#i’m having way too much fun with this nonsense
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dira333 · 2 days ago
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Spin the bottle - Oikawa Tooru x Reader
brother's best friend and kiss - for @arisaturn for the Milestone Event Week 1
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“You’re going to be nice, right?” Hajime asks when the doorbell rings. 
You roll your eyes. “No, I’m going to scream bloody murder and run around covered in fake blood. Yes, I’m going to behave.”
“I’m never too sure with you.”
You snort and kick him out of your room for good. 
It’s his party after all. His first-ever secret “Mom and Dad are out of the house” party.
You’ve got all the snacks you could possibly need, a really good book you want to make a dent in and the upstairs bathroom is not to be used by any guests so you doubt you’ll see anyone tonight.
Sure, you could go down and mingle, but being a twin is annoying enough on the daily, you don’t need to add to that tonight as well.
Thirty minutes after the first doorbell has cut through the silence, someone knocks on your door.
Groaning, you push yourself up from your bed and open it, only to find Oikawa Tooru standing on the other side.
“Did you get lost on the way to the bathroom?” You ask. “Party is downstairs.”
“I know that but do you? Why are you not down there with the others?”
“It’s not my party.”
“Nonsense.” He grabs your arm but you lean against it. “Forget it, I’ve got my book and my snacks, I’m not coming down there.”
“But it’s more fun with you.”
“Sure,” you joke. “Go do something with the people that want to spend time with you.”
Something like hurt washes over his face.
“Fine,” he huffs out. “You’re missing a lot.”
“Sure, sure.”
You close the door again.
It’s quiet after that. Well, as quiet as it can be when there’s a house party going on right below your room.
-
On your way back from the bathroom you find the door to your room open when you know full well you’ve closed it. 
Annoyed, you step inside. Oikawa’s lying starfish like on your bed.
“Did no one teach you not to go into other people’s rooms?” You ask, trying to shove him off but failing. He’s heavy.
“Your room is cool,” he mumbles. “The ceiling spins.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No,” he shakes his head but groans right after. “Maybe?”
“What did you drink? I thought Hajime said no alcohol?”
“Mattsun brought something. Or was it Makki? I don’t remember. It didn’t taste bad but now I feel kinda weird.”
“Well, too bad. You’re not going to stay here. Call your sister to pick you up if you need to go home.”
“Please?” He uses his best puppy dog eyes on you and you feel awful that they’re actually working. Curse him and his good looks.
“Fine,” you sigh, wedging yourself between him and the headrest. “But keep quiet. I’m reading.”
And it’s almost nice like that, the warmth of his body so close, no sound but his soft breathing and a sigh here and there.
Eventually, he turns, his face now pressed against your thigh. 
“I’m feeling a little better,” Oikawa tells you and you can feel his lips move through the thin pants you’re wearing, much too close to your skin for comfort.
“Idiot,” you push him to the side. “What are you doing?”
“Talking to you,” he blinks up at you again. “What are you doing?”
“Reading.”
“Isn’t that boring? You could come down and play with us.”
“No thanks,” you pointedly turn the page. “I have no interest in whatever games you guys could come up with.”
Silence.
When Oikawa moves again, he does it so suddenly that you flinch away, having almost forgotten about his presence.
He grabs the bottle of water from your nightstand and sits up, resting it between you on your bed with utter focus.
“Let’s play spin the bottle.”
“Why?”
“Because.” His grin is cheeky as he spins it, though the half-filled bottle won’t properly move.
“Well,” he says, sighing down at it. “It still counts as you since there’s no one else around.”
You laugh. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“Sure it does. That’s why every guy wants to play Spin the Bottle. It’s the only chance to get to kiss the girl you like without everyone knowing.”
You falter. “What?”
“Hmm…” He’s not looking at you, swaying a little left to right. Is he still drunk? 
Oikawa turns the bottle until it points at you. “And if you’re not coming down to play with us, I just have to come up and play with you.”
“You like me, Oikawa?”
His brown eyes are much lighter now when he looks up, as if he’d opened a window behind them that let you look inside of him, into all the vulnerable places he usually keeps hidden.
“I thought you knew?” He pouts. He really really pouts, that asshole, in a moment like this.
“Is that why you keep coming up here to bother me?”
“I’m not bothering you,” he insists. “I’m spending valuable time with you! If you don’t want me to have the first turn, you can turn the bottle instead, but we’re only two people, so it kinda has to land on me-”
His lips taste like soju and something fruity, they’re warm and soft against your own. 
He deflates like a balloon at the touch, sinking into you like a heavy weight dropped into water.
Oikawa’s always been dramatic, but you think you’ve never liked it quite as much as you do now.
When you let go, move back, try to sort your thoughts out, his hands find the bottle again.
“Can I spin it again?” He asks and you snort.
“You don’t have to spin it, Tooru. You can just ask for another kiss.”
And you’re pretty sure it’s not the first time you’ve called him by his first name. 
But the way his head shoots up, eyes sparkling with wonder, you think you might be mistaken. 
Or maybe it’s just the first time he’s heard it.
“Well, can I? Kiss you again, I mean?”
“I changed my mind, spin the bottle instead.”
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christianborle · 2 years ago
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euthymiya · 28 days ago
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“Did you know—”
“I don’t care,” Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. It’s half past three—(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less tired).
But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. “—That some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?”
“What do you want me to do with this information?” He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grin—it’s a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that he’s about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like it’s underway once more.
(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).
“It’s a warning,” you hum.
He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, “oh yeah? For what? Are you gonna—wha-hey!”
Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. There’s a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.
He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks incredulously.
You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.
“I’m eating you,” you say cheekily, “see?” For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.
“Have you completely lost it?” He hisses.
“We just mated—”
“Who on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals who—”
“—And now I’m going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.”
“If you’re going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbles lowly.
Sukuna is tired.
(And yes, the reason is partly because he’s a bit inexhaustible once he’s felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, it’s technically his own greediness that’s worn him out so physically for the night. But that’s all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesn’t exactly mind draining his energy for.
Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things he’s willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isn’t much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.
If anything, there’s pain—the stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)
“I’m not tired,” you hum.
“Then let me make you tired,” he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.
“If you didn’t manage that the first time, what makes you think that’ll work the second?” You tease.
He doesn’t seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.
It’d be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didn’t mumble, “I love when you sleep because it’s the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.”
“Maybe if you’d just appreciated my fun fact—”
“You bit my fucking nipple.”
“I could bite the other one, too, if you want,” you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.
Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, it’s because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.
(And, of course, there’s all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But that’s just that odd stuff you like to babble about—that odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.
He doesn’t like it.)
“You need a lobotomy,” he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, either—very much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.
“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “I’m biologically meant to be your predator.”
“You biologically give me fuckin’ migraines.”
You grin—it’s a smile that’s easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.
“Next time, I’ll eat you for sure,” you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. “Assert my dominance.”
“You can’t even open the pickle jar.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,” he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.
Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, “goodnight. Love you.”
“Night.”
“I love you.”
“For the love of—love you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.”
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mv1simp · 2 months ago
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I love your stories so much, please write more dark manipulative Max, maybe something with mindbreak or bimbofication of an innocent reader? It would be fun if she was Toto's daughter and Max so holds it over Toto.
this is for all the dark!Max/toto’s daughter/bimbo/mindbreak reader requests all you freaks have been requesting 😼😼 for the first time i have something for the dark!lando girlies!!
Double Fantasy ♥️
Max Verstappen x Lando’s Fuckbuddy!Reader
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I can tell that you think that I’m right for you, I already know that it's not true, but girl I'll lie to you (even though it's wrong)
Recently becoming a media executive for the FIA, you can’t deny that your dream job has given you access to your dream men. Sadly, your top pick, Max Verstappen doesn’t look twice your way - not interested in the daughter of Toto Wolff, who he openly dislikes. But you gladly enjoy your consolation prize of being Lando Norris’s fuckbuddy. You didn’t realise just how far Lando planned on extending your arrangement when he pisses the Dutch champion off one step too far - and now needs to figure out the perfect gift to give Max and make amends.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark! max, dark! Lando, but bimbo!reader is into it lol, have done a twist on the usual innocent! reader, she’s toto’s daughter also, dubcon, blindfold, BDSM, no threesomes sorry I can’t share max with anyone else, WC 5.6k
Multiple heads turn your way as you make your way down the FIA garage, your YSL black and gold heels clicking smoothly on the floor. You can’t hold back the pleased smile on your pink glossed lips at the appreciative glances over your curvy figure. At 22, you’ve landed your dream job as a marketing and media executive for the FIA. Glowing recommendations, a perfect GPA and of course a touch of good old fashioned nepotism via your dad, the Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff, landed you here, dressed in luxury outfits and regularly networking with some of the richest people on the continent. What can you say? You’re a material girl, after all, with a pleasure for the finer things in life.
And that included an appreciation of rich, powerful men that you inherited as a result of a strict and emotionless father who preferred to spend his time running a motorsports corporation instead of at home. Daddy issues, one might even say (actually your therapist had said exactly that.) So the Formula One grid, filled to the brim with hot, millionaire drivers who have no issue flirting with the new pretty little toy on the paddock, was the perfect place for a girl like you to work. You definitely had your fun, arriving a few months ago for your first day, dressed in a tight yet full length maxi dress, giving you the perfect blend of sexy and demure that had much of the paddock panting after you.
But you were a girl with a taste for luxury - you weren’t going to settle for any dirty mechanic or plain news reporter. No, what you wanted more than anything, was to get the best of both worlds like your lucky bitch of a stepmom Susie Wolff had done - FIA executive and WAG of the hottest and richest team principal. Even you had to admit, apart from your dad, the rest of the principals were a little bit too far on the balding old men side. But the drivers, you thought wickedly, the drivers were a completely different story. And they knew they were some of the most desired men on the planet, with their fame and status. Their egos were sky high - especially since multiple women would be throwing themselves at them every race weekend or media day. So you had made sure to play the game very, very carefully - unlike the other sultry models on the paddock, or conservative women dressed head to toe in basic team gear, you were the very picture of innocence with your sweet makeup and dark curls, cute girly dresses and heels, all shy giggles one minute and then serious, no nonsense businesswoman the next to keep them on their toes.
A lot of the drivers ate it up, too, flocking to Toto Wolff’s pretty daughter when they’d see you doing the occasional post race interview or brazenly flirting with you at a drivers’ meeting. But the one man who you truly wanted, the 26 year old in the Redbull gear with 3 world champions and a multimillionaire contract to his name, with intense blue eyes and thick thighs and broad shoulders, with a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine one second then flutters in your heart the next when you’d hear him laugh - he was the man who didn’t look twice your way. Despite your attempts to flutter your eyelashes, wearing tight outfits and bend over just so in a certain angle, or pressing your generous tits up against his bulging biceps as your breathlessly whisper Congratulations on the win, Max he wouldn’t even show a flicker of reciprocal interest. You were the daughter of Toto, after all - a principal who he was quite well known in the media for having ongoing disputes with for numerous years. As if Max Verstappen was going to be seduced by the likes of a gold digging daughter who was probably just as two faced as her father.
You’d pouted for weeks, growing bitter with jealousy at seeing Max instead walk around with Kelly, a pretty, tall and slim model who’d apparently outplayed you. But to your delight, you stumbled upon the best consolation prize. With all your pining you hadn’t realized you’d snagged one of the hottest and most desirable drivers on the grid - McLaren’s Lando Norris. Well, snagged was one way to put it - after all, a playboy like him was hard to pin down, especially when he knew how much pull he had over women. But you’d thought about that to, even going so far as saving your virginity like the perfect daddy’s little girl you were. Lando ate it up, twistedly enjoying getting to corrupt the paddock’s pretty princess, the one everyone wanted to get a piece off. So unlike the other women he slept with, the ones kept secret and hidden from the media, you were his favourite toy - one that he paraded around whenever you’d be in the same city. Not quite a girlfriend, of course, he was far too much of a flirt to put such a label on you so soon - more of a friends with benefits, a high maintenance fling, a fuckbuddy, some might call it.
And once you had your manicured hands clinging onto his arms at the races you sure as hell did not plan on letting go. Toto was not overly happy at the news that his eldest daughter was involved with a driver, of course, but had accepted it as Lando was still a good choice compared to many of the other drivers he wanted you to stay well away from - like Mad Max. So you stayed loyal to Lando, not wanting any rumours about you flirting with multiple drivers to impact your dad’s important reputation. You’d only flutter your lashes at Lando, kissing his cheek diligently with your glossed lips, sending the naughty photos of you in expensive lingerie just for him - because the rewards you got as his paddock arm candy were just too good. Always making sure your face was well cut out from any pictures, of course - you would die if they got leaked and your father found out.
But being Lando’s fuckbuddy came with a whole line of luxuries you’d quickly grown accustomed too. Tickets to whatever show you wanted, the finest food at the most expensive restaurant, the papparazzi going crazy at whatever outfit you’d wear when clinging onto Lando’s arm, and of course one of the most coveted men in the world between your legs, teaching you how to come apart on his fingers. That’s right, his fingers, and very rarely his cock, because you needed to secure that diamond ring, after all. And you sure as hell weren’t going to give him wife privileges 24/7 when he hadn’t even made you his official girlfriend yet. So instead you tried to push him to the limits, testing his patience to give up and retire his playboy ways if he finally got to bury his desperate dick inside your heavenly tight pussy again, after having taken your virginity.
Truly, you had outdone yourself, you thought, as every passing race this season Lando got more and more tense as tensions for the World Championships grew, with McLaren finally being able to threaten the Verstappen Red Bull reign for the first time in years. And with each passing race, he couldn’t relieve the tension enough, trying to furiously fuck his way through all number of vogue models but somehow always finding himself back with you, desperately begging to be let in between your soft thighs. And like always, you’d blink innocently and coo that you felt too shy, wasn’t last time enough, you didn’t want to ruin yourself for the man you were going to marry, remember?
And Lando would groan, because as much as he wanted you, he also knew there was no way in hell he was ready to take you to the altar over this. Although it had been getting harder and harder to resist, lately, because although you were truly so talented with your small hands and sweet, drooling mouth, he would endlessly replay the heaven that your pussy had felt like the rare few times you’d let him enter you with his cock.
But as the season went on even you couldn’t calm Lando down, especially after the Zandervoot race. Tensions were at an all time high between him and his normally good friend Max, after Lando stole his home race under him and even sealed the deal by throwing the Dutchman’s simply lovely phrase back at him cockily. Max was well and truly pissed off at Lando then, not even turning upto their weekly Padel games or replying to his texts. Although Lando wanted to win the championship, he also wanted to remain good mates with Max - especially because he knew being on Mad Max’s bad side always ended with the opponent finding themselves crashing into a wall at the next race. So as he pondered just what he could do to get his friend’s forgiveness, a wicked idea came to him, one night when he was out at a Monaco nightclub with you and had run into Max partying with his friends. He’d tried to talk to Max, but had been rudely ignored, so instead Lando stood off the corner, rather crossly glaring at the Dutchman, when he noticed you’d disappeared from his side to tipsily wander to the bar and get another drink.
He was about to go help you when he saw you stumble, maybe take you to the bathroom for a quick sloppy blowjob - but was suprised to see Max appear at your side, his intense blue eyes watching your tinier frame carefully as he rested a large palm over your plump ass to secure you. And Lando watched as you giggled happily, twirling your hair as Max handed over his black Amex to pay for your drink, rewarded with a lingering lip glossed kiss on his cheek from you, before you scampered back over to where Lando was hidden in the shadows. And as you loyally returned to Lando’s arms, whispering that you were going to make him feel so good tonight, he seemed so tense, the Brit found himself ignoring your seductive words entirely to instead focus on how Max’s hungry gaze lingered on your ass as you had strutted away from the tall blonde man. A sinister grin appeared on Lando’s face as he pieced it all together. He’d always thought it was weird that Max chose to completely ignore you, given that he normally was a friendly guy off the track. Turns out his good mate was just trying to avoid getting involved with Toto’s paddock bunny of a daughter, huh?
Turning his attention to you, Lando whispered if you could pretty please try out something new for him tonight, because he was really stressed, okay? He watches you nod eagerly, foolishly thinking your plan to get Lando so desperate for you that he was ready to put a ring on your finger was working. Too bad you had no idea that instead, your fuckbuddy was thinking about how he’d just found the perfect present to gift to his angry rival.
So that’s how you found yourself in a plush hotel bed later that night, all dressed up in a pretty white lace and mesh set and still in your heels, your eyes blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. You eyes had gone wide with excitement, thighs clenching when Lando had pulled the ropes out, and you’d had to blush and act all innocent when secretly you couldn’t be happier that you were drawing out the dirtier desires in Lando. Because that meant he was falling for you all the more, right?
You had no idea about the private conversation your fuckbuddy had been having with the driver you’d previously desired, just outside the club in a dark alleyway, where Lando had finally cornered Max to apologise. The furious Dutchman had, as expected, been in no mood to hear it - but had stopped in his tracks and turned around when Lando slyly suggested that as he had taken something of his, it was only fair that Max get one of Lando’s precious things in return. Like maybe…you?
At the mention of your name, Max furrows his brows, telling Lando he wasn’t interested in the latest toy on the grid who spread her legs for whichever driver gave her some attention. Oh, Lando all but purred, that’s the catch, mate. She’s basically still a virgin, was one when I met her, only let me fuck her a couple of times, wants to save herself for the one or some shit. But I trained her how to use her holes, and fuck does she know how to suck a guy off with that sweet mouth of hers.
That’d caught Max’s attention, and he smirked to Lando, calling him a fucked up asshole for selling out the girl who was loyal to him like this, who was Toto Wolff’s daughter, no less - a powerful man someone like Lando wouldn’t want to make an enemy off. The Brit shrugged. Toto’s never going to find out. What’s mine is yours, mate. Enjoy. And with that, he tossed his room key to Max.
That night, Lando didn’t feel bad, not even one bit, as he tightly wound the rope around your delicate little wrists, knowing that you loved to act all innocent but secretly kinky shit like this has you dripping. Especially if you were going to be ruined tonight by a man who you secretly still had desires for - and Lando was certain you did, judging from the way he’d seen you look at Max like he was a God you wanted to worship on your knees. Really, he was being a good friend to you both by letting it happen - just this once of course, he wasn’t going to just hand you over to his track rival after putting in so much work to train you to be the perfect sex toy. So he’d left you there all alone in the room, abruptly saying he had an urgent call and would be back.
The drinks you’d had earlier certainly had their affects on you, making you whine against the tight ropes on your flushed and sensitive skin, almost grateful for the blindfold as you felt overstimulated already. When you finally heard the hotel door reopen, you sighed in relief as your fuckbuddy - soon to be boyfriend, you hoped! - finally came back. In your wildest fantasies you’d never have guessed that instead of Lando locking the door, Max stood in his place - and had taken one look at your tempting, restrained form and realized that the sly Brit had definitely not told you about his plans for tonight. Keeping you blind and tied up while you were tricked into thinking it was your beloved Brit entering you and not your daddy’s enemy, Max Verstappen? It was so dirty that Max got an instant hard on. He’d seen the looks, the touches you gave him too - they were rather hard to miss, after all. But he’d played aloof, not wanting to give into your gold digging ways - but he’d admit that he’s been rather disappointed when he found you’d settled for Lando instead. You’d surprised him with how loyal you remained to the McLaren driver, dutifully remaining by his side and avoiding Max’s intense gaze when it would occasionally flicker over to you. But when the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions tonight, Max had seen the desire in your blown pupils, in your hardened nipples that peaked just at the edge of your dress, and had cockily smirked at the realisation that Lando’s little toy, Toto’s precious daughter - that she was still lusting after him.
And now that this opportunity had presented itself….well, let’s just say that it had Max grinning wickedly as he plotted up all the ways he could walk away with both you and the world championship from Lando this year. That would certainly teach the younger male to mess with what was his, wouldn’t it? And even better, it would put that arrogant prick Toto in his place, keep him from daring to speak out against Max in the media when Redbull trashed Mercedes - because his adored little daughter would be spending the race weekends on her hands and knees for the Dutch world champion, if Max had anything to say about it.
So that’s how Max found himself at the foot of the bed, stripping off his clothes and lazily jerking himself off as he watched you squirm underneath your ropes, pouting as you couldn’t do your usual bit of trailing teasing hands all over Lando and rile him up. Baby? You crooned, tilting your head in the direction you thought he was in. Aren’t you going to-Oh!
You felt his warm, large palms cup your cheek, tracing your glossy, pink lips and you automatically poke your tongue out to circle his finger. Good girl, he sighed, the words making your tummy flutter. He sounded a little different to usual, his voice deeper, lower, but it was hard to think clearly over how much your head was pounding from raw desire, and you liked how he sounded tonight. You were feeling really horny and couldn’t wait for him to finally fuck you too - having had to desperately ride your tiny vibrator after stopping Lando fucking you multiple times this month.
His hands continued their path, trailing over your delicate throat and teasingly encircling it with his large hand, making you gasp - you hadn’t remembered it being quite so large that it wrapped around the whole width of your neck. But maybe your senses were more attuned now since you were blindfolded? It felt really good.
You promptly forgot to think about that any longer when those large hands moved downwards, roughly palming your bouncy tits and making you giggle from his attention. He teased and squeezed them, tugging down on the lace to free them in the open air, twisting on your hardened cute nipples. You squealed from the abuse to your overly sensitive areolas, distracted, and didn’t notice when your hands ended up being untied - only to be guided to a very large and hard cock.
Baby, you’d giggled, it’s been so long that you’re even bigger than I remembered. He swore under his breath as you diligently jerked him off with your two small hands barely wrapping around his length, spitting on it cutely to ease the glide. And then he’s rubbing his leaking cock all over your tits, slapping them with it and chuckling darkly as they jiggled, all wet from his precum. Before you know it, you were drooling and suckling all over his cock, sweetly moaning how good he tasted, even more than last time. Suckling his balls and then licking all the way the very tip, just like he’d taught you, placing messy lip gloss stained kisses down the wet shaft before sucking them clean off. You made sure to pay extra attention to the thick veins that ran underneath his length, even the new ones you hadn’t felt before, because he’d told you it drove men wild.
And when he grabbed your pretty curls, you let your mouth go lax so he could pump his full length furiously down your inviting throat, groaning how much of a good girl you were, maybe your full time job should be sucking his cock instead of trotting about the paddock. You moaned excitedly at the idea, and when he cums, all thick and creamy, you obediently swallow it all up.
Look, daddy, you say rather sluttily, dropping your mouth wide open, tongue out as you showed him how well you’d drank all his cum. Fuck, that’s so dirty, calling me and your father the same name, huh? Should’ve known you’d be into kinky shit like this.
You scrunch your brows cutely in confusion, not sure what he meant by that because you’d called him daddy many times before. But you don’t get to ponder too long because you suddenly hear the sound of a camera click and can see the flash go off through the blindfold. Your tummy lurches, because Nooo, baby, no photos, please, what if my dad sees-
Your pleas are ignored as you’re being lifted by two broad arms and tossed onto the bed, your hands dragged up and over your head as your wrists are tied to the headboard. You’re whining, asking him what he was doing, this was too much, you wanted to see him now, to touch him, but again you don’t get an answer.
Instead, you feel his thick fingers hooking around the sides of your soaked panties and sliding them off, lewd strings of your wetness clinging to the lace as it’s pulled away. Then you hear him deeply exhale a fucking hell, making you blush as strong hands grasp your ankles and push them far apart so your intimate parts are exposed for his hungry gaze.
That’s all the warning you get before there’s a foreign sensation of his warm breath blowing on your puffy folds, making you gasp, and before a broad tongue licks a stripe clean up your pink slit. You squeal in suprise, again stupidly babbling and asking what he was doing, because normally Lando didn’t like going down on you, finding it too much effort for a quick stress relieving fuck - he much preferred having you suck him off instead.
But the mouth currently lapping at your folds seems to have realized just how unfamiliar this pleasure seems to be for your sensitive cunny, because he buries his face right in, licking and slurping up all your dripping wetness. You thrash against your restrains, incoherently moaning because it feels so good baby, mmmh, why didn’t he do this more?
He laughs huskily, still buried inside your folds, and the deep vibrations make you almost cum right then and there. Your whole body is burning up with need now and you’re begging for him to put the condom on and slide in it, daddy, please, you needed it so bad-
You both moan as he finally sinks home, your creamy pussy gushing around him as it welcomes him in. You feel breathless at the size of him, because again he’s bigger and thicker than you remembered - not even just his cock, but his whole body, his bulging biceps and broad chest being able to hold you down with ease. You let him know it, too, whining that he’s so strong, it was really hot, had he been working out more?
That made him laugh again, lips grinning right by your ear, as he tilts your hips up to meet his and starts fucking your gushing pussy roughly. Through your euphoric daze, you feel familiar butterflies swirl in your stomach at the deep laugh, the accent sounding so different from Lando’s but still familiar to you for some reason - yet you still couldn’t quite place it. It was impossible to focus with the way he was thrusting into you, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress in a bruising grip, making your tits bounce with each pump, your breath come out in soft pants as you gasped for air. You’re about to cum, you can feel it, the intensity building up-
And then, finally, he takes off your blindfold. Your brown eyes take a second to adjust to the bright lights - and then you widen them in pure shock as you realize just who’s wide cock was splitting you open.
You scream as Max grins wickedly down at you, pulling back to leave just his leaking tip inside your tight cunny, before slamming back in and, setting a bed breaking pace and drowning out your panicked wails with the loud banging of the headboard against the walls. You’re doing so good for me, schatje he croons, his voice sickly sweet but his actions pure evil as he grabs your dirty panties and meanly shoves them past your plush lips. Grabbing your soft thighs, he tosses them over his shoulder as he bullies his cock into you even deeper from this angle, repeatedly hitting your poor cervix. Tears pool in your brown doe eyes as you look at where he enters you, horrified as you see he’s making you take his cock raw - something Lando and you never did despite how hot it sounded as a baby outside of marriage would be too much for both of your families. You cry and wail and scream, tears streaming down your face at the embarrasing and degrading treatment you’re experiencing. Really, it’s such wicked and sinful behaviour and you should hate Max so much for this, hate Lando for leaving you all tied up and alone and defenceless against his evil and twisted rival to take advantage of you like this, to bully your practically virgin cunny with each deep thrust from his massive cock.
So why are you rapidly reaching your orgasm even faster than before?
Max has apparently learnt the signs of your pliant body underneath him far too quickly, because he slides his thick cock out of your swollen cunny and instead rests it just on top of your folds. Almost lovingly wiping your tears away with a flick of his thumb, he demands that you beg for it, for his cock to split you in half, to cum inside you, for him, Max, to be the only man you ever let inside your sweet pussy from now on.
You frantically shake your head, your muffled no no nos an obvious contrast to what you secretly wanted, as you’re simultaneously bucking your hips up against his hard length, drenching it in new slick. He smirks, leaning down so your foreheads meet and sweetly kissing up your tears. Despite the depravity of the situation, you’re finding yourself blushing from the unexpected gesture. Schatje, he whispers darkly, sending shivers up your spine because you’d always gotten jealous hearing him call other women that, you’re making this so much harder on yourself. It’s going to be so fun to watch you fall apart for me.
With that, he agonisingly tortures you, dragging just his tip through your folds again and again, slapping your throbbing clit with his head, biting and sucking on your sensitive nipples that leaves you arching your back into his talented mouth. You’re struggling to make sense of what’s going on, of trying to keep coherent. All that hard work and patience to try and lure Lando in was gone the very second your pussy had welcomed Max into it, because you knew Lando would never take you back if he found out about this. Your desperate brain reasons that then, it shouldn’t matter, right? It was too late for you and Lando. And now, you had Max Verstappen using your pretty body however he wanted, making you fulfill all his twisted desires. If you showed him how good you could be for him, be the perfect little pet for all his frustrations to be let out at, maybe he’d keep you around…permanently?
Max didn’t miss the dazed look that had overtaken your wide doe eyes as your whines quietened down. Guess all his teasing had finally melted that scheming brain of yours. Yanking your panties out of your mouth, he asked you if you were ready to behave and ask him nicely.
You nod obediently, looking at him with heart eyes as you confess that his cock felt so good, so addictive, you don’t think you could ever go back to Lando after being stretched open so wide, and could he pretty please fuck you hard and good?
Max growls at your submissive words. You’re offering yourself up to me so sweetly, baby. How can I say no?
He unties your aching wrists, running his soothing palms over the rope marked skin, bending down to give you a passionate, open mouthed kiss. You greedily slurp at his intruding tongue, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure as he lines himself up at your entrance before easily sinking into the wet folds. This time, he doesn’t stop his wicked thrusts, not when you’re squirting on his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head, not when a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock from your cum, not when you’re tangling your hands in his hair and whining that it’s too much, you’re going to pass out.
He only stops once he’s tensing above you, one hand squeezing your neck and the other gripping the headboard as he drains his entire load into your tight cunny desperately clenching around him. Yours is truly the sweetest pussy he’s ever fucked. He’s never letting you go. He cums so much that it spurts out past your pussy lips, all over your soft thighs.
After a while, when he’s done whispering praises into your ears, your gooey brain soaking it all up, he slides out of you, admiring how his cum leaks out of your cunny that had treated him very well tonight. He places a gentle kiss to your temple and lets you doze off for a bit. It takes you a while longer to come to your senses, and when you sit up, you gulp down the glass of cold water that has been placed on the bedside table. You see Max spread out on an armchair across the room, shirtless and in some grey sweats, smirking at something on his phone - but he looks up when he hears you and lets his gaze drift down your marked up body. You flush under his intense ice blue eyes, heart fluttering at finally getting attention from the richest and fastest driver on the grid.
He beckons you over, calling you his pretty schatje, and in your blissed out state you obediently crawl over to him on your hands and knees, settling in between his spread legs and resting your head against his large thigh. And when he tells you that you looked so cute crawling for him, maybe next time he’ll get you a leash and collar with his name on it, hmm? you bite your lip and shyly nod, telling him of course, you’d do whatever daddy wanted.
He grins darkly, pleased with your submissive response, knowing you’re completely his. Forget Toto, forget Lando, the only man you’d ever be loyal to from now on was him. So you eagerly open your juicy lips wide at his command, drooling all over his cock to clean up the sticky mess your pussy walls had left behind. And when he points his phone at you, hitting record, you glassily stare straight at the camera, letting it capture how you hollowed your cheeks and licked up the creamy ring coating the base of Max’s cock. Gonna send this to your father if he keeps lying about how I’ve going to sign a Mercedes contract next year, Max teases meanly. Or to Lando if he tries to overtake me on the track again. You whine at him, brown doe eyes distressed, and start deepthroating him even faster to please him more, hoping if you did he wouldn’t show your daddy or ex fuckbuddy how much of a slut you were for the champion driver.
Being on your knees and obediently blowing Maxie was a position you became very familiar with. Because like he had wanted, every race weekend you would break your FIA contract clause of remaining unbiased and be dressed in a skimpy little outfit in Redbull colours, your lush tits pushed against Max’s thick biceps as you clung onto him through his paddock walk. Max couldn’t resist smirking at the Mercedes garage where Toto would glare, arms crossed, at the sight of his well accomplished daughter following the reckless Redbull champion around like a lost bunny. Placing a possessive large palm across your ass as he guided you into his private jet, giving it a good squeeze, Max made sure the paparazzi caught a good pic of that, too, for your father to see later when he opened Twitter.
And Lando, who knew how much Max despised sharing his toys, skulked from his seat when he saw you entering Max’s plane for the ride back to Monaco. He’d make sure to never make the mistake of flying in the Verstappen jet again, he thought as he moodily shoved his headphones over his ears to drown out the filthy sounds and desperate moans you let out as Max fucked you raw on the other side of the cabin divider. You’d never let Lando fuck you in such a public place or so often, no matter how often he’d begged you.
Fuck it, might as well make the most of it, the Brit thought once he stopped moping and realised his music wasn’t going to block out the obscene squelches as his rival continued to greedily bounce your creamy pussy on his thick cock. Shoving his hand down his pants, Lando slowly started jerking himself off, smirking when he sees one of Max’s air hostesses blush and bite her lip when he catches her looking. Apparently he hadn’t learnt his lesson of keeping his hands off what belonged to the Dutchman after all, because soon he’s thrusting into the hostess’s willing mouth with the same rapid pace that Max is fucking you with.
Your father had always said birds of a feather flocked together, after all.
—————————————————————————
A/N: POST FIC CLARITY HIT HARD IN THIS ONE AHHHHHH 😳😳 hope this satisfies the dark max hoes (yall are so real for that)😼😼 as usual let me know what you think and send in more requests!
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luveline · 2 months ago
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oh my god. steve harrington with a dreamy/luna lovegood like girlfriend would be so sweet! i feel like he would love how she’s always so kind and her head’s always in the clouds. he’d find her adorable, especially when she out of nowhere says something a little odd.
“What was that?” Steve asks. 
You aren’t talking to him, but he pretends you were. 
“I said, the sun doesn’t look very happy today.” 
Steve finds the sun, a white ache in his eyes behind a buffet of clouds. “I can’t tell.”
“Exactly.” 
Steve gets his arms under your armpits to drag you into his chest. You’re always content to be moved around, especially if it’s Steve doing the lifting. You slot yourself into his embrace unthinking. 
“I think you’d be much happier if you had a couch on the porch,” you say, “though maybe you’d suddenly like rock metal too. What do you think they have it for?” 
“Not sure. Afternoon people watching, maybe.” 
“Well, this is fun.” 
Eddie and Robin attempt to set up the sprinkler and water slide in the grass. Neither seems to have noticed that it’s too cold for this sort of play, both dedicated to the last day of summer. Usually you entertain either of them, partial to nonsense, but today you’ve stuck by Steve’s side. Probably because you’re cold. 
“I might get one, if you want one,” he says. 
“You know you can get a couch from the Salvation Army for ten bucks.” 
“And the bedbugs for free.” 
You laugh loudly, suddenly, before it chokes into a fizzy sort of giggle. “Most bugs are cute, but they give me the heebies.” 
“I don’t need any more strange creatures in bed with me, either way.” 
“You mean me.” You turn in his arms. He loves to feel it, your skin under his hands, the total ease you feel being smushed against him like two pieces of bread in the same pack. You jam yourself against him, your fingers working behind his neck. Cold. Rings tickling him, your fingernails scratching gently. “But I’m not a creature,” you murmur, “and I won’t be in your bed again, if that’s how you feel.” 
“Then who will help you fall asleep?” he asks. 
“I volunteer!” Eddie calls. 
“He looks like he gives a good back rub,” you say. 
Steve tips you away from him. “Idiot.” 
“Steve, doesn’t he?” you ask. “Eddie, come over here and rub our backs.” 
“Stay where you are,” Steve says to Eddie firmly. He pushes you away from him, trying his best not to laugh as you giggle and whine at being pushed. “Get lost.” 
“I’m going to take my shirt off now.” 
“For the back rub?” Steve asks, whiplashed. 
“No, doofus, for the water slide! Why would I take my shirt off for a back rub?” 
“I’ll show you why.” 
“I already know you’re good at them,” you say. 
“I’ll show you again.” 
You pause. A smile stretches over your lips. “Mm, okay.” 
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luludeluluramblings · 24 days ago
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I’m the anon who sent the pregnant Reader ask! And omg Sugar Baby! Reader is such a delight. Imagine the absolute 😦😧😨 journey on Bruce’s face upon realizing this man who is closer to him in age, old enough to be his daughter’s dad not only MARRIED but had the audacity to knock her up to. I can see little menace Damian asking Husband plenty of indiscreet questions and being straight up rude. Bruce lets him, and he has plenty of questions for the husband, too. How dare he seduce Bruce’s young, impressionable and sheltered daughter, has he no shame?
And of course they offer for Reader and husband to stay at Wayne manor while she recovers. All the hotels in Gotham are suddenly booked so they have to stay over, right? Husband can go right back to work too, Reader will be fine with her family. And why don’t they look at midwives or some of the best hospitals in Gotham, consider giving birth here? Not that they all wouldn’t track the rest of her pregnancy and fly out when she gives birth, but it keeps things simpler.
The sad thing about this concept, fun as it is, it’s that the Batfam is absolutely going to ruin Reader’s relationship either by sabotaging her husband, his business, maybe plant cheating evidence for her to find like Meta! Reader’s prom date. Obviously they will all be there to help pick up the pieces and aid Reader in recovering as well as caring for the baby.
Bruce holding his grandchild and Damian as an uncle too! Wholesome despite the circumstances.
Adding to this and adding a slight NSFW warning for at the end!
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
See, I feel like the counter to this would be Husband having a begrudging Alfred in his corner. Like, Alfred isn’t happy about this guy being married to Reader. But, unfortunately, this is the healthiest relationship anyone in the family has ever been in and he doesn’t wanna ruin that for Reader.
Although, the petty passive aggressive bullshit Hubby’s gonna go through at the manor will probably escalate to the point of them sabotaging his business or making Hubby and Reader snap at the family together.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Reader’s not stupid enough to fall for planted cheating evidence. They know their husband (man’s too old to be trying that nonsense and they also take good care of him themselves.) Plus, they probably told Hubby about how neglected they were by their family. Hubby’s gonna be prepared mentally for the bullshit, even if it does eventually overwhelm him.
But, if you want angst, which I’m guessing you do. I’d say Hubby could tragically die. The family either went to far with the sabotage or an accident happened at work.
(Or, because the dude I imagined Hubby being is Philip Graves, he has to fake his death temporarily for work reasons. Oooo, hubby can grovel and show the Bat family how it’s done when he comes back.)
Either way, you have a distraught Reader. But, I would also add Reader has a difficult pregnancy . That’s why hubby was spoiling her so much.
Imagine the bat family dealing with a hormonal pregnant reader that blames them for their husband’s subsequent death while also being in pain?
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Also, if the family ended up insisting y’all stay at the manor you KNOW your husband would fuck you on every available surface without fucking care. He’d clean you and the place up right after, but everyone in that house would know how good he’d be dicking you down.
Alfred don’t care, he dealt with horny Bruce. Bruce, though, he just sit in his bed silently screaming in his own personal hell. Everyone else is traumatized. Especially when you be calling hubby daddy when he be hitting it just right.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
(I’m tagging this as SugarBaby!Reader and this is going to have to be a series at this point. One day, one day.)
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cloudybarnes · 1 year ago
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Busy Bee
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader
Summary: you may have accidentally fallen asleep on draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them
Word Count: 2.6k+
Masterlist
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✰  ✰  ✰
“Blaise, move your big arse away from my comfy spot.”
You had a tiring day of classes, and wanted nothing more than to just relax for the rest of the night. You had gone back to the Slytherin common room to hopefully see some of your friends and just wind down for the night. 
Everyone in Slytherin knew there was one special spot on the lounge couch that was reserved for you. You had spent countless hours and dozens of nights in that exact spot either studying or just hanging out with friends. That was your spot, and when you came into the common room, everyone knew to make way for it. 
Blaise chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, (Y/N), didn’t realize you’d be back so early.”
“Early?” You exclaimed as you jumped into your spot. “I’ve been busting my butt all morning for these stupid exams. I’m exhausted.”
Pansy groaned from her spot on the floor. “Why don’t you just cut yourself a break once in a while? It’s no fun when my best friend is too busy for, like, anything anymore.”
You frowned. “I’m not too busy for you! I’m here now, aren’t I?” You grabbed a blanket from the stockpile you kept in the common room, and wrapped yourself tight in it. 
Pansy rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just in time to hear about the latest shit with Emma.” 
Pansy had a wild grudge against this poor Hufflepuff girl who didn’t even know that Pansy was beefing with her. It was quite funny, honestly, but you loved Pansy enough to let her moan on about what annoying thing Emma does everyday. 
“Oh goody.” Draco came out from the stairwell into the common room with a roll of his eyes. “Another go round of how insufferable you think that Hufflepuff is.” 
He glanced over to see you cocooned in your blanket and let out a soft laugh. Draco took his seat next to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you. 
Draco intrigued you. Over the last year, the two of you had grown quite close. You considered Draco a good friend, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish it were more. Draco was kind. He was flirtatious and charming, but he was sweet and gentle with you as well. Sometimes you thought Draco may have feelings for you in return, but you were far too scared to confront him about it. 
“Well, for starters, we already know how much of a know it all she is, but for some reason she has to showboat just how smart she is. You’d think she was a Ravenclaw what with how obsessed she is with being correct.” Pansy said. 
Blaise started to respond to her squawking when Draco shifted closer to you. Blaise’s voice drifted away as you focused your attention to Draco. 
“You alright, Dray?” You asked. 
He smiled slightly. “Yeah, just trying to get comfortable. Salazar knows Pansy will be talking about this nonsense for hours.” 
Draco dropped his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder and pull you into him. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, silently hoping Draco couldn’t feel the intensity of it. 
You tried to hide the grin threatening to break out on your lips as you snuggled closer to his chest. This was definitely a first for you guys. Though you and Draco had been quite flirty, he’d never been so open with his physical touch before. 
“Then she had the nerve to choose me as her partner. Like I would ever consider her!” Pansy glanced over at you and did a double take when she saw you wrapped up in Draco. Her eyes grew slightly, but she averted them with a clear of her throat as to not make it obvious. 
“And then, she had the audacity-“
“She really is quite obsessed with this hufflepuff, huh?” Draco whispered to you, quiet enough for Pansy not to hear. 
You looked up at him. His face was so close to yours, your noses were practically touching. You bit your lip as a smile threatened your face. 
“Yeah,” you whispered back as you stared into his eyes. “Leave her be though, it keeps her entertained.”
Draco chucked, his minty breath hitting your face due to your close proximity. Your own breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how close you were to him. You could feel your stomach doing cartwheels as you took in all of his glorious features up close. The glimmer in his eyes, the point of his nose, the curve of his lips. 
“I didn’t see you earlier,” Draco shifted the conversation, pulling your gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “What were you doing all day, busy bee?”
You blushed at the nickname. “I was just in the library writing up essays and study guides for our finals.” You let out a yawn, the reminder of your morning making you realize just how exhausted you were. 
“Sleepy?” Draco murmured in your ear.
You nodded your head with a mumbled ‘yes’, then rested your head on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm tight around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. With his other hand, he softly combed his fingers through your hair.
You hummed as you closed your eyes. “You’re comfy,” you sleepily mumbled. 
Draco chuckled. His fingers brushed against your cheeks every once in a while as he gently continued combing through your hair. 
As you felt yourself falling asleep, you could hear Draco shushing Pansy and Blaise to ensure they didn't wake you. 
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning you wake in your bed, unsure of how you got there. You must have gone up sometime in the night and just not remembered. 
With a shrug, you stood up and stretched your arms over your head. Pansy was snoring in the bed next to you. You tiptoed over to her and gently shook her awake. 
“Pansy,” you called as you shook her some more. “Come on, babe, time to wake up.” 
She just grumbled and swatted your hand from her shoulder. You huffed. Pansy was terrible in the mornings, and for some reason unknown to you, she didn’t believe in alarm clocks so you got stuck waking her up every morning. 
A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk you jumped on top of her sleeping body. 
“Ahh!” She shouted as you frantically shook her awake.
“It’s wake up time, Pans! We’ve got to get ready for our charms exam this fine, beautiful morning.” You said with a laugh. 
Pansy sat up and pushed you off of her so you laid on the bed instead. “Geez,” she grinned as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. “Who knew a night with Draco would make you so chipper this morning.”
You sat upright in crisscross as your smile fell. “Wait, what?”
You had spent the night with Draco? But that didn’t make sense, you woke up by yourself in your own bed. Plus, you would have remembered if something had happened between the two of you. 
Pansy saw your confused expression and chuckled. She grabbed a pillow and gently swatted you in the face with it. “Not like that, you silly. Salazar knows if you slept with Draco you’d have probably died of happiness.”
“Hey!” You whined as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. “I’m not that crazy for him.” 
“Oh, please,” Pansy scoffed with a slight smile. “I saw the way you cuddled up with him last night. I almost had a heart attack for you when I saw how close you were! Go (Y/N), go (Y/N)!” She cheered. 
You laughed and pushed Pansy away from you. “Shut up!” Your giggles died down as you recalled how you laid with him last night. “Was it really that obvious?”
“Girl please! I thought Draco was gonna scoop you up and run away with you. You should have seen the look on his face when you fell asleep on him. He looked at you like you hung the damn stars in the sky.”
Your heart fluttered. You knew there was something going on with you and Draco, but by the way Pansy was talking, though she had a knack for exaggeration, it sounded like he really did have a thing for you. 
“So, what do I do now?” You asked as you slightly rocked back and forth on her bed. 
“Are you joking?” Pansy deadpanned at you. “(Y/N/N), you gotta go get your man! I���m tired of watching you two drool like little puppies over each other just for nothing to come out of it.” 
Your cheeks flushed. It had been a long time of this back and forth with Draco, and you decided you were ready to see where it got you. 
“Okay, I’m gonna tell him next time I see him.” You said. 
Pansy cheered. “Yes, finally! Now hurry up, I’ll help you pick a cute outfit that has ‘date me’ written all over it.” 
You chuckled as Pansy eagerly jumped up and ran to your closet. She grabbed your shortest skirt, a white button up top, and your Slytherin robes. 
“Pans, how is this any different than my usual outfit?” You asked as you stood from the bed and joined her near the closet. 
“Ah, my sweet (Y/N), it’s not about the clothes you wear, but how you wear them.” She grinned as she threw the clothes into your hands. “Put them on so I can work my magic.”
You chuckled and stripped out of your pajamas to put on your school outfit. Turning back to Pansy, you said, “Okay, now what?” 
She devilishly grinned. Pansy pulled your skirt even higher up your legs to expose just a bit more of the skin there. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt and fixed your boobs so they popped out a little bit more. She wrapped the robe around your shoulders, but let the front open so you could see everything underneath. 
“And no tie,” she added, “that way your shirt can stay that way.”
You chuckled. “You get me into all these crazy shenanigans, you know that right?” 
“You know you love me.”
“Yeah,” you added wearily, “but what if it’s too much? I mean, we still have to go to class. It’s not like I'm only going to see Draco.”
“Who cares?” Pansy asked as she started to dress herself in a similar manner. “Let the other boys stare and show Draco that you’re a hottie who other boys can get at if he decides he’s gonna be a wuss today.”
You laughed. Pansy always knew just how to make you feel better. “Alright, let’s get out there, then. Don’t wanna keep all the boys waiting.” You winked at her. 
Pansy smirked and wrapped her arm with yours. You walked out together and down to your first class that you shared. 
Luckily for you, Draco did not share the same period for charms as you. You thought if Draco was in the class you would have surely failed your final. 
You felt pretty confident in your answers, and soon enough class was dismissed. 
Your heart beat out of your chest as you said your goodbyes to Pansy and walked to your next class: one you shared with Draco. 
Nervously, you picked at your clothes as you walked to potions. On your way there, you couldn’t help but notice all of the random students staring at you. Boys, and girls, sneaked peaks at you as you walked past them. 
It felt nice to be noticed, you just hoped Draco would react in a similar way. 
Speak of the devil.
There Draco stood in all his glory. He leaned against the wall outside of the potions room looking you up and down. Draco’s lip was trapped between his teeth and he sized you up. 
“Bloody hell, (Y/N).” Draco mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear over your rapidly-beating heart. 
Draco pushed himself off the wall and started walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He didn’t say anything. All he could do was stare. Draco knew you were gorgeous; he’d be a bloody fool to not have noticed it before, but there was something about the way you looked that made his head spin. 
While he shouldn’t say it, Draco had always imagined how you would look after he’d had his way with you. He didn’t ever want to seem like a creep, you were too sweet for that, but that just made him more curious. 
In all honesty, he didn’t know you had this in you. 
“Uh, Draco?” You asked. Draco had zoned out as he stared at you. You could feel your cheeks getting warm and you took in how awestruck he looked. 
“Hm?” He glanced back up into your eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart, you just- you just look incredible. Well, you look gorgeous everyday, just you look gorgeous and sexy if that makes sense.” 
You raised an eyebrow almost teasingly. “Oh, so you think I look sexy now, huh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you liked the way Draco’s eyes widened as you crossed your arms over your chest, pushing your boobs out ever so slightly.
Once he recovered, a smirk adorned his handsome face. “I always think you look sexy, now I'm just seeing it in person rather than my dreams. And speaking of dreams,” Draco grinned devilishly, “how did you sleep last night, darling?” 
You had almost forgotten about the confusion of the night. “I slept well. I think.” You chuckled as you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t exactly remember getting to bed, though. Care to enlighten me?” 
Draco chuckled, “You fell asleep, quite adorably I might add, and I as the gentleman I am had the privilege of carrying you up the stairs and tucking you in for the night.” 
You smiled, “how come you didn’t just wake me?”
Draco’s cheeks tinged pink. “I, uh, I just knew how tired you were from your morning and I didn’t want to disturb you. Hope that was okay.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. 
You grinned and reached up to squeeze his arm. “It was really sweet of you, Draco.” 
The two of you stared at each other for a minute, the silence held some tension, it had some longing imbedded into it. 
“Draco…” 
“Do you want to go out sometime?” Draco cut you off. 
You gaped at him. “Like a date?”
Draco smiled, “yeah, exactly a date. I knew I’ve liked you for a little while, (Y/N), but when you cuddled up against me last night, I had this thought that I wanted to do it again. And then again after that too. You held onto like you needed me, and, uh, I really liked that.”
Draco blushed a little at his confession and shuffled his feet around nervously. 
You couldn’t help but grin and wrap your arms tight around his neck. Draco was a little taken aback by your quick movement, but surely sunk into your hug and wrapped his arms around your waist. 
“I’d love to go out with you, Dray,” you whispered as you were pressed so close to him. “I’ve been hoping you would ask me out for a long time.”
Draco pulled away, but still held his hands on your waist. “Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, darling.”
You giggled and grabbed Draco’s hands to pull him towards the classroom. “Come on, Slughorn doesn’t wait for anyone and I need to do good on this exam.”
Draco chuckled and let you pull him along to class. He couldn’t wait to finally take you out on a date. 
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syddsatyrn · 9 months ago
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Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️
Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.
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⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff
⛧Words: 2.5k
⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.
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The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.
You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 
After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.
You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 
 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.
She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.
“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.
"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.
"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  
You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 
"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."
“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.
"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.
"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”
Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.
"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.
"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.
"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.
"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 
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yestrday · 8 months ago
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― YANDERE! GENSHIN ACADEMY AU. pt one | two | three | four | five
⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno + ayato, baizhu, mika / gn! reader
introducing! from sumeru hails teyvat's brightest minds, and it's no surprise that many of the academu's smartest are true-blood sumerians. a lesser known fact is that these are less skilled in the workings of the heart, and therefore, a bit more unstable than the average lad.
warning! yandere, obsessive & possessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, master-pet dynamics, mentions of bullying, physical wounds
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— STOIC ACADEMIC TYPE. alhaitham | الهيثم
[ “if you’re looking to get my help, i’d rather you just outright say it than dilly-dallying around.” ]
⇢ one of the geniuses in your second year, haitham is a no-nonsense type of guy that has that air of arrogance around him. he’s quite hard to approach, and he doesn’t care to socialize with any of your circles. he has, however, taken a liking to you, and will usually just drag you around whenever he feels like it.
⇢ expect forced study sessions with him in the library. he’s very keen on making sure your grades are in tip-top shape, even though you never asked him for help. it’s obvious that he takes a bit of sadistic pleasure when you ask him for his help. when you ask him on how to solve a problem, he stops whatever he’s reading and scrutinizes you with those stoic eyes, before a small and smug grin forms on his face. sometimes you’re not sure if he truly wants to help you or he just likes to hear you plead and beg.
⇢ kinda likes to see you screw up as well. seeing you excel (because he helped you, after all) is all nice and good, but he likes to see you fumble it every once in a while. sometimes you get a bit arrogant, refusing his help and insisting that you can do it by yourself, only for it to backfire in your face. when you run back to him with your begging and pleading, he puts on a show of being nonchalant about it. didn’t you say you were fine? so why bother him now, and especially in the middle of a good book?
⇢doesn’t hide the fact that he sort of treats you like a pet, with the way he drags you to and fro. his blunt everyday tone makes everyone feel like he’s looking down at them, but even more so with the way he talks to you. stay, he says when you start approaching him. sit, he tells you. whether you follow or not is up to you, and while he does love having an obedient pet, there is some fun to be found in keeping a bratty one.
⇢likes to see you rely on him. is it out of genuine care or because he sees you as a complete fool who can’t do anything on their own, time will tell, but he’s strangely insistent about you depending on him. he doesn’t make it very obvious, especially when he acts like he could give two shits about anything, but when you mention having troubles, he says things like “that is what you’re having trouble with?” without offering his help, you usually start nagging him for the answer.
⇢haitham isn’t one for praise but… he does get a kick off you praising him. not because he’s starved for it (he’s had heaps of that ever since he showed his academic prowess) but because it felt just right. he does help you a lot, doesn’t he? taking the time out of his busy day to help you with whatever silly thing you need. the least you could do is thank him for it.
[ “honestly, you ought to be more grateful with how much i’m always helping you.” ]
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– PASSIONATE TYPE. kaveh | کاوه
[ “oh yeah, uh, i guess i did win that! do… do you like it?” ]
⇢ your senior kaveh who’s been all over you ever since your first year. he’s a bit clingy with his touches, holding onto your arm while you walk and greeting you with hugs ever since the two of you got close. whenever the two of you see each other in the hallways, he immediately latches onto you and doesn’t let go. will drag you around while chatting your ear off.
⇢ often starts to show off when you’re around. he tries to be really nonchalant about it too, like casually trying to slip in his accomplishment in the middle of a conversation to make it seem like he’s not trying too hard. when you smile and compliment him, he starts to stutter and blush, losing the cool composure he tried to maintain just moments ago. the others tease him for being a senior who wants to impress his junior and he quickly denies it (“they’re just saying what they want!” he’d huff to you), but you can’t deny the red blush and the pleased smile on his face.
⇢ always trying to help other people out, even if he’s too busy. while he’ll drop everything he’s doing when you ask him a favor, he also doesn’t have the heart to say no to others. some days, he gets a bit disheveled by dismissal after helping out so many people at once. when he starts whining to you and he becomes even clingier, be understanding and let him. he’s had a rough day, after all.
⇢ everyone knows the shenanigans that occur around you in school and kaveh is no exception. so he’s made a bit paranoid every day, wondering when of your crazed suitors will snap and just kidnap you. he could just do it himself and not worry about being separated from you, but he thinks he’s above such things (true, but only without the proper motivation). to compensate for this, he spends every second with you like it’s his last.
⇢ did you just hold his hand?!? that must mean something, right?! he conveniently forgets that you’ve held hands with numerous other people in this academy, but you can’t blame the poor dude, he’s the type to overthink stuff like that. he’s gone over seemingly normal moments between you two countless times in his head, wondering if any of that meant something. at the back of his head, he knows he’s overreacting. but then he remembers when you gave him some papers and your fingers lingered for some seconds then he starts squealing in his pillow, absolutely deluded by his fantasies.
⇢ he’s not the jealous type…! really! he knows how kind and sweet you are. he knows that the praises you have for him are genuine and the way you look at him in admiration is all real. you’re not the type to fake those after all…! even so… even so, you continue to look at others with that same look, and praise them with the same praise. it’s not that they don’t deserve it but… is he not just good enough? to have your praises reserved for only him… was he just not worthy of that?!
[ “did i… did i do something wrong…? please, just talk to me, look at me!” ]
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— SASSY TYPE. tighnari | الطغنري
[ “those idiots… honestly, they could at least treat you with a little more care!” ]
⇢ straightforward and no-nonsense, tighnari is well-respected among his peers for being an academic with an honest personality. especially in a school where anything can just tip anyone off, tighnari does not care about who he has to offend to make them back off. as such, many suitors can’t just do their trickery to you whenever he’s watching, lest he call them out on the spot.
⇢ he’s very concerned about your wellbeing. he’s often warning you about the dangers of the men you surround yourself with. whether you believe him or not is up to you, but that won’t stop him from trying to prevent anything from happening to you. obviously, he can’t just say that someone’s killed someone— he doesn’t want to ruin your life like that— but he’s often cryptic, hoping that you’ll figure it out for yourself.
⇢ very naggy, though he nags like a disappointed mother rather than a caring one. you and cyno are often at the end of these rants when you two do something stupid (either together or as individuals), but it’s a sign that tighnari truly cares about you. he could care less whether haitham cut himself on one of his books, but when you do he’s immediately all over you and berating you for being stupid and careless.
⇢ becomes too smug whenever you show a preference for him. he loves feeling when you choose him over anyone else and the suitors stew in their anger when he shoots them a haughty grin. cyno often has to remind him that he’s being too much, but he knows how much tighnari delights in defeating the other harem members without even having to do anything. you chose him out of your own free will, and that says a lot more than having you forced to pick him.
⇢ being raised on botany and all its properties, tighnari’s almost an expert in all things plants and that includes their… chemistry. it’s no surprise that he’s one of the suitors who are capable of concocting their little mixtures. when using it on other competitors, he’s not one to dirty his hands. he often has cyno slipping a thing or two in their drinks (or in special cases, an overly desparate kaveh). but when it comes to tampering with your drink? well, he reserves that special privilege for himself, all for the pleasure of watching the chemicals slowly affect you.
⇢ a smart guy, who knows that the way to your heart is not intimidating you into it but instead playing the nice and concerned friend. poor you, always being chased around by these unstable men. why have them who will only hurt you, when you can come to him, someone that you can trust? even if your vision is slipping away, your body becomes heavy… you can trust him, no matter what~
[ “feeling sleepy already? dear me, your body is really fragile… and cute ♪” ]
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— GUARD DOG TYPE. cyno | κύων 
[ “if they’re bothering you again, talk to me. i’ll be the one to handle it.” ]
⇢ serious cyno who amuses you with his corny jokes delivered with a stoic expression. despite looking so mature, being with cyno often gets you two into trouble that he didn’t foresee. it has something to do with that intimidating expression and the way he’s ready to fight anyone who nears him. people mistake him for challenging them to a fight, and more often than not you’re left watching cyno beat down opponents in self-defense.
⇢ when people aren’t busy trying to fight him, cyno’s always seen patrolling the campus halls as head of the security committee. you can tell who’s been caught by him before by the way they flinch and avoid his piercing gaze. even many of his admirers are a bit terrified of him, and all they can do is just watch him walk over to you and whisper in your ear. they think you’re in trouble, but in reality, he’s telling you to meet him at the same meeting spot because he wants to show you this rare genius invocation card he just bought.
⇢ no one in his friend group takes him seriously anymore, not when he’s busy challenging all of them to a tcg fight every get-together. they tend to get roped up into his antics, and you can see how boys really will just be boys as the four of them begin to one-up each other into petty competitions. and cyno’s always been the most competitive out of them.
⇢ cyno seems to have a habit of suddenly showing up moments before one of your suitors plans to do something. they might start to sneak into your lockers to steal something when they see cyno leaning casually against the wall with a knowing glint in his eye. or when one of them spikes your drink and cyno unhesitatingly takes your glass and dump it on the floor, without breaking eye contact with the suspect. the guard dog that you don’t know about.
⇢ part of the protective stalker group within your suitors who make sure to follow you from the shadows whenever he has free time. these stalkers are often chill with each other, nodding at each other in acknowledgment whenever they bump into each other in one of their stalking escapades. he keeps a close eye on you at all times, with your security purely his concern and nothing else.
⇢ indifferent to getting his hands bloody. he’s not unreasonable— he knows that he can’t kill someone just because he’s jealous or something like that. he can’t risk doing something that will have an impact on you. but justice has to be served, and when he sees someone hurt you or become a threat to your safety… he just can’t help it. whether it’s mixing nari’s poison or simply giving them a cold, swift death, everything he does is because he loves you so.
[ “hush, there’s nothing to cry about. they’re gone, no one will hurt you. i have served you justice.” ]
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— SCHEMING TYPE. kamisato ayato | 神里綾人
[ “oho? it pains me that you’re so wary of me, even after all these years!” ]
⇢ senior ayato who always has that gentle but calculating mask on, socializing with many people but never close to any of them. when people start realizing that you might have caught his interest, they have warned you about him and whatever shady motives he might harbor. but whenever he approached you, he was so kind and generous with his offerings… not that you were fooled.
⇢ he’s always showering you with gifts whenever you’re together like he’s trying to flex his wealth. bump into him at the mall? he tells you to walk with him for a bit, but you leave with a luxury item you eyed for a few seconds. bundles you up in his scarf when you’re feeling chilly, however when you try to return it to him on the next day he just tells you to keep it so casually like the fabric doesn’t cost you your life savings.
⇢ when class isn’t keeping them both apart, thoma is always seen attending to ayato’s side. it’s not a secret that thoma can go to school because the kamisatos are funding his education, so no one really questions it. they do get a little bit suspicious whenever the two seem a little… intimate, but in the end, who really cares?
⇢ you should really heed others’ warnings about ayato, because it’s clear that he’s a dangerous fellow. he seems to know everything about everyone. once, he had threatened your bullies off with a thinly veiled threat regarding their shady pasts. you don’t know how he got hold of such rare information, but it seems that he’s one of the many people at this school with an information network under their fingertips.
⇢ while he does view you with adoration, it’s clear with how he talks to you that he doesn’t view you as his equal. with the way he talks you down sometimes like he’s talking to a pet rather than a fellow student, you sometimes feel a bit… demeaned. but when ayato tucks your hair behind your ear so tenderly, you have to second-guess your apprehensions.
⇢ the difference between you two is clear. he is the elite of the elite and you are… you. and he takes advantage of this without guilt. it starts as off remarks, about how you wouldn’t survive a day in their society, then it transforms into something bigger. before you know it, he’s criticizing your clothes, your posture, your personality… anything to nail in the fact that you. are. different. till you lose your pride and self-worth. till ayato makes sure that you won’t have the willpower to fight back once he begins his schemes.
[ “but i’m not lying, am i? you are different, and we can’t really do anything about that, can we?” ]
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— SUSPICIOUS TYPE. baizhu | 白术
[ “another trip to the nurse, i see… if i didn’t know better, i would think you were here to see me.” ]
⇢ senior baizhu is head of the health committee and is often seen helping out at the nurse’s. his kind and gentle nature makes the sterile place feel a lot more comforting and he attends to each patient without complaint. but when you come over, the nurse remarks how baizhu seems a bit more stressed whenever he frets over you. you’re not quite sure… after all, baizhu has always been so caring towards you and everyone else.
⇢ he’s sickly himself, so sometimes he has to rely on others for help. he does seem to ask you for help more so than the others, but you really shouldn’t mind. after all, he’s done so much for you! he’s prone to fainting, thankfully not that severe, but you have to catch him in your arms before he hits the floor. the way he thanks you and softly utters your name has you almost dropping him, and you swear there’s a cheeky grin on his face that’s gone a second after.
⇢ although his reputation is generally favorable, there are whispers that he and his family are involved in shady medical research. baizhu, when asked about these, will always only laugh and shake his head. ‘let them say what they want to say’, he would tell them. ‘what matters is that i’m capable of tending to them when they come to me for help.’ such thoughtful words often erase whatever doubts they have about baizhu and even make them guilty for even falsely accusing him.
⇢ but they’re right, though. they are a big pharmaceutical company, and every massive corporation has its shadows. a solo research that he’s been working on is in the area of immortality. in recent years, he’s been working on it with much more fervor now that he’s met you. back then, his goal for immortality was always directionless, only researching for the sake of curiosity. but now he has a clear goal: to spend eternity with you and for you.
⇢ he’s an expert businessman and your harem members are well aware of that. among them, he’s known to make many shady deals, especially since he’s so knowledgeable in… drugs. he makes a lot of profit from this, but another clear advantage is his time with you. though these rich students could just buy their drugs literally anywhere, no one quite provides the safety of not being caught like baizhu.
⇢ … might make those deals because more often than not, they end up with you in the nurse’s office. whether bruised from the bullying of another suitor or disoriented from some sort of poison, you rush to the nurse before things get worse for you. you’re so smart, he’d praise you as he tends to the wounds. there is a pleasure in bandaging you up, knowing full well that he could easily dig his nails into the cuts and leave you more in need of his help.
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— ANXIOUS TYPE. mika schmidt 
[ “they’re very cool but i… maybe i shouldn’t get too close…” ]
⇢ lil bro gets pushed around by the meaner people in his year and he doesn’t even question it. it’s just very easy to take advantage of him, with his eager-to-please personality and his notable ability to do almost anything exceptionally well. it takes him being adopted into the first-year harem group before the bullying dies down (mainly because most of the people there are well-known and powerful). he doesn’t quite understand how they could bond over a person (you) and was originally quite frightened at their almost fanatic worship of you.
⇢ no one would think he’s part of your harem, not with the way he desperately tries to avoid you. in fact, you could count the times you’ve talked to him on two hands. on all times he was a blushing and stuttering mess to the point that he was incoherent. xingqiu seemed to take a kick out of his embarrassment, while aether softly coaxed him into forming a full sentence in front of you. what stuck with you was how he refused to shake your hand, to which xingqiu bowled over laughing. 
⇢ when he got a little bit more comfortable with you, he was still shy albeit not much to the point that he wasn’t willing to offer you help. you’d often bump into each other while you’re on your errand, and he takes half the workload. most of the time, the two of you work in silence, with mika taking frequent glances at you. when you’re done, he says a meek ‘goodbye!’ and sprints off.
⇢ stalks you around school like a little creep, but thankfully not to the point where he follows you home. he’d peek from around a corner, watching you in the distance with wide eyes in admiration. you’re always so hardworking and excellent… it’s no wonder you have so many admirers! he was almost caught by you a few times, but thankfully you’re none the wiser. his stalking is painfully obvious to the other harem members, but they think him harmless enough that they don’t pay him any mind.
⇢ things that you need the most are always miraculously appearing in your bag, locker, table, etc. when you had complained to thoma about not bringing your lunch, later that day you’d open your locker to find a freshly made lunchbox. when you grumble to yourself about running out of correction tape, a pack with the plastic still on appears on your table. you’re perplexed, albeit grateful. after all, this isn’t the first time some creepy shit has happened to you.
⇢ he really really wishes he’d work up the courage to talk to you face to face without having to be so nervous… but he can’t help the jitters whenever you’re just in front of him! your voice has his ears ringing, your scent has him dizzy, and you’re just so, so cool that he feels so small compared to you! how could he ever talk to you like this…! maybe in the future, when mika would be more capable and dependable…
[ “a–aah… how could i talk to them! they’re too…!” ]
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hyunebunx · 29 days ago
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (maknae line)
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⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a lot more angst and suggestive themes!!
⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: toxic relationship dynamics (not all of them)
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: hyung line here!! hope you enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs! <3
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𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧
Another jealous one. Honestly, in his case, you’re both jealous and it’s justified.
You guys go back and forth a lot. One minute you want him, the next you don’t and that really messes with Jisung’s head on a daily basis.
The line between friendship and something more is blurred here since you’ve done numerous things that have crossed it multiple times but unfortunately, neither of you knows how to handle that.
You: did you get home safe?
As expected, his reply came only a minute later since he was always glued to his phone.
Ji <3: yeah bin dropped me off
You: that’s good
You: did you have fun at the party? with that girl that was all over you?
You couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you hit send, suddenly overtaken by this indescribable feeling of anxiety. You could picture the reaction that simple question would get out of Jisung, the furrow of his eyebrows and the displeasure on his face clear as day in your mind.
Ji <3: y/n what the fuck
The three dots that indicated he was typing kept appearing and disappearing, almost like he couldn’t decide on a response, as taken aback as you thought he’d be. That went on for a few moments more before stopping altogether and next thing you knew, your phone lit up with an upcoming call. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for another argument before sliding your finger on the screen to answer.
“What nonsense is your pretty little mouth sprouting right now, Y/n?” Came his slightly groggy voice, visibly exhausted after the long night he had had partying. No ‘hello’, no ‘baby’, even if he seemed calmer than you expected, Jisung was obviously aggravated by your behavior.
Moving the phone from one ear to the other, you tried to ease some of your anxiety by sitting down on the bed. “Nonsense? Jisung, you do know I received pictures of you and this random girl from three of my friends, right?”
Jisung let out a strained laugh, one that conveyed all of his anger. “What is this now? Did you stoop so low as to put your friends to spy on me when you’re not here?”
“Are you hearing yourself?” your voice got louder as all of your muscles grew tense. “I just asked you a fucking question, nobody was spying on you!”
You heard him exhale loudly on the other end, presumably rolling his eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to speak to people of the opposite gender now?”
A sigh escaped you at that, rolling your shoulders before letting yourself fall back against the many pillows, frowning.
“You know that’s not what I asked, Ji – “
“Oh, I know.” He cut you off, the argument giving him more energy. “You were just wondering if we fucked.”
With wide eyes, you sat up trying to defend yourself but his velvety voice interrupted once again.
“Don’t worry, you’re the only one I fuck at parties. The only one I fuck, in general.” Even if these words were meant to reassure you, the tone of his voice did anything but that. “Any more questions or jealousy fueled craziness?”
You scoffed, your nerves slowly morphing into anger that threatened to bubble to the surface any second. The audacity to call you crazy and be bothered by your behavior when he usually lost his goddamn mind if a guy as much as breathed in your direction, was wild. This thing you and Jisung had wasn’t healthy, you could see it, and everyone in a 100-mile radius could see it. But the feelings that blossomed along the way felt too real, and intense for either of you to just call it quits, no matter how toxic your current dynamic was. Most of the time, you brought out the worst in each other, but you also felt like your best couldn’t even exist without him.
With another sigh, the man tried to redeem himself once he realized he might’ve taken it a bit too far, voice barely above a whisper as he softened up.
“I’ve been chasing after you to make you my girlfriend for months now, baby. Do you really believe I’d do something like that to us?”
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧
No matter your relationship status, Felix treats you like you’re the most precious person in the world. No surprises here.
He’s so gentle and loving, the sight of you never fails to put a smile on his face. Wants to be near you all the time, always invading your personal space and clinging to you any chance he gets.
Hugs, lingering touches and not so innocent kisses. There’s a very strong longing for the other here.
Laughter could be heard as you and Felix were playfighting on the couch, skilled fingers tickling every spot you knew would make the other lose their mind. One of the perks of being such good friends was having easy access to each other’s weaknesses, making the tickle war fair on both fronts. Though you prided yourself on having many aces under your sleeve, Felix countered them easily each and every time.
“Just – “ Your sentence was cut off by another fit of laughter as Felix continued his attack, not even giving you the chance to speak. “Admit you cheated! You’re a cheater Lee Felix! I would have won that race fair and square if you wouldn’t have bombed me right at the finish line.”
Felix only laughed in response, not admitting anything as he continued to tickle your sides. His innocent mask always fooled you into forgetting that to his core, he was a notorious cheater who loved tricking others.
“Or maybe you’re just a sore loser.” He grinned, gently nudging your side to have you fall on the couch. Briefly stopping his tickle assault, he then moved to hover over you, smile turning into a smug, a little too arrogant, smirk.
The air shifted as he got even closer, one hand moving upwards your body until it reached your face. Your eyes met and his smirk dropped, not once looking away while he stopped at your jaw, his thumb sticking out to softly run over your lower lip. The gesture was so intimate and familiar as he never missed an opportunity to be affectionate, yet it still caused your heart to flutter and breath hitch in your throat momentarily. He always looked at you with eyes full of love and adoration and each time, you were willing to give him everything he desired and more.
Felix hummed, his already deep voice dropping even lower while he continued to maintain eye contact. “Who knew you took mario kart so seriously?”
You couldn’t take it anymore. His touch burned in the most pleasant way, leaving behind blooming flowers as strange as that sounded. That’s how being with Felix felt too. You felt love, passion, lust, comfort, all wrapped up in the pretty package that was him. Being with Felix felt like home.
That’s why, you took advantage of him getting lost in what he was doing to you before suddenly setting your hands on his shoulders in hopes of overpowering him, pushing his body back so you could be the one on top. With each knee on either side, you straddled him before leaning down and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. If Felix was surprised by the turn of events, he didn’t show it, hands finding your hips and resting there while gently caressing the skin.
It felt like fireworks going off on New Year’s when you kissed him, lips fitting together like they were made for each other. The plushness of his lips along with the taste of his tongue, of him – they all drove you insane.
Lee Felix might have been a filthy cheater when it came to any type of game, willing to deceive everyone just to win. But when it came to your relationship – whatever that was – you knew he would never be anything other than truthful.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧
He’s the sweetest when with you. No joke, the others usually complain about how you get special treatment from him because Seugmin is never that nice to them.
Has moments when he gets so gentle and lovey-dovey but as soon as someone points it out, he playfully pushes you away with a bashful smile, cheeks reddening by the second.
Can be a bit inconsiderate of your feelings sometimes.
The room was silent save for the tv that was quietly running in the background, the action movie long forgotten by Seungmin as you captivated all of his attention. His eyes were glued to your sleeping form in his lap, the pillow under your head along with the blanket on top ensuring you were most comfortable. One of his hands would sometimes reach out to fix the blanket while the other would soothe you back to sleep by caressing your head, leaning down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear if some of the guys got too loud. It was very peaceful for him, a serenity he didn’t usually get in his everyday life that only came along with you.
You were special to him, his feelings for you obvious to everyone around except for the person that mattered most. Because of that, he was usually reluctant to act on them but that was starting to get harder and harder each day, especially when you did things like right now. You were the picture of peace, away in dreamland while Seungmin was the complete opposite, a storm picking up inside of his mind.
He was confused. His gaze was filled with nothing but fondness as he once again looked down at you, happiness bubbling up inside of him and threatening to overflow to the surface any second. Yet as he kept staring, he could feel little knives puncturing his poor heart at the reminder that you were nothing more than friends, what you had purely platonic.
“Guys, look at Seungmin being a lovesick puppy.”
Jeongin’s voice came from his right and he immediately turned to the youngest with a glare, one that didn’t seem to do anything as his smile only grew in response. Shaking his head, Seungmin rolled his eyes before his gaze fell back to you, his hand now stroking your soft hair.
“Shh, Innie, don’t disturb our couple.” Hyunjin chimed in with a smirk of his own, quick reflexes helping him dodge the pillow Seungmin threw right at his face. Chan only chuckled under his breath from his place on the other sofa while Minho didn’t even glance up from his phone, absorbed in what was presumably an argument with his partner.
“Will you guys be quiet? Y/n’s sleeping.” His voice remained low yet the hostility in it was clear as day as he turned to look at his two troublemaker friends, glaring. He wasn’t in the mood for any teasing it seemed. “And stop calling us a couple. We aren’t together and we’ll never be so knock it off and let me enjoy the movie.”
The men stopped after that, not wanting to push their luck as they knew how scary Seungmin got when angry. But unknowing to them, you heard the whole thing, your heart falling all the way down to your stomach at his painful, careless words.
What was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon, ended up with you getting your heart broken by none other than Kim Seungmin himself, the guy you’ve been in love with since what felt like two lifetimes ago.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧
Did someone say childhood friends to lovers? Because I did.
You’re very comfortable around each other, knowing all of the other’s secrets and defining life events so when your relationship started to shift, you were none the wiser.
Has always loved you in some way, just isn’t aware of the fact that he’s actually in love with you.
“And you won’t believe what she said next!”
He chuckled, fox eyes following your every move as you continued to pace around in his room. “What did she say?”
Turning to him, you made a face before starting to mock one of your girlfriends. “Well Y/n, maybe if you got a boyfriend, you would understand why we can’t always bend over backwards for you!”
Jeongin gasped, hands moving up to his mouth pretending to be flabbergasted by what you just said, completely entertained by your antics. Being best friends for as long as you two have been, there was nothing unusual with you coming over to catch him up on the latest drama that was happening in your friend group. It was more or less a weekly tradition at this point.
“Can you believe that? She was blaming me for the fact that she was a shitty friend!”
He nodded, agreeing with your every word. “And not only that, but she was also boyfriend shaming you!”
“Exactly!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Do you see the type of people I have to deal with now that you’re not here?”
Those last words made Jeongin’s shoulders fall as it all dawned on him; you were right – he was barely here nowadays, his busy schedule keeping him away from you and all he’s known for the majority of his life. He missed it, going out and goofing around with you and his school friends, having no real responsibilities other than doing some random homework and picking the place you’d hang out at after classes.
He missed you. So much that it physically hurts sometimes.
“Jeongin?”
At the sound of your sweet voice calling his name, he snapped out of it, eyes focusing on your form in front of him once again. Without a word, he then beckoned you closer with a finger and once you were in reach, he pulled you into his arms, a laugh escaping him as you gasped in surprise. Jeongin didn’t usually initiate physical contact so being pulled into an embrace like that, so out of the blue was really confusing for you. Nevertheless, your arms went around his neck while you melted into his hold, his own going around your waist innocently as you were now standing in between his legs.
“How about we make this girl eat her words, hm?” he smiled, looking up at you from his seat on the bed, chin resting just above your stomach.
Raising an eyebrow, your hands moved to comb through his dark locks. “How?”
It seemed that’s what he was waiting for as his smile turned into a smirk, eyes full of mischief at the plan he was silently cooking up.
“Let me be your boyfriend, your trophy man if you will.” Seeing the way your eyes widened and mouth dropped open, he squeezed your sides, shushing you. “I’m not done. I can pretend to be your boyfriend when she’s around, showering you with affection until she turns green with envy and realizes what a shitty friend she’s been. Or, until you drop her.”
Your mouth closed and he could see you contemplate his words, your lips pursed into a small pout. You looked kind of adorable from up close, not that he’d ever admit it.
With a nod, you agreed, your smile returning and lighting up your face for the first time in the hour you’ve been at his house.
“Alright, let’s do this!”
And then, next thing you knew, Jeongin stood up and suddenly, his lips were on yours.
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tagging: @captainchrisstan
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chewingcyanide · 9 months ago
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𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣. 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
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₊⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — secretly pining over someone is never fun—even less so when they’re your childhood best friend, and dating someone else.
₊⊹ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 —all the angst, jealousy, thoughts of inferiority, cursing, big sadness from reader over here, not proofread i got better things to do
₊⊹ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — jack hughes x fem!reader
₊⊹ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — my valentine’s day jhughes special (albeit a day late ☹️), as promised! sorry it took me so long. couldn’t figure out how to end it. this is unapologetically self-indulgent. also not a wip, but i HAD to do it to em. i’m sorry if your name is brooke or bianca. i love you. promise. maybe we’ll make a part two, if yall like it enough!
₊⊹ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — @dancerbailey3, @bellstwd, @kashee-h, @crazycat-ladys-blog, @brucewaynegfreal, @love4dlr, @jackhughesily, @leavethemonsteralive, @loveforaugust, @43hughes, @nathandoe, @choppedlamphandscowboy, @bunting58, @angelayse, @ru-kru, @sleepretreat, @nonsensical-nonsence, @maih23 (if your name is white, i couldn’t tag you!)
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Everyone knows the saying you never know what you have until you lose it. Truth was, you knew exactly what you had—you’d just never imagined you’d lose it.
You never imagined you’d lose him.
A shared childhood and mothers’ who found friendship with each other had brought you and Jack Hughes together, kept you glued even as skin stretched and futures diverged—where he’d gone on to be a star hockey player, you’d quietly came into adulthood, trekking through the difficulties of college.
In your younger years, Jack had always been there. Life of the party, a mirrorball everyone gravitated to for its decadent shine—you, contrastingly, felt like a sore thumb at parties, attending them only to see the smile on Jack’s face. Differing personalities and life routes aside, Jack was your person. The first person you called whenever you were sad, or happy, or bored. The one who knew all of your test scores first, who took hours long flights just to visit you during breaks in the season.
Distance nor time had left a lasting mark on your friendship, kept together by constant phone calls and texts. Whilst you remained imbedded in the hustle of Toronto, Jack was trapped in New Jersey—a gap that you closed every summer, when mutual desire to see one another (as well as his brothers) brought you and him to Michigan for a few months.
From childhood, to high school, to now—it had always been you two. Jokes passed in the years, swirling around with assumptions of the two of you ending up together, finally realizing it after years of proclaimed friendship. For Jack, it’d never been romantic. Loving and caring, a relationship he’d never trade for the world, but the intimacy ended there. Memories of him outwardly flirting with girls in front of you at bars or parties flashed in your mind any time you figured maybe; he’d never given any indicator that you were or would ever be more to him than his best friend.
For you? It was an embarrassingly different story.
College had stolen much of your time—left none for a love life. But truthfully, that didn’t much phase you.
Hookups, flings, boyfriends—all of them paled in comparison to Jack. A childhood crush perpetuated by maturation without loss of contact, Jack had just… always been there. Always a best friend, never a lover; the hanging axe of rejection was too dire a outcome for you to ever consider telling him. Killing a friendship you’d grown with would kill you. And maybe he felt the same way, maybe the kisses he reserved for the crown of your head and the guiding hand he kept on the small of your back meant something, but you couldn’t continue existing if they didn’t.
So, a dutiful friend, you kept quiet, spared the connection and suffered in unrequited love.
And it hadn’t really changed until Jack had gotten a girlfriend. In all your years of knowing him, he’d had a few—though they rarely lasted more than a handful of months, and a selfish and bitter part of you liked that. Sometimes they overstepped, viewed themselves above you in the ranking of Jack’s life; he made painfully clear they never would be.
And it felt good, to be that cherished. But then you remembered he didn’t actually love you and it felt a whole lot less impactful.
Not Brooke.
Brooke, a box-dye blonde with a less-than-stellar reaction to your friendship with her boyfriend, was unarguably beautiful—unapproachably so, someone you’d picture whenever thinking of the girl Jack would end up with. You knew it would never be you, but you hated that it was her, hated that it was finally cemented, the coffin wheeled out.
A friendship you’d cherished for years had been weathered down by the abrasive actions of his girlfriend. It left a bitter taste in your mouth; Jack never seemed privy to Brooke’s nonverbal dislike of you, and you never made comment of it. If Jack was happy, what did it matter? If you said anything, all you’d appear to be was a child throwing a tantrum, the attention torn from them. You refused to jeopardize Jack’s happiness, even if it meant shredding your own.
Brooke tolerated you; that was the best word you could think of. There was surely no excess of love, but you didn’t think she flat out despised you, either. Passive aggressive to the point of just being aggressive, snide looks whenever she didn’t think you could see, intentionally separating you from Jack whenever the two of you were talking—it all made you hate being around her, and by extension, him.
So when he’d invited you to dinner with him—and some of his teammates, a monthly ritual at his house—the knee jerk reaction had been to decline, lie, run while you were still free from the piercing glare of Brooke; because you knew she’d be there, clung to his side, as if you had any intention of taking him away.
… Well, you’d did have the intention. Never the will, so then again maybe she was right to hate you. Feelings you’d never act on, words you’d never say—none of it mattered. She had him. Not you. Never you.
You should’ve said no.
Pouting eyes and pleading lips caved you. As soon as you’d agreed, you’d regretted it—knew in your bones it would only serve to wedge the knife in your heart deeper, solidify the loss of a what you thought would be a lifelong partnership. Your platonic soulmate, twin flame pinched out by hateful fingers.
Getting ready for the dinner felt like preparing for a cage fight, where all night you’d have do endure blow after blow—them kissing, them touching, him loving her in a way you wished he’d love you.
Night blanketed the sky by the time you’d arrived to Jack’s home, shadows slipping by the window, shapes of people telling you that you were likely late—the stone in your stomach had slowed you monumentally. The torture was self-inflicted, you knew. There would be no pity when your heart finally gave out.
She did this to herself, they’d say. Hearts can only endure so much before they break.
Voices coalesced into one as you pushed open the door, welcomed by the familiar atmosphere of friendship and loud laughter. You’d completely forgotten to text Jack that you’d gotten here—and for some reason, as you crossed the threshold into the gaping space of his living room, you felt like an outsider. Sudden eyes landed on you like bullets, and all you saw was Jack—his side taken dutifully by Brooke, always beautiful, striking in a way you didn’t think you’d ever been.
Looking at her, it made sense why she was the one Jack chose. Why you hadn’t been. A best friend. Childhood acquaintance. Faded t-shirt he’d strung along for too many years, even as the design weathered away and the fabric weakened. He’d gotten a shiny new one, the novelty still in tact, yet he hadn’t let you go.
Some part of you, deep in the caves of your wounded heart, wished Brooke would ban him from your presence. Maybe then your hurt would lessen. You knew you’d never be able to let go on your own.
Jack’s eyes caught you, stood awkwardly in the mouth of the hallway. He attempted to stand, only for Brooke to tug him down by his t-shirt—the shirt you’d bought him for his birthday last year, impressed with two hearts holding hands. She said something to him, something low and hissed between clenched teeth. Before you could see his reaction, Nico was invading your space, arms winding around you.
“There she is!” he announced, the ground leaving your feet as he lifted you playfully. “We were waiting on you to eat. Sure do like to take your time.”
Residual bitterness faded at Nico’s words—Jack may have been your best friend, but years of being attached to him introduced you to his teammates; they were always kind, if a little overbearing. A big brother that toed the line of overprotective and well-wishing.
Grateful for the attention distractor, you allowed your shoulders to relax and lungs to decompress. The first cut at seeing Jack, still happily in love with Brooke, was already dealt; you just needed to get through the dinner, and not look like a hostage while doing so.
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, shoving Nico’s shoulder as he brought you towards where the others were gathered in the living room. “Make fun of me for driving like a grandma all you want, at least I’m safe.”
Not looking at Jack took more self control than you’d care to admit. Blurring in your peripheral, a mess of colors stacked atop one another, you knew if you glanced—saw the claim Brooke was staking for all to see—it would only make you want to leave. So you didn’t.
Luke was next to greet you, offering a pity-imbued smile. Despite never mentioning your affections for his older brother, you knew he knew; saw it in the way he would look at you, the frowns offered. In times when Brooke inadvertently talked you down, it was Luke who told her off, put balm on the wound.
A side hug and a soft smile—you barely were able to muster one yourself. “How have classes been?”
You graced Luke with an exasperated groan. “Terrible, thanks for reminding me. Economics is kicking my ass.”
Luke sat. You remained standing. A loose thread peeking from your sweatshirt seemed far more intriguing than eyes you were trying desperately not to meet.
“Tough luck,” remarked Luke, conversations reviving after the novelty of your arrival wore off. You recognized a couple of faces around you—Dawson, Jesper, Alexander, and John. Faces you’d become acquainted with in your years of being Jack’s friend.
The title felt a bitter reminder of your ceiling, never surpassing Jack’s best friend. Loved and cherished, a desired presence, just not how you wanted. Who were you to complain? It was better to be his friend than nothing at all; to have a little piece of him, proof that at one point, you’d mattered enough to get it.
You just weren’t sure if you did anymore.
Where once Jack’s name was a regular occurrence, flashing on your phone screen—texts, calls, FaceTimes, they all faded once Brooke came into his life. Movie nights on his couch, reruns of old films that you could quote down to the last line, stopped. You knew Jack cared enough to extend invites, but at this point, you figured it was more out of pity and shame than actual want of your company.
Beggars really couldn’t be choosers.
Eventually, everyone made their way into the dining room. Chairs lined a large wooden table, one chosen and haphazardly assembled by you and Jack when he’d first bought this house. Scratches imbedded in the finish sent flashes of dropped hammers and clumsy feet into your mind, memories that felt too far to touch.
Mind far afield, you sat down—somewhere between Luke and Nico, far enough from Jack to be inconspicuous but close enough to feel the sharp burn of his eyes. It was petty, you knew, to have still not greeted him. Not that Brooke would’ve likely even let you. A sadistic part of you wanted him to feel even a modicum of the agony that rattled you whenever you were forced to watch him and Brooke, wanted to wonder and question why you were so cold.
Then again, maybe he didn’t care.
Body detached from your mind, the last thing you expected was to be spoken to—least of all by Brooke. But there her grating voice was, verging on overuse, but you knew that was just how she talked. Chafing and annoying and awful—
“Still no boyfriend?” A venomous smile curled her lips; friendly to the untrained eye. You knew better.
Your fingers twitched. The food in front of you spoiled, appetite evaporated. Of course she asked that—both a jab and a reassurance; if you had a boyfriend, her relationship with Jack would be safe. Not that it wasn’t, regardless.
You wished you could scream at her, leap across the table and force her to hear your words: you’d never have Jack. Want him, yes. Spend years pining over a boy who looked to you like the sister he never had, absolutely. But actually have him, feel his love in every touch and kiss? No. That wasn’t on the cards for you; you’d folded long ago.
“Nope,” you drawled. The pressure of Jack’s stare caved you—you caught his eyes, eyebrows creased, the wrinkle of his forehead that made itself prominent whenever he was annoyed.
What did he possibly have to be annoyed about?
Catching Luke’s gaze only irked you further, alit the urge to push out of your chair and flee Jack’s home. Pity swelled in his eyes, the beginnings of a frown quirking down his lips. You didn’t want pity; didn’t want to feel like the entire world was in on some inside joke you’d never understand. Everyone saw it, your love for Jack. Saw the lovestruck comedy that was your life—girl loves boy, boy isn’t even aware of it, hilarity ensues.
Everyone but Jack. And honestly, that was for the best.
You didn’t think you’d be able to handle the frown when he found out. Jack Hughes, always kind, never malignant, searching for a way to politely turn down his best friend without taking an axe to the connection. Really, there would be no bloodless way to let it die—so you lived in moments between, where nothing felt impactful or important or real.
When Jack was without Brooke, you could almost imagine he was your Jack—the one who turned down every girl so that he’d be free to go to prom with you, the one who got banned from a restaurant for life for pouring a drink over your cheating ex-boyfriend’s head. The Jack who always protected you, always cared, even when all of his friends couldn’t understand it.
That Jack who currently hand his arm around the back of Brooke’s chair, shoulders touching—a casual thing, something you’d done with countless strangers, yet it felt impactful enough to make bile swim in your throat.
“Probably for the best,” Luke interjected after the conversation—if it even was that—between you and Brooke came to an awkward stalemate. “Guys are dicks.”
A tension somehow always existed whenever you were in a room with Brooke. One you never wanted, never fed into. Like a shadow, the morning mist, it hung thick as smog. Choking you, nearly forcing you from the room.
“You’re a guy,” you laughed weakly, offering Luke a pointed look.
“No one at college, then?” Nico piped up. You felt bad for not looking at him, but he was too close to Jack and Brooke—you didn’t want to see them.
Cozy, warm in a way you thought only you’d ever be with Jack. Familiar, united. Their relationship didn’t seem as superficial as his past ones had, woven together under the pretense of good sex and no real connection. Watching Jack love his new, perfect girlfriend made you physically ill; and maybe that was dramatic, maybe it made you a backwards person with failing morals—you couldn’t care anymore.
Years of hiding your love, months of watching his own be poured into a girl that wanted you out of his life—it wore you down to your bones, dangerously close to burning to ash.
“Most of them are… strange, to say the least,” you responded with a wince. And that was true; your major seemed to just attract men whose one quality was making women uncomfortable. “Plus, having a boyfriend would just distract me. Finals are coming up and I’m already worried about how I’m going to do on them.”
Luke scoffed. “Hookups exist.”
A wince followed Luke’s words. Eyes fell to where Jessica was rubbing her hand—Jack apologized, albeit half-heartedly. Confusion overcame you; had he squeezed her hand too tightly?
In the past, you’d had boyfriends. Not that they lasted very long. Somehow, there was always something wrong with them—something only Jack could see; he’d endlessly nitpick, nag, explain why your newest boyfriend wasn’t good enough for you.
They were too old, too uptight, not nice enough. Always something. And without fail, Jack was right—scarcely did they make it past the first date before some measly excuse fell from their lips. But maybe it wasn’t them; maybe it was you. So, with an aching heart refusing to connect with any other but Jack’s, you gave up. Delved headfirst into college work and stayed below the waves, even as they began to drown you.
All you offered in response to Luke was a shrug.
Conversation picked up then, thankfully fell away from you. Limelight sufficiently dimmed, you allowed yourself to watch Jack; a habit you’d never quite shaken, even in the embarrassing moments when he caught your peering gaze.
You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen in love with Jack—just that you had, and now you couldn’t touch the bottom of him. Water filled your lungs, suffocated you, but if drowning meant being near him, you’d happily do it. Dying in his platonic embrace seemed better than dying all alone.
Ruffled brown hair, the sort of charm that every boy-next-door seemed to possess, and clear blue eyes that shone every emotion like a transparent window to his soul—all of it made Jack Jack, the boy you loved, would admire even in moments he didn’t think he deserved reverence.
You’d seen it all: the self-deprecation after his failure of a rookie year, dwindling confidence, tears imbued with hurt and disappointment, frustration of someone who knew they were better. It was you who’d been by his side, proved an anchor to a person you couldn’t live without.
Yet he’d still chosen Brooke.
For most people, that would be the last step off the cliff, boneless body breaking against the canyon. Not you—so full of hope and dreams, undeterred by every sign the universe gave you. You weren’t his only, but at least you were one.
Jack’s lips parted into a smile, one you could tell was real—his kissed Brooke’s temple, pinched her on the side. An intimate moment in a crowded room. You felt almost as if you were trespassing, a stranger watching two people in love. Part of you didn’t even associate that boy as Jack, because you couldn’t understand how he could love someone so averse to you, so… mean. But then again, it wasn’t about you.
It was about him. Accommodations had been made for years—leaving parties early because you were uncomfortable, blowing off his guy friends to comfort you after a bad date, scrapping his wants and his plans because of something to do with you.
He was probably sick of it. Sick of you, dictating what he could and couldn’t do. Who he could and couldn’t date. Because who cared if Brooke hated you; Jack loved her, despite it all. And that was what made dread swirl into a storm in your heart, ribs nearly cracking under the rate it was thundering at.
Abruptly, you stood. Felt the chair nearly topple. Eyes came to you—Jack’s friends. Yours, yes, but Jack’s foremost. You were just intruding, butting into a life that no longer fit you. Time had passed, the wishful minds of children grown into adulthood. He didn’t owe you anything anymore, especially when all you were was a storm cloud over his parade.
Just as soon as you had, Jack stood, concern clear in his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Your tongue felt like lead. “Nothing—nothing, sorry. I’m—I need to use the restroom.”
You didn’t wait much longer before leaving the room.
Air felt scarce, lungs punctured and deflating quicker than you could patch the holes. Clumsily, you pushed open the door to the bathroom, steadied your shaking hands on the edge of the sink. Looking at yourself, reflection marred by the onset of tears, all you could do was compare—compare to Brooke, to every girl Jack had ever wanted, ever liked, ever loved.
Was it their features, doughy lips that worshipped him in a way you didn’t? Was it their bodies, womanly and free in a way you didn’t like to be? Or was it deeper, were their souls crafted from the same light, in a way you’d always thought your own had been with Jack’s?
Idiot, fool, dreamer—you were all of it. Like a lap dog, bird in its teeth, you always returned, remained dutifully at Jack’s side for the moment he might open the screen door and finally let you in.
Brooke had every right to hate you. Perceptive in a way Jack wasn’t, she saw what everyone else did—the lovesick eyes, foolish faith chaining you to him, an unrealized desire that would never be acted on. Had you been in Brooke’s place, you would’ve hated yourself as well.
Water poured from the faucet, gathered in your cupped palms. Attempting to desecrate any evidence of tears, you gently splashed the water in your face—went to dry it when you heard the sound of the front door creaking open.
“Oh, thank God you’re here, Bee.”
Cold crept up your spine. Eavesdropping was wrong—you knew that, yet still found yourself leaning against the bathroom door to catch Brooke’s words.
“What’s going on?” came the response, likely the voice of Bianca, Brooke’s best friend. You’d met her once at a game (met was a loose word; she’d given you a snide look and taken to ignoring you the entire time).
Brooke’s voice lowered to the point where you were forced to strain to hear her speak. “You know Jack’s little pet?”
A lapse. Your heart seized, taken by some concoction of shame and surprise.
“No.”
“Yes!” responded Brooke. “She’s fucking everywhere. I asked Jack not to invite her tonight, and lo and behold—”
“Wait, I thought you talked to Jack?”
“I did.” Vexation laced every letter. “I told him it made me uncomfortable how close they were, how she was always around, blah blah. He got defensive, but he said he’d talk to her.”
“Clearly not,” Bianca muttered. “Look, I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re childhood friends, yeah? He probably feels like he has to stay her friend, or something. I mean, Jack’s a good guy, he wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone; if he dropped her, he’d look like a douche. I’m sure she’ll get the hint eventually.”
Footsteps began, voices fading along with them. “I fucking hope. It’s honestly pathetic.”
Blood roared in your ears, drowned out the sound of your beating heart—if it was even beating anymore. Something bitter and hot invaded your airways, lashed like whips against your flesh. It was no secret Brooke disliked you, disliked the closeness of you and Jack, but to hear it, the vicious way it fell from her lips—it made your gut twist and constrict, pushing bile towards your throat.
Pathetic. They thought you were pathetic, hopelessly waiting, like a dead plant praying for flowers that would never come. Lovelorn, seeking affection that only came by way of friendship and never more; they were right, and it became evident with a strike of lightning to your body.
Is that truly how Jack felt? Was he waiting for you to give up, so to spare you the hurt of being let down? Had you become baggage? Chained to him, the memory of childhood the only thing keeping you relevant, when times were less impactful and his life didn’t center around being a professional athlete. The stain of youth, remaining only for its joyful memory; that’s all you were now—a memory.
Just like your love, it seemed everyone saw Jack’s hints but you. Rose-colored lenses blurred everything but what you wished to see; of course you missed them, ignored them so your narrative remained intact.
God, you were an idiot. A fucking idiot.
Head pounding, the squeeze of an oncoming migraine rattling your brain, you opened the bathroom door. Felt like a trapped bird all the way back to the table—you just had to get through dinner, only an hour or two, so as to not raise any suspicion, and then you could fade from Jack’s life.
Not that he’d notice. He hadn’t even spoken to you tonight, though no fault of his own; Brooke kept her claws deep, and it was clear he didn’t want to risk an argument. Not that you could blame him—she was his girlfriend. Her. Not you. He didn’t owe you anything.
Conversations filled your ears, ostracized you—every time you had opened your mouth before, it had felt wrong, the scratch on a vinyl everyone skipped over. You saw him first—noticeably tense, chair a bit further away from Brooke that it had been earlier. Tensed forehead, hands balled on the table; you longed to ask what was wrong, as you were used to doing. But you imagined talking to him, and it somehow felt wrong, a peasant addressing a king.
Then, your eyes fell to your seat.
No longer empty, occupied now by Bianca, who was talking casually with Brooke, as if her actions hadn’t changed your entire perception of the situation. There were no more seats. No more room. The metaphor wasn’t lost on you, hit with the same sting of antiseptic on a wound—there wasn’t any more room for you at the table, just as there was no room for you in Jack’s life.
Maybe this was always meant to happen. Childhood didn’t remain forever, and it seemed, neither was your friendship. You’d always wondered why Jack had chosen you, someone so dissimilar to himself and his friends. Eventually, you made peace with it. His friendship was a balm to everything negative. Now… here you were again, more ostracized than ever.
What were you supposed to do? The long haul wasn’t meant to have an end.
Everyone was looking at you now. Stage fright, you lost your speech, thousands of eyes from a crowd looking at you, spotlight centered on your face, and you couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t—
Blue eyes found you, stood stonily at the entrance of the dining room. Jack’s eyebrows knitted, confused as to why you were still stood. When he saw Bianca, his lip curled. Frustration sparked, bemusement painted over. Once more that protective streak flared, something you were so used to—it had once felt the greatest trophy, proof that the Jack Hughes cared enough to stand up for you. It felt a sore consolation now, a reminder that, as always, you’d be the meek girl from his childhood he was forced to drag along, defend, shield from his new life that he fit into perfectly, that you spilled out from.
“Get up.”
Then, the attention went to him.
Brooke glanced at her boyfriend, annoyance flashing on her face. Their conversation paused. “What?”
Jack nodded towards Bianca. “She took her seat,” he explained in a clipped voice. “Get up.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Jack, it’s not a big—”
“It is,” he interrupted. Tension sparked in the air like a misfired firework. “She needs to sit and Bianca took her place, so—”
“It’s fine!” The words spilled out before you could second guess them. They came out raw and pained and everything you didn’t want to appear as; pity pooled from everyone, that sort of second-hand pity you saw on strangers faces when you’d lose your footing and fall.
It was too much. Pins dug into your skin, all of a sudden too tight. You needed to leave. Now, before your bones crumbled and heart gave out and finally everything burst.
“I—um, I should probably get going, anyway,” you said, nodding as if trying to be convincing. “With finals comin’ up I should get in as much studying as I can.”
Determination was something you’d always admired about Jack; it only irked you now. He stood, shrugged off Brooke’s outstretched hand and came to stand before you, and God—it was a disservice to not admire him, even as annoyance creased his eyes and drew inwards his lips. Beauty, in such a raw form, it startled you. Growing up, he’d always been the center of everyones attention. The hockey prodigy, the first overall draft pick, the franchise player for the Devils.
You? You’d been nothing special. Yet he’d still chosen you. And here he was, apparently doing it again—but why? Why when he had a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life and fun friends did he always come back, when clearly you were no more than a burden?
You tried not to seem spiteful. You did. But it was so hard to hide your wounds and ignore their pain. He may not have seen them, but they were unfortunately still there. And it seemed they always would be.
“You can’t,” he said, searched your gaze—he’d always been able to see straight through you, with such simplicity it frightened you. You tried to shuttered your expression, hide your pain. It wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. “Dinner’s just started—”
“Really, J, it’s fine.” Heat bored into your face where you knew Brooke was staring, daring you to express any deeper connection with Jack past the sheltered friendliness you were currently forcing.
You weren’t going to budge. Jack saw that, and so he sighed and glanced out the window. “I’ll drive you home.”
Oh, God. Nothing was ever easy. Pushing and pushing and pushing until you weren’t sure you even wanted to get up anymore, to even try. Every time you did, right back down you went, encapsulated by everything Jack.
Freedom felt a forgotten thing. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t love Jack, when he wasn’t at the forefront of your mind, main star of the play.
And honestly, you were tired. Tired of wishing for something that would never happen. Tired of being viewed as the shackle around Jack’s wrist. Just tired.
“No need,” you muttered noncommittally, saw the way Jack’s face twisted with concern and confusion and everything you didn’t want to see. “It’s your dinner, J. With my grandma driving, I’ll get home safe.”
The attempt at a joke didn’t land. Smile didn’t even begin to twitch his lips. “It’s dark outside,” he stated, an obvious fact that held no weight for anyone but you and him. “I always drive you when it’s dark.”
That was true enough; your inability to see properly at night meant Jack became your chauffeur, not that he ever complained—even still, it was another thing he did for you, time sacrificed to accommodate you. Prepared to leave his own dinner, his own girlfriend, just to make sure you didn’t have to do something you were uncomfortable with. Conceptually, it was sweet, a sort of gesture that would’ve normally made your heart soar. Now? It made you feel like a burden, an incapable little girl still hiding in the shadow of her protector, afraid of the sting of daylight.
No more.
“I’m going to be fine,” you reassured. Jack didn’t appear convinced—he never was satisfied when it came to you, to your safety, unless he was directly involved. “Stay and have fun.”
“What if—”
“Let her go, babe.”
Brooke’s voice proved the nail in the coffin; a part of you heard the undertone of excitement shot through her words, the possibility of your leave alleviating any annoyance your presence had brought. Without you, Jack’s attention would be fully on her. Without you, he wouldn’t have to concern himself on whether you were having fun and if you were okay.
You. You. You.
You’d considered yourself Jack’s anchor, the grounding of his mind—unfortunately, you’d forgotten an anchor also keeps a thing in place, forcing inactivity.
Let her go.
It rang like a death knell, struck sharp as a poisoned dart, invisible but so unmistakably fatal.
Gathering what remained of your dignity, you grabbed your purse off of your—Bianca’s—chair, caught the commiseration shining in Luke’s eyes like a tarnished trophy. It only stung, reminded you that you needed pity.
Before you could flee the room like a scolded dog, Jack caught your wrist. Heat bloomed, a fever rushing to your head—his simple touch made you sick with want and need and something deeper that would never be realized or fostered. Something you had to let die.
“Text me when you’re home,” he said softly. Fingers gently squeezed your wrist. Where once you’d feel comforted, you just felt trapped. “Please.”
Not trusting your words, all you did was nod.
Honestly, you’d expected some dark cloud to cover you when finally you decided to move on. A procession of funeral goers flocking like crows, unable to understand why you’d abandoned a years-long friendship over something insignificant. Over words spewed from hateful lips.
But it wasn’t what you’d overheard. Deeper, a more sharp knowledge that even if Jack loved you, held you closer than anyone in his circle of friends, he’d never want you in the way you desired. And for a while, that was okay. Because he existed separate of everything—and then came Brooke, and it all crumbled.
You could handle him not loving you. You couldn’t, however, handle him loving someone else so openly.
Street lights blurred behind tears, a mess of streaky lights like a watercolor canvas. Flashes of nights when Jack would drive you home, insisting on taking the wheel so that you didn’t have to toe out of your comfort zone, they haunted you like a inescapable film reel on repeat in your mind. Memories fogged by lost youth, angry words from Jack’s lips as he’d stand up for you—never a party person, denounced for draining the fun. Jack never let those insults slip lip before he was barking at whoever said it.
A responsibility. A burden. The lines had become blurred in recent years.
The latter seemed more fitting.
Through a barrier of tears, you were able to send Jack a text as your car rolled to a stop in the parking lot.
me
at my dorm
j :)
ok good. u ok? u seemed off @ dinner
Fingers hovered over your screen. Make movements to draft a text. Nothing seemed sufficient.
You let the text stale. Sit stagnant on your phone. Jack would likely worry, eventually call—you just wanted to fall into a void and never return. Not after the mess you’d made of dinner.
The mess you’d made of your life.
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Making a ghost of yourself was far more difficult than you’d thought it would be.
Incessantly, Jack had texted you, called you—you didn’t answer any of them. Silence felt a balm to your shame. Selfish, you knew, to just ghost Jack without offering any explanation, but nothing would be sufficient, not without souring the connection you were hoping would die without pain.
Cowardice, craven, pathetic—you knew you were all of it. To you, you were giving Jack a chance to pull back, to fizzle the friendship of his own accord. Maybe then it would’ve stung less, if the desire of its end was reciprocated, mutual. As it were, it was not.
Even with your withdrawal, Jack still tried. Shot texts, called and punctuated them with voicemails, sent you TikToks and Snaps and everything he would normally do if everything was fine; but it wasn’t. And you knew he knew, could sense the urgency in his attempts at communication.
You felt dirty, filthy with shame and guilt.
Despite your best efforts, you didn’t appear as unaffected as you hoped. While your insides were shredding themselves, you tried valiantly to paint over your visage with the normal happy-go-lucky smile you always wore. Most people, if they noticed, didn’t comment on it.
Unfortunately, Kaylen did notice.
Since your freshman year of college, Kaylen had been your roommate—low maintenance, intelligent to the point of making you stupid without even trying. As such, she was far more perceptive than you gave her credit for.
There’d been times you confided in her about your feeling for Jack, sought out advice that never seemed good enough. Because no one but yourself could fix the valley that had split between Jack and you. You could seek outward help all you wanted, but nothing would change unless you did something—and, really, you weren’t sure that was even a good idea anymore.
Two days of moping resulted in Kaylen’s intervention.
“Get up.”
Sunlight bled through your shut eyes, forced a wince. Hands rolled you onto your back, the somewhat stiff mattress of your bed providing a measly cushion. Sleep intruded on, your hands extended, attempted to push away the figure you knew what trying to rile you.
“Go away,” you grunted, throat thickened by sleep and other terrible emotions.
“No,” Kaylen hissed. When finally you opened your eyes, her squinted expression invaded your vision. “Look, I’ve let you be miserable for two days, but it’s getting ridiculous. What the hell happened with you and loverboy?”
A jolt nearly paused your heart mid-beat. Thinking about Jack stung in a way you didn’t like to admit, mainly due to the fact that it was painfully embarrassing that he had such a control over you.
“Don’t call him that,” you muttered, bit your tongue to stop anything else from spilling out.
Kaylen’s eyebrows quirked. “So it is about him?”
Nails scraped your lungs. “No—yes—fuck,” you moaned, sitting up and balancing your forehead on bent knees. “It’s… all fucked up, K. I don’t know what to do.”
A sigh left her lips. You felt the bed dip as she climbed beside you. “I can help if you tell me.”
And so you did, started at the beginning of dinner to the end, as you left like a dog defeating in a cage match, heart crying blood. Comforting circles were rubbed into your thigh, but all they did was remind you how Jack used to trace shapes onto your leg, or arm, or back—how he touched you, just to know you were there, with him. He said it placated him.
It was shameful, how bile teased your throat even imagining it.
Rationally, you knew everything was your doing. Loving Jack, torturing yourself by being in his presence whilst he focused his attention on his girlfriend. Expecting any semblance of affection or intimacy even as another held his heart, branded her name over your own. It was always going to happen—knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.
When finally you finished, the conclusion of your mournful, self-pitying tale followed by the sting of unwanted tears, Kaylen’s thoughtful silence waned. Her lips pursed, fingers twitching. You expected her to berate you; what had you expected, stupid girl? He has a girlfriend!
Instead, Kaylen hugged you. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” she murmured, pulled back with that pitiful smile you’d seen one too many times—one you’d be fine with if you never saw again. “He cares about you—”
“Not how I care about him, though,” you finished, and Kaylen gave a weak nod.
“I mean, if you told him what Brooke and her little bitch of a friend said, I’m sure he’d leave her. He’s done more for less.” That much was true. Regardless of whose lips it came from, Jack didn’t tolerate disrespect towards you—cut long time friends off for assuming they had any authority to speak poorly of you.
And you knew—knew with the same certainty that you knew your own name—that Jack would break up with Brooke if he knew how she’d spoken of you.
That should’ve made you giddy. Bursted bright light in your chest at the prospect of having Jack to yourself once more. Instead, it made you feel heavy, sand packed into your bones. Who were you to invade his happiness? If he’d chosen Brooke, so be it.
Sure, she’d disparaged you, but Jack’s life wasn’t yours to dictate anymore. If he wanted Brooke, he’d have her, until he decided to leave—not because you decided for him.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Eyelids heavy, the residue of late-night tears remaining on the skin, you felt the fight leave you. Kaylen frowned. “I just want it all to be over.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Seriously? You’re giving up on an eight year friendship because of something some dickface said about you? I thought Jack meant more to you than that.”
Kaylen’s words stung. Made you defensive, because she was right—you were giving up and you did care about Jack, but the pain had become too much. “It’s not—it’s harder to explain than that. He’s outgrown me, K. Everyone can see it but him. I’m an obligation, a burden, and yeah, maybe he loves me as a friend and maybe he wants me around, but his friends never have—his fucking girlfriend doesn’t. And at this point, I just want it to end, I want him to be happy without the conditions of making me happy.”
Silence followed. Contemplation showed clear on Kaylen’s face. You could tell, even without her words, that she didn’t agree—but, she didn’t comment on that. Rather, she placed a hand on your leg and squeezed.
Just like Jack always did.
“It’s your life, babe,” she conceded. “And if you want to do this, I’m not going to stop you—but you have to be content with it.” She gestured to you, the nest of blankets and red-rimmed eyes. “Because this? This isn’t happiness over a good choice. You’re miserable without him, and it’s been barely two days. Think about what you’re doing before it’s irreversible.”
With that, Kaylen got up and went to her own bed, and neither of you made comment of it for the rest of the day.
Her words came again and again like a fractured turntable. Of course you were miserable—Jack had been a constant in your life for eight years, consistently preserving your peace, including you when you’d never felt more like an outsider. Happiness was synonymous with Jack, his smile, his presence, him.
Did you regret your decision? Yes, and no. You regretted the way you’d gone about it. The petty silence, ignoring a person who’d made your younger years bearable. Your friendship deserved a better death than that, a reason rather than just… fading from existence, as if it never mattered in the first place.
That wasn’t the message you wanted conveyed, and so with fingers unsteadied by aftershocks, you texted Jack.
You weren’t sure how you’d explain, if you could tiptoe around the actual reason. Maybe you couldn’t, and maybe that was okay.
me
i’m so sorry for everything. i’ll explain in person. can we meet up?
Your response came half a second later. As if he were waiting. That selfish part of you prayed he had been.
j :)
ofc. my place tn?
me
yeah. that’s good. brooke won’t be upset?
Asking after her made you want to puke, but you knew it was necessary—she didn’t like Jack even breathing near you, having an entire sit down conversation with him was certainly out of the question.
Thrice, the little text bubble appeared and disappeared on your phone screen. You could sense the apprehension without any background knowledge.
j :)
not a problem. we broke up.
It was shameful, the backwards type of pleasure that brought you.
Maybe you were a terrible person. A terrible friend. You tried to reason that it wasn’t wrong to love someone, to wish they were yours.
me
shit j. i’m sorry
j :)
i’m not. i’ll see u tn. 7:30 work? have dinner w the guys.
me
yeah, that’s fine. see you soon, j.
j :)
be safe. i’ll text you when i’m home.
The hard part wasn’t even over, and your heart was already breaking in two.
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Sweat beaded at your palms, the cold claws of apprehension raking down your spine. Countless times you’d been stood here, facing the lifeless beige of Jack’s apartment door. This time, however, you stood here knowing it was the last time. A silent farewell to familiarity, the ties finally cut. Jack would fight, you would cry, and maybe he’d be able to change your mind—it seemed such an unlikely outcome that it calcified every inhale in your throat.
Shaking hands rapped the wooden door, where behind would come the execution of a friendship you’d held like a crutch for years upon years. Your childhood had died, and maybe it would’ve been better had it been left there as well, so as to spare you this heart-rending pain.
Even still, you wouldn’t have traded those years for the world—everything they taught you, through pain and happiness. It made you who you were, brought you to his doorstep with melancholy eyes and a failing heart.
Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door, urgent in a way that picked up your heart rate. The next moments you imagined with brutal clarity—Jack’s hopeful gaze, blue in a way no one else’s ever had been, the soft slope of his nose you teased him for, scrunched whenever he was particularly concerned. How he’d usher you in, hear your words, plead for a moment to explain, and then admit his love for you.
That was how you dreamt it. Unsurprisingly, it was not how it went.
Instead of the door opening to reveal the man you’d love for a lifetime, the squealing hinges were followed by a face that nearly knocked you backwards. Previous indifference smeared into flat-out disdain as Brooke’s eyes caught your figure, engulfed in one of Jack’s faded hoodies and likely disheveled in a way she’d never experienced herself.
Arrows punctured your lungs, sole your breath and defaulted your barely beating heart. Brooke was here. At Jack’s apartment. After they’d supposedly broken up. Had he lied? Was he tricking you, making you the fool? He never would, you knew that, but your wounded mind spun falsities to perpetuate your pain, as if punishment for trusting him in the first place.
“What do you want?” Brooke grunted, leant against the doorframe. Lips twitched into a smirk, the smile of the victorious.
You’d never considered yourself a violent person, but the urge to punch her in the teeth itched your fists. “Is Jack here?”
Her face fell. Something dark flashed in her face—she hesitated a moment, tossed a look over her shoulder. “Yes.”
The curt response was better than nothing, you supposed. “Right, well, can you tell—”
Brooke ran a hand through her hair. Adjusted the clasp of her necklace. “We were kind of in the middle of something. Come back later?”
The axe struck down.
Gravel filled your throat. Suffocated you. If Brooke knew the affect of her words, for once it didn’t show on her face. Years of life had taught you many things, drug you through agonies you wouldn’t relive for anything, yet somehow, this was the worst pain.
To be betrayed, trust snapped by a single action, it stung. Wormed venom in your veins and contaminated your bloodstream, poisoning your heart. Realistically, Jack hadn’t actually done anything wrong. He was allowed to hook up with other girls, to love them—he had, for years.
That wasn’t the issue.
No, it was the fact that he’d set a time, invited you over, and somehow forgot? Or had he set it all up, just to rub it in your face, get his lick-back for your prolonged silence towards him? Either way, it hurt, hurt like a bitch.
Made stone, all you did for a moment was blink at Brooke before a voice called from the background, “Who is it?”
Jack.
Fright found you then, broke away your shell of stone. You couldn’t let him see you, the dog wishing once more to come in from the cold. If he’d planned it, and saw you, he knew he’d won. If he hadn’t planned it, then he realized that—irrecoverably—he fucked up. Both choices felt like a criminal trial you didn’t want any part of.
“I—um—have a good night,” you rushed out, feet stumbling over themselves as you practically ran away from Jack’s door.
So much for closure.
So much for being broken up.
Maybe this was your sign. The one you needed to finally pull away.
Because Jack Hughes didn’t love you. Not past platonic soulmates—a relationship stained with past memories, ones that made both of you incapable of letting go, even as you outgrew it.
You were done being second best. Done trying to squeeze into a place you didn’t fit anymore.
If Brooke was Jack’s choice, so be it. You didn’t want any part of it anymore.
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nanamistiee · 10 months ago
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loverboy. // megumi fushiguro x reader
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ooh, lover boy! what're you doing tonight? ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ megumi fushiguro x reader ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ━━━ ( ⋆。°✩ tw: n/a) ━ (wc: 1,015 ) ━ ( song inspo ✩°。⋆) ━━━
what kind of woman is your type?
ever since todo had posed the question, megumi hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind. at the time, he’d spewed some nonsense -- not having a particular type -- mostly because he’d believed the question was completely out of place and nonsensical; which, in his defense, it was. the other male was less than pleased with his answer, even going as far as to call him boring. yet, megumi couldn’t help but wonder if he’d even answered truthfully.
“gumi,” your voice finally breaks the silence between you two. he’d been so lost in thought he’d nearly forgotten you were a foot away from him, staring intently as you sipped away at your matcha latte. “you’re so quiet today,” you frown, fiddling around with your straw. has he upset you? 
he matches your frown almost instantaneously. “i don’t think i’m being any more quiet than usual,” he tries his hardest to coolly retort, an impulsive hand rushing toward you to ruffle your hair in a desperate attempt to act like nothing’s wrong. no, his mind totally isn’t waging an entire war right now. no, he’s not at all debating on, perhaps, one of the most crucial decisions of his life.
whether or not to dare risk ruining your friendship. 
──────────────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────────────────
“you make me sick,” maki’s voice, a disgusted groan, breaks his concentration entirely. as he whips his head toward the green haired girl, he realizes something. he’d been staring at you this entire time. you were several feet away, talking to panda. yet, the black haired boy is absolutely mesmerized. the way your eyes light up and sparkle every time someone makes you laugh… the way every time you flash your pearly white teeth seems to make his heart flutter. there’s something about you that he’s absolutely addicted to, but megumi fushiguro swears he’d never tell a soul about any of this. no, you two are friends. what if you didn’t like him back? what if he tells you how he feels and you never want to speak to him ever again? consumed by his thoughts, he fails to realize you and panda are waltzing right up to them. 
he clears his mind with a visible shake of his head, tilting his head and looking at maki with his best ‘i don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. was he really that obvious? he makes a mental note to stop trying to stare at you less, yet this feels like an impossible task.
“just ask her out already, loverboy,” maki sticks out her tongue. he doesn’t even have to look at her to know she’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.
“ooh, ask who out?” you question, clasping your hands together as you sit down next to your best boyfriend. he heard your voice. your voice. you just sat next to him. 
he swears he nearly jumps out of his skin upon realizing you’d just walked into a conversation about you. could he play it off? act stupid? what kind of lie could he tell to get out of explaining that maki was teasing him about you? were they talking about another girl from another school? no -- something about even pretending to like another girl feels wrong. 
“‘gumi’ likes a girl, but he’s too much of a pussy to ask her out,” maki snickers. it seems she’s even poking fun at your nickname for him, and he silently prays that you don’t notice this. “as a fantastic and the best friend anyone could ever ask for, i’ve been trying to encourage him.” her sarcasm is nearly enough to make his skin crawl. she’s deadpanning and making it so obvious it hurts. 
“do we know who this girl is?” you ask. maybe he’s making things up -- imaging things to make himself feel better -- but he swears your eyes dull and shift from the beautiful, sparkling orbs they always were. “we do not!” maki clicks her tongue, and megumi can finally breathe a sigh of relief. or so he thinks. “say… what’s your type anyway?” she segways the conversation almost cruelly, staring you dead in your eyes.
you seem to take a moment. firstly, to inhale a sharp breath. then, you take a second to think, furrowing your brows together in a moment of deep thought. a few beats pass and you finally exhale your sigh, and megumi swears you three have been sitting in silence for eternity. “tall,” you start, and he swears his stomach is tying itself into knots. “reserved… smart -- gotta be smart,” you chuckle and grin. “maybe even a little stoic. like i can never tell what’s going on in his head, but i always at least hope he’s thinking about me somewhere in there.”
in his state of sheer panic, he nearly misses the obvious blush dusting your cheeks. maki could’ve smacked him right in the back of his head and he still would’ve missed it. yet, somehow, you still have more to say. “someone who’s always thinking about other people… protective, i guess. someone mature and who always takes things seriously, even if other people think he’s a pain in the ass for it.” he can’t help but feel a bit guilty about giving such a lame answer to todo now, especially when you’ve had plenty to say. megumi opens his mouth to speak, yet he’s not even sure what he’s supposed to say to that. he prays deep down you’re talking about him, but it’s not exactly like he can voice that out loud--
“oh my god!” maki groans, throwing her head back. “you two are absolutely disgusting!” “you know she’s talking about you, right?” she hisses aloud, giving megumi, perhaps, the dirtiest look she could ever muster. “it’s actually so painful to watch you two dance around each other!” with her opinions growing quite vocal, maki stands up and crosses her arms. “do i have to do it for you? or are you two gonna talk about your disgusting and obvious feelings for each other?”
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inmyheaddd · 2 months ago
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wake up call - rafe cameron x reader
summary: pranking soft/tired!rafe after a party, by spewing absolute nonsense warnings: maybee slightly ooc rafe?? nothing really wc: 481 a/n: not too sure why i wrote this, i never write for obx 🤔🤔 i think its the drew starkey edits getting to me
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“rafe,” you patted his shoulder, “raaaafe,” he didn’t respond to you, only groaning as he turned in his sleep.
it was nearing 3 am now, and you had just gotten back from some party. you had been so exhausted just 30 minutes ago in the car as rafe drove you home, but now sleep seemed to be the last thing on your mind. rafe on the other hand, fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. 
after scrolling on your phone for a little while and seeing a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend, you decided it would be a good idea to do the same to the brunette who was dead asleep next to you.
“it’s super important,” you tapped his shoulder, “rafe. quick, wake up.” you lightly shook his arm as he mumbled incoherently, then turned away from you. 
“rafe, it’s an emergency. the beach broke, i need you to fix it for me.” you added, your voice so full of worry that it made rafe stir around again, this time to face you, with his eyes still closed. “…what?” he muttered as he scrunched his face up in confusion.
“you have to fix it, rafe.” you bit your bottom lip, almost shaking with the laughter you were holding in.
“alright, alright. i’ll do it tomorrow, yeah?” he grumbled as he patted his arm around mindlessly, trying to find you.
“you better, it’s really important.” you thanked god that he couldn’t see the wide smile on your face, contrasting to the dead serious, worried hint your voice took on.
“also, can you buy mars for me?” you almost broke out laughing right then and there at the blabber you were coming up with. “i’ve had my eye on it for a while, y’know? i think it would match that red top i have really well.” 
“sure, whatever you want.” he mumbled languidly as he tried to pulled you closer to him, before his face scrunched up in confusion. 
“baby,” he said, “what the fuck are you talkin’ about?” he blinked his eyes open at you, his eyebrows knitted together. “are you high?”
“nooo, oh my god.” your giggles broke out as you threw your head back, “it was a prank! i’m sorry.” you didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, still laughing uncontrollably at your boyfriends confused, and likely annoyed expression.
he tutted, briefly shaking his head and turning it to the side. you weren’t too sure if you were imagining the tiniest of smiles on his lips or not. “don’t play that stupid shit on me, go back to sleep.” 
your laughter began to fade as he adjusted his position and turned you around, pulling your back flush against his front and wrapping his arms around you. 
“you’re no fun.” you muttered, nonetheless with a smile on your face.
“yeah, i know, baby.” you felt the ghost his lips on your neck, “talking about buying mars and fixing the beach. get some sleep.” 
now, you could practically feel the way his lips turned up on your skin. that was a huge win in your book. 
debating your choices, you wanted to see if you could push his buttons just once more.
“…rafe?”
a sleepy hum.
“if you could though, would you get me mars?”
silence. 
you figured he was asleep, so you took the loss and closed your eyes, but then he finally spoke:
“how much did you fucking drink?”
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another a/n: this is a rafe version of the “half asleep” grayson hawthorne fic that i wrote!! (sorry guys im incapable of coming up w something new rn…)
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navybrat817 · 3 months ago
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Love Isn't Enough
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Pairing: Dark!Jax Teller x Female Reader
Summary: You love Jax, but not enough to stay.
Word Count: Almost 1.5k
Warnings: Angst, implied dubcon/noncon, attempted breakup, bittersweet ending, Jax Teller (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @writercole requested Jax Teller and a visit Under the Boardwalk (dark) with prompt #38 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You zipped up your bag after you put the last of your clothes inside. You expected a weight in your chest as you looked around the bedroom, but you weren’t upset at all. The place looked lived in, but it wasn’t a home. Charming was no longer your home. You could practically see the smirk on Jax’s face as he said “I told you so” since he suggested for you to leave and settle down somewhere else a long time ago. You didn’t listen then, but you were taking his advice now.
It was time to move on.
“I’m all about that fairy tale, baby.”
While you felt nothing when you packed your bag, your heart ached with each step you took. Jax Teller loved you and you didn’t want to leave him behind, especially when you still loved him, too. Just because the love was there didn’t mean you had support or respect. Not the way the club did. They would have a part of Jax that you would never quite reach and they couldn’t expect you to just fall in line or keep your mouth shut when your man did something dangerous or worse.
“You wanna be an old lady? Act like it. Do what you're told!”
There was something wet on your cheeks when you went to grab your keys. You sniffled as you wiped them with the back of your hand. When did you start crying? How many tears had you shed over the man who promised not to break your heart? It was tiring putting yourself back together and no amount of amazing sex or empty words could fully seal the cracks.
If your relationship taught you anything it was that love wasn’t always enough.
You didn’t regret it though. Life was too short for regrets. You got to experience love and many couldn’t say the same. You weren’t sure if you’d ever meet someone who sparked as much passion within you as Jax had, but you hoped he could defeat his demons without you tethered to him. Both of you could forge your paths and maybe they’d one day merge again.
“I love you, baby.”
“I’m sorry, Jax,” you whispered into the darkness of the living room.
“What are you sorry for?”
The keys fell from your hand as you spun toward the couch, your heart close to beating free from your chest. The flame from Jax’s lighter illuminated his face from where he sat and for a moment he looked like a demon, tortured and beautiful. He flipped on the lamp beside him and took a long drag from his cigarette, his stormy eyes drifting to the suitcase before they went back to you. His normally slicked back hair appeared disheveled as he blew out of a puff of smoke, like he couldn’t stop running his fingers through it.
He still took your breath away whenever you laid your eyes on him.
As much as you wanted to go to him and pull on those strands as you rode him, you wouldn’t. Sex wasn’t going to steer you from your decision. Besides, he used it as a weapon and you didn’t have the strength to clean up your wounds when you walked away.
“I didn’t hear you come home,” you answered.
He tilted his head and took another drag. “You’re sorry that you didn’t hear me come home?”
You swallowed as his gaze went back to your bag. “No, I’m sorry because I’m heading out,” you said, your stomach sinking as the words hung in the air.
Jax continued to smoke and you didn’t dare move as he took his time, the familiar scent of the smoke doing nothing to ease your nerves. You almost wished he yelled or destroyed something instead of stewing in silence. It put you on edge.
“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He finally asked, his voice so quiet you almost missed the question.
“I don’t know yet,” you said, tears springing to your eyes as he put the cigarette in the ashtray and got to his feet. “I just can't stay here.”
“So, you’re not just heading out. You’re going away. You’re leaving me,” he stated, clenching his fists as you moved back. He didn’t sound surprised. Just hurt and angry. Hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do.
“You told me to leave a long time ago. I should’ve left then, but I loved you and I thought that was enough for us,” you explained, a tear sliding down your cheek. You couldn’t back down though. “I still love you and I probably always will, but you’re married to the club. That’s your true love and I’m tired of fighting a losing battle.”
The stricken look he gave you almost made you apologize, but it was too late to turn back. “I’m the President and the club is family, but they aren’t you.”
“Jax-”
“Come here. Now,” he ordered, but there was a familiar gentleness in his gaze that he only showed with those he cared for. It was almost enough to make you cave. “Just sit and talk to me. We can figure this out.”
You slowly shook your head. “There isn't anything to figure out.”
“So, that’s it then? You're leaving?” He asked, raking a hand through his hair. “How many times do I have to prove to you that I love you? But no, it’s never good enough for you, is it? Love isn’t enough?” He scoffed when you shook your head again. “That’s bullshit. I need you and you need me, so don’t just-”
“That’s just it, Jax! I don’t need you!” You snapped. Both of your eyes went wide and you weren’t sure which one of you was more stunned by the statement. “When I did need you, you weren’t there. The club always has and always will come first. My eyes are finally open to that.”
“Baby…” he breathed out, his shoulders falling when you held up a hand.
“I love you. I do,” you promised. God, you loved him so much it fucking hurt. The pain had to end at some point. “But I don’t need you or this life. Not anymore. I’m done.”
You needed to say the words, so why did they feel hollow?
Jax snapped himself out of whatever shock he was in before he stomped toward you. With a gasp, you backed yourself against the wall. He never raised a hand toward you, but you had seen that fire in his eyes before. Anyone in his path ended up destroyed by that fury. Would he leave you on the ground in a pile of ash?
“You aren’t leaving me. We aren’t done,” He grabbed your chin, his grip tender when he could’ve crushed you. He pointed toward the bedroom, but kept his eyes on you so you knew how serious he was. “So unpack that bag and get it in our fucking bed.”
You searched his gaze, trying to find a trace of the man you loved instead of the stranger in front of you. “You can’t make me stay.”
He crushed his lips against yours, drawing a whimper from you. This wasn’t the kind of passion he typically showed you. This was a form of control. Like the club, he wanted you to bend to his will. Make you submit. Could you do that?
Was it safer or cowardly to give in?
It didn’t hurt so much when you opened your mouth to him and let him take over. The dull ache between your thighs would fade quicker than the cut to your heart. A betrayal of a moan escaped as his tongue dueled with yours. It didn’t take him long at all to win that battle. Jax would always win.
Was it worth fighting even if you lost? Yes. At least that way you could say even if you didn't win that you tried.
You couldn’t take a breath even when his mouth left yours. His lips left a blazing trail toward your ear, but it left you cold instead of warm. “Yes, I fucking can,” he snarled, your legs shaking as he pulled you away from the wall. “Tell me the club means more to me when I’m inside you. See if you can leave me when I’m fucking you into our mattress and showing you how much I love you.”
“Jax, please,” you begged, trying to pull free from his hold as he dragged you to the bedroom. He wouldn’t force you to sleep with him, would he?
“Beg all you want, baby. I won’t stop ‘til you know your place is here with me.”
Was this why Jax told you to leave a long time ago? To save you from the man he had become? It didn’t matter. It was too late to escape.
And maybe, in his own twisted way, he’d prove that love would be enough this time around.
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I hope I did this justice! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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pressureplus · 2 months ago
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this blog is the goat i love it sm :) totally get if it's too much but i'd love drunk seb headcanons. thnx ❤️
LOVELY, YOUVE GOT THE BIGGEST BRAIN ANON /POS
♡Drunk Sebastian Solace Headcannons♡
Warnings: Intoxication, Warnings to not Fuck The Fish™️, Brief Sexual Content
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟���꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
First off, getting him drunk isn’t gonna be easy
His body is significantly bigger so it’ll take a lot more alcohol than a normal human person
That and he could already hold his drinks well, so it’ll take some work to get that man actually drunk instead of just buzzed
Don’t try to match him drink for drink, you WILL die of alcohol poisoning unless you’re an alcoholic
Which wouldn’t matter he’d still out drink you based on weight/size alone, so I guess try not to die is the only goal?
Doesn’t feel comfortable drunk around most people unless you’re BOTH that kind of tipsy or he’s already close with you
When you do actually get him drunk?
The flirtiest, giggliest drunk you’re ever met
Sebastian will laugh at literally everything, it makes him so much easier to talk with
The world is sunshine and rainbows as long as he’s really fucked up
Honestly? He deserves it. He’ll smile at you so softly and actually fully listen when you talk. Maybe he’s not the brightest, or most talkative, but he has weirdly good advice
Though he is super giggly and playful, he does flirt
Usually they’re kind of fun. They’re not meant to really invoke any real feelings
“Hey there hot stuff, you lookin for a chair?” As he pats a portion of his tail.
He WILL forget that he flirted with you later, so don’t try to corner him on it as some kind of gotcha moment. He won’t believe you.
It also doesn’t reflect his feelings entirely…well unless he really likes you.
He’ll get a bit tongue tied and may even let it slip that he thinks you’re just gorgeous
His flirting gets very personal if he has a thing for you, but it’s less frequent because the man is too busy squirming from just sitting with you
Think flustered school girl energy
If he likes you he will do ANYTHING you ask
Please don’t try to fuck the fish, he isn’t very smart and he’s not gonna be able to top you
You’d have to do 100% of the work, and he wouldn’t remember most of it tomorrow anyway
He will probably just fall into a fit of giggles at the offer, honestly, so the likelihood of it happening is like nothing
So unless you’re both so drunk you’re not thinking straight? Don’t do it. Dont even try it.
If he doesn’t like you in that way? You might actually die for attempting it. It’s not worth it.
Speaking of not worth it, that man loses so much motor function. His tail is apparently weirdly hard to control all the way
Will prefer to just sit with you and not go anywhere as he will not have the control necessary to do damn near anything
He tried only once to go do something while really fucked up
Stupid fishman got stuck in a vent for a few hours
Worst experience of his life, (drunk fishman claims) he would never ever do it again
He’s the kind of man that sings when he’s drunk too, but only if you do it with him. He mimics like a parrot.
Or if you manage to play songs with him somehow, he might sing them if he vibes with or knows the song
Get a man to sing your favorite songs horribly at an octave that outright hurts
Idk something like California Girls by Katy Perry? Have fun with it
He can’t exactly dance really well but he might do a fun little shimmy if the music pleases him enough
Have fun doing your shared little dances, drinking to forget (always remembering), and laughing about nonsense
I’m sure, as long as you get him something strong and a whole lot of it
The both of you will get along fine!
After all, he likes people that get him gifts like this a little more
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coco-loco-nut · 6 months ago
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Twins
pairing: Lando x Twin Reader
summary: you are Lando younger twin, arguably more famous, and finally get to see him win, then you get to embarrass him a couple times
a/n: i was listening to the spice girls and got carried away from the original request, my bad :) also it’s not proofread
requests open masterlist
———————
“Lando, I literally have more followers and awards than you,” you argue with your twin about who’s more famous.
“Okay, well I’m still older,” he replies.
“Stop arguing, you rarely see each other as is. Why don’t you show her around the paddock and garages before you need to get ready for the race?” Zak rubs his face, tired of the sibling nonsense. He wasn’t wrong, you were much busier with your career. You are a member of a girl band that has been likened to the Spice Girls, have a successful solo career, and model when not on tour. The only reason you are at this race is because you have a concert in the same city a few hours after it.
“How’s the tour?” Lando asks, you arm looped with his as he leads you out of the garage.
“It’s so much fun. I missed being out on the road with the girls, and all the shows sold out. We should go to the club after our show, I heard that Miami is great for parties,” you say excitedly. The two of you were really close, despite your schedules not being great for hanging out.
“We will. All the guys are grateful for the tickets to your show tonight, by the way,”
“It was my pleasure, you guys will be in the family tent near the stage with backstage access. Enough about that, when will you no longer be Lando NoWins, bringing dishonor on my name,” you tease and he gently shoves you.
“Today’s the day, I feel it,” he says, pointing out some things. The nice thing about your stardom is that both you and Lando don’t notice or care about the cameras on you.
“Sure, and pigs will fly. The girls and I made a bet, if you win, then we will invite you and the grid up to the stage,” you tell him.
“Y/n?” you hear Carlos say from a group of drivers. Lando drags you over.
“Hi, Carlitos. How’s red suiting you?” you ask, hugging the Spaniard.
“Good, I heard you were in town for a show. How’s being an international pop star suiting you?” Carlos returns your question.
“It’s a lot of fun, I do miss Lando though,” you glance at your twin.
“Your sister is hot,” Logan says, he’s heard some of your music and he knows you are talented.
“Is she single?” Lance asks, also looking at you.
“She has a boyfriend, Luke, he’s an actor,” Lando scowls at the two guys.
“Would we know him from anything?” Max asks, trying to distract Lando.
“Bridgerton,” Lando says and the two single drivers groan.
“Yeah, you two don’t stand a chance. She’s dating Colin Bridgerton,,” Charles laughs.
“He’ll be at the concert tonight too,” Lando adds.
“I’m returning my favorite Norris to you, Lando,” Carlos walks you back over to the group.
“We will see you guys later,” Lando says, pulling you away so he can continue the tour.
“I found out who is performing at COTA this year,” you tell Lando and his eyes widen.
“Is it Taylor again? I can’t believe we missed out on that,” Lando guesses and you shake your head.
“Me, you idiot!” you gently hit his head.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me for too long,” Lando grins smugly.
“I can, and will, take away your ticket for tonight,” you threaten. Lando ignores you, pointing out something else. After the tour, Lando shows you where you can get a quick workout in while he changes into his race gear. You wait for Lando in the garage, where you meet Bianca.
“I’m a huge fan,” she gasps when you sit beside her.
“You’re a huge fan? I’m a huge fan. I love watching you race,” you tell her. Of course you support the F1 Academy, you just hope that the girls get contracts from it.
“Can we get a picture?” Bia asks and you are quick to agree. You get a couple pictures together before you spot Oscar and Lando walking in.
“Lan, Osc, come here. Family picture,” you call them over as Bia hands her phone to a social media staff member.
“We should do one of those awkward family photos from Tik Tok and gift them to Zak,” Bia suggests to Lando and Oscar.
“Sure Bia, we will talk about it later,” Oscar says, heading over to his car.
“Don’t crash, Lando, Mum will kill me,” you hug your twin tight.
“Maybe I will then,” he jokes but you give him a look that says it wasn’t funny. “Sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t joke about that. I’ll see you after the race,” Lando heads out to the starting grid. You cheer when Oscar leads the race, and again when Lando takes the lead. After the safety car, you don’t speak about Lando’s position, afraid to jinx it. You run with the team to the end of the pit lane after lando crosses the line. You cry as Lando runs over, jumping into the arms of his team, and you cry harder when he’s set back down and hugs you.
“I’m so proud of you, Lando,” you say, holding him tight.
“Thank you for being here for me,” he says back, he’s crying too. You pull away and wipe the tears from his eyes.
“Go enjoy your podium, champ,” you smile as the crew lets you know it’s time to go to the podium. Bia pushes you up front with Zak. You video call your parents so they can watch from your view as well as the tv. You don’t even realize, or care, that the cameras captured you crying beside Zak as Lando raised his trophy. Afterwards, there’s only a minute to congratulate him again before you have to go to the Kaseya Center. You manager wanted Hard Rock Stadium, but that’s currently occupied by a bunch of F1 teams.
You start the show strong with the girls, and when you get to the part of the show where you usually bring out a musical guest, you have the pleasure of introducing the guys. The guys don’t realize that the girls and you have planned on embarrassing them.
“Thank you so much Miami, if you guys have been following the tour, then you know this is the part where we introduce a very special musical guest. I think you guys are going to like this one,” you grin devilishly as the crowd cheers.
“Give it up for your hometown boy, Logan Sargeant,” you pause again and watch Logan run onto the stage. “You’re a winner in their hearts, Logan. I’d also like to introduce my twin brother, Lando NoWins, fresh off of his very first Grand Prix victory,” you smile, Lando making a beeline to hug you. “Also the rest of the grid, I don’t need to introduce them, you know them from fan fiction about my brother,” you watch Lando almost choke on the air he’s breathing. Your band mate, Amy, takes over as you and the two other girls pass the guys mics.
“These boys have graciously agreed to prove they are multitalented, so they are going to be singing a favorite of ours,” she smiles, motioning the crowd to cheer. You and the girls start the introduction to Wannabe by the Spice Girls, the guys taking over at the start of the first verse. The four of you fill in where the guys don’t know the words as much, but it’s clear they are having fun with it, especially since there are dancing terribly on stage.
“The Formula One drivers, everyone! Their first and last musical performance on stage, stick to driving, my loves,” you laugh, most of them choosing to hug you before leaving the stage.
“Great show, Y/n,” your boyfriend, Luke, kisses you before going to greet your band mates so you can receive the horde of drivers.
“I can’t believe you made us sing,” Lando says, a smile on his face.
“At least it was a song I knew,” George says, he actually did kinda slay.
“Can I collaborate with you?” Charles asks.
“Of course, let’s find a time after the race season,” you tell charles.
“You forget not all of us know Brit Pop,” Alex pouts.
“You didn’t know the Spice Girls?” Fernando seems actually offended.
“Fernando, you made your debut at the height of the Spice girls, Oscar wasn’t even born when their last album came out,” Lewis points out.
“That one doesn’t count, Geri wasn’t in it,” Max says, referring to his team principal’s wife.
“You all sounded wonderful because you were having fun with it,” you tell them, Luke walks back over to you, handing you a towel and water.
“Geri just texted me, she said she thought we were funny, but we aren’t allowed to sing any more Spice Girls because we make her look bad,” Max says, looking at his phone. “Oh, but she thought your band is just lovely, and that the Spice Girls should join you for a tour stop,” Max tells you.
“Well, you all heard Ginger Spice, no singing career for you lot,” you laugh.
“Alright, you guys have a good rest of the season. I’ll see you in Austin,” you wave goodbye to them, only Lando remains.
“Would you and Luke like to join me for a late night dinner?” Lando asks, you look to your boyfriend for confirmation.
“If you can find somewhere that we won’t be mobbed, we are in,” you lean into Luke. “Alright, I need to shower and change, follow me,” you show them to a green room near your dressing room. After a quick shower, you throw on an oversized McLaren tee and grey sweatpants. The dinner is lovely, but you have to go straight from there to the airport to catch the late flight to your next tour spot.
When you return for Austin as a solo artist, you are bouncing with excitement, Lando has looked really good the last few races. After qualifying, you go to the stage to get ready for your performance. Lando sends a selfie to you of him and the guys waiting front row for your concert to start, obviously surrounded by security.
About halfway through, you pause to truly appreciate all 80,000 people here to watch you.
“I’d like to take a moment to appreciate all of you for being here, even if it’s just because my twin drives really fast. I, um, wanted to bring out some guest to show you how much I appreciate you all, if that’s okay with you?” you ask as the crowd goes crazy.
“If you couldn’t tell from my Miami concert, I love this band, so from the Spice Girls, Ginger and Scary Spice, aka Geri Horner and Mel B! Accompanying us on piano is Charles Leclerc!” You open your arms for the crowd to greet them, the tifosi in the crowd are extra loud. “Lando, close your ears,” you say really quickly, moving upstage to get into position beside the two Spice Girls. Charles starts playing the into to 2 Becomes 1, a very slow and sexual song. As the three of you move downstage, you can see Lando’s embarrassed face. Worth it.
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