing so. But for now, you let him change the subject, watching as he dramatically points out a cloud shaped like a ‘hockey stick’ that looks nothing like a hockey stick.

“That looks more like an elephant to me.” You disagree as you lie back on the picnic blanket, pulling the tray of chocolate covered strawberries with you as you grimace up at the sky, the sun far past it’s highest point making the sky only just bearable to look at with the softening rays of late afternoon. 

“Agree to disagree.” Jack huffs as he joins you, sprawling against the blanket, his hand snatching a strawberry from your container, popping it into his mouth with a hum of delight.  You watch as Jack chews the strawberry, his jaw flexing slightly as he savours the taste. There's something about the way his lips part, the tip of his tongue swiping over them to catch any lingering sweetness, that makes your stomach flutter.

“Good, huh?” you remark, trying to sound casual. You pop one into your own mouth, but suddenly, the fruit feels heavier on your tongue, the sensation too intimate as you become hyperaware of his gaze on you. Jack hums in response, stretching his arms behind his head. 

“See, I told you. Five-star Hughes dining experience.” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s something else there, lingering beneath the surface. He’s watching you again, not quite the same way he usually does when he’s trying to rile you up. This is quieter, more observant.

You shift slightly, trying to shake the feeling creeping up your spine. “You never explained your question earlier.”

Jack lifts a brow. “Which one?”

“The one about looking at you differently.” You turn onto your side, resting your weight on your elbow so you can properly see him. “You asked if I would see you differently if we met under different circumstances.”

Jack stiffens, just for a second, before covering it up with a lopsided grin. “Ah, so you were paying attention.”

“I always pay attention to you.” The words leave your mouth before you can think better of them. Jack stills, his eyes flicking to yours, something unreadable flickering through them, something distinctly surprised. You clear your throat, pressing forward before the moment stretches into something too heavy. “So? What did you mean by that?”

Jack exhales through his nose, like he’s debating something internally. Then he sits up, resting his forearms on his knees, gaze locked onto the picnic blanket. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “I guess I just wonder sometimes if you ever think of me as more than… I don’t know. Just Jack.”

Your breath catches slightly. “Just Jack…” You repeat under your breath, as you follow his movements sitting up onto your knees.

He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath, though it sounds a little forced. “Forget it. I’m being stupid.”

You reach out before you can second-guess yourself, your fingers grazing his forearm. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and his muscles tense slightly before relaxing. “I don’t think it’s stupid.”

Jack turns to you then, really looks at you. His brown eyes are dark, searching, filled with something that makes your heart beat a little too fast.

“You’re one of my best friends,” you say softly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t see you.”

His throat bobs as he swallows, his gaze flickering down—to your lips, to your hand still resting on his arm—before he quickly looks away. “Yeah?” 

You nod, your own pulse thrumming in your ears. There’s an energy between you now, something simmering just below the surface. The air feels warmer, the space between you charged. Jack shifts slightly, his knee knocking against yours. He doesn’t move away. Instead, he lets the silence stretch, his fingers twitching where they rest on his thigh, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you. And suddenly, all the teasing, all the playful flirting over the years—it doesn’t feel so innocent anymore.

You wonder if it ever really was.

Jack swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So… if I kissed you right now, what would you do?” His voice is quiet, almost testing the waters, but there’s an unmistakable intensity in his gaze. Your breath hitches. You could play it off, laugh it away like you always do, but something in you refuses to back down this time. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, letting your fingers trace absentminded circles on his forearm. 

“Why don’t you find out?” A slow smirk tugs at the corner of Jack’s lips, but it doesn’t quite mask the nervous energy crackling between you. He leans in, hesitating for just a second, like he’s waiting for you to change your mind.

You don’t.

Then his lips brush against yours, a whisper of contact that sends a shiver down your spine, he pulls away after barely a touch, his blue eyes locked with yours as he lets out a shuddered breath. “You call that a kiss, Hughes?” You can see the corner of his lips tilt upwards, his eyes searching yours one more time as he lifts himself onto his knees, one hand lifting to cup the underside of your jaw, his thumb tracing against the curve of your cheekbone. 

“No.” He exhales softly, like he’s been holding his breath, and then he’s kissing you fully—tentative at first, but quickly deepening when he realises you’re not pulling away.  The world around you fades, the picnic, the warm sun, everything—it’s just him, just the way he tastes, the way he feels pressed against you.

His lips are warm, softer than you expected, and they move against yours with a careful tenderness that makes your chest ache. His hand on your jaw is steady, his thumb still tracing small, soothing circles against your cheekbone, but you can feel the faint tremor in his fingers, the way his breath hitches ever so slightly when you lean into him. It’s as if he’s holding himself back, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile between you.

You don’t want him to hold back.

Your hand finds its way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. He responds immediately, his other arm sliding around your waist to anchor you against him. The kiss deepens, his lips parting slightly, and you feel the faintest brush of his tongue against yours. It’s electric, the kind of kiss that makes your head spin and your heart race, and for a moment, you forget everything else—the park, the picnic, the years of friendship that led to this. All that exists is the heat of his mouth on yours, the way his body feels pressed against you, the way he smells like sunshine and something faintly sweet, like the strawberries you’d been sharing. But then, just as quickly as it started, Jack pulls away.

His breath is uneven, his chest rising and falling as he stares at you, his eyes wide and searching. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—doubt, maybe, or fear—and it makes your stomach twist. He doesn’t let go of you completely, his hand still resting lightly on your jaw, but the distance between you feels like a chasm.

“Jack…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. You don’t know what you’re going to say, but you need to say something, anything, to fill the silence that’s suddenly too heavy.

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you can finish. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. His hand drops from your face, and he shifts back, putting even more space between you. He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze darting away from yours, like he can’t bear to look at you. “I—I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have.” The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what just happened. One second, he was kissing you like you were the only thing that mattered, and the next, he’s pulling away like he regrets it. Like he regrets you.

“Jack,” you say again, your voice firmer this time. “What are you talking about? You don’t have to apologise.”

He lets out a shaky laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “Yeah, I do. That was… I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t fair to you.” He finally looks at you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and something else you can’t quite place. “You’re my best friend. I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

Your heart sinks. “You didn’t cross anything,” you argue, your voice rising slightly. “It was spur of the moment.”

He shakes his head again, his jaw tightening. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I just—” He cuts himself off, exhaling sharply. “I don’t want to mess this up. You’re too important to me, to us. ” The words sting more than you want to admit. You want to tell him that he’s not messing anything up, that this was a mutually agreed upon ‘platonic’ kiss but you know you’d be lying and by the way he’s looking at you, like he’s already made up his mind, makes the words catch in your throat.

“Jack,” you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away completely. “You’re not messing anything up.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs, running a hand over his face. “I just… I need to think, okay? This is… a lot.”

You nod, even though it feels like your chest is cracking open. The motion is automatic, a reflex to keep the fragile pieces of yourself together, but inside, you’re falling apart. The weight of his words presses down on you, heavy and suffocating, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve just lost something irreplaceable.

“Okay,” you whisper, the word barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. It’s a small word, a simple word, but it feels like a surrender, like you’re giving up something you didn’t even know you were fighting for. The sharp feeling of rejection settles deep in the pit of your stomach, a cold, gnawing ache that spreads through you like poison.

Jack stands up, brushing off his jeans like he’s trying to erase the moment, and you follow suit, your movements stiff and mechanical. You help him pack up the picnic basket, your hands brushing against his occasionally, but the contact doesn’t feel the same anymore. It’s like the spark between you has been snuffed out, leaving only a hollow emptiness in its place. “We should probably head back,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. “It’s getting late.”

You don’t argue and the drive back to the house is quiet, the easy banter from earlier replaced by an awkward silence that feels suffocating. Jack keeps his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s replaying the kiss in his head, just like you are.

“Jack,” you say quietly, your voice trembling slightly. “Are we okay?”

He doesn’t look at you. “Yeah,” he says after a pause. “We’re okay.” 

“Okay” you reply because that the only thing your stupid brain can think of - sliding out of the car as soon as he pulls it into the lake house driveway, not wasting time in saying anything to him as you push open the front door surprised to see Quinn sitting in the small blue armchair in the entryway, a book in his lap. 

“Oh, you’re back early.” Quinn says as he looks over you. You swallow hard, your emotions still tangled from the car ride home, from the way Jack’s kiss had felt like everything and then suddenly, nothing at all. You take a slow breath, trying to steady yourself before forcing a smile that feels brittle at the edges.

“Yeah,” you murmur, stepping inside and kicking off your shoes. “Guess the sun got to us.” Quinn watches you carefully, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything right away, just flips the book in his hands closed, his fingers resting lightly on the cover. You glance at it absentmindedly, but your mind is too foggy to make out the title.

Jack walks in behind you, his presence heavy even though he doesn’t say anything. He rubs the back of his neck, shifting on his feet before muttering a quiet, “I’m gonna head upstairs.”

You don’t turn around. You don’t trust yourself to. Quinn’s eyes flicker between you and Jack, something tightening in his expression before settling on your face again. The sharpness of his gaze makes you feel exposed, but there’s something else there, something simmering just beneath the surface. Jack’s footsteps fade as he disappears up the stairs, leaving just the two of you in the entryway. The silence stretches, thick and almost unbearable, before Quinn finally tilts his head slightly, studying you.

“So,” he says, voice even, but there’s an edge to it now. “Are we pretending everything’s fine, or are you actually going to tell me what happened?” You hesitate, your fingers curling into the hem of your tank top. Part of you wants to brush it off, to tell him you’re just tired, but you know better. 

Quinn knows better.

“Nothing happened,” you say anyway, but it comes out weaker than you intended.

Quinn’s brow lifts, but there’s no amusement in his expression. “Right.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And yet, you look like you just walked off the set of a dramatic coming-of-age movie.”

You huff out a laugh, but there’s no real amusement behind it. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Comes with the territory.” He leans back again, stretching his legs out. “So. Jack?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jack.” Quinn waits, patient as ever, but there’s something tighter about his posture now. And when you finally meet his gaze, something in you cracks. You sink onto the chair across from him, hugging a pillow to your chest like it’ll somehow keep your emotions from spilling over.

“We kissed,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn’s expression stills, but you see the way his fingers flex slightly around the edge of his book. “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

He exhales slowly, considering you. “Do you want me to say more?” You hesitate.

Do you?

“It was… it was nice,” you say, your voice quieter now, like you’re admitting something too fragile to say out loud. “And then it wasn’t.”

Quinn’s jaw tightens, his grip on the book whitening his knuckles. “What do you mean?”

You shake your head, staring at the pattern of the couch cushion like it holds the answers. “It was like… for a second, it felt like he wanted it. Like he wanted me. But then he pulled away, and suddenly it was like it never happened. Like he regretted it.” Quinn’s silence stretches, but this time, there’s no unreadable neutrality to it. There’s tension in the air now, something sharp and unspoken between you. His gaze drags over your face, lingering a second too long on your lips before he looks away, jaw working like he’s biting something back.

You sigh, rubbing at your temples. “And I don’t know what to do with that. Because he’s Jack, you know? He’s my best friend, and I never really expected something like this to happen and now everything feels weird, and this whole stupid date thing was his idea anyway and I—I don’t know.”Quinn watches you for a long moment, his expression carefully composed, but his fingers drum against the book’s spine, a restless tell you’ve come to recognise over the years.

“Did you want him to?” he finally asks, voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Your throat tightens. “Yeah,” you admit. “I think so.” Something flickers in Quinn’s expression—something darker, something unreadable—but it’s gone before you can place it. But then he nods, leaning back once more, like he’s forcing himself to relax.

“Okay,” he says simply.

You blink. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, but there’s something stiff in the way his shoulders move. “You both wanted it. He freaked out. Now you’re left here, overthinking it.”

You scowl. “Wow. Thanks for that groundbreaking analysis.”

Quinn lets out a short breath that might have been a laugh, but there’s something off about it. “Look,” he says, shifting in his seat. “Jack’s an idiot, but you already knew that. If he kissed you, it means something. Even if he doesn’t know what to do with it yet.”

You chew on your lip, considering that. “And if he decides it didn’t mean anything?” Quinn’s jaw tightens, his eyes darkening, and for the first time, there’s no mistaking it—the way his fingers dig into the book, the way his posture has gone rigid, the way his gaze lingers a second too long. It’s something plain and unguarded, flashing through his expression before he schools it into something steadier.

“Then he’s an even bigger idiot,” he says, but there’s an edge to it now, something sharp and unspoken.

A small, shaky laugh escapes you. “What would I do without you, Quintin?”

Quinn smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Crash and burn, probably.” You roll your eyes but feel a little lighter.

“Go get ready for movie night” he says, already heading for the stairs. “And stop overthinking. Jack’s got enough of that covered for the both of you.” You snort, watching as he disappears down the hall, leaving you alone in the quiet of the lake house. You exhale, leaning back against the couch, your mind still tangled with too many emotions. But for the first time since that kiss, it doesn’t feel quite so heavy.

+

+

A few hours later, the lake house is dimly lit, the TV flickering with the start of some comedy movie no one had really agreed on. Luke had insisted on picking, and after a brief argument about horror versus comedy, he’d won out—typical. Now, he’s stretched out across half the couch, his feet obnoxiously nudging your thigh every time he shifts.

“Move your feet, Luke,” you grumble, swatting at his shin.

Luke just grins, not bothering to budge. “I’m comfortable.”

“You’re intolerable.”

“I’m your favourite, so it's okay.” You roll your eyes but don’t bother fighting it. If there’s one thing you’ve learned over the years, it’s that Luke operates on pure chaos, and the more you argue, the more he doubles down. So you settle for grabbing a throw pillow and chucking it at his face. He yelps, laughing as he catches it, and the sound is enough to make something in your chest loosen.

“Actually my favourite is Quinn.” You snip back, trying to fight the urge to glance over at the oldest for any kind of approval, the most you get is the small snuff of a breathy laugh from his spot in the solo love seat on the edge of the room. 

When you had taken Quinn in earlier as you shuffled into the room with your very worn down and oversized pyjamas thrown on, you could tell he was still thinking about your conversation from earlier. His arms still crossed, his jaw tight, but he didn’t say anything. But as Luke shuffles up the couch, using the throw pillow you had just thrown at him as a cuddle buddy, his head falling on your lap you just barely see Quinn shift out of the corner of your eye. 

“You always smell so good." Luke hums, his voice muffled as he nestles his head more comfortably against your lap. You stiffen, just slightly, caught between exasperation and something warmer, something softer. Luke has never been the type to hide how he feels—about anything. Least of all you. It’s been that way since you met him, he was twelve the first time he had outwardly professed his love to you. 

"I think I love you." He had said as you both sat at the end of the boat dock, after a day of fun in the sun on the boat with your families, feet dipped in the water as the sun sets softly on the horizon. 

"I love you too, Lukey." You had mumbled back, of course you loved him, he was one of your best - maybe only - friends. 

"No, not like that." he had corrected, "I mean the way that my parents love each other." He had sounded so sure of himself, setting his resolve with a nod of his head, "Yep, you're it for me... my mum said it's like were two halves of the same person sometimes." Since then Luke had made it his mission to profess his undying devotion to you annually - usually towards the end of summer, when the air was crisper and just a little cold, it was an endless push and pull where he teases and flirts with absolutely no shame, and you pretend it doesn’t get to you.

Sometimes it doesn’t.

Sometimes it does.

“Like fabric softener and regret?” you quip, reaching down to flick the side of his forehead. He grins, lazy and content, shifting just enough so that his hair tickles against your fingers, the oversized man making it clear what he wants.

“Nah,” he murmurs. “Like… I don’t know. Something sweet. Something very… you.” You roll your eyes, but your stomach flutters anyway. 

“That’s the worst description I’ve ever heard.” Luke snickers, turning onto his side so he’s half-curled against you now, pillow still tucked to his chest, but his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your pyjama pants.

“You like it,” he says, and it’s not even a question.

“How about no.”

“You love me.”

“Debatable.” Luke just grins wider, as if he knows something you don’t. Maybe he does. The flickering glow from the TV casts a golden hue over his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the very slight dimple on his smile lines that only ever appears when he’s truly pleased with himself. The worst part is you can’t even deny it. Not really. You’ve known about his crush on you for as long as he’s had it, and maybe some part of you has always liked the way he never hides it, never shies away from making it obvious. Even when you pretend not to notice, even when you let it roll off your back like it doesn’t make something in your chest tighten just a little too much. Out of the corner of your eye, Quinn shifts in his seat. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t react beyond the subtle way his fingers tighten over his arm where they’re crossed. 

Still, you notice.

You always notice when it comes to Quinn. 

The same way you notice everything about the brothers. 

“Are you gonna let me watch the movie, or do I need to suffocate you with your pillow?” you ask, fingers digging into the soft curls on top of his head, brushing ever so lightly you can see the moment a shiver runs down his spine. Luke huffs dramatically, as if the mere suggestion is the greatest injustice he’s ever suffered. 

“If I die, just know I go out as your favourite.”

“That’s literally not what I said.”

“Not what you said, but what you meant.” He smirks up at you, pushing it just far enough, just to the edge of that unspoken line between you. The one you’ve both toed for so long it’s become second nature.

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, Quinn finally speaks up. “Luke, shut up and watch the movie.” It’s not sharp, not irritated. But it carries weight, enough to make Luke’s smirk falter just slightly. He doesn’t sit up, doesn’t move away from you, but he does shift just enough to glance toward Quinn. You do, too. Quinn’s eyes are still on the screen, but his fingers drum against his arm now, as if he’s trying very hard not to look over.

Luke exhales, a low chuckle leaving him as he turns his attention back to you. “Guess I’m being silenced.”

“Long overdue,” you murmur, but your fingers don’t move from where they’re still running through his hair. Luke notices. Of course, he does. And judging by the way his grin returns, slow and knowing, he doesn’t mind at all.

The movie wraps up with Luke fast asleep against your leg, his hand has shifted from holding tight to his pillow to sliding under the hem of your pyjama pants, grabbing tight hold of your ankle in some weird attempt at getting closer to you.  Jack had never come down to join the three of you, despite Wednesdays always being movie night. 

The credits roll, the blue glow of the TV casting shadows across the room. You stretch your arms over your head, careful not to jostle Luke too much, though it’s hard when he’s all but latched onto you. His grip on your ankle is warm, his hand encompassing the whole ankle, grounding in a way you don’t really want to think too hard about.

Quinn shifts in his seat, clearing his throat. “You gonna wake him up or just drag him to bed?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge there, something unreadable that makes you glance over at him. He’s finally looking at you now, instead of at the screen or the floor. His arms are still crossed, but his fingers continue to drum lightly against his bicep, the only indication that he’s not as relaxed as he pretends to be.

You huff a laugh. “Yeah, like I’m carrying him anywhere.” You prod at Luke’s shoulder. “Lukey Pookie, time to go to bed.” Luke groans dramatically but doesn’t move. Instead, he tightens his grip on your ankle, mumbling something incoherent into your lap.

Quinn sighs, pushing himself up and stretching, muscles shifting under his thin T-shirt. “Come on, Luke, up.” He nudges Luke’s leg with his foot, a little less gentle than necessary. Luke finally stirs, cracking one eye open to squint at Quinn.

“No need to be jealous,” Luke murmurs sleepily, but the smirk on his lips is unmistakable. "I'm sure she'd let you hold her ankle if you asked nicely."

Quinn’s jaw tightens. “You wish.” You watch the exchange, something in your chest twisting at the way Luke grins, knowing and a little mischievous, while Quinn pointedly avoids your gaze. It’s not the first time they’ve had these little moments, not the first time Quinn has stepped in when Luke pushed just a little too far. But it’s the way Quinn looks at you after, as if he wants to say something but never does, that lingers longer than it should. Luke finally sits up, stretching his arms over his head before flopping sideways against the couch, boneless and lazy. 

“Alright, fine, I’m up. So who’s next?”

You blink. “Next?” 

Luke grins, rubbing a hand through his messy curls. “The next date, obviously. Since we’re doing this whole ‘take turns’ thing. Who’s up?” Your stomach flips. You hadn’t really thought that far ahead. The first date had been a whirlwind, fun until it wasn't. But now… now the reality of the situation settles over you. You glance between them, both waiting, both watching.

Quinn leans against the arm of the couch, feigning nonchalance. “Doesn’t really matter who’s next.”

Luke scoffs. “Yeah, it does. Jack bombed his date so whoever is next needs to make theirs worth her while.” He looks at you again, head tilting. “What do you think? Got anyone in mind?” You hesitate. You know what he’s asking, you know he's hinting that he wants to go next. But your gaze drifts, just for a second, to Quinn. He’s watching you carefully, waiting.

Not pushing, not teasing, just… waiting, like he always does.

Luke notices. Of course, he does. His grin widens, slow and knowing. “Oh I see how it is,” he hums.

“Shut up,” you mutter, but your face feels warm. Instead of laughing it off, though, Luke leans back against the couch, studying you. 

“You know, it’s okay if you pick me,” he says, quieter this time, more serious. “I mean, I know I joke a lot, but…” He shrugs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’d make it a good one.” Something about the way he says it makes your heart skip. You’ve always brushed off his flirting, treated it as something easy, something playful. But this? The soft sincerity in his voice, the way he doesn’t look away—this is different.

You open your mouth, unsure what to say, but before you can, he flashes you a grin, easy and warm. “Just think about it, okay?”

Then he stands, stretching again. “Well, if it’s not me next, I better get my beauty sleep.” He winks before sauntering off down the hall, leaving you alone with Quinn. The air between you shifts, something quieter, something heavier. You look over at him again, but he’s already looking at the screen, where the movie menu is looping on repeat. His fingers drum against his arm again, thoughtful, as if he’s debating something.

Finally, he exhales, glancing at you. “If you want it to be me next… just say so.” His voice is steady, careful, but there’s something behind it, something that makes your breath catch.

You swallow hard. “We’ll see.” 

His lips twitch, the barest hint of a smirk, but he doesn’t press. He just nods once, then pushes off the couch. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Quinn.” He hesitates, just for a second, then turns and disappears down the hall, leaving you alone with a racing heart and too many thoughts to sort through.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Jack is one that if you aren’t paying attention to him because you’re cooking or reading. He will literally pout

Oh, yeah, big time! Like you're just making your breakfast, trying to fry an egg and he's sat there pouting because you won't cuddle or kiss him because you're dealing with hot oil, Jack! I'd love to do more of these short drabbles/prompts, especially any like dialogue prompts where people send me a single sentence/word/piece of dialogue and who they want it with like '"You're pretty..." with Luke' type vibes. Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"Baby..."

"Mmm...." You don't look up from the frying pan, too focused on the egg you're frying for your avocado toast sandwich, trying your best to avoid spitting oil as you cook and trying to get the perfect consistency for your yoke. (Failing miserably because who said you were a great cook?)

"Baby..." He's pouting now, not that you can see it because you're refusing to look at him and this is a fucking crime. He's just sat here and you're so close but you won't even look at him. His bottom lip juts out away from his top, eyes turning sad and pitiful like a puppy. Not that you notice, which makes his pout deeper.

"Yeah?" Still you don't look at Jack, your egg is nearly cooked and you move away to get your toast as it pops out of the toaster, slathering guacamole across both sides and bits of avocado, drizzling sriracha mayo over top.

Jack makes an executive decision, if you won't look at him then he'll just have to make you take notice of him. He picks the exact wrong moment to get up and slide his arms around your waist. The moment when you're transferring your egg to your sandwich and you nearly, nearly drop a boiling hot fried egg on your foot as a result.

"Jack!" You're quick to save the egg, getting it onto your toasted bread before putting the pan and spatula down. Jack's nuzzling into your neck, still pouting because you're more focused on your food than on him and it's not fair, he's been away for a week on a roadie and he's missed you. Didn't you miss him?

"You're ignoring me..."

"Jack, I'm not ignoring you but I need to eat my breakfast, you know how crazy my blood sugar gets..." You try to reason with him, putting the top bread on your sandwich and cutting it in half. He's latched onto you like a limpet on a rock, pressing little kisses to your neck, nose nuzzling against your skin in a way that is far too ticklish.

"You won't even look at me, do you not love me anymore?"

You can't help but laugh at him, turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck. Jack's pouting down at you, but there's a little twinkle in his baby blues that tells you he's messing about and just being silly.

"Of course, I love you, Jackie."

"But not as much as your stupid food." His pout manages to become deeper as he glares over your shoulder at your breakfast.

"I love you more. I promise. C'mere..." You cup his cheeks and smile at the way he melts into your palms, practically nuzzling into your hands as his pout melts away. You drag his face closer, pressing one, two, three kisses to his lips before attempting to pull away from him. You should have known that wasn't going to happen.

"Nooo...." He doesn't let you, hands sliding into your back pockets, cupping your arse and pulling you as close as possible. Jack's busy pressing kisses now to your cheeks and nose and you can't help but giggle, a laugh that puts his pout at rest and makes him smirk because he did that. He made you laugh. You're paying attention to him.

"Jack...I need to eat..." You say it between giggles, face scrunching as he kisses across it, finding any and every spot imaginable.

"But I wanna be close to you, baby..."

"Then I'll eat and sit on your lap, is that enough of a compromise?" You try your best to get him to release you, he takes a moment to think, pretending that the decision is a hard one.

"Okay, but I want kisses after."

"Deal."

[luveline]

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides. 

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out. 

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?” 

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?” 

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.” 

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.” 

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?” 

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function. 

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger. 

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes. 

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.” 

“Come in, please.” 

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual. 

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?” 

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.” 

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.” 

“It’s about that.” 

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.” 

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.” 

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?” 

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.” 

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? 

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you. 

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson. 

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask. 

“Months ago.” 

“And Sandy said yes.” 

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.” 

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid. 

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest. 

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.” 

“I need to go and tell Spencer.” 

“Spencer, your good friend.” 

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.” 

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for. 

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.” 

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says. 

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud. 

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder. 

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek. 

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” 

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.” 

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says. 

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds. 

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Can I request #94 ☁️ with Jack Hughes?

For some reason this prompt was really hard for me to write. Everything my brain was coming up was super dark, so I hope you like this nonnie. Also I hope you don't mind I changed "they" to "someone"

Drabble Masterlist

"Did they hurt you?"

When you walked into the club, all you wanted to do was have a few drinks with your friends and dance the night away. All you wanted was a few hours disconnected from the world to forget about the stress of the week and the stupid fight you got in with your boyfriend Jack. Instead, you somehow lost your friends in the crowd on the dance floor. Suddenly alone and a little drunk despite only having a few drinks. All you could feel is your quickened heartbeat as you tried to push your way through the crowd. The club had way too many people and suddenly you regretted even leaving your little apartment. You were craving air, somehow you were pushed to the ground in the mush-pit that was the dance floor. Finally crawling back up, you turned your body and pushed yourself through the crowd.

It took you until you were outside to realize that your fishnet stockings were ripped in multiple places, your makeup was smudged from the sweat of being inside the hot club and your hands were covered in little cuts from people stepping on your hands. Standing outside you could feel the crispy cold air from the beginning of fall in New Jersey. Without even thinking you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber to the one place you felt most safe.

Jack opened the door in shock to see you. Usually when you both had a fight you at least let each other cool off for a night. But once he took in your appearance, your slightly ripped clothes, the dried blood on your hands, the way you weren't breathing evenly his stomach dropped as he pulled you into his arms. He slightly kicked the door shut with his foot as he held you in the small entry of his apartment. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around your body, you clenched onto his t-shirt with your hands and fell into him as you sobbed. Your emotions from being intoxicated plus almost having a small anxiety attack in the club.

Without even thinking picked you up, automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist. One of his arms moving to pet your messy hair as he cooed in your ear. "shh baby, shh it's alright baby. your safe baby. promise." His promise making you cry a little harder maybe out of relief for knowing it's true. With your eyes closed and your head tucked into Jack's neck you didn't even know where he was carrying you until you felt him try to put you down.

"no. no. no" speaking for the first time since you got here. Jack held you tighter trying to reassure you that you were okay.

"baby I'm just gonna let you sit on the sink in the bathroom. I'm gonna wash your makeup off okay, and I wanna clean your hands." he whispered to you softly. Slowly you let Jack sit you down on the end of his sink, still standing between your legs. He reaches behind you in the cabinet next to the mirror and grabs his first aid kit and your makeup wipes he keeps in stock for you. Finally getting a good at your hands his jaw locks suddenly feel anger form in the pit of his stomach. "honey" he cooed at you, lightly grabbing one of your hands and you winced. "Did someone hurt you?" All you could do is nod looking down at your own hands. "Who?" he asked sharply, without a doubt thinking of ways to hunt them down in the moment.

"I got pushed to the ground somehow at the club." you admitted shyly suddenly embarrassed about being pushed around so easily. Jack grabbed an alcohol wipe and started lightly cleaning your hands.

"That's not okay." he said bitterly. "Where were your friends?" Even though he sounded bitter, his touch was soft as he was focused on cleaning your hand and then putting Neosporin on it.

"lost them in the crowd."

Finishing with that hand, he moved on to the next without saying a word. Then he threw away all the trash from cleaning your hands and pulled out a makeup wipe. He still hadn't spoken but you didn't need him to, just the fact that he was the one cleaning you up made you feel better. His eyebrows were creased focusing on getting your stubborn makeup off without having to put too much pressure on your face. His tongue slightly sticking out as he grabbed another makeup wipe, you closed your eyes your body relaxing to the feeling.

"baby?" Jack asked softly.

"hmm"

"Gotta make sure you don't have any other cuts. Do you wanna change here or in my room?" He asked his arms softly wrapping around you as you felt yourself craving sleep.

"bed. I wanna go to bed." you whined. Jack lightly chuckled. He carried you to his bed lightly sitting you down, without hesitation you flopped onto the bed.

"Oh no you don't" Jack said as he took your arm to pull you back up to sitting.

"I wanna go to bed." you complained again.

"And we can once you change." he reasoned.

"too tired you do it." you mumbled too tired to even open your eyes.

"okay honey if that's what you want." lightly kissing your forehead before letting you lay down on the bed, your legs hanging off the edge as Jack got you one of his t-shirts and boxers to change into. You could feel Jack struggling trying to change you but you couldn't bring yourself to change. He found another deep cut on your knee and cleaned it without you even twitching. He knew you were deep in sleep by now.

Finally he cleaned everything up and climbed into bed with you. He pulled you close to him and you slightly moved to form around his body. He didn't know if you were awake or not but he still kissed your forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't there tonight." he whispered not expecting you to answer.

"It's okay. You cleaned me up and your here now that's more important." you mumbled wrapping your arms around Jack tighter and slipping back into unconsciousness.

[cowboycherry]

🍒 :; slim pickins

summary!

bf! rafe x chubby! reader. you’ve been seeing the ‘slim pickins’ trend going around, and you beg your boyfriend to do it with you.

inclusions/warnings!

fluffy, fluffy, fluffy!! reading through it, i think it’s a bit rushed?? rafe is a cutie and loves his girlfriend. reader is referred to as ‘baby’ and ‘mama’. slightly suggestive at the end. reader is chubby and NOT insecure bc we love self confidence round in these parts. just a little itty bitty blurb bc i’ve been seeing so many people do this trend and it makes me want rafe to do it w me

word count!

400+

ˏ`୭̥*ೃ author’s note! :; dropping this before i finish editing a request for a sebastian stan fic! super excited for that, but have this fluffy rafe blurb for meantime. (also, i’m making a tag list since i’m going to start writing more, so if you want to be added to that lmk! you can request to only be added to certain fics and such, just lmk what you want, angels.)

i love you, and thank you for being here ♡

“raaafe,” you pout at your boyfriend, tugging on his bicep in a poor attempt to make him stand in front of your propped up phone. “it’s easy! already explained it t’you— you just gotta pick me up and, like, sit me on your shoulder.”

rafe glances down at your hands tugging his arm, an amused smile on his face even though he doesn’t want it to be there. he just can’t help it. “yeah, baby, and i told you that i don’t wanna be in any of your lil tiktoks,” he snorts, but he allows you to pull him in front of your phone.

“but it’s a couple’s trend! well, for the most part,” you hum to yourself, eagerly stepping away to get the timer ready. “okay, the lyrics are ‘a boy who’s jacked and kind’ and you’re just s’posed to lift me somewhere while she’s singing that,” you explain animatedly, definitely rambling more than is necessary.

“uh huh. got it,” rafe nods once, and even though he looks much less enthusiastic than you are, he’s still happy that he’s making you happy.

you start the timer, quickly padding back across the hardwood floor to him and standing in front of him. “three, two…” you count down quietly, more for yourself, and then mouth the lyrics along to sabrina carpenter’s voice.

you’re unable to stop the squeal that escapes you when rafe effortlessly grips your hips, hoisting you up and perching you onto his shoulder like it’s nothing. his hand moves to comfortably rest on your thigh, gently squeezing the flesh there.

the tiktok is done filming, the video playing back on a loop as giggles bubble past your lips- both from being a little flustered by your very attractive boyfriend and from awe that he didn’t seem strained in the slightest. “i didn’t expect for you to do that so easily,” you admit softly, your hand resting on top of his.

rafe scoffs, “the fuck does that mean?” he asks you, but you can hear the playfulness, the teasing in his tone. “think i’m weak or somethin’, mama?” he grips your hips again, but instead of planting your feet back onto the ground, he drops you onto the couch.

“rafe?” you murmur in confusion before shrieking when his fingers start to dance over your ribs.

“can’t believe it. my baby doesn’t think i can fuckin’ lift her,” rafe tsks in mock disappointment. “guess i need to start showin’ you better, huh?” he grins mischievously down at you, leaning in and starting to press kisses from your face down your neck, and you know you’re in for a long afternoon.

© cowboycherry 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my content. all work is my own, and until further notice, will be proofread by only myself.

[obessedd]

－𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐓. 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔. 𝐇𝐂

⇨⚠︎︎ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 !¡⚠︎︎⇦ smut, perverted thoughts, jacking off, missionary, doggy, ass!kink, thigh!kink, ass slapping, choking, cussing, black!reader

𝐀𝐍. In honor of demon slayer coming back out In two months I decided to write a smut of my three favorite characters, If you guys like this mini smut story give me more characters to write about! enjoy my lovely’s.

- 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

— 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈

you were all he could think about.

hot and bothered with thoughts clouding his mind from moments ago. you had him pinned to the ground straddling his waist, with your sword pressed against his neck.. and skirt slid up to your upper thigh. he didn’t know how you were even fast enough to pin him down like that but once you did that’s when it started. feeling your ass right on top of his dick and thighs being exposed sent pleasure throughout his body, making these thoughts cloud his mind. he threw down his sword by his futon slamming the door in frustration leaning against it clenching his fists together.

this was your fault..all your fault for making him feel like this. he cussed under his breath hearing his thoughts get louder and needier by the second for you. thinking about how perfectly your ass was ontop of him made him think..how good would you be? sliding his whole length into you as you clenched around him trying to take all of him whimpering and begging for him to take It out..fuck. he groaned to himself feeling his pants get tight, it was just begging to get released he was needy, he was desperate. he trailed his hand down to his belt tugging it off in one go seeing how hard his dick had gotten, “shit..” he mumbled pulling off his boxers grabbing ahold of his dick slowly starting to stroke himself.

the pre cum that was already leaking from his tip, dripped along his fingers as his imagination got deeper into detail. he imagined it was your pussy instead of his hand stroking up and down at a steady pace. he threw his head against the door closing his eyes with a groan picking up the pace more. his thoughts got louder and more realistic as he kept a steady pace, he was fucking you, missionary style with his hand wrapped around your throat as soppy tears ran down your face, begging for him to stop. your legs thrown over his shoulder as his hips bucked deeper inside your needy little cunt ignoring your pleads, focusing on your orgasm and his. he couldn’t stop thinking about it, he wanted to be inside you, he wanted to cum inside you. you’re driving him insane and you don’t even know it. he growled under his breath feeling that familiar knot fill his stomach, keeping up the same pace, “fucking shit y/n.” he whispered with a small moan feeling wet liquid run down his hand along his thigh, onto his floor, his heart rate went up and down as he stroked slow letting himself calm down from his orgasm. he opened his eyes, half lidded as he stared at nothing but the wall in his room with a sigh but chuckled after looking at the mess he made. he couldn’t believe he got horny just by the practice fight you guys had, but did he regret it?

“nah.”

— 𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔

poor guy couldn’t help himself.

It was like any other day but today was more different, you and Tomioka had a mission together after awhile of being assigned solo missions. you guys had a task of finding a demon that was terrorizing a small village in the mountains, when the fight occurred you were left with your uniform torn and ruined. the pants that you normally wore and was apart of your uniform, had been cut low almost like a skirt showing off the lower half. it didn’t seem like a big deal to you because it was just your thighs showing but unfortunately for Tomioka..his minds had other plans. after the whole mission all he could think about was your thighs..how perfect they were..how big they were, imagining the marks and kisses on them. shit. he shouldn’t be thinking about you in that way, you were his friend— but he couldn’t help himself, the thoughts about you got louder and louder by the second it was driving him mad.

his hand clenched and unclenched trying to think about something completely different but your thighs kept coming to his mind, his eyes were squeezed shut trying to stop think about you but it wasn’t working. the more dirty thoughts he was having the more his pants were tightening, his eyes shot wide open staring at the dark ceiling with a fast heart rate, “I shouldn’t be thinking about her..” he murmured to himself feeling like a pervert for thinking about you like this but he couldn’t help himself. he didn’t even think just by your thighs showing he would become a mess but he was always Into that..even if he doesn’t wanna admit, he would always steal glances anytime you decided to wear something short with your uniform. he just wanted to leave hickeys all over those gorgeous thighs..he wanted them wrapped around his waist pulling him tighter as he fucked you. tomioka sucked in a breath trailing his hand through the covers towards his pants, tugging them off. he bit his lip already feeling the pre cum drip down his hand with a small blush on his cheeks starting to slowly stroke himself. his eyes fluttered closed leaning more into his pillow with a small whimper escaping his lips, he continued to stroke himself to the thought of you..your thighs.

he wondered what it would feel like if he fucked them. his cock being rubbed against your thighs as he chased his orgasm wanting to paint them with his cum, thinking about the idea only made him pick up the pace having more moans and desperate whines being heard he kept going and going feeling cum start to leak out. “f-fuck y/n” he choked feeling himself all over his hand, breaths getting faster as his heart race got faster letting his orgasm take over. he twitched in his hand, still stroking at a small pace riding out his orgasm onto his bed sheets feeling himself calm down. his eyes opened lifting the blankets up to see the mess he made, he sighed dropping the blanket back on-top of him starting to feel guilty.

but..It felt so damn good It was worth It.

— 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍

he didn’t feel ashame.

you were clouding his mind that day. due to shortage of hashira’s taking solo missions you and tengen assigned a duo mission. It was like any other mission, you guys go together, fight the demons, and come back to headquarters. but for this case it was a four day mission, the mission took place at the fast side of Japan, most likely east to find a small village that was being terrorized by multiple demons. you and tengen had to find out what has been terrorizing the village and how to stop it, it took some time to complete the mission but you guys managed and completed your duties. on the final night of the mission was the night it changed it all. since the village was small and not that many places to sleep you and Uzui had to share a bed together. It was weird at first but you knew he wasn’t gonna do anything- he was your friend after all.

Or so you thought.

the one thing he did not know was that In your sleep you moved a lot. to the point it happens every hour, Uzui was laid behind you as you were laid infront of him sound asleep with small snores leaving your mouth. you were lucky you could even sleep, for him…you kept backing up against it kept him awake for the past two hours. the feeling of your ass rubbing against his dick felt too fucking good, to pass it up. he had to hold back the urge to grip your hips in place to make you stop but..did he really want this feeling to go away?. he groaned lowly feeling your ass grind up against him for the 50th time that night making him gain a boner. It was aching to be touched..he cussed under his breath feeling his dick throb in his pants the more you kept moving, “shit..” he mumbled, he couldn’t take it anymore. he lifted the blankets up removing himself from the bed making his way to the bathroom closing the door. In a matter of seconds he pulled his pants down taking his throbbing sick into his hands hissing from the feeling. “oh fuck..” He moaned leaning his head against the door stroking himself slow with his eyes closed. the thought of him fucking you doggy style made his strokes go faster, ass slapping against him, fucking you deep and hard slapping your ass every once in awhile just to see it move had him grinding into his hand.

his imagination was running wild. he wondered how tight your pussy would feel around him when he fucks you rough, gripping your ass with his bigger hand, just wanting to rub and feel it. heavy breathes and groans were being heard behind the door as you were still sound asleep, he chanted small fucks feeling his climax reach his peak. he kept going and going till he released all over his hand, stomach and the floor. he breathed heavily trying to calm himself down from his climax continuing to stroke himself feeling more come out. he chuckled lowly looking down at the mess he made with a grin,

“fucking hell.”

[dannyz0ur]

hii i was wondering if you can do ej nsfw with a s/o whos into bloodplay ?! :3

guhh I truly apologize for the delay 😓 gonna keep trying to write... more... often... i promise...

You'd been going at it with Jack for about an hour already, the wall most likely was already indented by the bed frame. But you weren't even close to being done yet, God no. You never lasted less than two hours with this... feral lover of yours.

He'd always hit the right spot, so good, so deep. Almost effortlessly, he picked you up with one arm and steadied himself with the other one, bringing your back flush to his chest; so much you weren't even in a proper doggy-style position, he was just holding you up all the way.

And, goodness, the way he'd make you dizzy with each thrust. Even if he went slow and deep, or he just rutted his hips against yours in a desperate manner, it always managed to make you cockdrunk and slobber all over yourself. He was just that good.

You were only pulled out of your daze when you came for the fourth time in the night, triggering Jack's first orgasm of the session. Being all shaky and overstimulated at the end of all this was worth it, you thought, for the look of bliss he has when he sees his cum slowly flow out your hole. Or holes, if it was a special occasion...

What really made you come back to reality, even though your orgams would've been enough, was a sharp pain you felt on the crook of your neck at the same time Jack groaned, spilling his load in you. He'd bitten you, buried his sharp teeth in your flesh so deep he could almost just take a bite out of you right then and there.

You would've expected it to make you yelp in pain. So did Jack.

Instead, you moaned.

You moaned louder than when you came. Louder than when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix over and over. With post-nut clarity, Jack was concerned by the trickle of blood flowing out of your neck, but you merely whimpered at the dull pain you felt.

"Sweetheart... are you okay?" Jack whispered in your ear once his fangs detached from your flesh, still sticky with your blood. The sweetest treat Jack had ever tasted. "I... I apologize, I don't know what I was thinkin-"

"Again."

"What?"

"Again... bite me again."

You were serious. Even though a single tear--of overstimulation or pain, Jack couldn't really tell--slid down your cheek, you had this determination in your lust-blown eyes that Jack knew all too well. The kind of determination you had the first time you'd encouraged him to take his mask off in front of you. You'd been so sweet, yet so fixed on getting what you wanted from him. And you always managed to get your way.

You knew that playing with Jack's instincts was dangerous. Yet, you couldn't help but arch your back and let out a choked up moan once he buried his teeth in the flesh of the opposite side of your neck again. And again. And again. Because he couldn't get enough of your moans. Of you.

Your neck was quickly covered with bite marks and blood. Jack was losing it—taking little hints of what you could taste like every time he bit into your flesh, savoring your blood. It was nearly miraculous how you weren’t passing out when he was brutally pounding into you, practically making you bleed out.

His moans were more animalistic each time, his thrusts deeper and more messy. He was being an absolute beast, a flesh-eating beast, and you could only moan and pant with what was left of your strength. You took so much time to recover after that night...

so short... but i hope you liked it... 😓

[dambaepuff]

LIKE OR LIKE LIKE

☆Pairing: Roomate!Jeongguk x GN!Reader

☆Genre: Non!Idol AU, light angst, fluff, smut, one-shot

☆Warnings: swear words, Sub!JK, Dom!Reader, making out, hand job, fingering (m receiving)

☆Word count: 3k

☆Summary: After Jeongguk’s Valentines date bailed on him, he came home defeated and upset. In your attempt to comfort him things get heated.

☆A/N: I hope you’ll enjoy this valentines special!! This is my first time writing smut sooo I’m not sure how great it turned out. Once again, I do not have a beta reader and English isn’t my first language so I apologize if there’s any mistakes.

You sat down onto your couch with a huff, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. Almost every single channel had a a romance movie playing, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. You turned on a streaming service, your irritation only growing when the front page recommended romance shows and movies. Jeongguk, your roommate and crush of three years was out on a date with some girl currently. You were never one to really care about Valentine’s Day, but knowing someone else was sneaking their way into his heart whilst you spent the evening home alone made you despise the holiday’s existence. Typing the title of a movie you’d been meaning to watch for ages now into the search bar, you turned it on and let yourself relaxed into the couch cushions. A couple of minutes in, you heard the door of your apartment unlock.

Craning your neck towards the sound you watched as Jeongguk walked in, the bouquet you had helped him pick out earlier that day loosely gripped in his hand. He sluggishly took off his shoes and jacked, dropping the assortment of flowers onto your kitchen counter. “How’d the date go?” You asked, looking up at him from your seat. “It didn’t go.” He answered in a flat tone. “What?” You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his cryptic answer. “She didn’t show up. Only sent a text like half an hour after we were supposed to meet saying she forgot and made other plans.” He explained as he sat down next to you, looking defeated and tired. A deep frown formed on your lips, feeling sympathetic towards your roommate. You put a hand onto his shoulder, hoping to bring him some form of comfort. “Should we watch cheesy movies and order takeout? We can be alone and date-less together then.” You suggested, trying to cheer him up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He sniffled lightly and fully let himself lean back into the couch. Now that his face was closer to yours you realized his eyes were glossy and red, his nose tinted a light pink as if he had been continuously wiping it. “Hey, you wanna talk about it?” You asked, your eyebrows being pulled together by worry. “Well, it’s not really like I wanted to go on that date with her so badly it’s just that,” he took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “-it made me feel so… so shit. You know? Like I,” He pursed his lips together, trying his hardest to not let tears escape his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess, it’s affecting my self esteem? I felt like,” He couldn’t keep his tears anymore. The dams broke, tear droplets freely falling off his long lashes now. “I felt like…” A quiet sob stopped him from finishing his sentence. Your hands came up to grab his, running your thumbs over his knuckles in hopes of calming him down. “I felt like a fucking loser!” He finally managed to get out, your heart breaking at the look in his eyes. Hatred filled his dark irises, but not towards his date who bailed, but rather at himself. You pulled him into an embrace, unable to muster up words to console him. He gladly leaned in, gripping your shirt and crying into your chest. You let his warm tears soak through the cloth, not caring about anything other than giving him the comfort he needed so desperately. One of your hands softly stroked through his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles into his back. After giving him a moment to cry his heart out you started to quietly mumble reassurances into his ear. “Jeongguk you’re so handsome and kind, maybe it’s for the best she showed her true colors so early on. You deserve so much better. Someone who can give you the respect and love you deserve, someone who will be there for you when no one else is.” You placed a fleeting peck onto the crown of his head, causing him to snuggle further into your chest. The two of you cuddled till he calmed down, letting comfortable silence consume you.

“Maybe you’re right.” He muttered against you, the sound coming out muffled. “Hm, about what?” You asked, your hand that had stilled resuming the mindless movement on his back. “Finding someone who’s right for me is so hard,” he said, lifting his head up to look at you. “especially when they’re right in front of me.” He finished his sentence. “Right in front of you?” You tilted your head in confusion, not quite understanding what he meant. He tentatively leaned up closer to you, stopping a couple of centimeters away from your face. “Can I do something?” He asked, his warm breath tickling the skin of your face. You only gave a small nod, your heart rate beginning to pick up. His gaze dropped down to your lips, slowly he leaned in closer again, placing his soft lips onto yours. It only lasted a short moment, the kiss being a mere peck, but it made a million butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest, the circulation making your skin heat up.

“Hm, maybe try it again. For good measure.” You whispered feeling bold. The corner of his lip quirked up, he hummed in agreement and closed the gap between you again. This time the kiss lasted longer, his hand snuck up to cup the side of your face as he moved his lips against yours. He began to be more sloppy, opening his mouth more against yours and letting your saliva mix. You gladly let it happen, trying to slip your tongue past his lips. He got the memo and let it slide in, quietly moaning as his tongue pushed against yours. He disconnected your lips to get some air, climbing onto you and straddling your lap. Your hands instinctively went to hold his hips making him put his arms around your neck and resume making out with you. Groaning against his lips the kisses became more messy, teeth and tongues clashing in desperation. He ground his hips down onto yours, searching for friction to aid his hardening cock.

You started trailing kisses down the side of his face, stopping at his jaw to lightly nibble at the soft flesh. He huffed and tangled his fingers into yours hair, giving it a light tug. You continued to place messy kisses down his neck, bitting and sucking at his skin. In response he moaned, more loudly this time. Taking it as a sign to keep going you carried on with bruising his neck. His hips started to speed up, the grinding turning into humping. One of your hands snaked to his lower stomach, slipping it under his shirt and playing with the waistband of his pants. You slid your thumb inside it, gently stroking the flesh right above his cock. He softly whined into your ear, gripping your wrist to try guiding your hand where he needed it most. “Eager now, are we?” You teased and switched your kisses to pecks. “Please, I want you to touch me.” He whispered, trying to hump up against your hand. Deciding to be merciful, you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled out his erect dick. He moaned at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him, biting down onto his lip in anticipation. You pulled away from his neck to get a good look at face. Whilst maintaining eye contact you let go of his cock, bringing your hand up you spat into your palm. He only watched you with hooded eyes, shivering at what was to come. Slowly you lathered up his dick, leisurely starting to twist your wrist around it. He lightly thrusted up into your hand, having to keep himself restrained from snapping his hips up like an animal in heat, but to no avail, he couldn’t help himself.

You barely even had to move your hand, he did most of the work by fucking up into it like a hormonal teenager who had never felt intimacy before. Your knuckles would occasionally skim against his lower stomach, making him shudder from the ticklish feeling on his sensitive skin. He whined out your name, his voice cracking as he pathetically rutted up into your fist. In the meantime, your other hand had gotten busy with kneading the flesh of his ass. You had been eyeing the supple flesh since you first met the man, always secretly wondering what kind of noises he’d make as your fingers filled him up to the rim. Gathering up the courage, you decided to ask him if you could finger his ass. “Jeongguk,” You quietly said, trying to get his attention. “Yes?” He replied breathily, slowing his thrusts down. “Can I finger you?” You asked looking up at him. “Fuck.” He felt his balls tense up as his empty hole clenched, the mere question almost making him cum. “Yes. Fuck, please do.” He huskily replied, his hips coming to a stop. “Take your pants off pretty boy.” You instructed as you tapped his hip, signaling for him to get off of you. He obediently came off and started taking off his pants together with his boxers. You got up from the couch and started walking to your room. “I need to go fetch some lube real quick. You can lose the shirt too.” You cheekily winked at him and looked him up and down. The tips of his ears reddened and he nodded dumbly at you.

Pulling your nightstand drawer open, you dug around the cluster or objects in search for the lubricant. Once you found it you quickly made your way back to the living room. On the couch laid Jeongguk in all his glory. Sprawled out with his legs wide open for you, completely naked and ready for you to destroy him. You knelt down between his legs pecking his knee and starting to litter kisses down towards his inner thigh. He shuddered, the chilly air of the living room and the feeling of your lips against his skin too much for him to bare. He lightly arched his back, his nipples hardening from the cold. You massaged his outer thigh as you popped the lid of the lube open with your thumb. “You ready?” You asked to which he hummed in reply. Raising an eyebrow at him you awaited a verbal answer, which he quickly scrambled to give. “Y-yes!” He stammered out. “Good.” You simply replied and started to apply the clear substance onto two of your fingers. “Relax, I can’t do anything if you’re tense.“ You said as you leaned down to give him a tender kiss. He took in a deep breath and relaxed his muscles with an exhale.

Your fingers lightly grazed his rim, testing the waters of his sensitivity. “S’cold.” He mumbled against your lips. “I know baby.” You replied an continued kissing him. Softly you pushed your middle finger against his hole, slowly easing in the tip of your finger. Seeing no signs of discomfort you continued pushing in till you hit the base of your knuckles. He sighed into your mouth, his hand coming up to rest on your bicep. “It it okay? Can I move it?” You questioned. “Mhm! S’okay.” He drowsily replied. You began to move your finger slowly, pumping it in and out of him. Jeongguk squirmed underneath you, letting out soft pants and gasps at the new sensation. Wiggling your finger around inside him, you deemed him ready enough to add another digit. “I’ll add another, okay?” You said as you slid your hand down his chest and towards his stomach. “Yes!” He replied breathlessly. Sliding the finger that was already inside of him almost all the way out, you probed at his entrance gently with the one next to it. They both went in with relative easy, making Jeongguk’s breathing become even more shallow once your knuckles reached the skin of his ass. You started pumping again, the lubricant making squelching noises. Once you were sure he was used to your fingers, you moved the hand which was resting on his stomach to take a hold of his neglected cock. The moan he let out the moment you touched his dick was like music to your ears, making you feel your own arousal grow.

You laid down onto the couch so your head was between his legs now. Nosing at his inner thigh you started to kiss and bite the skin. You trailed the kisses further down, stopping right in front of his cock. You looked up at him, admiring how his abdominal muscles would twitch when you pressed down especially deep inside of him. His head was thrown back, his Adams’s apple bobbing as he desperately tried to swallow down the excess spit forming in his mouth from his continuous moaning. You watched his face closely as you stopped jerking him off, waiting for him to look down at you so he can see you take his cock into your mouth. Just as you expected, he rolled his head, letting it drop forward as he stared down at you. “Why’d you sto-ah!” His question was cut off by his own moan the moment you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He threw his head back again, his hips lifting off of the couch against his will. You wrapped your lips against his tip, lightly sucking whilst your hand jerked him off, occasionally squeezing the base of his cock and lightly bobbing your head. Purposely you drooled onto his cock, watching as the saliva slid down to his balls. With one last lick to his tip, you made your way downwards and began to lick and suck at his balls. He kept on bucking up into you, chasing his high with fervor. “Ah! I think I’m gonna- I think I’m gonna…” He panted, trying to let you know about his approaching orgasm through his whines of pleasure.

You took his cock back into your mouth, moving your head up and down the length in the same rhythm as the fingers which you were still pumping inside of him. With one last drawn out moan his hips spasmed and he came into your throat. The pleasure of his orgasm jolted through his entire body, leaving him shaking and whining at the overwhelming sensation. He lightly pushed you away when he came down from his high, his form going limp underneath you. You swallowed down every drop of cum he had to offer, pulling away from his cock with a wet pop. You sat up onto your knees, looking down at him you admired your work, enjoying seeing him become such a mess for you. You quickly fetched a towel to clean him up and brought him a glass of water which he eagerly gulped down. The moment you laid down next to him, he climbed onto you and snuggled into your chest. “I didn’t do anything for you, I’m sorry.” He mumbled looking up at you. “Nonsense, I’m just happy I could help fix your mood.” You responded and soon the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“You ever smoked cigarettes after having sex?” You ask out of the blue. Jeongguk looks up at you in confusion, letting out a short giggle. “What? Like the band?” He asks, his doe eyes staring up at you. “Yeah, like the band.” You softly smile down at him, moving his bangs away from his forehead. “You wanna go have a cigarette and listen to them?” Your smile spread wider as you proposed the idea. “That sounds kind of nice actually.” He replied and lifted himself off of your chest to sit up. You helped him get dressed and grabbed your cigarettes and both of your jackets before making your way out onto the balcony with him. You put Cigarettes After Sex on shuffle and pull out a cigarette for each of you. Placing one of them into Jeongguk’s mouth you took a lighter out of your pocket. Your thumb slides across the spark wheel twice before you successfully light a flame. The two of you maintained eye contact while you lifted it up to his cigarette, watching him inhale the smoke. You light your own and melted into your seat, enjoying the quiet music playing in the background.

Jeongguk’s eyes remain transfixed on your side profile as you look out towards the distance, completely lost in thought. “Hey, Uhm (Y/N)?” He says before taking another drag of smoke to which you hum in response. “What are we?” The question echoes through your mind, makes a small lump form in your throat. “Hm, I don’t know.” You reply simply, not wanting to look at him in fear that he’d say he only wanted to be friends. After all this time of longing for him and watching him go on those stupid dates, you couldn’t handle being friend-zoned, especially subsequently to finally getting a taste of him. “Whatever you want I guess.” You add on, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. In the corner of your eye you can see his form slightly deflate. “Would you… not want to be with me?” He asked in a meek tone, turning his head toward the opposite direction. Seeing this as your chance to finally tell him how you feel, you let your tongue loose. “I would. Any day in any universe I would. I’ve wanted to be with you since we first met if I’m being honest, I guess I’ve just,” you paused, taking a moment to choose your next words. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a fucking moron Jeon Jeongguk. I mean seriously what would make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you? I’ve been way too obvious, I thought you knew I liked you.” The words pour out of you before you can stop them, leaving both of you a bit surprised. “Do you just like me or do you like like me?” He questioned, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Are we in middle school or something?” You grinned at him, teasing his choice of words. “I like like you Jeongguk.”

[tkwrites]

Welcome Home - Nico Hischier x ofc

gif from turbolainen

Title: Welcome Home

Part VI in the It Doesn’t Matter AU

It Doesn't Matter Masterlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Nico Hischier x Lena (ofc)

Summary: Lena welcomes Nico home from a road trip in a way he's only dreamed of.

Warnings: Smut (18+ Only!), heavy nipple play, unprotected p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!)

Word count: 1,800

Comments: I had no intention of posting another Nico and Lena piece so soon, but this came to me last night and practically wrote itself. I was half asleep through part of it, so please forgive any mistakes. In many ways, it's extremely self indulgent, but I think you'll enjoy it, too.

Nico and Lena continue to be my spiciest AU. They just can't keep their hands off each other.

If you did enjoy this fic, please consider letting me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Welcome Home

Hey, I’m sorry but I’m in the middle of something. Can you catch a ride home with Jack and Luke? 

This message should have been his first clue Lena was up to something. She never bailed on plans like this. He’d been looking forward to her picking him up after the road trip. Not just because it meant he got to see her sooner, but because part of him really liked being seen with her, now that the guys knew they were together. 

She wouldn’t bail without reason, though. So, he swallowed his disappointment down and responded, Sure. See you soon. 

When Nico opened the apartment door, he’d expected to find Lena at her easel, working on a painting, having asked him to ride with Jack because she wasn’t in a good stopping place. She did that occasionally before bed, staying up to get it just right. 

Instead, she was casually leaning her butt against the back of the couch, wearing nothing but a red silk slip with delicate black lace at the neck and hem.

“I wanted to welcome you home,” she said with a sultry smile. 

“I…” he couldn’t even form words. Speech was for greater men than him. He could barely even think. 

“Didn’t want to ruin the surprise by picking you up in this,” she teased, pulling at the hem. 

He nodded, dumbly, reveling in the knowledge that she'd done this just for him.

One of the seven nights he was gone, they were talking on the phone when she’d asked him what kind of lingerie he liked. He’d told her he didn’t really know (anything would look incredible on her), but he’d always dreamed of coming home from a roadie to his girlfriend waiting for him in lingerie. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that she would ask him to ride with Jack so she could make it a reality.

Relishing the way his eyes raked over her again, Lena smiled. It was so easy to fulfill this fantasy, especially when she already had this nightie in Devils colors. She’d only worn it for someone once before but wore it on her own plenty. She loved the feel of it - the brush of the silk against her nipples turned her knees to jello nearly every time.  

“I missed you,” she said, taking slow steps toward him. 

The way the fabric lifted slightly with each sway of her hips made his mouth water. God, she was so beautiful. 

“I missed you, too,” he managed to say. 

This fantasy she was bringing to life had his heart banging in his chest. 

“Yeah?” she asked. “How much?” 

“So much,” he moaned, finally reaching out to touch her. The silk was just as soft as it looked. 

“You wanna show me how much?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. 

Licking his lips, he nodded. 

She leaned up to brush her lips over his - barely even touching. His mouth buzzed in anticipation. “Come show me then,” she said before turning to walk down the hall.

He swore in German and then in French before finally saying, “you’re fucking incredible.” 

She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes, “coming?” 

It was all the prompting he needed. He ran to follow her. By the time he got into their room, she was climbing up on the bed, giving him a perfect view of her ass. A desperate noise crawled up his throat. 

He waited for her to get comfortable, sitting up on the bed before he asked, “what did you have in mind?”

“You’re showing me how much you missed me, remember?” 

Nodding, he tore at his clothes, stripping off the hoodie and shorts until he stood before her in nothing but boxer briefs. 

“Off or on?” she asked, pulling the lace hem of her nighty up her thigh. 

“On,” he panted, eyes dragging over her again. He wanted to be the one to take it off.

Her smile let him know he'd made the right choice. 

“This is incredible,” he said, running a finger under one of the straps as he brought his body closer to hers. 

“I like how it feels,” she admitted. And before she could stop herself, she continued, “I’m about 96 percent sure you could get me off just by playing with my nipples through it.” 

His eyes were drawn down to them automatically. They seemed to pebble under his gaze, poking against the fabric. “Yeah?” he asked, voice gone husky. 

“I had an ex who almost got me there but moved on right before I was about to come,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Nico wrinkled his nose. “Was he blind?” She wasn’t difficult to read. She always moaned and rocked her hips up three or four times when she was about to crest. 

“Something like that,” she giggled. In reality, he’d mistaken her groan of frustration as one of desire and slid into her, shooting off before she  even had the chance to come. 

“Do you want me to try?”

She bit her lip and nodded, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“Where?” he asked.

“Where?” she repeated, confused. Hadn't they just talked about where she wanted to he touched? 

“Where do you want to be?” he clarified, gesturing to his lap as an example. “What position?” He could not be relied upon to communicate well when she was wearing this for him. 

“Oh,” she blushed. As she closed her eyes, trying to envision what would feel best, one of her hands drifted up, fondling herself through the silk. Her core throbbed to life between her legs. The fact that Nico wanted to do this for her turned her on nearly as much as the caress of her own fingers. 

Her face softened, and Nico groaned. He flirted with the idea of letting her continue, wanting to see her get herself off like this. On the other hand, he was supposed to be showing her. And he wanted to touch her. He always wanted to touch her.

Reaching forward, he knocked her hand out of the way so he could tweak her nipple instead. 

Her head fell back, and she moaned, “lighter.”

“Hu?”

“I want you to touch lighter,” she said, “like this.” She reached up, gently pinching one of the sensitive nubs before dragging the silk over the tip. It felt so good — slippery and cool. A whisper on her sensitive skin.

He took her instruction, relaxing his touch.

Her back arched, pressing closer as his thumb lightly circled the peak. “Oh my god. That feels so good,” she breathed. “Don't stop.”

His left hand came up to join the right, repeating the treatment on her other breast. 

“Fuck, Nico. Oh, yes.”

Her chest heaved a deep breath, and her hips began to roll. 

“Here,” Nico said, momentarily abandoning his mission so he could get them in a better position.

She whined at the loss but cut herself off when he sat against the headboard and pulled her into his lap.

Quick as a flash, she was all over him, kissing him deeply as she brought her hips closer to his.

She was already soaked, leaving a trail of arousal on his skin. 

Groaning, his hands slipped back up to her breasts, gently pinching and rotating his fingers.

“Oh,” she keened. It felt incredible. Each tweak and twirl of her nipples shot a rocket of pleasure straight to her clit. She was sure if he so much as brushed the sensitive pearl, she would fall apart, receptive to even the slightest touch. 

“Come on,” he urged, touching the pad of his thumbs to the peaks and rubbing them in small circles.

“Oh,” she groaned, hips rocking as her back arched, “oh fuck Nico.”

His left hand went back to pinching and rolling the pebble between his thumb and forefinger as the right continued the gentle circles. 

The sudden force of his dual stimulation exploded in her veins. 

Hips pressed fully to him, she only had to roll once before her clit brushed his stomach, catching his happy trail, and pleasure exploded into her body. 

Nico kept going, tender and steady while she chanted his name. He was mesmerized that this simple touch could bring so much out of her. 

Gently, he pulled on one of the tender peaks, and, head thrown back, she cried out as heat blazed anew inside her. 

“Lena,” he groaned, leaning down to suck one nipple into his mouth, straight through the fabric. 

She writhed atop him. 

With his hand free, he pushed his boxers out of the way and urged her to sink onto his hard cock.  

Feeling him slip inside her as her orgasm raged was a breathtaking new sensation she would never forget. 

God, she felt incredible around him, urging him deeper. 

When the haze of pleasure slipped from Lena’s mind, an overwhelming urge to blow his mind took its place. He'd just given her two (three?) earth shattering orgasms in a row. Before the first one stopped, he did something new to begin again. She needed him to feel the same way.

Pushing him back gently, his mouth reluctantly popped off her breast as he was forced to lean back against the headboard. 

“Let me,” she said, rocking her hips with a little more insistence. 

Nico gulped and nodded, looking up at her with those big, brown eyes.

In all the times he'd imagined being with her, his mind had never come up with a scenario like this. Reality really was better than any kind of dream. 

In his partially reclined position, it was easier for her to touch him. Her hands slipped up his stomach, and as they found a new home on his chest, she softly circled his nipples with her thumbs, grazing over top every few passes. 

He moaned. He'd known nipple play was a thing. Lena liked her nipples played with nearly as much as her clit, and, even though she'd touched him there before, he'd never felt anything like this. It was like she built some kind of pleasure highway from his chest to his dick and each time she touched him, sensation rushed between the two.

He groaned her name, back arching and hips thrusting to meet each of her movements. 

Lena relished making him feel this way, eating up the shaky way he drew breath and the flutter of his lashes as his eyes rolled back. 

Feeling him spill into her as he shouted his pleasure sparked a sense of intense satisfaction inside Lena until it was glowing bright within her. 

“Oh my God,” he gasped as she lay over him, taking care to keep him seated inside her.

“Thank you,” she said, propping herself on one elbow so she could look into his face. “That was even better than I dreamed.”

A cocky smile ticked his lips up. “I'm glad,” he mumbled, pulling her in for a kiss. “I'll do that anytime you want.” 

It Doesn't Matter Masterlist

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[pinkaditty]

Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker Pt 3

cliche yeaaa i know we've already discussed this... let me have this...

a/n: no post last night bc last night was U.S. election night. in no uncertain terms i've been going through emotional turmoil as a disabled queer african american living in this hellhole. idk man. im holding out hope that ill make it through the next four years. in the meantime! enjoy this! quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.

summary: part 3 of the "Who's Passing NNN?" tokyo debunker thing. for fun id like u 2 guess before u open the rest of the post and comment what u thought. itd be funny 2 me. cw: men jacking off!!!!!!!! MINORS DNI AS USUAL!!!! these things r never proofread i literally spit them out and they're good 2 go.

Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken

(nearly done with sinostra n hotarubi is otw!)

Please respect my boundary. Thank you!

Jabberwock:

Haru Sagara: Fail

Lovingly, he fails. He does not even try for long. He tries a little bit, but the second he gets the itch, it’s all over… If, he can finish his chores first, at least. 

It's a long walk back to Jabberwock from Obscuary. Not that Haru minds, it's just a long walk. It’s dark out, nearly 1am. It wasn’t like him to be out too terribly late, but he trusted Towa had a handle on things, and he was content to relax for a while. The waning crescent moon and sidewalk lamplights illuminate his way home. The stiff, still, crisp and cool night air felt strange against his warm cheeks and neck. He sighs, and his breath is visible in the air, signifying how cold it was.

Usually he’d be speeding home, but he’d drank far too much to be able to do that. The anomalous drinks still left a cloudy, pleasant feeling in his head, though he was still able to walk fine without any stumbling. There was a problem, though. A slight stirring in his abdomen that just wouldn’t go away. It started long before his drinking though, mid-chores. He’d been easily able to tamp if down then, a swath of chores taking up his time and distractions from his dormmates serving him well. But now, he was drunk. His defenses against such sensations has lowered drastically. Each gentle twitch at his pelvic floor sent a surge of feeling through him, to which he’d visibly stiffen and bite his tongue to prevent any damning noises. He could feel his body stir with more heat than before, the warmth snaking down his spine, creeping to the rest of his body, very quickly reaching his already half-hard cock. The walk became pure torture, each stride beginning to feel like a gentle stroke against his hardening length. The building pleasure goes straight to his brain, and he has to stop his stride, panting, supporting himself with his hands on his knees. He feels himself flush at the sight of his cock pressing hard into his pant leg. He straightens his posture and continues on, worrying his lip between his teeth until they turn red.

It’s a long walk back to Jabberwock from Obscuary. He picks up the pace.

Towa Otonashi: Pass

He tries and gets through! He’s mostly obsessed with romance anyway. Physical intimacy typically takes a backseat. Does that mean he doesn’t want romance to blossom into physical intimacy? No, of course not. If anything, he values the buildup.

It’s late, and no classes tomorrow. Towa’s taken up the liberty of watching a movie in his room, one known for being particularly cheesy, with romance bursting at the seams of it. He’s enjoying himself, leaning forward on the bed as he hungrily watches each scene, drinking in the classic love-at-first-sight trope, waiting eagerly for the miraculous buildup.

As expected, the buildup arrives, and the two main characters finally confess to one another. He sighs happily as the characters kiss, leaning back and propping himself up with his hands, ready for the credits to roll. He is surprised, however, when the scene continues to escalate past just kissing. He waits for it to stop, simultaneously mystified and mesmerized, his eyes glued to the screen as the characters move from kissing to groping to undressing. His heart rises to his throat. His breathing picks up and his face becomes flushed. He still doesn’t stop watching, even as he feels his cock stir in response to the scene. He continues watching with baited breath as the scene continues to escalate further. Undressing turns to nude groping and nude groping elicits intense noises from the screen. He feels his cock harden further, and feels himself hesitantly reaching for it, his gaze flicking between the sex scene and his aching cock trapped in his uniform slacks. Before he knows it, he’s covering his mouth with one hand and rubbing his cock at a furious pace, in tandem with the gentle plap plap plap sounds coming from the screen. The sex is so passionate, so romantic, and he finds himself wishing for something similar. It is when the couple’s lips meet at the climax that he climaxes, spilling himself between his fingers and onto the plush sheets of his bed. He trembles, blinking blearily as he surveys his mess, and watching as the couple embrace one another, the love between them palpable. 

Ren Shiranami: Fail

He didn’t try and he wasn’t going to. I mean come on now! This is Ren we’re talking about. He is not holding his own… Not unless it’s ramen or video games, that is.

His sweaty hair sticks to his even sweatier forehead. His eyes are wide and glued to his PC screen. His posture is hunched, his teeth are grinding, and his legs are taut. He cannot lose this game. He continues to repeat that in his head, desperately trying to focus his attention to the buttons underneath his fingers rather than the burning need his stiffened length presented. He cannot lose this game. He cannot lose this game. He cannot lose this game. The second stage of the battle was not going to catch him off-guard this time. Not this time. 

He leans towards the screen, steeling himself after defeating the first-form boss. His cock continues to press eagerly against his sweatpants as though begging for attention, but he willed himself to ignore it, even as the hem of his underwear brushing along his tip threatened to make him lose his composure. 

Finally, the next scene starts. He’s ready, dodging as many attacks as he can and dealing as much damage as possible. At long last, he’s so close, just a few blows away from victory. He’s so close. He feels his cock jump in response to those thoughts, and the fleeting thought of being close to bursting flashes across his mind before he shakes his head harshly and returns to his game. His cock jumps again just as he lands a blow, his tip once again pressing into the hem of his underwear. He cannot continue while ignoring the insistent press. He growls, displeased, and reaches down for a quick readjustment, his hands only leaving the buttons for a moment. Once adjusted, he suppresses a gasp at the feeling and returns his hands to the buttons. Too late. The boss took advantage of his momentary stillness and sliced him in half, prompting the “GAME OVER” screen. 

Ren angrily shoves the controller away from him and buries his head in his hands, peeking down at his twitching cock forming a tent in his sweatpants. 

a/n: i love fictional men suffering!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i imagined ren playing elden ring 4 reference (specifically battling malenia) but ur free 2 imagine whatever lol!

note that, as always, i enjoy likes, comments, and reblogs!! please tell me how much you enjoyed my work! it really means a lot!

ALSO WOOOOO HIT 500 FOLLOWERS! if ur reading this, slide in2 my asks with a prompt idea (please don't expect a response!). i want 2 write some juicy porn with whoever comes 2 mind.

final note that i purposely extended haru's part bc @/aayakashii was looking forward 2 it and i thought her tags were so funny lmfao

[babydollmarauders]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n is Quinn’s little secret.

specific lyrics: “what started in beautiful rooms; ends with meetings in parking lots” and “you wanna scream, don't call me ‘kid’, don't call me ‘baby’, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me” and “look at this idiotic fool that you made me” and “for you, i would ruin myself, a million little times”

warnings: cheating, 18+ content in the middle, ANGST!

notes: you will not think highly of the Quinn in this fic. i know i’m supposed to be writing the Speak Now Fic List— bear with me. this was written as a way to get out of my writers block.

i can always stop.

i can.

i have freewill to refuse his advances.

i think.

but the stolen stares, the weight of his body against mine, the feeling that comes with knowing he wants me in the way i’ve longed for him to want me, it’s an addiction.

a drug that i just can’t quit, despite how dirty and used i feel afterwards. despite having to sneak away with my hood up and my head down.

the high of being his, just for a moment, outweighs the inevitable self-criticism in the aftermath.

because that’s the thing about illicit affairs; they make you hate yourself a million little times.

**

i’ve barely just climbed off of him, my back skimming the mattress, before he’s already standing from my bed.

my eyes follow his movements, the fluidity and grace of flowing through steps he’s done a million times before.

his dress shirt buttoned back on, his suit pants following, his tie lazily swung around his neck and his suit jacket pulled over to complete the look.

while i’m tangled in my thin sheet, still recovering, he’s fixing his hair in the mirror above my dresser and letting his own eyes graze his neck for marks. finding none, as i know better than to make myself known on his skin.

never seen, never heard, always secret. no marks, never wear perfume nor lipstick, never leave any trace of existence. a ghost above all else.

his eyes lock with mine in the mirror, catching my longing stare with his indifferent one.

“i’ve gotta go. you watching the game?” he knows the answer, he always knows.

“yeah, Quinny, i’ll be watching.” my cheeks flush. “i always do.”

“good. i’ll try and score a goal for you.” he winks in the reflection, my heartbeat picking up as it does every time. “bye, baby.”

there’s no goodbye kisses, no whispered sweet nothings, just quirked lips and the sound of my bedroom door shutting behind him.

it’s not long until the bliss wears off, leaving me with nothing but self-depreciating thoughts. no one to blame but myself.

he has a girlfriend.

one who isn’t you.

aren’t you ashamed?

aren’t you disgusted with yourself?

don’t you deserve better?

although, maybe not.

my phone buzzes on the nightstand beside me, an incoming call from my best friend, and despite feeling like an idiotic fool and a betrayal of my own morality, i accept the call.

“hey, Lukey!” false cheer drips from my tongue, but just like every other time, i know he won’t know the difference. “to what do i owe the pleasure of your call?”

“hey, y/n/n!” Luke’s chuckle crackles over the speaker of my phone. “i just wanted to talk, i’ve been missing you extra the past few days. i want my movie buddy.”

“i miss you too, Lukey.”

god, if only he knew how badly i’ve fucked up without him to lead me the right way.

“don’t you have Jack now to watch movies with?” i question, shaking off the urge to confess my sins. to ask for his forgiveness and plead for him to talk some sense into my love-riddled mind.

“it’s not the same. he doesn’t pay attention to the little details as well as we do.” i can hear his pout through the phone, making me giggle.

“just one more month, then we’ll have the whole summer to watch as many movies as we want.” i remind him.

“yeah, one more month.” he replies, solemnly. “anyways, UBC is still treating you good, right? no chance you’d wanna transfer to, i don’t know, Rutgers or Princeton?”

i chuckle at his lame attempt at convincing me to leave my dream school.

“i’m sorry, moose; but UBC is still where my heart lies.” oh, if only he knew just what, or rather who, the reason was for that.

“yeah, alright. it was worth a shot.” he sighs. “and Quinny’s taking good care of you, right?”

i my throat closes up and i choke on the air in my lungs.

“what?” i ask him, sitting up in my bed and pulling the sheet closer to my body.

“Quinn.” he repeats. “he promised he’d look after you. has he?”

“oh, yeah. yeah, he’s been checking in on me. making sure i’m okay.” i guess that’s one way to put what we’ve been doing.

“good. i’d have to kill him if he let you get hurt.”

**

my feet have barely touched the ground outside of my car before the lake house door is flung open. my best friend bounds out of the house, his middle brother hot on his trail, attempting to speak to him about something long forgotten by Luke.

“YOU’RE HERE!” Luke’s arms are flung around my waist, hoisting me up in the air and spinning me around.

the melody of my laugh mingles in the air as my arms wrap around his neck.

“Lukey, put me down, i already feel sorta car sick! it was a very long drive.” despite the fact that my words are true, i can’t wipe the smile off my face from being reunited with my best friend.

my feet finally fall flat on the ground as Luke backs up to look at my face, his fingers grazing all over it, more specifically the under eye bags from stress and sleepless nights.

“i thought you said you were doing great? what are these?! they’re new!”

his concern is heartwarming but before i can respond, i notice all the people behind him on the lake house porch. Jack, their friends, and most importantly, Quinn. the real reason for my newly spotted dark circles.

i muster up a chuckle, rolling my eyes.

“they’re designer. they come with the UBC tuition.” i stress, hoping he buys the ‘i’ve just been working myself to the bone with schoolwork’ excuse.

“checks out. you’ve always been my little nerd.” he grins, slinging an arm around my shoulder and turning towards the porch. “aren’t you guys gonna come say hi?”

“didn’t wanna impose on your moment.” Jack jokes, hopping down the porch steps to pull me from Luke’s grasp and into a hug.

“hey, bubby. welcome back.” he smiles, ruffling my hair mid hug. i step on his foot in retaliation, making him push me back so he could check on his white sneakers.

“it’s good to be back, bubba.” i grin as he rolls his eyes.

“hey kid, long time no see.” my head snaps over to look at Quinn, who smirks at me with a knowing look.

we saw each other three days ago, the day before he flew out to Michigan.

“hey, Quinny.” a bashful smile takes over my lips and my heart beats overtime, the natural reaction when i’m in his vicinity.

“no.” Luke speaks, pulling me into his chest protectively. “you don’t get to ‘hi’ her. you got her all year. this is my turn.”

his words make me blush and i pat his chest.

“don’t worry Lukey, this is our time.” i reassure him. “i but i would like to go inside now.”

“yeah, right.” he nods, letting me push away from him. the guys all head back into the house, leaving me to open my trunk and grab my bag.

a strong hand encases mine on the handle of my suitcase, soft lips i know all too well grazing the shell of my ear.

“i hope Luke doesn’t mind sharing.” Quinn leaves me frozen behind him, taking my bag and my breath with him.

beats of time pass before i follow suit, closing my trunk and locking my car before jogging up the porch steps and into the house.

this will be one hell of a summer. literally.

**

“i’m going for a run.”

my words are spoken through Luke’s shut bedroom door, followed by the opening of said door.

“a run?” he asks me, sleep still prominent in his face from his mid-afternoon nap. “since when do you run?”

“i started running when i was in Vancouver. i thought i told you that?” the lie is like a sour candy on my tongue, spit out quickly as though another second of these words in my mouth would make me sick.

“oh, okay. how long will you be gone? i’ll have the movie set up for when you get back.”

“i shouldn’t be too long. like an hour at most.” i tell him, tightening my ponytail.

“you’ll actually probably be all sweaty when you get back. just wake me back up when you get back and i’ll get the movie ready while you shower.”

sweaty and flushed, for sure.

“okay.”

*

“Quinn, please.” my heavy pants turn to pleads, begging Quinn to get me over the edge. his hands hold mine behind my back as i grind my hips against his.

unable to risk being caught at the lake house, our rendezvous settings have downgraded from my bedroom back in vancouver. to the parking lot of a field, only a 15 minute walk from the house.

“you want me to make you come?” his words cause a shiver down my spine, my head nodding at rapid speed. “use your words, baby. say it.”

“i want you to make me come.” i beg. that’s all it takes for him to flip us over, my body laid across his back seat as he thrusts into me, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder.

“fuck, you’re so wet baby. feel so good squeezing my cock.” i clench around him, his dirty whispers echoing in my head as the coil in my stomach tightens. he angles his hips, thrusting up into the spot that makes my eyes roll back.

“right there.” i gasp, my hands coming up to grip his shoulders. i’m careful not to dig my nails into his skin. careful to never leave any sort of marks. his right hand trails down my body, settling on my stomach.

“right there?” he teases, repeating his previous move, all while pushing one hand down on my stomach. my legs shake, and i clench around him one final time before the pressure relieves and i achieve my orgasm.

Quinn thrusts a few more times, riding me through my high and chasing his before his hips stutter and he pulls out, painting my stomach with his release.

the glass windows are fogged, the car hot and reeking of sex, the only sound being our heavy breathing as we gather ourselves again.

my eyes flutter, my energy spent.

“hey, baby.” Quinn’s hand snakes onto my thigh, shaking it slightly. “you should go. Luke is probably waiting for you.”

i nod. i know he’s right, but it still stings, being dismissed so quickly.

i wipe my stomach with a napkin from his glovebox before slipping my biker shorts back on and pulling my tank top back over my head.

“i’ll see you at the house.” he bids me goodbye, as i slip out of his car, starting my walk back to the house.

aren’t you sick of this?

don’t you feel guilty for lying to your best friend?

for betraying him like this?

don’t you think you can do better?

that you deserve better than clandestine meetings?

than being someone’s ‘other woman’?

than being tossed aside the second he’s done with you?

i’m done.

*

“alright, you ready?” Luke asks, plopping down on the couch cushion beside me, a bowl of popcorn clutched in his hand.

“yeah, press play, moose.” Luke is just about to hit play on the netflix movie when the front door swings open. Quinn steps into the house, shutting the door before noticing us on the couch.

“hey.” he gives us a nod, walking towards the stairs. “oh, Olivia is flying in tomorrow morning.”

my heart stops, my muscles tensing.

Olivia.

Quinn’s girlfriend.

the one we’ve been sneaking around for four months.

“oh cool, what time?” Luke is oblivious to my silent panic.

“six a.m, so i’m heading to sleep. night, Luke. night, kid.”

there it is again. that stupid nickname. ‘kid’.

Quinn heads up the stairs and i hear the faint sound of his bedroom door shutting.

my head snaps over to Luke.

“hey, i gotta go get something from my room, i’ll be right back.” i pat his leg before rising from my seat, making my way towards the stairs.

“oh, okay.” he nods, getting on his phone as i walk up the stairs.

i come to a stop outside of Quinn’s door, debating knocking before i decide not to, in order to not raise suspicion from Luke.

i swing the door open, slipping in before quickly shutting it behind me.

Quinn sits on the foot of his bed, head rising from looking at his phone. his brows furrow before he raises one in questioning.

“didn’t get enough of me earlier?” he teases. “aren’t you and Luke watching a movie? i don’t think we can have a quickie right now-”

“we’re done.” his lips snap shut, whether in shock, or disbelief, or just plain speechlessness, i’m not sure. but he’s silent, so i continue. “no more meetings. no more.”

my heart aches in my chest, my throat getting tighter and tears bubble up in my eyes.

i thought it would be easy to stop.

i used to tell myself i could do it whenever i wanted. but now, i know it’s not true.

there was no ‘last time’, only this afternoon. no soft goodbyes. i’ll be stuck seeing him for the rest of my life. he’s a mistake that i became all too comfortable with. with him, i let my morals wash away like a drawing in sand. but i was done hating myself, thinking so low of myself for my forbidden actions.

he chuckles as if i told him a joke, as if i didn’t just tell him we were over. standing from the bed and prowling towards me, his hand raises to cup my cheek.

“what are you talking about, baby?”

it’s always ‘baby’ in secret. ‘kid’ while in company. he makes me feel so stupid, like i’m a child; naive and small.

“don’t call me ‘baby’.” i swat his hand away from my cheek. “and don’t call me ‘kid’, either. do you not know my name?

“do you not know the name of the girl you’ve been fucking in secret for the past four months? that you’ve known since you were ten?”

his nostrils flare, stepping back as though i’ve slapped him.

“i know your name, y/n.” his words drip with venom, his lips press together into a straight line. “they’re just nicknames.”

“they’re cruel.” i spit. “you know what you’re doing. i’ve made myself available to you for too long. i’ve let you use me and throw me to the side as if i’m nothing. i’ve become something i never would’ve imagined i would be-”

“y/n-”

“no! this is my turn to talk. look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. i’m actively lying to my best friend, your brother. i’ve become the ‘other woman’. a title i would’ve smacked myself for, just six months ago. i’ve lost my sense of morality. i’ve become someone that i don’t even recognize; because of you. so, i’m done.

“i will not be your secret anymore. i deserve more. i deserve better than someone who keeps me hidden. who dismisses me mere minutes after using my body.”

tear tracks stain my cheeks, my face feels tighter under the salty liquid and i quickly wipe them away.

“you’re right.” my lips part slightly, my gaze fixating on the man in front of me.

he seems genuine. his eyes glistening with pity and an unrecognizable emotion.

“i’m sorry. you deserve better.” he tells me, nodding his head solemnly.

“i do.” i reply. “and i’ve been rejecting everyone that is interested because i’ve been hoping and praying to any higher power that you would love me the way that i’ve loved you since i was sixteen, but that’s not gonna happen, is it?”

he shakes his head ‘no’ and i can’t even hold it against him, because at least he’s finally being honest with me.

i bite my lower lip, nodding dejectedly and gripping the doorknob behind me.

“for you, i’ve ruined myself a million times.”

i slip out the door, padding back down the stairs and leaving the man i love, and our illicit affairs behind me.

Luke’s head rises when i return, his eyebrow raised and his lips parted, surely ready to question what took me so long. but with one glance at my tear stained face and bloodshot eyes, his mouth closes, his arms opening instead.

i drop onto the couch, burying my face into his neck. his arms wrap around me tightly, one hand holding the back of my head as the other rubs my back.

“i know.” he whispers. “it’s okay. i know.”

his words are mumbled against the shell of my ear and the emotion with which their spoken confirms that he knew what i’d been doing. they only succeed in making me feel even more guilty. all this time, i thought i’d been doing a pretty good job of hiding our meetings this summer, but my best friend is smart, catching on a lot more than i realized.

“i’m so sorry, Lukey.” i sob, my apology muffled by his skin.

“it’s okay. and i promise, it’ll be okay, y/n/n. i’ve got you.”

[luveline]

hi! could I request a fic where reader has trouble falling asleep without someone with her? maybe with Hotch or Miguel? like their voices soothe her into sleep? only if you feel like it!! have an amazing day and I adore your writing! 💟💟

hi gorgeous, thank you! ♡ fem

Hotch is rubbing the knots out of his neck when his phone pings with a text. 

Hi, handsome, hopefully you're sleeping, so when you wake up I was wondering if you can send me the photos from last Wednesday to print <3 

He adores your silly electronic heart. 

Hotch clicks your contact and brings the phone to his ear, waiting as the dial trills once. You pick up immediately, sounding sorry and sweet and the slightest bit tired. "Hey. You're awake." 

"Yes, I'm awake, I just got home. Why are you awake? It's four in the morning, honey." 

"You sound very accusatory right now. You're accusing me." 

"Mm. Can I come over, or will you fall asleep before I get there?" 

"Fat chance of that. You're really coming over?" you ask. 

Hotch leaps up the moment he hears the relief in your voice. Something is wrong, and you won't tell him over the phone. He says goodbye gently, dresses less so, and makes an impressively quick journey to your home to put whatever it is back the way it should be. 

You seem in good spirits even though the hollows under your eyes are prominent in the light of the porch, opening your arms for him and hugging him there on the door jam, rumpled under his chin. "You're not wearing a suit." 

"Would you have preferred that?" 

"Only if you were gonna take it off." 

"You'd like that, hmm?" he asks, his teasing at odds with the dulcet cadence of his voice. "I'll dance." 

You giggle into his chest. Hotch grins but quashes it as you look up for a kiss, your lips soft, sweet against his. You kiss his cupid's bow all smushed upward before stepping away from him, your hands drifting together. He pauses to lock the door and take off his shoes. You tug him impatiently back to your room.

Hotch has dreams about your bedroom. There's something about you, the way you climb into bed and sit pretty against the headboard waiting for him to follow you in, innocuous, intensely tempting. He pulls back the sheets and slides in, needling an arm under you to drag you into his side and down onto your back simultaneously. 

"Unnecessary show of strength," you say with a laugh. 

"Just reminding you." 

You turn out your lamp. He squirms to get comfortable. Your mattress is a mess and he's not young enough to bear it without consequence in the morning, but he'll suffer it and worse if it means you'll stay nestled against his side, your cheek at home on his bicep, your arm wrapped around his middle. 

"You'll tell me what's keeping you up?" he asks, hushed. 

"I really don't know how you just know these things…" You give in, because you always give in with him, and (to his credit), he always listens. "I don't think I can sleep without you, Aaron, I really don't." 

"Why? You're not worrying about me, are you?" he asks. 

"No. Of course I am, but that's not the problem. I just struggle without you here. It's easier when you call me, I can fall asleep with you talking to me. But otherwise it's hard." 

"How did you fall asleep before me?" he asks fondly, turning his face to nose at your temple. 

"I'm used to you, I think. I'm spoiled." 

"You aren't spoiled." He pressed his lips to your cheek, eyes closed to breathe you in. "What do you want me to talk about? Think of something soothing." 

"You aren't a man with many soothing stories," you say. 

Hotch tells you about the quieter things in his life, the things that make undertaking the unsaid worthwhile. Jack wants to be Bugs Bunny for Halloween and Hotch has no idea why. Spencer destroyed his computer with a cup of coffee —the problem being the amount of undisolved sugar clumped at the bottom of his cup that found its way into the computers RAM with no hopes of cleaning, rather than the drink itself. His office door squeaks constantly and he's half mad with it, but there's no solution beyond waiting for someone in maintenance to oil the hinge. 

He realises you've fallen asleep somewhere in his stories and he hadn't noticed. He didn't think your confession was wholly true. Perhaps you're stressed, or anxious in a way you haven't shared. And yet you fall asleep as promised from the sound of his voice, your hand scrunched in his shirt like you worry he'll escape you, your eyelid to his arm. Hotch contemplates you as you sleep, pulling the sheets snugly to your chin. He doesn't know if you know this, but you're his sweetheart. He finds you so precious, among a thousand other things, brave and kind and loving, but he knows he's a lucky man. He's the spoiled one. 

If you need his voice to fall asleep to, he'll talk until he's hoarse. And while he's away, he'll have to remember to call. He can't have you missing out on sleep. Hotch kisses the hollow under your eye and tries to sleep too, but he finds he misses the sound of your voice. 

[sp1d3r-w3bbzz]

NSFW ALPHABET:

♡CHOSO♡

note: not really experienced in writing fanfics/smut so ill try my best <3

•switch!choso x switch!reader(f)

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

firstly he would make sure your okay almost immediately after yall are done, after makes sure your okay he would wipe you down and get things like water,snacks,and anything else to make you more comfortable.once he has that he will join you back in bed,reassuring and praising you while giving you light kisses before getting up to run y’all a bath

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners)

He doesn’t really have a “favorite” body part of his but if he had to pick, it’d be his hands, he likes knowing that he can pleasure you with them and he enjoys having that power. however, his favorite body part on his partner are your boobs,whether they are big or small he doesn’t care, he enjoys looking at and touching them

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

he wouldn’t cum inside,mainly because he doesn’t know whether you’d be okay with it or not. Instead he usually pulls out and finishes on your stomach/back depending on y’alls position

D = Dirty Secret

chose secretly really wants to have sex with you while your on your period,the thought of seeing your blood on his cock while he fucks you turns him on pretty often,but he’s always too shy to ask to do it

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

you were his first time doing anything intimate with therefore he had no experience before meeting you. despite that he learned pretty quickly where all the spots that drove you crazy were at

F = Favourite Position

he absolutely loves missionary.he loves being able to stare into your eyes and easily kiss your neck while he fucks you

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

take sex pretty seriously, he believes it's really intimate and vulnerable and just something to be taken seriously. But he doesn't take it TOO seriously. If something a little embarrassing happens it won't ruin the mood or anything. He'll definitely get embarrassed,but can awkwardly laugh it off and keep going

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes,etc.)

he has a little hair down there,not alot though he believes that since you go down there quite often he should keep it well shaved for you

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

he likes to treat you perfectly, to be slow,gentle and romantic with you. He wants to make you feel special and not just like a fuck toy he wants to make sure you know you are important

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t really find it as pleasurable and doesn’t really have a reason to masturbate because most times when he is horny you’re willing to help him, but whenever there is a time when you cant because your far away or just simply don’t feel like it,then he will resort to masturbation,doing it to pictures of you or videos y’all make when y’all do it

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

high-key has a mommy kink.LOVES calling you mommy,especially when your being dominant

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

mainly only in the bedroom or anywhere in y’alls house,doesn’t really like public sex,he feels like something as intimate as sex should be done privately

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

literally anything you do can turn him on,he thinks anything you do is sexy,you could be doing something as simple as cooking and that could turn him on. He thinks that you make anything your doing look majestic

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

he wouldn’t do anything that could cause harm to you or scare you that being said he wouldn’t be willing to choke you,try knifeplay,or wax play

0 = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he prefers to eat you out rather than you sucking him off. Yes,he does enjoy when you suck him but nothing compares to to pleasure he gets just by spreading your legs and pleasuring you with his mouth

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s slow and takes his time with you for the most part but when he gets close then he will speed up and get a little rougher

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

choso doesnt really enjoy quickies that much he prefers to have proper sex,he feels like quickies are less meaningful. He prefers to take his time during yalls intimate moments.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Choso is down to experiment and try new things with you aslong as your very sure you want to and as long as they wont harm you

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

i feel like he has pretty average stamina. he can go for about 2-5 rounds.but he finishes pretty quickly

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

he does have toys and enjoys using them on both himself and you. He’s definitely not opposed to you using them on him in-fact he quite enjoys it. Y’all have a wide variety of toys ranging from vibrators,dildos,and buttplugs to ropes,gags,and collars

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

will tease you quite a bit until he gets really needy and just needs to be inside you already

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

VERY sensitive, will make the most slutty whimpers and moans you have ever heard, but they will always sound so angelic because its choso <3

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He likes being dominated by you,he likes see the dominant part of you and doesn’t mind when you take control

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants)

6 inches soft, 7.5 hard

base-#ECCEB7

tip-gradient (from #DD9F9C To #D8847F)

cut

slightly curved upwards

sweet-ish

girthy

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

above average maybe?? Again,he gets turned on pretty easily just by watching you do practically anything,that being said yall have sex at least 2-3 times a week

Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

he usually waits until your comfortable and you fall asleep first then he goes to sleep but if it was particularly tiresome then y’all do aftercare then he falls asleep most times before you

pretty sure you can clearly tell which parts i got lazy on..😖