#just some guy that is also everything to me

[nhlclover]

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

��I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,��� he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

[00kittenz]

── homie hoppin’ ( lhs, pjs, sjy, psh ) ּ 𓂅⋆ 📙

๑ Heeseung never wanted to believe the rumors about you around campus, to him you could never do wrong and he sees you as nothing less than an angel. But when his friends begin telling him about their nightly escapades with some “mystery girl” that sounds awfully familiar, he grows more suspicious of your true intentions you’ve been hiding all along.

pair: hyung line ㅊ f!reader, college au | warnings: pwp, smut, angst (kinda ??), hook-up culture, yn is the biggest fuckgirl omg (but she’s sooo cuntyy), humour, slut-shaming (not from the boys), daddy kink, oral (m + f. rec), mentions of running a train but it doesn’t happen lol, lots of s.x flashbacks, yn is so unbothered by everything 😴, unprotected s.x (yikes !!!) | teaser wc: 857

thanks to @leeechin & @pshbites for enabling this idea LOL, couldn’t have done it without them frfr. also here’s a silly little preview of what’s to come (it gets real MESSY in this sfdsfsd)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

heeseung was never really the type to ever engage in gossip or drama going around campus. he’d rather simply mind his business and keep it moving, it was useless to entertain it anyway— most of the rumors held zero truth or any proof to back them up. what does seem to grab his attention however, is your name being constantly brought up in almost everyone’s mouths. you were the talk of the whole school and it wasn’t anything good that was being said about the girl he’s been sleeping around with on and off for the past few months or so.

“oh you know about y/n? isn’t she the one who’s always bouncing from one friend group to the next ? i wouldn’t trust her around my man even for a second..”

“didn’t she let leehan hit it at that party last night ? that girl needs to be stopped, she’s always messing around with different guys..”

“wasn’t she just with eunseok last week ? he was telling me all about how him and sungchan took turns on her.”

he couldn’t believe half the stuff that was being said about you. not only was it just plain disrespectful, but it was also disgusting how some people could spew such fabricated nonsense as if you weren’t a real human being with feelings. heeseung knew you two weren’t exclusive but you’ve been seeing each other more frequently, which made him think he might have a chance to make things official. at least he thought so, until he saw you talking with one of his close friends, jaeyun in the library. you both were way too close for comfort and the way you were giving him those same bedroom eyes that you’d always flash at heeseung, made his whole body fill up with an unimaginable amount of rage.

you were quite popular and well known around campus, your charming persona and pretty face was the perfect combo to get anyone to fall head over heels for you. everywhere you went you’d turn heads, all the boys would be breaking their necks just to get a glimpse of you. the tiny skirts you’d always wear had their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, which only made the other girls seethe in utter jealousy. the way you could command an entire room without even trying was a superpower in itself, you didn’t need to put in the extra work to get all the attention on you because everyone gave it to you automatically.

it wasn’t until heeseung began hearing more about his friend’s sex lives that he’d grow more suspicious of what’s really going on. he usually zones out and doesn’t really listen much whenever they talked about it, but since the movie they were watching wasn’t all that interesting, he began shifting his attention to his friends. jaeyun and jongseong were always bragging about how much pussy they’d get but they seemed to hyperfocus on one particular girl that seems to get brought up a lot in their conversations. jaeyun would say how she gave him the ‘most life changing head’ he’s ever received, meanwhile jongseong was describing how some girl he fucked a few days ago rode his dick like a grade A pornstar.

heeseung wasn’t adding much of his input into the conversation, and neither was sunghoon as he tends to keep that part of his life more private. but, what made him suddenly wanna jump up in his seat was when jaeyun was telling them how hot the girl looked when he fucked her from behind, she had a back tattoo and he thought that was the sexiest shit ever. he never specified exactly what the tattoo was, but he remembers that you also had one too. maybe he’s just reading too much into it ? could it really be you they were talking about ? nah.. there’s no way. he’s sure there’s plenty other women with back tattoos walking around campus, it simply could be an eerie coincidence. he knows he isn’t the only one that you’re sleeping with, but to mess around with his friends would be a new low for him. he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he were to find out that happened..

his worries would only worsen when he catches sunghoon smiling and faintly giggling at his phone about something, to which jongseong asks him what’s so funny. sunghoon simply shrugs it off and says it’s nothing, quickly locking his phone before he lifts up from the couch to announce that he’s going back to his dorm. they all exchange their goodbyes and wish him a safe walk back to his place. but when he left, he was walking in the direction completely opposite of his dorm, he was heading the exact same way it took to get to your building instead. now he’s really starting to overthink at this point. there’s absolutely no way you’re actually fucking all of his friends and he doesn’t have a single clue about it. heeseung may be quite oblivious at times but he isn’t that stupid. he’s probably overreacting. again, could just be a very weird coincidence… right ?

just leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

[hadesisqueer]

Seeing some people saying Jinx has more valid reasons to hate Caitlyn than Caitlyn has to hate Jinx makes me think that some of those people do not understand nuance and also believe Jinx is someone she is not. Not justifying Caitlyn's actions and I LOVE Jinx but why are some of people acting like 1) Jinx didn't kill Cait's mom 2) like Jinx is a full on freedom fighter who did everything for Zaun when actually she didn't care and the one who truly cares about Zaun and its people is Ekko.

Jinx was not a freedom fighter for Zaun in the first season, guys. She was a terrorist and she worked for the literal mafia and most zaunites feared her or hated her. She didn't give a damn about other zaunites and their well-being, that's Ekko. She did not blow up the council because she wanted to start a revolution and improve the lives of other zaunites, she did it because she was deeply mentally unstable and wanted to lash out.

And Jinx has perfectly valid reasons to hate Piltover and enforcers but some people have to stop acting like those are the reasons why she really hated Caitlyn last season when they're not. The reason was personal, and it was because Caitlyn had 'stolen' Vi from her. Again, I am not justifying Caitlyn's actions this season because they can't be justified at this moment, but last season all she did directly to Jinx that made her hate her was 'stealing' Vi. Jinx meanwhile knocked Caitlyn out and kidnapped her while she was naked and fresh out of the shower and later proceeded to blow up Cait's mom. I don't know, I think those are valid reasons to hate someone too, but maybe that's just me. And again, stop acting like Jinx is Ekko. She isn't.

[ariestrxsh]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷content warning: smut, innocence corruption, praise, mommy kink, thigh riding, oral (m!receiving), glasses kink, loss of virginity, sub!virgin!matt, dom!reader, friends to lovers

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷summary: you and matt are best friends and share everything with one another - except for what you each sound like in bed - that is, until now.

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask 💋

never lose me

"I have a question," you told your best friend Matt over dinner, leaning in closer to him and peeking up at him before you took a big bite of your pasta. You'd invited him out to celebrate a promotion you'd gotten at work, and you also wanted to ask for boy advice.

"What's up?" He asked, tearing off a piece of garlic bread and popping it into his mouth. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses as he made eye contact with you. "When you're having sex with a girl, does it bother you when she's loud?" You giggled, kind of embarrassed to ask.

"Why would that bother me?" Matt asked, his blue eyes darting around while he thought about how to answer your questions without confessing to you that he was a virgin. "I don't know. It's just this new guy I've been casually seeing. He's like, really quiet in bed. Almost makes me feel weird for being as loud as I am," you admitted.

He nodded to let you know he was listening, but behind his glazed over stare, he was thoroughly imagining all the naughty words you'd say and all the ways you'd scream whilst in the throes of ecstasy.

"He doesn't say much. He doesn't moan very much. I can't tell if I'm not satisfying him or if he's just shy," you confided in him, smoothing out your crimson dress that hugged your curves so snugly. "Well, have you tried asking him?" Matt timidly responded, studying the way your pretty red lipstick looked.

"Well, kind of. I mean, when I'm giving him head or stroking it for him, I'll ask, 'Do you like that, baby?'" You said in a seductive tone. Matt found it difficult to look you in the eye as he felt blood rushing to his appendage below his waist at the tone of voice you used. He took his napkin and subtly placed it on his lap to hide his growing erection.

"Mhmm," Matt nodded, halfway reassuring you that he was listening and halfway answering the question you'd just asked. "And he'll say it just like that, 'mhmm,' but even the way you said it sounded more convincing than when he says it. I just feel like he's not into it."

You took a sip of your red wine, your third glass of the night, leaving a lipstick print behind on the glassware. "Well, he's probably just nervous. I can't imagine he wouldn't like it when you.. do that stuff to him," Matt struggled to get out, twisting his ring like he always did when he was thinking about something.

"Are you shy in bed? I get the feeling you want to be loud, but you hold back," you lowered your volume, smirking at him. "That's none of your business!" He widened his eyes and smiled at you while he blushed. "See? You're already getting all shy on me," you laughed, taking another drink.

He nibbled on his lip and fiddled with his ring some more, and you noticed it had been a while since he touched his food. "Matty, are you okay? I didn't mean to get too personal with you or anything. I just get curious about what you're like in bed sometimes," you chuckled, reaching over and brushing your thumb against the back of Matt's hand.

Matt's gaze flickered up at yours and he raised his eyebrows in a surprised expression. "What!? You don't ever think about that kind of thing?" You replied, your cheeks turning pink. "I mean, of course I do," he laughed, hiding his face behind his hands.

"Why don't you satisfy my curiosity then and tell me how you sound?" You playfully flirted with him, slipping off your high heel and running your foot up Matt's pant leg, which turned Matt on even more. "Listen. I would have told you by now if I knew," Matt timidly replied, looking up at you for your reaction. "What do you mean?" You asked, gathering and twisting your noodles with your fork.

"I mean, I've never had sex," Matt said quietly, bracing for your reaction. He knew you weren't the type to tease him about it, but he was just so used to it by now that he was already prepared for it. You accidentally lost your grip on your fork and it fell against your plate with a loud clatter as you peered up at him once more.

"Never?" You asked with a bit of pity resounding in your voice. "Never," he innocently shook his head. "But surely you've done other stuff," you insinuated, picking your fork back up and picking at your food. "Nope," Matt softly answered, picking up his glass of water. "Why not, Matty? There's no way you haven't had any offers," you answered.

You knew Matt never talked about his sex life with you, but you always assumed it was just because he was being a gentleman and respecting the privacy of his sexual partners. It's not like Matt wasn't good-looking, and even though he was a bit dorky, you always found that endearing about him.

"I mean, girls are interested in me, and I can usually tell when they are, but all the girls who have ever been interested are so indirect, and all they do is drop hints like they want me to make the first move. I'm just not really into that. I want a woman who pursues me for once," Matt shrugged, adjusting his glasses again.

"So, you're saving your virginity for a dominatrix?" You raised an eyebrow at him, teasing him and giving him a sly smirk. You watched as Matt got all flustered and started running his fingers through his brown hair. "Well, I wouldn't word it like that. I just want a woman who's in charge and knows what she wants," Matt replied, blushing.

"Yeah? You want her to boss you around a little in bed, baby?" You cooed through your seductive smile. Matt rolled his eyes and let out a nervous giggle, but he neither confirmed nor denied your allegation.

You knew that your friendship with Matt was unconventional. You guys often did things together and talked about topics that most people would consider to be inappropriate for friends to engage in, but neither one of you minded how close you were. After all, you were just friends.

The waitress approached your table, offered you some boxes to take the rest of your food to go, and dropped off the check. Matt started to reach for his wallet, but you stopped him. "No, no, no. I invited you out, baby. I'll pay for your dinner," you grinned at him, reaching for your purse.

"Twisted my arm," Matt jokingly scoffed at you and acted like it was the biggest inconvenience to put his wallet back into his pocket, but he secretly loved that you always insisted on covering his bill. After you'd paid and left a generous tip, you went to get up from your chair.

"You ready, Matt?" You asked, standing up and grabbing your purse and your coat. "Uh, wait. You think we could sit here for a few more minutes?" Matt latched onto your arm, stopping you from leaving the table. There was an urgency in his voice.

"Yeah, of course. Why? What's up?" You tilted your head at him and softly caressed his face. "Please. You're gonna make it worse. Need just a few minutes. That's all," he said, batting your hand away. Your eyes traveled to the napkin placed over his lap, and you picked up on what the problem was.

"Oh, don't worry. We'll wait here until it goes away," you smirked at Matt, biting your lip. He blushed and let out a nervous laugh at how easily turned on he was, but you secretly loved it.

Once Matt's hard on had subsided, the two of you made your way back out into the parking lot, your red heels clicking against the pavement beneath you. You threw your arm around his shoulder, steadying yourself on him and towering over him. He reciprocated your gesture, hooking his arm around your waist.

"So, do you really think about what I sound like in bed?" He teased you, unable to let go of that tidbit of information you'd shared earlier. "Oh, from time to time," you snickered. You pulled your keys out of your bag and went to unlock your car, but Matt reached for them. "Hey, how about I drive? You've had a few drinks."

"Yeah, just a few," you rolled your eyes, holding your keys out of his reach. "Come on. I know that you're careful. But what if someone else causes an accident? Then you'd automatically be at fault because you had three glasses of wine tonight," Matt looked at you with his big, blue eyes.

He knew you were stubborn, but he always knew how to reason with you. "Fine," you smiled at him, handing him your keys and hopping into the passenger seat.

Matt started up your car, tilted the rearview mirror down, and moved the seat forward a bit to adjust to how much shorter he was than you. "It's so weird seeing you in the driver's seat. You're always my passenger princess," you teased him, connecting your phone to bluetooth and throwing on one of your playlists. He playfully side-eyed you as you serenaded him from the passenger seat.

When he pulled up to your house, he lowered the volume on your car speakers. "Hey, you mind if I crash here tonight? I kind of didn't think about the fact that I don't have a ride home unless I take your car," he innocently asked, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

"Of course you can stay here, Matt. You're always welcome to stay the night with me," you ran your thumb over the back of his hand again, a gesture you did often because you knew how much Matt valued physical touch. You stepped out of your car and grabbed your purse and your coat, slinging both over your shoulder. Matt, who still had your keys, unlocked your front door, letting the two of you inside.

You steadied yourself using Matt's shoulder as you stepped out of your heels, one foot at a time, still towering over the boy by a few inches. "You know, Matt. I don't think you should be self-conscious about being a virgin. I think it's really hot," you giggled into his ear, unable to stop thinking about how pure and innocent he was.

"Well, I was never insecure about it until people laughed at me when I told them," Matt responded, looking down and pushing up his glasses. "That's because other people are insecure and convinced that everything is a race. Don't worry about them," you drunkenly responded. "Thanks for saying that," Matt shrugged and gave you a smile.

"Come up to my room with me, Matty," you cooed, running your stiletto nails through his hair. He glanced up at you with a submissive expression and nodded, following you up the stairs. His gaze landed on your legs, and he silently appreciated every curve as you led him up to your bed in a calculated manner.

"I wanna shower before bed. Will you help me with my zipper?" You asked him once the two of you were standing in your master bedroom outside your bathroom. "Sure," Matt replied, feeling the tension in the air as you spun around, peeking over your shoulder.

He took the zipper between his two shaky fingers and slowly pulled it down, revealing your back to him. "Come hang out with me while I shower so I don't get bored?" You invited him in, batting your lashes in his direction. "Yeah," he replied in a soft tone.

You turned the dial on your tub and began running the water while you grabbed your makeup wipes and started washing the lipstick from your mouth. Matt sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, watching you remove the pigmented color from your face.

"Matty, I know you don't know what you sound like during sex, but indulge me for a second. How do you sound when you touch yourself?" You softly asked him, looking into his blue eyes. His cheeks started to turn bring red, and his face grew warm. "Um, I guess I'm not super loud, but I make some noise, and I definitely have to try to stay quiet," Matt disclosed to you.

"Yeah? I bet you whimper," you smirked at Matt. "Why are you thinking about that?" Matt wondered, teasing you and purposely ignoring your accusation. "Just a little curious. That's all," you seductively replied, still buzzing from the wine. "Well, just for the record, I think I would like it if a girl were loud in bed," Matt smirked at you. "Oh, really?" You asked, licking your lips. "Mhmm," he quietly answered you.

"No peeking," you ordered Matt as you started to slip out of your dress. He covered his eyes and shut them until you'd disappeared behind the shower curtain. "You can look now," you said to Matt as you tilted your head back, allowing the hot water to drench your hair.

He let his eyes adjust back to the bathroom lighting, and he watched as the steam in the air began to fill the space in front of him. He took off his glasses, wiping the condensation that was in the air from them before placing them back on his face.

"Thank you for driving me home and for being such good company," you thanked Matt from the other side of the curtain. "That's what friends are for," he responded, but the word friends started to lose its meaning and began to seem more like a strange sound than an actual term the longer it tumbled around in Matt's head.

"So this guy you've been seeing," Matt started off with a twinge of jealousy in his voice. "What about him?" You peeked your head out from behind the curtain with shampoo in your hair. "Do you think you'll end up dating him?" Matt asked, his eyes flickering up at you from his ring he was fidgeting with again.

"I don't know. I don't want to sound superficial, but the fact that he's so quiet during sex and doesn't give me any reassurance that I'm doing a good job is kind of a dealbreaker. It really kills the mood for me," you admitted, removing your detachable shower head and rinsing out your hair with it.

"What kinds of things would you want him to say?" Matt casually wondered out loud. "It's kind of embarrassing," you started to say, scrubbing your body. "You can tell me. I won't laugh," Matt assured you. "Well, I'd want him to moan really loud for me and not hold back," you started to say, letting your imagination take over.

"I'd want him to tell me how good I'm making him feel," you said, your hand dipping between your legs and softly running it along your folds while you pictured it was Matt under your control, saying this all to you.

"I'd want him to say something like, 'just like that mommy' when I'm doing something with my tongue that he really likes," you hissed through your teeth as you spread your lips open with two fingers, letting the warm water from the shower head hit your most sensitive place.

Matt quietly listened, his lips falling slightly open and his eyes subtly widening as he pictured you doing unspeakable things. His erection started to strain against his pants.

"And I'd want him to tell me when I'm about to make him cum," you said right before an obvious whimper escaped your lips as you kept the shower head pointed at your clit. Matt started to giggle. "Hey, you said you wouldn't laugh," you peeked out from behind the shower curtain, giving Matt a pouty face.

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing because I think it's funny or anything. I just laugh when I'm nervous," Matt replied, sighing and fidgeting with his hair. "Awh. Do I make you nervous, baby?" You cooed, and Matt blushed and nervously chuckled in response.

"Another reason he and I probably won't ever date is that he doesn't really like how close we are," you admitted to Matt. "You and me?" He asked, sounding surprised. "Mhmm," you hummed from the shower. "He knows we're just friends, right?" Matt asked, unfogging his glasses once more.

"Yeah, but he thinks something's going on between us," you replied, shutting off the water after you'd rinse all your bodywash off of you. Matt was caught off-guard by this, but the more he silently mulled over the dynamic the two of you shared, the more he realized how often the two of you toed of the line of being just friends and being more than friends.

"Well, he doesn't have anything to worry about. I'm a virgin," he laughed and shrugged, putting his glasses back on. He watched as you leaned out of the shower to grab your towel, exposing your breast to him while you held eye contact and smirked when you watched his gaze drop to your chest.

"I'm sure you'll lose your virginity before you know it," you responded, wrapping the towel around yourself and stepping out of the shower. "You think so?" Matt asked, chewing on his lip. "I know so. There's no way a cute little submissive thing like you isn't going to draw in the attention of a girl who's bold enough to make a move," you cooed, licking your lips as your eye caught a glimpse of his hard on. "I hope so," he whispered.

You sauntered off into your room, and Matt followed behind like a lost puppy dog. You dropped your towel and started changing in front of him, and in an attempt to be as respectful as possible, he turned his gaze away from you.

"I'm gonna go get set up in the guestroom, and I'll see you in the morning," Matt told you, getting ready to leave the room as you slipped into a pair of underwear and a tank top. "Oh, come on, Matty. Stay. What's the fun of a sleepover if we don't get to hang out all night until we fall asleep in the same bed like we always do?" You asked, pouting at him.

He slowly nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You don't mind if I sleep in just this, do you?" You wondered, presenting your pretty, black lace panties and black camisole. "I don't mind," Matt answered, staring at you in awe.

You dried off your hair and started brushing through it, and after a few more moments of silence, you brought up the original topic of discussion, the same one you and Matt had been dancing around and circling back to all night.

"Could I actually just show you how loud I am?" You shifted your eyes up at Matt as you caught your lip between your teeth. "Show me how loud you are?" He naively wondered. "How loud I can get during sex? I really feel self-conscious about it, and I need your opinion," you batted your lashes again. "Uh, sure. Why not?" Matt said, trying to keep his cool. "This is purely for science," you raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded.

He felt like he was in a dream, watching as you put each of your legs on either side of his knee. You lowered your weight down onto it until your clothed pussy was resting right on his thigh, the increase in pressure creating a wonderful sensation for you. He could feel your heat and the soft thump thump of your throbbing clit through your panties. You leaned in and locked your soft lips onto his.

It wasn't the first kiss you'd shared. You'd kissed each other a handful of times when you were younger, under the guise that you were just practicing, but this was definitely the most passionate one.

His whole body started buzzing as your tongue begged for entrance, swirling around in his mouth. He could taste the red wine on your breath. You let out a loud moan against Matt's lips as you started rocking back and forth on his leg.

He immediately felt the fabric of his jeans strain against his hard cock as he studied the way your lips fell open and your eyes fell shut once you'd pulled back from the kiss. "Oh, Matt," the words escaped your lips loudly as you picked up the pace. He loved hearing you say his name in such an intimate manner and seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Your hands made their way to Matt's chest, curling your fingers and latching onto the his jacket as you rode his thigh, and you slowly started to push the fabric off over his shoulders. Your involuntary sensual sounds filled the room, and you started grinding on his knee a little harder.

Matt held his breath as you reached for the bulge in his jeans and started palming it through the denim. "Oh," he quietly whimpered at your touch.

He could feel how wet you were getting, rhythmically rolling your hips forward as you humped his thigh. Your moans resounded, reaching their crescendo as you fell apart on Matt's knee. "That's it. Gonna cum," you cried out.

You held him in an embrace as you finished, falling limp against him and nearly screaming in his ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, your wet hair tickling his forearms and your chest pressing against his cheek as it rose and fell while you caught your breath. You were both blushing.

"Did you think I was too loud?" You quietly whispered just above his ear. "You were loud, but I liked it a lot," Matt said after a short pause. You let out a laugh. Matt's cock was aching. "Oops. Sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you climbed off his knee, revealing a wet spot you'd left behind on his jeans. "I don't mind," he replied quietly, staring up at you.

Maybe the two of you were too close, and maybe it was inappropriate to grind on your best friend's thigh, but why stop now? His breath hitched in his throat as you descended to a kneeling position in front of him. "Now it's your turn," you seductively relayed, your fingers crawling across his lap, making their way to his zipper.

"My turn? For what?" Matt naively asked, wide-eyed. "To show me how you sound in bed. Please, Matty. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight unless I know," you pouted at him, undoing the button on his jeans. "Wait. What if this complicates our friendship?" Matt wondered out loud. "Oh, come on, Matty. We're basically already dating. We do everything a couple would do except have sex. Maybe it'll actually make things less complicated," you smirked at him.

Deep down, he knew you might be right. "O-okay," Matt stammered, peering down at the way the teeth of his zipper came undone between your fingers. He went to take off his glasses, but you stopped him. "Matty, please. Keep them on," you requested, and he nodded.

You gave him a lustful and devious expression as you pulled his pants down just enough to access his throbbing dick. He lifted his hips as he looked into your hypnotic eyes. You reveled in the fact that you were going to be the first to make him make those sounds that were about to pour from his mouth. You reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock, mesmerized by the sight.

His tip was the same shade as his parted lips, and it was shiny with pre-cum already. You started to curl your fingers around its thickness and gently stroke it up and down. "Look at that," you gasped while you observed more clear liquid drool out of it, admiring how sensitive it was. Matt softly whimpered as it quivered in your hand.

You ran your palm up his shaft, grazing the head and spreading the fluid around, using it as lubricant while you pumped it back and forth. He let out a soft whine as you stimulated him. "Good boy," you praised him in a low, seductive tone.

He started gently bucking his hips up, driving his sensitive dick further into your hand while he let out a few stifled moans. "Don't hold back, baby," you cooed, picking up speed. "Mmm. It feels so good, mommy," he cried out, sending blood straight to your clit.

"That's it. Let me hear you," you responded, slowly closing the distance between his aggravated tip and your soothing lips, latching onto his most sensitive nerve endings. He gasped at the sensation. It was impossible for him to stay quiet.

Fervent noises filled the room while he watched as you made the head disappear behind your lips, then his shaft, and then you slid all the way down until your nose was pressed up against his lower tummy. "Yes, yes, yes," he whimpered, holding your wet hair out of your face.

You loved how responsive and interactive he was, doing everything you would have wanted a boy to do while giving him head. You bobbed your head up and down a few times, coaxing more pleasant sounds from Matt while he savored the soft, wet, warm feeling of your mouth.

You slid all the way down on his shaft again until the tip was in your throat, this time holding still while you hummed against his dick. "Please. Please keep going," Matt begged, trying to buck hip hips again, but you held them down, keeping him from being able to move. You were driving him crazy.

"Mommy, please move your mouth. I'll do anything," he implored, his voice cracking with desperation. You teased him, moving your head up and down but just slightly and at a painfully slow pace. "Faster, mommy," he begged you.

After a few more minutes of his pleading, you finally gave in, sloppily drooling all over his cock while you moved in a steady, calculated rhythm, stimulating every nerve ending on his rod while he inched closer to the finish line. "Feels so good. Gonna make such a mess for you, mommy," Matt desperately whined.

The words leaving his mouth suddenly had you aware of how empty you were feeling between your legs.

You moved back up his length with your mouth, but this time, when you reached the tip, you slipped it out of your mouth and smirked up at Matt. "Please. No. Why'd you stop?" He wondered, sounding distressed by the way his pleasure came to an end suddenly before he was done.

You stood up. "Be a good boy and wait," you responded lustfully, dropping your panties and pulling off your top. Matt fell silent as he admired your body, his eyes following every curve.

The shape of your body drew in his stare to your most intimate parts, the way your thighs came together in a v shape, practically directing his eyes towards your pussy. His eyes wandered up towards your breasts that he'd only ever seen for seconds at a time when you'd changed in front of him.

"Be a good boy and let mommy cum one more time, and then it'll be your turn. Got it?" You asked, slowly stepping towards him again. "Anything you want, mommy," he obediently nodded.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, taking his dick into your grip and guiding it towards your hole. "Oh my god," Matt gutturally moaned with his eyes rolling back as you slowly descended onto him, taking it inch by inch. He couldn't believe you were taking his virginity.

"Don't you dare cum yet," you smirked at him as you lowered all the way down and started bouncing on his cock. He nodded at you with his glazed over eyes and his jaw hanging open as you picked up speed, your tits bouncing in his face while he admired them.

You started rubbing your clit while you rode Matt, and more urgent whimpers poured from both of your lips. "How's it feel, Matty?" You cooed. "Best feeling ever," he moaned, peering into your eyes. "You're so big. You fill me up so good!" You exclaimed as his dick rutted into your g-spot. He swooned at your compliment, placing both his hands on your waist.

You rocked your hips forward, your pussy gliding up and down his length, and you felt your legs behind to shake. You could feel Matt's dick throbbing in your hole as he whimpered for you and looked up at you with his most desperate expression, which sent you past the point of no return.

Your pussy spasmed around his sensitive cock, and he could feel every contraction as you called out his name loudly over and over. You rubbed your clit in tighter, faster circles. He felt your whole body tighten while you shook and loudly squealed as you finished onto him, leaving behind the milky evidence of how much fun you'd had leaking down his shaft.

"Please," he begged, staring down at the mess you made on his cock and knowing he'd done that to you had him right on the edge of his climax. "Please what, baby?" You bit your lip, still riding him. "Please, mommy. Don't stop. Need a warm place to cum inside," he cried out.

"Of course, baby. Of course you can cum inside," you assured him, cradling his head and pushing your breasts into his face. Your rose-scented bodywash filled his senses. He peered up at you with his pretty blue eyes that were filled with lust and desire. His eyebrows were furrowed together in an expression of sheer pleasure.

Goosebumps arose all over his flesh as an orgasmic rush coursed through his body. He whimpered fervently against your chest, his cock twitching and draining inside of you. You loved watching him come undone underneath you. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick until he started hissing through his teeth about how sensitive it was.

You brought your movements to a stop, tilted Matt's chin up with your hand, and kissed him while he was still inside of you. He looked up at you wide-eyed and panting. "Wow, I never knew sex could be that intense," he innocently shook his head. "I made you feel good, didn't I?" You asked, nibbling on your lip. "So good," he replied, pushing up his glasses.

"That was so hot. I knew you'd be a whimperer."

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

[priniya]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 END OF THE DAY ! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. lando norris x reader

summary. being a supportive girlfriend during an awfully stressful time is hard, so when reader and lando ends up fighting, neither of them is surprised. however, she can’t help but be in love with him at the end of the day.

notes. pretty short and not proofread 😕😕

YOU WERE WALKING ON EGGSHELLS FOR THE PAST two weeks around your boyfriend. he was thrown into contention for the title mid-season and as the last race weekend of the season was getting excruciatingly closer, lando’s mood was dropping drastically. you understood it, not in the way that you were in the same situation as him, but frustration, pressure and disappointment weren’t strangers to you. you could see that your boyfriend was gradually becoming a ticking bomb, yet unsure when will his breaking point happen.

as it turned out, it happened on a second day after he got back from brazil. it was a silly argument that escalated to a major fight, resulting in you, driving back to your apartment in ventimiglia to give the brit his required space.

it wasn’t ideal, coming home, you hardly stepped a foot into your apartment, when lando was in monaco as you usually stayed at his place to get as much of him as possible in the — usually — short period of time. norris, unbeknownst to you, immediately felt terrible just as he watched you left. guilt creeped up his spine, yet he made no effort to stop you, knowing that he needed some space to get ahold of himself. no title could make him fill the void if he lost you.

so, after a few days of radio silence from one another, you were starting to feel like you were losing the precious time you had with lando. the clip from max fewtrell’s stream with your boyfriend there, saying that he’s eating food that sat in his fridge for more than six months or staying awake for 26 hours, has found its way into your twitter feed. it made you worry restlessly.

thirty or so minutes later, while lando was still playing some game with max and a few of their friends, you let yourself into his apartment and started rummaging through his to find all those expired items and threw them out, already making an order for new groceries. as much petty as you could be sometimes, you didn’t want your boyfriend to end up with food poisoning, it was kind of oscar’s thing now.

cleaning his fridge took you fifteen minutes at most, considering that you threw up a huge portion of its content. it was just then, when you decided to put on your big girl pants and face him. you made him some tea with lemon and honey, before quietly tapping him on the shoulder.

“jesus christ!” he shrieked, causing you to giggle. “mate, i think i’m having some sorta proper hallucinations.” your boyfriend spoke into his headset, not believing the sight in front of him — not believing that he was seeing you. you could’ve easily picked up the guys taking a piss out of him, which made you laugh even harder.

“you need sleep, lad.” “yeah, you sound like a maniac.” “that’s the expired meat speaking.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, lads. i’ll take care of him.” you moved closer to the microphone to let the guys know that everything’s taken care of, fully aware that max, your boyfriend’s best friend, would get concerned.

“i’m super sorry.” lando spoke softly, once you left the discord call. his arms snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against him — almost as if he had really missed you. “i love you so much, please don’t break up with me.” he added. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back the chuckle upon not only hearing his words, but also upon seeing his childish-like expression.

you managed to escape his embrace, dropping your hand into his, while trying to drag him back into his room for a nap. it wasn’t a hard task with lando trailing right behind you until you sat him down at the edge of the bed.

“i’m not mad at you, baby.” you reassured him in a gentle tone. your hand caressing his cheek. “i still love you, okay? but you gotta go to bed, lando. we’ll talk later, alright?” you tried to coax him into listening to you and you’ve succeeded.

WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND WOKE UP A FEW HOURS later, he thought that your presence in his apartment was just a dream. having pushed himself off the bed, he walked to the kitchen to finish off his expired chicken. that’s when he found you lounging on the couch, while eating something that smelled incredibly well.

yup, he must’ve been hallucinating.

with that in mind, he didn’t even approach you, trying not to feed into his delusions. if his mates knew that he started seeing his girlfriend after eating something that spent a few months in his fridge, they would never let him live it down. he furrowed his brows at the sight of a pan full of carbonara that he had no recollection of making — maybe he should go see a doctor?

lando sighed in relief after having taken a sniff of the dish, realising that somehow it’s not gone bad. how did it ended up in his place? no idea.

“bloody hell, no more eating expired food. i’m seeing stuff.” the brit muttered, rubbing his face in slight frustration. upon hearing his quiet mutter, you let out a small chuckle, tilting your head to the side in amusement.

“lando, you know i’m real, right?” you mused, a small smile creeping up on your lips. your boyfriend’s forehead creased in confusion. god, he seemed so out of it. “as in, i came here this afternoon, you’re not seeing stuff.” your words were coated with hilarity as you gave him a look.

lando was bewildered. twenty six hours of sleep weren’t that much, how did he forget that you got to his apartment and, apparently, talked to him? his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he put the plate down on the coffee table and sat next to you.

“i, uh, wanted to call.” he spoke, his head hanging a bit lower. “t’was unnecessary, my outburst, i mean.” a sigh escaped his lips. he was slowly beginning to look like a sad, kicked puppy.

“it was super unnecessary.” you agreed, running a hand through his hand in a slow motion. “we can’t really go back in time, can we?” he shook his head at your words, taking your hand in his hair as an invitation, so he moved closer to you, his arm sneaking around your waist.

“but you still love me?”

“yes, lando. i still love you.” you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“good, i would probably kill myself, uh, or die without you.”

[verysadlesbian]

Now that I have sat with my thoughts for a couple of days, I want to talk about some things:

There are too many people trying to defend Caitlyn's actions, so I have to say: NOTHING, and I mean absolutely nothing, justifies fascism. "Oh but she's grieving and blahblahblah" you know who else was grieving?! The mother of the kid Jayce killed in season 1. You know who else?! Vi and Powder that saw enforcers murder their parents, just like many other children from Zaun. Caitlyn destroyed her mother's legacy in the police brutality™️ operation, you understand how fucked up this is? Her mother's recording is saying "the people from Zaun deserve to breathe," and she did it anyways. If you sympathise with Piltover, you're either part of the problem or naïve enough to fall for fascist propaganda.

Ekko is the only real one. Not a single slightly evil bone in his body. Everything he does, he does for his people, not in a persuit of power, or revenge. He's genuinely good, so much so that he's willing to hang out with not only Heimerdinger, but also Jayce just so he could protect his community. He deserves so much better and I'll be heartbroken when he finds out that Vi was involved in Caitlyn's operation.

I don't know how Vi can forgive Caitlyn after what happened. I know I wouldn't. It just goes to show that you cannot trust that privileged people are going to be different just cause they were nice to you. Viktor found that out in season 1 and Vi is finding this out now.

Do you guys think the black rose is gonna pretend to be Mel?! I don't play LOL, but it is to my understanding that the black rose can make clones, so it'd be obvious that they're gonna take Mel's identity

Saw some people on twitter and tiktok (of course they were there) denying that jayvik has heavy romantic undertones by stating "they're friends! They're like brothers! Why everything has to be gay now?" and EVERYTHING HAS TO BE GAY CAUSE I SAID SO, NOW SHUT UP! But seriously though, I understand that to cishet viewers, their relationship might seem strictly platonic, 'cause they lack the eye that we, queer people, have for these things. And that's okay. Not everyone needs to understand the nuances of a homoerotic friendship. But in the same breath, they're quick to say that "Viktor was thinking about Sky, so obviously he's straight" and that pissed me off, cause: 1 - have you looked at him?; 2 - He feels responsible for her death (cause he was)! He's thinking about her because he feels GUILTY! that man was not interested in Sky whatsoever; 3 - it's so heteronormative to think that a man and a woman can't be friends, they're so adamant in denying jayvik cause "they're friends!" but they do the same fucking thing!; and finally 4 - HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM???

Anyone that sides with Piltover would probably be a zionist as well. I don't have to explain this.

The trio "Sevika, Jinx and Isha" is probably my favourite thing in Act 1, I just can't get enough of them.

[tillinghastcorporatemedia]

A lot of this as true but as a cis guy who's been assumed to be queer since before i knew i was queer and has long hair, which normally wouldnt even be something i'd bring up, but this is something ive experienced due to being really short and having long hair but i wanna refer to number 3

3. That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men.

Idk if you've had to be around these fucks but let me tell you, men like this act like im not a man. every day i wear a mask i get called maam even when ive got a beard spilling out of the edges of my mask. (got called mamacita at a taco truck the other day while having to pick up a dashing order. thats new) But growing up, i was the punching bag. Didnt matter if i was agreeing with everything they said, did, or even hyped them up. I was the punching bag. Ive had my hair lit on fire while driving, beat up multiple times, bullied until i started fighting back. you could say it was just shitty high school guys but then we get into adulthood. When you become older but still dont even clear the national average men dont look at you the same. im still a target to these people just because of my look, and not even the hair. I got assaulted, by a straight man, while i was checking the oil in my car. My hair wasnt down, wasnt wearing feminine clothing, doing autowork checks. And guess what when i freaked out because some random guy came up behind me and started grabbing at my chest he backed up and then freaked out i was a guy and was threatening to beat me up because i was "tricking him" call me a coward i just ran off. You can call out your friends sure, and sometimes it might work in a social group setting. but i guarantee you youll just stop getting invited instead of behavior being corrected. this is said already but the men these men listen to arent gonna do this, and you might be able to change some minds with words. But as someone who pays attention to shit, words dont do shit. actions do though. if you wanna fix this problem its not gonna be the tiny little gay guy these men wanna beat the shit out of that they are gonna listen to.

at some point something else but words is gonna have to be done and as a man i wish i could figure something out but because of both my sexuality and my unchangeable features of my body im basically excluded by most any "masculine" guys.

I dont have an answer, i wish i did but i dont

But i will say its gonna take actions, not just words, for these sacks of patriarchal dung to take themselves to the trash can or clean themselves up.

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[brown-bi-beautiful]

BABY BOY

College au

Pairing: nerd! Jungkook x fuckgirl! reader

MINORS DNI

Genre: strangers to lovers? smut, fluff, a little angst

Words: 21.4k

Summary : You are bored with all of the boys on your campus and now you want the new toy except...the new toy doesn't want you

Warnings: Jungkook hates reader at the beginning 😭😭😭, Jungkook is an asshole to her, reader and her friends are low-key mean girls, reader and her friends objectify Jungkook a lot (red flag right there), reader is kind of the s word, casual slutshaming, angst (but it's like very tolerable), SMUT [MASTURBATION (Male, ORAL REC. (Both male and female), Fingering, JUNGKOOK'S DICK NEEDS A WARNING BY ITSELF (spoiler alert: ITS BIG AND OC's OBSESSED), Protected sex (be responsible kids)], FLUFFFFFF.

A/n: OMG.... It has been a while. Honestly work was so hard this past year and on top of everything i went through a very bad break up due to which I wasn't really in the mood of writing anymore ( Also why I kinda half assed it a little, Im very sorry). But now that we are back again I really hope you enjoy it guys. It was initially going to be 30 k words but due to the above mentioned things I could only reach 21 k but I still hope I won't disappoint you guys. Anyways, happy reading.

*******

'Why did you agree to this?' you asked yourself once again as you stared at the boy sitting opposite you, nervously stumbling over his words. You looked at him with a bored expression.

Let’s make one thing clear: you have a policy of not dating. The only reason you agreed to this date was simple—who would turn down free food, right? Plus, the boy was somewhat easy on the eyes. However, after listening to him struggle to tell a story for the last half-hour, you were instantly reminded why you avoid dates altogether: they can be incredibly boring.

'Oh God, fucking and dumping is so much easier than enduring this.' You don’t even understand how they get the impression that you're looking for anything more than just sex. From the start, you’ve always been clear about your intentions—letting them know that you're only interested in a physical relationship with no strings attached. At first, they all agree, but eventually, they start pushing for more, asking for just one date, as if that would change your mind.

"Could you at least pretend to look interested?" he snaps suddenly, his irritation showing at your impolite demeanor.

"Well, I'm not."

"Then why did you say yes to this?"

"Because you were practically begging me to, and I was just feeling a bit hungry, dude," you retorted, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, it’s not you, okay? I just don’t do dates... What was your name again?"

"How could you not remember my name? We had sex this morning!" He looked hurt, but it's not your fault, you were drunk last night when you met him at the frat party.

"And did you hear me say your name once?" you asked with a raised eyebrow .

"You're a bitch." He exclaimed, getting up to rush out of the cafe.

"At least pay for the pancakes!" you called after him but he ignored you and ran away. 'What a little bitch.' You sighed throwing some bills on the table and got up to leave as well.

Let’s make one more thing clear: you loved sex. It was ironic, really, considering you were a virgin when you first started college. But after getting your heart broken by your boyfriend during the second semester, you realized the only good thing that came out of relationships with men was sex.

You have sworn off dating but that didn't mean you were going to give up on having sex too. If guys could do it without any judgment, you saw no reason why you couldn't as well. As a result, you gained a reputation as the infamous "fuckgirl" of your college.

*******

"So? I heard your recent boy toy has been telling everyone that you suck at giving head." Jimin, your best friend of 3 years said. Jimin was the only guy you have stayed friends with after having sex. Sex with Jimin was good, so good that you guys became fuck buddies for a few months in fourth sem. However you had to stop having sex when he started seeing a girl regularly and then you didn't go back even after they broke up, You both decided that you liked your dynamic better as best friends.

"As if I would let that dick anywhere near my mouth." You roll your eyes, taking a seat next to him at the far end of the classroom. It was frustrating to see guys act like this after facing rejection. "Honestly, who cares? Everyone knows that's not true." you remarked, dismissing the behavior with a hint of exasperation.

"I don't know, you were kinda awful."

"Hey, I take offence. I was the best sex you've ever had and you're a lucky bastard to even get a taste of this." You said pointing at your own body.

"I'm kidding. He's probably just salty that he wasn't the one to change you for the better and be your awakening."

After several minutes of silence, with only the voice of Mr. Aitken filling the air, you returned to the previous subject. "I don't get it, I mean what part of 'I only want to have sex' is so hard to understand?"

"I don't know, bro. You should do what I do, leave before they wake up and block them from every social media platform."

"Oh what a great person."

"Says the one that has fucked almost half the college?"

You gasped at his sudden dig and slapped his arm. "You're a bigger slut than I am, bitch. Anyways, I'm done with college boys."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they're so immature. I just want someone who would understand the depth of casual sex."

"You sure you're not only saying that because you've now slept with all the boys in our campus?"

"Shut up. My body count is still very modest. And I'm serious, I'm not sleeping with anymore college boys."

"As if on cue, Mr. Aitken's lecture was interrupted by the creaking sound of the large lecture hall door swinging open. In walked a boy with fluffy hair and clothes that seemed too big for him, drawing everyone's attention."

"I'm so sorry for interrupting you. Is this Ancient Mesopotamia with Mr. Fergus Aitken?" the boy asked in a voice so low that, if it hadn't been so silent in the class, you wouldn't have been able to hear it.

"Yes, it is. Now hurry up and take your seat; you're wasting my time," the old man grumbled, prompting the boy to rush and nervously find a place to sit. You observed him with curiosity as he settled into the only available seat, which happened to be in the third row, directly in front of you.

From the little you could see of his face, you certainly liked what you saw. He seemed younger than you, or maybe it was his clothing style and demeanor that gave off that impression. There was an aura of innocence and cuteness about him that caught your attention. If it weren't for the classroom setting, you would have already approached him.

While you had no reservations sleeping with any attractive man, Jimin always insisted that you have a type. He believed you had a soft spot for spoiling cute and innocent boys. Boys who seemed inexperienced in the field, boys you could teach, boys who looked like they've never seen pussy in their life, boys like him.

Your best friend seemed to have caught on to the expression on your face, and with a knowing smirk, he nudged you playfully.

"I thought you said you were done with college boys."

"That was before I knew someone this cute goes here. Who the hell is he?" you asked, genuinely curious about the boy who had just walked in.

"Why do you think I know everyone in this college?"

"Because you're a gossip girl."

"You don't complain when I give you the gossips."

"I'm sorry, is my lecture interrupting your conversation, Mr. Park, Ms. __?" a thickly accented voice interjected, breaking your conversation with Jimin. You glanced up and noticed that all eyes, including those of the new boy, were on you. This time, you got a full view of his face, and you were taken aback by his beauty. His big doe eyes gazed back at you, his lips set in a natural pout, and his fluffy hair, partially restrained by a black bandana, almost concealed his stunning features. To call him merely pretty would be disrespectful; he was absolutely gorgeous.

"No, sir. I was actually just clearing her doubt about King Shu-Sin." Jimin said and you nodded along.

"Well, that's unfortunate, given that topic ended last week and we're on Assyrian civilization." You fought the chuckle that almost escaped you as Jimin's face reddened in embarrassment.

"You see, I know that, but-"

"If you want to talk, just get out of my class." Mr. Aitken's stern words snapped you back to reality as he resumed his lecture. Despite the urge to leave, you knew you couldn't afford to miss any more classes, given that your attendance was already lagging behind. Moreover, there was the intrigue of the new boy who had captured your interest recently. So, you stayed put, trying to focus on the lecture, though your mind kept drifting back to the presence of the boy in front of you.

After what felt like an eternity, but was only an excruciating 40 minutes, the lecture finally came to an end. Without waiting for Jimin, you promptly stood up from your seat, excited that you finally had the opportunity to approach the boy. Your eyes scanned the room for your new object of interest. Among the sea of students, his fluffy head was not too difficult to spot as he made his way toward the exit. However, navigating through the crowd of more than 200 students, all eager to leave Mr. Aitken's apparently popular class, proved to be quite challenging and frustrating.

"Shit!" You exclaimed when you finally got out of the class but couldn't get a sight of him. 'How is he so fast?'

"You know you should start paying me for this." Came the voice of your friend from beside you as he held out your bag which you had left behind in a rush.

"Bet you've said that before."

********

"Guess who has a new crush!" Jimin exclaimed the moment both of you stepped into the café where you and your friends usually hung out. And by hung out, you meant practically lived.

"Shut up, it's not a crush," you defended yourself, settling down on the couch and playfully nudging your friend with your butt to make some space for yourself.

"Sure. It's not a crush." Jimin mocked.

"Wait, I wanna know. Who is it?" Riley exclaimed excitedly, leaving her boyfriend Hobi's lap to move closer to you, eager to hear all the details.

"It's not a crush or anything. Jimin loves to overreact. It's just this guy I noticed in class today. It was his first time with Mr. Aitken; otherwise, I think I would have noticed him before. He's just really cute, that's all."

"Wait cute as in 'charming-flirty cute' or cute as in 'you could spread him on a toast and eat' cute." Jennie chipped in on your conversation.

"Knowing her, I bet it's the latter." Said Hoseok.

"I'm not answering that." You said as the waitress, Robin, came with your usual coffee order and you thanked her with a smile.

Amidst the conversation, you couldn't help but notice that Jay, one of your friends, had been unusually quiet the whole time. Before you could ask him what happened, he got up to leave.

"I'm gonna go smoke some weed. You wanna come?" Jay asked you, and you declined with a shake of your head. As soon as he was out of earshot, your other friends burst into laughter, amused by the situation.

"Oh he wishes you'd cum."

"Guys please. He'll get over it." You defended the guy even though you were quite sure he wouldn't get over it soon.

"He better, it's getting pathetic." Said Riley.

Jay had been harboring a crush on you for over a year now. He had asked you out twice in the past month, but you turned him down, saying you don't fuck with friends.

As you engaged in another conversation, you heard the bell on the front door ring, but you didn't pay much attention to it initially—at least not until Jimin burst out with wide eyes.

"That's him, that's him. That's her new crush!" All of you turned around to see the boy standing at the café entrance, looking around with his wide doe eyes as if he were looking for someone.

You were never one to get enchanted by someone very easily. It hadn't happened even once since you got to college—at least, not until this boy. There was something about him that captivated you effortlessly.

It definitely wasn't love at first sight, though. Your experiences had taught you that you were somewhat incapable of feeling love in the traditional sense. You just couldn't. But would you admit that you were attracted to him? Yes, you were undeniably and very much attracted to him.

"Oh he's a cutie."

"Him?" You turned around at Jennie's words as she shook her head.

"You know him?" You asked.

"No I don't know him. I know of him." You felt like you've hit a jackpot. Not you'd know at least something about him when you approach him. "You can't fuck him. You know Namjoon's friend Jeon Wonwoo?"

"If by 'know' you mean 'slept with'? Then yes."

"That's Jeon Jungkook, his brother."

"No way. What?"

"Yeah, and Wonwoo hates you so much. I'm pretty sure his brother hasn't heard good things about you."

"But maybe he doesn't know her," Jimin said "Maybe Wonwoo hasn't told him about her. I mean who likes to brag about getting dumped?"

"Yeah, I'm with Jennie here," Riley said and you raised an eyebrow, "Not because he's Wonwoo's brother or something but because, look at him. He looks like you'd break him."

"No, I won't. Why do you guys always act like I'm some man-eating witch?" you retorted, feeling defensive and exasperated at your friends' judgmental reactions.

"Babe, you know that's not what she means. You know guys like him can never handle a woman who's comfortable in her sexuality." Riley nodded along at Jennie's words.

"You never know. For all we know he could be like...a freak in the sheets."

"Really? Him?" You followed Hosoek's gaze to see the boy in question sitting on a barstool and sipping on pink Boba tea. His lips made a small pout around the head of the straw.

"He's cuuute." Riley cooed.

"And you have a boyfriend." Hobi reminded her and she pecked his lips in assurance.

"You know what? Go for it," said Jennie with a smile. "Fuck Wonwoo, in fact I'll ask Namjoon some details about him." You squealed and kissed Jennie on the cheek with a big smacking sound.

******

It seemed like you were experiencing the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, because lately, Jungkook had been popping up everywhere—in your classes, at the café, and anywhere you hung out on campus. It had been over a week since you first noticed him, but you were yet to approach him. It wasn't that you were nervous or anything, no, far from it; you were just looking for a good opportunity to pounce.

He always rushed out of classes as if he had to attend to surgery or something, or he was always with his two guy friends, who looked like they'd have a seizure if they came in contact with a woman. It's not that you were nervous about asking him out in front of his friends; you just weren't sure if he wanted to be asked out in front of them.

Through Jennie (read: Namjoon), you managed to gather some information about Jungkook. He was a third-year student, majoring in chemistry, and 22 years old—he was a year younger than you and all your friends.

Right now you were fooling around with one of the boys in class at another one of your hookup spots. It was just meant to be a quick exchange of weed when Dongmin suggested you should make out since you were already in the sacred spot and you were like why not.

You and Dongmin have been hooking up for quite some time now. While you don't usually sleep with a man twice, Dongmin was quite good at what he does.

You don't realize when his hand slipped into your panties but you certainly weren't complaining.

As you were in the middle of your intense make-out sesh, a loud thud disturbed your encounter, leaving you irritated and eager to shoo away whoever had intruded. When you turned around to address the interruption, your voice caught in your throat and all the irritation left your body when you found yourself face to face with the familiar pair of wide, doe eyes.

It was none other than Jeon Jungkook, the same boy you've been trying to get alone with for the past week but had no luck. The same boy you've been lusting over just saw you with another man, his hand down your panties.

"I'm- I'm sorry... I got lost- I'll just... Leave." Jungkook hurriedly picked up his books from the ground and rushed to get out of there.

Before you knew it, you were pushing away the guy in front of you and without any explanation to him you rushed after Jungkook.

"Hey, wait," you called after him and he froze on the spot. When you finally approached him, you gave him a sweet smile.

"I-I-said I'm sorry."

"Oh no, it's ok. You just said you're lost?" Jungkook looked at you in confusion. Did you actually just leave your make out session to ask him that?

"Umm... yeah, I recently started having classes in this sector, and I was... looking for Abnormal Psych with Mr. Hastings."

"I know where that class is, come I'll walk you."

"It's not necessary," Jungkook said, looking at the ground to avoid making eye contact.

"I insist. By the way I'm," you offered him your hand which he looked at hesitantly for a few seconds but didn't shake. You were a little hurt but didn't show it in your face "And you are?"

"Jeon Jungkook." His voice was lower than expected.

"Cute name. Come on Jeon Jungkook, I'll take you to your psych class." You offered once again and started walking without waiting for his answer.

Jungkook had half a mind to escape from the situation and hide. For all he knew, you could be luring him somewhere for your friends to bully him. Here's the thing: Jungkook couldn’t be bothered enough to indulge in college drama, but he also wasn’t living under a rock to not know who you were. To say that you were infamous around the whole campus would be an understatement.

He had heard many things about you and your little group of friends—from his brother, his friends, and even strangers—and none of it was good. If so many people had the same negative opinion about you, he couldn't help but believe that there might be some truth to it.

Jungkook could never comprehend why people still engaged with you if you were such an awful person with such an unpleasant personality. Why did they give you all the attention you so clearly wanted? Why not just ignore you and go on their merry way?

When he first saw you, though, he understood why. You were drop-dead gorgeous, and you carried yourself like you knew it. With just a look at you, he could tell that you were a bad influence, and he promised himself never to associate with you or any of your friends. He believed that being drawn into your circle would only lead to trouble.

"I think I've seen you somewhere." Jungkook thought, of course you don't remember him even after crossing paths several times. He doesn't think of himself as a memorable face anyway. "Wait, do we have any classes together?"

"A couple."

"Oh, right! You're in Mr. Aitken's Mesopotamian history class, aren't you?" Jungkook simply nodded in response. You took the opportunity to prolong the conversation, purposely opting for the longer route to the psychology building.

"Yes." He mumbled, not saying a single word more than he needs to answer you.

"Hey by the way I have psych too, but its with Mrs. Fields." You said, happy to find another common ground with him. "Is psych your major?"

"No. It's Chemistry."

You attempted to lighten the atmosphere with a playful comment, saying, "You definitely look like someone who'd take chemistry." But instead of taking it lightly, Jungkook seemed a bit offended by your remark.

"What does that mean?"

"You know, you look smart," you complimented, unaware that he was misinterpreting everything. All Jungkook heard was the possible hidden meaning behind your words. You were definitely calling him a nerd. And even if you were right, you had no right to say that.

You had no idea what to make of Jungkook's expression. It was the first time you'd miserably failed at flirting with a guy. Usually, by this point in the conversation, they'd be eating out of your hand, but Jungkook looked unaffected by your charms. He was looking anywhere but at you, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"Are you always this quiet?" You asked.

"I only talk to my friends." His answer was short and simple.

You finally reached in front of Mr. Hastings class and you suddenly felt a pang in your heart that your time was up with him.

"Here, it's your class."

Seeing the lecture hall door labeled 'GC24' and noticing the same numbers on the slip, Jungkook felt a sense of relief wash over him. He silently thanked his luck, relieved that you hadn't taken him somewhere with ill intentions to bully him, as he had initially thought.

"Thanks," Jungkook mumbled as he reached for the door handle, preparing to enter the lecture hall. Before he could step inside, your hand on his arm halted him. Your touch surprised him, and he turned to look at you with curiosity, unsure of what you might say or do next.

"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" You asked, looking up at him with a smile.

Jungkook panicked at your question. You wanted to have coffee with him? You wanted to have coffee with him? But why? Probably so that your little posse of friends can make fun of him.

"No thanks." Jungkook's rejection caught you off guard, and it was an unfamiliar feeling to be on the receiving end of such a response. Doubts crept into your mind as you wondered if he had misunderstood you or if there had been some miscommunication between you two.

"No, I'm asking you out on a date."

"I- I know," He said, "I don't want to."

Feeling beyond shock the only thing that left your mouth was "Why?"

"I don't date girls like you." And with that he quickly went inside the lecture room leaving a very shocked you outside.

*******

"Maybe he's gay," Jimin suggests passing you the rolled joint and you took it gladly. "And by 'girls like you' he meant girls in general."

"No, no, I'm pretty sure he meant girls like me. I'm sure, that idiot brother of his has said something about me." You said passing back the joint. "And now he thinks I'm a slut or something."

"I mean, where's the lie?" You could tell that Jay was pretty high right now, he only settles to throw mean comments at you when he's high. It was his own way of releasing his frustration and you never mind him.

"Shut up, Jay, before I kick you in the teeth." Jimin threatened him in your defense and you don't doubt that he would actually do it if needed.

"Babe, you have never cared what people think about you, why start now?" Jennie said as she lied down on the grass.

"I don't know, I still don't care what other people think but-"

"You know what? He was completely out of line to say that to you." Riley said and you shook your head.

"I guess if roles were reversed I wouldn't go out with me either. I don't really have the reputation of Mother Teresa on this campus."

"So what you gonna do now?"

"I say move on and fuck our TA Mark, he's like, crazy hot."

"I think I know what I'm gonna do."

*******

"The only reason I agreed to take psych was because we were taking it together. Now you want to switch to that old cranky man?" Jimin complained as you sat in the office to fill the forms to change classes.

"You are welcome to not join me."

"If you think that I can endure a lecture without you, then you're wrong."

"I know." You giggled kissing his cheek.

"Hmm 'reason', I wonder what I should write," Jimin mocked as he stared at the form and then you, "'My crazy best friend is obsessing over a nerd who clearly doesn't give two fucks about her'."

"Your crazy best friend wouldn't mind telling your hookups that you once had gonorrhea."

"I told you that in confidence." As the two of you continued to bicker you heard someone clear their throat and instantly looked up to see a woman in her late 40s, you've seen countless times but don't recall the name of.

"If you are done with the forms, you can give them to me,"

"Just a moment," you said with a smile as you proceeded to fill out the rest of the form. She shook her head as she looked you up and down, probably appalled by your scantily covered body in a lilac bralette that exposed the better part of your chest and midriff, and a white skirt so short that if you bent over, your ass could be seen. She took a few seconds to judge you and eventually returned to her desk.

"Did you sleep with her?" You asked in a hushed tone.

"What?! No, she's like... ancient."

Once you submitted the forms to Mrs.—shit, you forgot her name again—you made your way to the history building. It was almost time for Mr. Aitken's class. Although you typically wouldn't attend any class two days in a row, your newfound motivation had recently changed your mindset.

"Can we skip it today? Let's just go, smoke some weed, I got really good stuff from Taehyung."

"No, we are very behind on attendance."

"What are you talking about, we can still skip three more classes."

"No, Jimin."

"Is this about Jungkook again?" He sighed after reading your expression. "What is up with you? You've never put this much effort into fucking a guy."

"I know. He's just, interesting. And I want to put effort."

Upon entering the crowded lecture hall, almost every seat was occupied, and only a few vacant spots remained. While Jimin searched for a place to sit, your attention was captured by one person only—Jeon Jungkook—who was currently engrossed in scribbling something in his notebook. He was wearing glasses today, and it made him even more adorable than usual. All you wanted to do was drag him away from the class and kiss him.

As you heard your name being called, you turned to find a group of boys gathered around an empty seat, all of them gesturing toward it, signaling that the seat was available for you.

"Sit here, the view's perfect from here." You rolled your eyes and ignored them, walking up to the only boy you're interested in right now.

"In your dreams, Jared." You heard one of the boys say.

When you reached your destination, the entire class fell into silence, their eyes wide and curious as they watched you stand in front of Jungkook in the front row. But it seemed that Jeon Jungkook was completely absorbed in whatever he was scribbling in his notebook, paying no attention to you or the situation.

"Hey," when Jungkook lift his head to see who was talking to him his eyes widened. He was definitely not expecting to have a encounter with you two days in a row.

When you had asked Jungkook out (and he had said no), he believed that you did it merely as a joke, intending to mock him in front of your friends. What else would make someone like you ask someone like him out? You surely don't have any shortage of people falling at your feet, so that had to be the only reason why you asked him out, right?

When Jungkook rejected you, he was sure that would be the last of your encounters. He planned to make sure he never crossed your path again, which is why he deliberately sat in the front row today, knowing you and your friend always occupied the seats at the back.

Since yesterday, Jungkook couldn’t get you out of his mind. He despised you; he despised people like you—people who seemed to believe they had the authority to toy with others simply because of their popularity. On top of that, the negative things he had heard about you from his brother only added to the bad image you already had. According to everyone, you were the meanest girl in the whole college, and he just wished he could put you in your place.

He hated the way you smiled at him right now, so innocent, as if you weren’t the person people said you were. He believed your smile was fake, a mere façade to conceal your true intentions. Your ego must have been wounded by getting rejected by him of all people, and now you probably wanted revenge or something.

Undeterred by Jungkook's lack of response to your greeting, you pressed on and asked, "Is this seat taken?" You pointed to the seat beside him, even though it was clearly occupied by another girl, who looked alarmed by your question.

"Is it, sweetie?" Your next question wasn't to him but the girl, who just looked panicked and taken aback that you're even talking to her.

"N-No… You can sit here, __." The girl stammered nervously, quickly giving up her seat for you.

'Who do you think you are?' Jungkook wanted to snap at you very badly but looking at all your fans around the hall who were already glaring daggers at him, he stops himself.

"Thanks," you smiled sweetly at the girl and proceeded to sit in the seat. "Scooch," you told Jungkook, and he did so without saying anything. You then patted the seat on your other side, prompting your friend to come forward and take that seat, though not without rolling his eyes first.

As soon as you sat beside him, he caught a whiff of your scent. It was a very fruity smell, a mix of grapefruit and fresh oranges. You smelled rich, and it suited your personality very well.

Jungkook thanked the whole universe when Mr. Aitken finally walked in and started his lecture. Now he’d just have to get through this one hour somehow, by ignoring your presence. Jungkook thought you wouldn’t try to mess with him during the class, but boy, was he wrong.

"So? What happened yesterday? Why'd you run away?" You leaned closer to him and asked in a hushed tone. He tried to ignore you and moved closer to the boy next to him.

"Are you ignoring me, Jungkook?"

"Please, let me focus on the lecture." He says before noting down something in his notebook.

"Oh, look at you. You take notes, such a good boy." You giggled, and if it had been anyone else, Jungkook would admit that sound was incredibly cute. But on you, it was nothing but annoying. Once again, you were mocking him for being a nerd. "So? Did you have time to think about it? You wanna go out for coffee?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at him, but it seemed to have no effect on him.

"No. Now please let me study."

"You have pretty hands," you remarked, tracing circles on the back of his palm. But Jungkook chose to ignore your comment once again. "If you don't want to get coffee, we can go to the movies or something, or do whatever you like."

"What do you want from me?" He asked, clearly annoyed by your behavior.

"I want to get to know you." Your words made him snap his head to look at you. The way you smiled at him seemed genuine, like you actually meant what you just said. Once again, Jungkook couldn't help but notice your beauty. Your lips were a shade of pink, glossy, and looked very plump. Your eyes were big and innocent, as if you hadn't broken all of those hearts. Before he could silently compliment more of your features, he suddenly remembered what Wonwoo had said to him.

"She is the meanest girl in this college, Guk. You don't want to associate with the likes of her. She and her friends bully people to have fun."

"I don't want to do anything."

"Why?"

"I just don't."

For a second, you looked truly hurt by Jungkook, and he realized he didn’t like that look on your face for some reason.

"If you don't want to go on a date, we can just hang out here on campus," you suggested again. This time, instead of saying anything, Jungkook just sat there silently.

You didn’t look away, though. Your eyes were fixed on him with that pretty little smile on your face, and Jungkook started feeling self-conscious under your gaze.

Do you look at everyone like this? Like you're looking at him right now? Like you're scrutinizing every minute detail of his face?

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're very pretty?" Jungkook's whole body heated up as he heard your compliment, unable to control the blush that spread across his face. "Are your glasses prescribed?"

The remainder of the class passed with Jungkook doing his best to avoid your presence, while you continued shamelessly staring at him from the front row. He wondered why the professor hadn't called you out on your behavior yet. Maybe this whole college was biased toward popular kids.

As soon as the hour was up and the bell rang, Jungkook was the first to swiftly get up, eager to make his escape. The intensity of your gaze was becoming overwhelming, and he felt as though he might burst into flames if he stayed any longer. Your presence was growing more intense with every passing second.

When you saw Jungkook hastily gather his belongings and rush out of the hall without even sparing another glance at you, you grabbed your bag, which you hadn’t even bothered to open yet, and ran after him, ignoring the calls of your name behind you from Jimin. This time, thankfully, you didn’t lose him in the crowd.

When you caught up to him, Jungkook was a little surprised to see you, not expecting you to follow him even after class.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

"We're hanging out."

"I never said yes to that."

"You never said no either." You said following him. "Why are you so scared of me, Jungkook?" You sound honestly curious about the question.

"I'm-I'm not scared."

"Then do you talk to everyone like that?" Ignoring your comment, Jungkook continued walking in a familiar direction.

"Where are we going?"

"Central Library." Jungkook doesn't know why he keeps answering you, it's like the words fall out before he can stop himself.

"Why? We just had a class," you whined a little. "Let's go to that gazebo behind the literature department." Jungkook doesn't have to know that it was a popular spot for people to make out. But it seemed that your suggestion fell on deaf ears, as you found yourself following Jungkook into the library without getting any response from him.

"I want to study for the next class."

As Jungkook walked alongside you, he couldn't help but notice all the attention the two of you were receiving on your way to the library. It made him wonder if you were equally affected by the curious stares, or if you had grown so accustomed to such attention that it didn’t faze you anymore.

Not wanting to be in the spotlight any longer, Jungkook led himself—and involuntarily, you—to seats in a less conspicuous area, hidden from the prying eyes of most people. Luckily, the seats there were unoccupied, with only two girls sitting at the table across from you, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

"Do you spend all of your free time in the library?" You questioned as you settled on the seat beside him, a little too close for his liking. Your body was halfway turned toward him, and his eyes couldn't help it travel a little further south from your face. Jungkook thought that you had to know what you were doing; there was no way it was unintentional. 

Deciding to ignore your presence altogether, Jungkook took out his earphones and plugged them in his mobile, resuming the playlist he was listening to the night before. And apparently you took it as an invitation to take one of the earplugs and put it in your own ear. 

When you started humming to the music and singing somewhat broken lyrics to 'wasted years' along with Bruce Dickinson, it left Jungkook quiet stunned.

"You-you listen to heavy metal?" Jungkook asked with a raised eyebrow and you once again give him that smile of yours that seemed very dangerous.

"Sometimes, mostly Iron Maiden. Why? Can't I?"

"No-no, it's just, you- you don't seem like someone who'd... listen to heavy metal."

"Yeah? Then what do I seem like?" Your question caught him off guard and his eyes travelled to your lips. Still sitting too close to him, Jungkook could almost feel the warmth emitting from your body and it left him feeling a little strange, he couldn't decide if the feeling was the good or the bad kind.

You on the other hand almost did a victory dance in your head when you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips a little longer. You didn't make any further moves, knowing he might get uncomfortable and that's the last thing you want.

"I don't kn-know."

You heard the quiet sigh he let out in relief when your phone started buzzing in your hand, alerting you of text messages. Silently cussing at whoever it was, you turned on your phone to see the SMS.

Dooly 🐣 : Where the fuck did you go you rat?

Dooly 🐣 : You always do this bitch. And I always wait for you after class 🤡 🤡

You : I'm so sorry Chimmy. I'm with Jungkook.

Dooly 🐣 : You're with Jungkook 🥵?

You : Lol no. I wish tho 🤤🤤

You : we're just hangin in the Library 🙃.

Dooly 🐣: did your phone autocorrect sucking dick for 'hangin in the library' ? 🥴

You : stawppp bitch. We ain't doing anything. Just hangin.

Dooly : You ditched me to just hang in the library? Not cool 🙅🏻. Hope he never gives you dick.

You : Don't say that 🥹. I'm sorry.

Dooly 🐣: Whatever, dude. I'm smoking the good weed all by myself 😏😏

You : Don't say that 🥺🥺.... I'll make it up to you. Do you want a nude?

You didn't get a reply after that, so you reverted your attention to Jungkook who was already engrossed in his laptop. A smile automatically found its way to your lips when you saw how his brows furrow in concentration and his lips were already making a small pout.

You decided not to disturb him and settled for admiring him silently.

*******

'Baby, you want more?' Your voice was nothing but a sweet melody as you whispered in Jungkook's ear. Your hips are moving in a circular motion. Your cunt bare and wet as it rubbed against his cock.

All he could do in response was moan a loud 'yes' . Jungkook felt like he was in heaven. Your tits were bare and glistening with sweat as they bounced in his face. He could just reach out and suckle on them but he couldn't for some reason.

'Come on, baby boy. Touch me.' You demanded. Your voice was lower and you were moaning. 'Touch me, Jungkook. I'm all yours.' The way you said his name made him want to cum all over you. Paint you all white.

'I can't.' Jungkook said in frustration. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't reach out to grab those beautiful mounds of flesh. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to touch you, kiss you, please you.

'It's ok, baby boy. I can do all the work.' The second your wet pussy sank down on his hard as rock-penis was the second Jungkook lost it all. He moaned out your name like chants. Your hands tugged on his hair as you jumped up and down on his cock. Your head rolled back, revealing your beautiful neck which he just wanted to take a bite out of.

'I'm cumming, that's it, baby boy. You're about to make me cum.'

Jungkook immediately jolted awake. He was panting and his breath was irregular. What the hell did he just see in his dream?

He threw the covers off of him when he realized he was sweating excessively. His whole body was on fire and his mind couldn't comprehend the dream. He took a moment to realize that he just dreamt of you riding him. Not only were you riding him but he was making you cum as well.

Was it because you were the only thing that he had thought about the whole evening? It wasn't his fault that all he could think about was you. You were the one following him around the whole day in that little outfit that did nothing to cover your body.

Jungkook's cock was achingly hard. It was throbbing. When he looked down he could see it practically poking its way out of his sweatpants.

He has never felt this turned on before, not even when he watches his favorite genre of porn. Not even when Vivian Sue, his first girlfriend touched him down there for the first time when he was 16. But just a dream of you had him practically heaving.

He laid still for a few seconds, waiting for the boner to go down because there was no way he was going to give in to you so easily, he can't let you affect him like that. He has to fight his boner.

'Let's think of something disgusting.' Jungkook thinks to himself, 'Mingyu's feet. Yugyeom's sweaty hands. Dead dogs. Uncooked chicken. Your tits, your tits, your tits.'

Jungkook let out a groan in frustration. Fuck why was it so hard.

"Fuck it." Jungkook mumbles under his breath before taking out his throbbing cock from the restraint of his sweatpants. A soft involuntary moan left his mouth when his hands came into contact with the angry tip of his cock. He sighed in relief.

His hands slowly started rubbing his cock up and down. Thumb spreading the precum to make it easier for his fist to slide of the member.

He should think about something else, you're a person and it's unfair to masturbate to you. Specially when he has no sexual relationship with you. It was just wrong but he couldn't think of something else.

The image of your tits bouncing was still fresh in his head. The way your plump lips spread wide open to moan out his name, calling him 'baby boy'. The way you arched your back in pleasure as you rode him, your shiny pussy lips gliding up and down his cock. The images were all too clear in his head and once again you were all he could think of.

Your name left his mouth as moans and he thanked god his flat-mate was not home tonight to hear him through the thin walls. He was moaning your name pretty loudly and there was no way Caleb wouldn't hear it if he was home.

Soon enough Jungkook was pumping his cock in a rapid speed. All to the thoughts of you doing vile things in his head. He couldn't help but think if you would actually feel as good as you did in his dreams. If your pussy was actually so tight that it would suck his cock in.

When Jungkook finally came down from his high he could see white, literally and figuratively. He felt lightheaded. He had never cum so much, so fast. His seeds were all over his sheets and some on his own stomach.

He felt guilty. Disgusted in himself. Jungkook can't believe he did that to you. Specially when he promised himself and his brother that he would never let himself get attracted to you.

He hoped to god not to run in to you the next day, because there was no way he could face you now after what he just did.

*******

"How dare you not tell us, Guk?" It was Mingyu's voice behind Jungkook that stopped him from walking any further into the campus.

He turned around and looked at his best friends in confusion. They didn't look angry or upset, they just looked shocked.

He racked his brain while they walked up to him but couldn't find a reason as to why they would react like this.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"You were ASKED OUT by THE __ ___. Are you KIDDING ME?" Yugyeom partially yelled on his face and before Jungkook could answer they bombarded him with a series of questions.

"Did you fuck her? Is it true? Does she really have nipple piercings?"

"How many times did she let you hit?"

"Does she really suck at giving head?"

As Jungkook's friends questioned him, he felt an inner discomfort building up. He didn't appreciate their probing and, surprisingly moreover, he realized he didn't like the way they were talking about you. A strange urge welled up inside him, compelling him to defend you behind your back. For the first time, he felt the strong feeling of hate towards his own friends because of the way they were speaking of you.

Even though none of it was new to Jungkook, he had heard people talking about you like that before, even worse, but it never mattered to him. He never raised an eyebrow when people called you names, said crude things about you. He never called them out when they said things as if you were not a person but an object that everyone wanted to play with. But now, hearing these things made him angry at his own friends.

"Don't talk about her like that." Jungkook simply said.

"Woah... Bro you're whipped already, is her pussy that good?"

"I said don't talk about her like that. And we never did anything, I said no when she asked me out." There was a sudden pregnancy pause as both of his best friends looked at him in confusion.

"What?" Mingyu asked as if Jungkook was speaking some foreign language.

"I said I turned her down."

"I'm sorry, did you hit your head when you were a kid?" Yugyeom scoffed unbelievingly.

"What do you mean you turned her down? When she asks you out you don't say no, you bend on your knees and you ask her when and where."

"I don't have time for this, I have class." Jungkook resumed towards his path after rolling his eyes at his friends, ignoring their comments about how he has to be lying and if he really did say no to you then he's an idiot.

Jungkook doesn't understand the strange feelings swirling within him. Up until recently he was so sure that he absolutely hated you, hated everything you stand for, specially your nasty personality. Yet, the strong feeling of wanting to protect and defend you now confuses him. Why does he want to scream at his friends right now? Why does the mention of your name makes him feel jittery?

For the second time that morning Jungkook was interrupted on his way by somebody calling his name.

"Jungkook!" The voice called again but this time it was closer. He turned in just in time to see you run towards him in yet another one of your tiny outfits. Your clothes today covered more surface than the previous day, at least your denim skirt was a little longer and your breast weren't about to spill out of your little pink top with tiny strawberry prints.

"Hi." As you stood in front of him, his heart thumped against his chest. His dream from last night was still very vivid in his head. The images of you had engraved themselves in his brain and his whole body heated up with embarrassment and guilt when he remembers how he was so far gone into the lust that he shamelessly masturbated to you.

There were two similar to go cups in either of your hands, one filled with green and other with pink. Jungkook wonders what you were doing at this part of the campus when your classes were all the way over to the other side. Did you come all the way over here only to meet him? You wouldn't would you?

"Here, I got you strawberry Boba tea." You handed him the cup as you sipped on your own matcha.

"How do you-"

"I saw you order this in the café, the other day."

"What are you doing here? You don't have any classes here." He said a little shyly. The blush on his face was very evident although you might not know the reason behind it and he would like to keep it that way.

"Yeah, my classes start after 12. I thought I'll just hangout with you." You replied batting your eyelashes at him. "Won't you introduce me to your friends, Jungkook?" At your question Jungkook remembers that he was not alone right now and turned to look at the said friends, only to find them shamelessly staring at you with their mouth practically hung open as if they were meeting a celebrity or something. They both looked a little starstruck by you right now. You go to the same college as they do, what's the big deal?

"We know you." The tallest one out of the three said instantly and you raised your eyebrows at him. Jungkook wanted to scoff at their reactions.

Now you're aware that you're pretty famous (or infamous) around your college but you thought it was mostly in your department or the departments surrounding yours. You never knew you were also known all to the other side of the campus. Or perhaps Jungkook has talked about you with his friends? The thought alone made you want to giggle like a stupid teenager.

"You do?" You asked with a confused smile.

"Yeah we follow you on Instagram, I'm Yugyeom by the way."

"I'm Mingyu, we're Jungkook's friends."

"Oh, Hi. Nice to meet you guys." You said in that sweet voice of yours that Jungkook finds really obnoxious.

"Jungkook has class right now, if you want, you can hangout with us?" Mingyu suggested with a shy smile and before you could answer you felt a tug in your hand.

"It's fine guys, she has to get back to her department." With that Jungkook was dragging you out of there and you waved goodbye to his friends.

"What happened?" You asked with a little smirk as the boy gently dragged you along. You wonder if there was a chance that Jungkook was suddenly jealous of you talking to his friends.

In Jungkook's head he was doing you a favour. There was no way in hell he was going to let you alone with his friends after he just heard the way they talked about you. He was aware that you were very much capable of protecting or defending yourself. But just the thought of you spending time with his friends and them taking it as a signal sends chills down his spine.

"Jungkook, stop." He did as he was told and released your hand. "What happened? Why do you look mad?"

There's no need for you to know the actual reason behind why he's mad.

"Why did you come here?"

"I thought we could hang out."

"You don't have to. And you certainly don't have to bring me this." He said holding up the cup of pink bubble tea.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want anything to do with you."

"Are we seriously back to square one? I thought we bonded yesterday."

"I don't know what- what made you think that."

"I promise I won't bother you. Please, if I annoy you, you can tell me and I'll go away." Jungkook sighed at your proposal but didn't say anything and started walking towards his class. You happily took that as a hint to follow him.

*******

"Oh look, it's the girl who has given up all her dignity for a boy."

"Shut up, Jimin." you said as you sat down at the your usual spot, in the café beside your best friend.

"No, you don't get to be mad at me. I am mad at you. You've been ditching me all week."

"I'm sorry." Jimin rolled his eyes at your apology, mostly because it didn't seem sincere.

Thankfully the café this time of the day always seem pretty empty because crowd was the last thing you needed right now, it was only occupied by your group and some other people.

Even half of your group was missing, only Jimin and Hobi were there when you came in.

"You're still chasing that Jungkook guy?" Hosoek asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." It was you best friend who had decided to answer on behalf of you.

"Wow, I've never seen you this desperate for dick."

"It's not just about that, Ok?" You snapped. "I mean, I don't even care if I don't get to have sex with him. I just... I don't know what it is, I guess I like him or something."

Both your friends look astound at your revelation. In fact you yourself was kind of amazed at what you said, never realizing it before the words left your mouth.

The last time you had romantic feelings for someone, he broke your heart and moved away from the city. Saying that he never intended to continue this relationship after graduating. That's why you dreaded having any sort of romantic relationship after that. The heartbreak was just too much and so not worth it.

You promised yourself that you'll only stick to sexual relationships from now on, no strings attached, that's until Jungkook came along. At first you thought it was just because he said no to you and you took it as a challenge. But that was not it. He made you feel different, he made you want to spend time with him even if you don't get any orgasms out of it.

That day when you spent time with him in the library you realized you liked looking at Jungkook's face. It gives you joy, no conversations need to take place and you would still enjoy his company.

Jimin was instantly by your side, forgetting the fact that he was supposedly mad at you. "Oh my god, you actually like him. That's the face you made when you told me about Yoongi."

"Really?"

"Wait, I thought we weren't suppose to talk about him."

"You can talk about him, Hobi. I've moved on," You assured your other friend before getting back to the previous topic. "And I guess I do, I just spent an hour with him in his chemistry lecture and I actually didn't mind because I got to be with him."

"Oh my god this is huge."

"No, its not that huge."

"It is kinda huge." You rolled your eyes before steeling Hoseok's muffin.

"Anyway, are you still mad at me?"

"NO. I thought you were ditching for dick, I didn't know you were in love with him." Jimin said with a smile.

"Shut up, I'm not in love."

The next five minutes went by you trying to convince your best friends that you're not in love and them teasing you about it.

"Hey guys, what are you talking about?"

"Joon." you instantly stood up to greet your friend with a tight hug. "Where's Jennie?"

"In class, we're supposed to meet here." he replied sitting in the empty chair beside the couch.

"We were talking about her new crush." said Hoseok making you glare at him.

"Oh right, Jennie told me about Jungkook."

"Of course she did, when has she ever been able to shut her mouth."

"In her defense, she kept her mouth shut for three whole days after she found out."

You met Namjoon through Yoongi, they were both in the swim team and as the girlfriend of the captain you became a part of their friend group by default. Namjoon was the sweetest jock you have ever seen. Even after you and Yoongi broke up Namjoon stayed friends with you, and you heard through his friends that he even scolded Yoongi for you. One day when you saw Namjoon drooling over one of your best friends you introduced them both and one year later they're still dating.

"Are you guys going to Rick Miller party this weekend?"

"I don't know. They never has the good boo-" Jimin started but a light bulb went off in your head.

"Yes we are." You replied.

"We are?" Jimin asked you'

"Yes, now Namjoon," you started turning to face your friend with glinting eyes. "I heard you're still friends with Won-woo."

"Oh no, I don't like where you're going with this." Namjoon shook his head.

"Just hear me out."

"OK fine. Yes we're still friends."

"Then you could convince him to bring Jungkook to the party?"

"I don't know, __, I don't think I should meddle, and if he finds-"

"Joonie, please?" You gave him the puppy eyes that works on almost everyone, key word- almost. "Don't forget I introduced you to your pretty girlfriend."

"Are you gonna hang that over my head forever?"

"Pretty much."

"What are you gonna do anyway? And I don't know if you can tell but Kook's not really the party type of guy."

"I don't know, I haven't figured that yet. But if he sees me outside of college then maybe he'll actually talk to me." It seemed that your words didn't convince any of your friends. "Look just please try, I'll owe you one."

"Fine. But I can't promise anything."

*******

Jungkook's eyes goes back and forth from the mobile in his hand and to the thick white liquidy substance all over his sheets.

The picture displayed on his phone was one of your recent pictures you've uploaded on Instagram. It was a picture of you laying on a beach towel, sunbathing, it was nothing scandalous, just a simple picture of you in a bathing suit.

He closes his eyes out of shame. This was the third day in a row that Jungkook had masturbated to you and he has never felt so ashamed of himself, he felt like he was objectifying you and it was very wrong.

He quickly takes a Kleenex from the nightstand and wipes himself clean. It wasn't like he hadn't tried other things, he had. He tried watching porn, hentai, anything that would keep him going but unfortunately it was only you that made him hard anymore.

Jungkook then carefully tucks his still sensitive cock back in his sweatpants and laid back down in his bed. It was 10:00 on a Saturday morning and he was just so glad that at least he wouldn't have to face you for two days. He was going to spend these two days doing anything that would get his mind off you.

Your picture was still open on the screen of his phone and it compelled him to scroll further. It seemed that you were pretty popular on Instagram, and you didn't even post anything other than photos of yourself and sometimes your friends.

His thumb stopped scrolling when it came across a particular selfie. You were making a cute face at the camera and you were clearly sitting on a guy's lap whose face could not be seen. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck, only silver hair visible. Jungkook's eyes narrowed in on the picture, taking notice of every single detail. Was it somebody you dated in the past? Or was it just one of your friends? You do seem awfully close to your friends.

He felt a weird pang in his chest looking at the picture. It wasn't an old picture at least it was uploaded recently, only 6 days ago to be exact. And if you were already seeing someone why would you approach him and ask him out on a date?

Overwhelmed by his sudden feelings, Jungkook shut his phone and threw it against his mattress. C'mon JK, you need to stop thinking about her.

To pull him out of his thoughts filled with you, the doorbell of his apartment rang twice. Jungkook waited on his bed thinking his roommate could open the door, it's not like he himself gets any visitors anyway.

The doorbell rang again and he stood up from his bed, a little annoyed because he was planning to spend a few more hours in bed.

"Hyung?" The sight of Wonwoo behind the door surprised Jungkook a little. His brother has visited his apartment only twice, once when he was looking for an apartment and once when he helped him move in, that's it. So seeing him on his doorstep all of a sudden surprised him.

"Hey, Guk. What's up?" Jungkook opens the door wide enough to welcome him in and shuts the door behind them. There was not much age difference between the two Jeons, Wonwoo was only a little more than a year older than Jungkook. But Wonwoo always treated Jungkook like a kid, and not in a good way. At first it was endearing when Jungkook was actually a kid, but now it was just annoying.

"What are you doing here, Hyung?"

"Yah, can't I visit my brother? Eomma called this morning, she said you're not picking up her calls," Oh right, there was a reason Jungkook wasn't picking up his mother's calls and he wasn't proud of it. "I was around here so I thought I'd see what you're up to."

"Yeah, I was going to call her back. I was doing... something." At the suspicious raised eyebrow given to him by his brother he came up with an better excuse. "Working out. I was working out." Wonwoo doesn't need to know that he just spent an entire morning dreaming of you and touching himself.

"Working out huh? I see you've already built some muscles, little Kookie." There it was again, the condescending tone and the 'little Kookie' like he was some damn kid learning how to ride a bike.

"Is there something else you want, Hyung?" Jungkook asked politely. Yes Jungkook hated him time to time but it was still his older brother and he respected him.

"Nah, now that I know you're not dead, I can go back."

"Ok. I'll call Eomma and let her know you stopped by."

As Wonwoo was in front of the door ready to leave he stopped in his tracks and turned around.

"Hey, Gguk,"

"Yeah?"

"There's a party tonight at one of my teammates place, umm do you wanna go with me and the boys?" Jungkook was almost shocked at his question. He was always under the impression that his brother was somewhat embarrassed of his nerd younger brother, and now he wants him to come to a party with him and 'the boys'?

"What?" He asked as if the question wasn't clear to him.

"Namjoon suggested that you could do some socializing. And this party is just perfect, everyone goes every semester, even students from your department. And it's also not THAT wild."

"I don't know, Hyung. I'm not really a party person."

"I know. That's what I said. But he's right, a little socializing never hurts anyone. And if it's too much for you, you can always come back."

"I'll think about it."

"Ok, bro. Let me know whenever you change your mind."

*******

You can't recall the last instance you felt this thrilled about a college party. Yes they were fun and you got to get high and drunk with your friends and then you'd find a hot guy and sleep with him, but it was all becoming monotonous now. The same shit all the time. But this time it was different, there was a possibility that Jungkook could be there and that made you...excited?

You also can't remember the last time you went to a party and didn't get high right away.

"So what did Wonwoo say? Will he bring Jungkook?" You asked Namjoon who was sitting across from you on a chair with his girlfriends on his lap.

"Babe, its not even 11 yet, give 'em some time." Jimin said offering you the joint which you refused with a shake of your head.

You were currently sitting on Jimin's lap because you don't trust any furniture in these frat houses. God knows who has been there and done what. It has become a regular occurrence now. Whenever you went to these parties your only seat was your friend's lap, because these dresses ain't cheap.

"Wait, did you dress up all pretty for him?" asked Jennie, sipping that fruit punch that was spiked so many times with different alcohols that you were sure it was poisonous now. Instead of going for the 'hot girl' look tonight you decided to wear something that would make you look 'beautiful'.

The anticipation of Jungkook's arrival tonight was gradually diminishing. Positioned where you were, you had a clear view of the front door, yet there was no sign of Jungkook or his brother. Just as you were about to turn to Jimin to express your disappointment once more, a familiar tuft of fluffy hair caught your attention.

Your face instantly lit up at the sight of the boy. And of course Jungkook looked as cute as always if not more. You notice how he was wearing a black dress shirt and gray pants instead of his usual oversized tees and trousers.

"Should I go over right now or should I wait?" You asked your friends and they turned to look at the boy.

"I say wait at least 20 minutes. You don't wanna look desperate."

"Hobi, I've been following the guy for days. I don't think one can look any more desperate than that."

"True."

"I should go ask him for a drink."

"I'm pretty sure there's no bubble tea here." Jimin commented making the rest of the circle laugh.

"Ha ha, very funny. Suck a dick."

Jungkook looked very out of the place when you walked up to him. He didn't notice you until you were right in front of him.

"Hi, I didn't know you'd be here."

On the other hand, Jungkook wasn't particularly surprised to find you here. In fact, while getting ready, he had imagined the possibility of encountering you at least twenty times, playing out scenarios in his head about how he would react and what he would say. His gaze subtly traced over your figure, clad in a white glittery dress with a sweetheart neckline.

"You look handsome," you complimented him, noting the slight flush that colored his cheeks. It was the first time you had really taken notice of his muscular arms. Those t-shirts he typically wore to college certainly didn't do justice to his physique at all.

'You-You look pretty, as well."

"You think so?" you asked, giggling. You've always been aware that you're quite attractive; confidence has always been your strong suit. However, hearing the words coming from Jungkook—the boy who had never even acknowledged you—gave you a whole new sense of conviction.

"Yes."

"Thanks. Are you here with someone?"

"Umm, yes, my- my brother was suppose to meet me here."

"Maybe I can wait with you until you find him?"

"No, its ok. You should get back to your friends."

"No, please. Let me?" Jungkook couldn't quite pinpoint the reason—whether it was the fact that you were meeting outside of college, the way you looked, or the guilt that Jungkook couldn't shake off—but when you asked with that look on your face, he couldn't say no. "Okay, Kook, let's go get you some drinks," you said, taking the lead.

As you held his hand and pulled him further inside the house, it sent shivers throughout his body. Jungkook still couldn't believe that someone like you would actually take the time to entertain him, especially right now when you could just be with your friends and enjoy your time.

"You're okay with alcohol, right?" you asked, turning to face Jungkook as you both stood in front of a large table filled with all kinds of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. With so many people surrounding the table, the gap between your back and his chest was practically nonexistent.

"Yeah, but. Nothing too strong."

"The fruit punch is out of question then." Jungkook looked at the big glass jar that looked too pink to be consumable. "I'm gonna make you a __ special."

"A __ special? What's that?"

"A few months ago I accidently made this cocktail and it tastes amazing. You're gonna love it." You said already looking for the ingredients.

"What's in it?"

"Mostly Pineapple juice and tequila, but there's my secret ingredient, that I've never told anyone." You said, pouring the pineapple juice in the red cup. "Its actually red-bull, but promise me you'll never tell anyone." You handed him your invention proudly and he couldn't help but smile at the evident excitement on your face.

"Ok." He said, sniffing the liquid before taking a sip.

"How is it?" Horrible, it was horrible, Jungkook has never tasted anything this bad in his entire life. But that smile on your face, Jungkook could never let down that smile on your face.

"Its good."

"Right?" You said, making a drink for yourself, well, just pouring neat vodka in a cup.

"Do you go to college parties regularly?"

"Well, the first two years I did. But then it became boring, so we only attend sometimes, when we have nothing else to do."

"This is actually my first time." he admitted and it made you smile that he was finally talking to you without stuttering.

"Yeah? What made you come to this one."

"My hyun- my brother said it would be good for me to socialize a little."

"I hope you're not regretting your decision so far."

"I'm- I'm not."

Silence enveloped both of you for the next few seconds, neither knowing what to say next. You had been so focused all this time on getting Jungkook to talk to you that you hadn't considered what you would talk about if you actually had a conversation. You and Jungkook had almost nothing in common.

Jungkook, on the other hand, remained skeptical about the whole situation. Ok, there might be a slight chance that you weren't orchestrating all of this to make fun of him with your friends and that you genuinely wanted to get to know him. But did that mean that everything he had ever heard about you was a lie? Or were you just putting up a front?

"Its really noisy in here, would you like to go to the backyard or something?" you asked in hopes of getting some alone time with the boy in front of you.

"Umm, I'm not sure, my brother would be looking for me." The entire world knows by now that Jungkook's brother will not give two damns if he got lost in this party but he's already done enough socializing for one day.

"Oh come on, Jungkook. I promise I won't try anything funny." the younger boy almost chuckled at the look on your face.

"Okay, I guess it won't hurt anyone." you did a little victory dance in your head before holding his hand in your unoccupied one and dragging him out of the now crowded house.

*******

"No way, you watch Anime?" after a few minutes of awkwardly walking around in the garden Jungkook and you finally fell into a conversation, although his sentences still don't consist of many words you counted this as a win.

"Yes, why is it so hard for you to believe that I watch anime and listen to heavy metal?"

"I don't know...y-you just don't seem like the type."

Jungkook had constructed a specific image of you in his mind based on all the things he had heard from his brother, friends, and people in general. So far, none of the things you had revealed about yourself fit into that image at all.

From everything Jungkook had heard, you didn't seem like the type of person to enjoy heavy metal or comic books, or engage in anything even remotely described as nerdy or boring. You were supposed to be this big mean girl who burned everything that came into contact with her; you weren't supposed to be approachable or relatable.

"What type do I seem like then?" You asked with genuine curiosity in your eyes, you were not offended that he dared to assume shit about you, you just wanted to see yourself from his eyes.

"Someone who would... laugh at my face if I tell her how much I love comic books."

"What? Why would I do that?" you asked with a laugh that made your eyes go small and cheeks fluffier. Jungkook swear he has not heard a prettier laughter. "You know what, if you get to-" Before you could complete your sentence you were cut off by the loud noise of your drunk 'Friend'.

"Oh, there she is," Jay stumbled on his way to you. When he reached you two you saw Jungkook visibly cringe at how much he stank of alcohol and weed.

"What do you want, Jay?" It wasn't really new for him to get crazy drunk at parties and approach you, but what really annoyed you was him interrupting the moment between you and Jungkook.

"Oh you are with the nerd." His eyes went to Jungkook who was looking at him with his doe eyes. "So did you finally have him? Are you bored yet?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Jay? Leave us alone."

"Us? There is an 'us'?" he asking pointing his finger at you and Jungkook.

"Its none of your business."

"You? You seriously think you can change this slut? You fucking nerd, she's just gonna use you and throw you away like a tissue, you are nothing, literally nothing." He was now talking to Jungkook and standing too close to him for his comfort. You eyes were widening at his words.

"Jay what the fuck is wrong with you, get the fuck away from him." You had successfully pulled him enough away from Jungkook to get yourself in the middle. "I swear to god, you are going to regret this tomorrow so walk away."

"Or what? Your lap dog will come after me? Tell me do you let Jimin fuck you for all the service he does?" You were now absolutely disgusted with his words.

You looked back at Jungkook and saw him backing away, his eyes were on the ground, his face mimic the disgusted look on yours, you just don't know if it was for you or Jay.

"Jungkook, please don't listen to him, he's drunk and-"

"I-I'm, I'm just, I'm gonna head back. I'll see—" Without completing his sentence, Jungkook rushed back inside the house, presumably to leave through the front door.

"You FUCKING IDIOT, I swear to god if you ever come near me I'll fuck you up, I hate you. Do you not understand that I do not want you. Can't you get that through that thick skull of yours?" after ranting you quickly rushed after Jungkook not noticing the other man looking at you as if you just ruined his night and not the other way around.

"Jungkook stop," you called out guiding yourself through the sweaty bodies dancing and grinding and what not. "Please, just listen to me."

Taking advantage of his long legs and large steps, Jungkook was almost out of the front door and out of your sight. Just as you were about to cross the threshold, somebody threw a whole glass of fruit punch all over you.

"Oh my god, I'm sooo sorry-" You looked as the girl in front of you and if you were not in such a hurry you would bring another glass just to pour it down her head.

"It's okay." When you were out on the front yard, Jungkook was no where to be seen. You sighed in frustration, Jungkook was finally opening up to you and that rat just had to ruin-

"What happened to your dress?" Came a soft voice.

"You didn't leave yet." You smiled in relief.

"I was about to, I just- thought I should check on you first. He seemed pretty drunk."

"Look Jungkook, whatever he said, I'm very sorry about it. He shouldn't said that about you-"

"And what about you?"

"Huh?"

"He said worse things about you."

"Well... I'm pretty sure you have heard that before about me."

"I did. A lot."

"Look what he said to you was way out of line and I'm just so mad at him-"

"And why are you not mad at him for what he said about you?" His question confused you a lot.

"Because I'm used to it."

"Why?"

"I-I don't know. Jungkook, I know you are mad at what he said, but I swear to god, its not like that with you, I'm not-"

"I am, I am mad at what he said but not about me, I am mad at what he said about you and I am more mad that you let him."

"It's nothing, I don't really care."

"You should," he said calmly, "you should care, if you're really not what people say then you should stand up for yourself." with that he turned around to walk away from the house.

"Wait," he turned around. "Are you really going to leave me here like this? I am drenched."

******

Jungkook's room was cute, just like him—warm and cozy. Surprisingly, it was cleaner than what you expected a guy's room to be, except for a few pieces of clothes thrown over his gaming chair.

"Here, you can change into this?" Jungkook said handing you a big black t-shirt of his and his boxer briefs.

It was safe to say that Jungkook was completely freaking out right now. He had never had a girl at his place, and now he not only had 'any' girl but you roaming around in his room with your delicate feet in that tiny pink-stained white dress of yours.

"Can I use the shower?" you asked and he pointed to the brown door behind you.

As soon as you were behind the door he let out a loud breath that he was holding in ever since you started following him to his place.

When he was going out tonight he was only supposed to stay for 10-15 minutes and comeback to finish his paused video game. He had no intention whatsoever to bring a girl back let alone you out of all people.

Its not that Jungkook hates the idea of you in his shower, naked. Its that even the idea of it makes him all hot and bothered.

Jungkook looks back to the time 20 minutes ago, he could have booked you a cab for your own place but when you looked all innocent and helpless he couldn't help but utter those four words.

"Are you really going to leave me here like this? I am drenched."

"I live near by."

And that is how you ended up naked in his bathroom. Just a wooden door away.

Looking around his room, he quickly made sure there was no embarrassing thing left on any surface. With his shaking hands, he tidied up his room a little, stuffing everything in his closet— it was now future Jungkook's problem. However, Jungkook's immediate concern was the very visible tent in his gray pants.

Dammit, when did he get a hard on? Was it the thought of you naked in his bathroom, or was it your clearly very wet dress, or was it when you asked him if you could shower, or was it when he first saw you in this evening.

Maybe if he changed into some loose sweatpants, it wouldn't be very noticeable, so he did. Without taking a shower or cleaning himself of tonight's chaos, he quickly changed into his black sweatpants and a t-shirt similar to the one he gave you.

You couldn't believe you were inside Jungkook's shower, you personally thought that showers were a little too intimate, you have never showered at any of your hookup's place. In fact the last time you used a man's shower was when you were with Yoongi.

Now here you were in Jungkook's bathroom, looking at one of the most private parts of his life. The kind of shower gel he uses, the color of his toothbrush everything was too intimate and left you feeling giddy in your stomach. Not to mention you were wearing his clothes.

His t-shirt was too loose on you, your shoulders were tiny compared to his broad once, t-shirt was almost falling below your mid thigh whereas his hips were so petite that his boxers were a little tight on you.

You took a palm full of cold water and threw it on your face in hopes that your cheeks would cool down a little. Once you opened the door and went outside you saw Jungkook in different clothes sitting on his bed with two bowls in his hands.

When the boy looked up at you, you could see his cheeks visibly flush red. If only you could read his mind you would know how much in awe he was right now.

Jungkook had always known that you were pretty, it was no secret from the whole world, people simped after you for a reason. But right now, in his clothes, with your face bare of any makeup you were absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous.

"I- ummm... I heat up some pasta from lunch... hope you don't mind leftovers." His voice was once again too small. Like he lost all the confidence you saw back there in the party.

"No, Thank you so much. I was hungry." You said taking a seat beside him and taking the bowl from his hand. You let out a tiny moan after taking the first bite. "This is delicious, did you make this." He only nod his head in answer.

The next few minutes were spent as you two ate in silence, enjoying the meal he cooked. Your mind went back to what he said to you at the party.

"Jungkook?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really think that I should care about what people say about me?"

"Not people. I just think that you let your friends take you for granted. A lot. If they really are your friends they wouldn't talk shit about you like that."

This is the biggest sentence you heard Jungkook saying till now, that too without stuttering. You smiled at him and he got shy again. the tip of his ears along with the apple of his cheeks started flushing.

"What?"

"Nothing, just. Ever since Yoongi and I broke up, i kind of took on that whole 'it girl' role. And I don't really care about what people say or call me and maybe that's why none my friends care either, but... it feels nice to have someone get mad on your behalf."

When Jungkook looked at your eyes and the little smile on your face he could finally see you, not the girl people describe and not the girl his brother seemed to hate so much, he could see you, he couldn't understand if you were the same person who supposedly hurt so many people and broke so many hearts.

You noticed how his eyes traveled to your lips and then back to your eyes.

"I am... You can sleep here, I-I'll just take the couch in the hall."

"Its okay, i guess... we can share a bed."

You suggestion almost made him hiccup. He is almost 23 years old and he has never shared a bed with another woman, well beside his mom and cousins obviously.

"Umm, no its okay...I can just take the couch." Truth was that Jungkook wasn't sure if he will be able to breath properly if he slept beside you.

"Come on Jungkook, I won't bite." You said while putting your hand on his shoulder, as soon as you hand touched him he jumped up from the bed as if you shocked him.

"Goodnight, if you need anything just wake me up...or whatever." With that he picked up a pillow and left the room.

*******

The next day, when Jungkook walked into his Psychology class, you were already sitting there, waving your hand at him and patting the empty seat beside you. Of course, Jimin was on your other side, looking more uninterested than ever.

Jungkook wasn't aware that you were in the same class; he had never noticed you before. He began searching for another seat to avoid being distracted by you throughout the class. However, he couldn't find any available seats that weren't at the back.

"Hi Jungkook." You said once he finally settled down beside you but received no reply from the boy and it made you frown, was he seriously going to pretend that nothing happened last night, like those few minutes of bonding were nothing.

"I recently transferred classes." You informed him about the tiny detail. "You have to help me with whatever that's been going on." you said as he silently put down his stuff beside you. He sat down without doing much to acknowledge your existence but you looked around and saw there were many vacant seats in the hall and he chose to sit beside you, so he's not completely ignoring you or anything.

"I don't understand a single thing this man is saying." you exclaimed quietly but loud enough.

"Yes, and thanks to you we are stuck here." Jimin rolled his eyes beside you.

"Can you please help me catch up after lecture?" You looked at Jungkook.

"Since when do you care about academics?" Jungkook asked while writing down whatever the old man was saying.

"Since now. Pretty please?" The boy looked at you as you batted your eyelashes and sighed.

"Fine. I don't have any other class after this, I can help you study."

You almost exclaimed loudly but then recalled how rude and unfiltered Mr. Hastings was so you sat quietly for the rest of the lecture.

Once the lecture finally ended and you saw Jungkook preparing to get out of the class, you quickly got up to follow him. "I'll see you guys at the cafe ok?" you told your best friend and without waiting for a reply ran after Jungkook.

"Where are we going?"

"To the library."

"I thought you don't have any classes after this. Neither do I. Why can't we just leave?" You whined, feeling slightly irritated by his unexpected behavior. It's not like his behavior was new—he'd been like this from the beginning. But after last night, you really thought something had shifted. You didn't just imagine everything, did you? This morning he even made you a breakfast sandwich and arranged an Uber for you.

"I like studying in the library." Of course he does!

"Let's just go to your place." You said while trying and failing to drag him with you. 'Wow, he sure is pretty strong' "Come on, Jungkook. Pleaseeeee! I hate that library, Its so silent and cold."

Jungkook bit his lips while contemplating your offer. 'God you are so irresistible' Last night Jungkook almost forgot about all the promises he made to his brother. His beliefs towards you were slowly changing, he knew you were not the monster everyone made you to be, quite the opposite actually. Still, he believed hanging with you was like walking on burning coals, he was ought to get burned.

Jungkook didn't say anything. He just let you happily drag him out of this dreadful campus. He thinks he has spent the whole night alone with you at his place without letting himself lose control, he's pretty sure he can do a few more hours.

*******

Somehow this afternoon Jungkook was much less nervous than last night. Thank god he decided to clean the whole place right after you left. You were sitting on his bed with your pretty legs under your butt as your wide eyes looked up at him.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Just water." He nodded and left to grab a bottle from his kitchen.

'Calm down Jungkook, you are just gonna help her study and then she's gonna leave'. Wiping his sweaty palms on his sweatshirt Jungkook reentered his room only to find you out of the cardigan that was covering you, leaving you only in a beige camisole and a pair of white shorts.

"I hope you don't mind. Your room's kinda warm"

"Its okay. Water." He handed you the bottle with almost shaky hand.

"Thanks."

"We should start, if you wanna cover all the topics before Mr. Hastings gives off assignments. He's pretty brutal while checking the papers."

For the next half and hour or so Jungkook has gone through 5 pages of his notes with you, or maybe 3; you weren't really counting. You would be lying if you said that you understood everything that came out of his pretty mouth, Psychology was not really one of the hardest subjects that you chose but he was just too pretty for you to focus on any thing besides him.

"You are not focusing." Jungkook said blatantly as you sat in front of him on his bed, giving him heart eyes while he just poured his heart to you about the schools of psychology.

"I totally am, I just listened to everything you said, and I totally agree."

"Really? Then which school emphasizes the role of unconscious conflicts, early childhood experiences, and defense mechanisms in the development of psychological disorders?"

"Ummm...the middle school?"

"NO the psychodynamic school." this was the first time you were seeing Jungkook speaking so loudly and passionately about something, and honestly it was a turn on. "Did you listen to anything I just said?"

"Sorry, I promise I'll focus from now on."

"Do, you want to take a break?" You were surprised that Jungkook was the first one who suggested to take a break and not you.

"Yeah sure, What should we do?" You asked suggestively knowing very well that Jungkook will not even think about the million things that you want to do to him right now but a girl can always hope right?

"Umm, I have video games, if you wanna play? Or we can watch anime." both the options were way different from what you were hinting so you took the matters in your own hand.

"Or..." You scooched closer to the boy, "We could make out." All the oxygen from Jungkook's body left him right there. His whole face was suddenly red and hot and he had no idea if you were just joking or if you were serious.

"Y-you want to do that?"

"You don't?" Of course he did, that is all he had thought about ever since you started talking to him.

"Wh-why me?" His question made you laugh lightly.

"Jungkook. Is it not painfully obvious that I am attracted to you?" As a matter of fact you have never tried hiding that you have a crush on him, not from him, not from anybody. So you were not sure why he was so surprised by your confession.

"But why me?" It broke you heart that he was not aware of how painfully gorgeous he was.

"Because-" You moved closer and removed his iPad from his hands , practically sitting on his lap. "I think you are the most gorgeous and sweetest person I've ever met in my entire life." You slowly reached for his face with your right hand removing his glasses, testing the waters. You would never do anything that would make him even slightly uncomfortable. "And you have beautiful eyes. Is this Ok?" Jungkook's voice was caught in his throat, all he could offer you was a nod which made you giggle.

"Do you want me to continue?" The conscious side of his brain was saying no, reasoning with him, what would he tell his brother? But his body was possessed, possessed by lust and the touch of your soft hands. His hands were suddenly involuntarily reaching out for you, he was craving to touch you, hold you and finally kiss you.

"Yes, please."

"As you wish, baby boy." Your lips finally met his soft ones and he felt like he has reached euphoria. He had completely lost control over his body. His hand grabbed you by the waist as hard as he could without hurting you and pulled you onto his laps.

His heart was beating so loudly that he was scared he would go into a cardiac arrest. The first few strokes of his lips were a little awkward, considering it was not a daily occurrence for him like you but after a few soft kisses his lips found the perfect rhythm with yours.

You smiled into the kiss as he slowly gained confidence and started kissing you more fiercely. His kisses were so soft and smooth that it felt like you have been kissing him daily. Soon you felt him opening his mouth a little wider so you took the opportunity and slipped in your tongue, he tasted like strawberries and mint, reminding you of his sweet taste in beverages.

"Wow!" you exclaimed as soon as he pulled away for some air. "You are a great kisser."

"T-thank you, so are you."

"Aww don't get shy now." you said pointing at the pink hue rising up his neck and to his cheeks. "So? you want to continue or you want to go back to studying?" You asked half seriously, hoping to god he wouldn't choose the second option.

"I think you've studied enough for today."

You let out a tiny giggle before crashing your lips again on his. You took his hand and dragged it up your chest, granting him permission to touch you. his hand stayed there for a second before giving your breast a tiny squeeze, pulling out a moan from you.

It wasn't much later that you started grinding your hips against his, feeling his very prominent boner through his pants. After a few circular motion of your hips, he was a moaning mess in your hands.

His shaky hands started pulling at your top with urgency, wanting to feel more of your exposed skin. You helped him take off your top and he sat still for a moment, looking at your breast like a little kid looking at a carnival.

"You wanna touch them?" You asked, guiding his hand to the hook of your bra and he nodded very eagerly. After the little piece of cloth came off his lips didn't waste a single second before coming in contact with your nipple, sucking on it as if it had the cure of all diseases. His tongue did a fantastic job making you whimper and moan on his lap.

"Oh my god, baby, you are so good at this." you cried holding the back of his head and guiding his mouth to all the right places.

Your lips wanted to taste him again so you did and this time he was the most confident. You had no idea how his kisses improved so much in a matter of few minutes, but you were not complaining. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth and his lips sucked in yours like a candy.

It was your turn now to pull at his t-shirt until it was thrown away in another corner of his room and there was no barrier between both of your upper bodies.

You sat there for a few seconds, admiring the view. He really was gorgeous, he was lean but very muscular, you knew he was hiding something delicious under all those baggy clothes.

Your fingertips ran along the smooth honey like skin until they reached the hem of his sweatpants. You looked up at his face asking for permission. He looked a little nervous.

"I want to suck your cock, Jungkook. I promise it will feel nice." He contemplated your offer for a few seconds before finally nodding his head yes and you gave him another kiss out of joy.

You didn't waste too much time before pulling his sweatpants and briefs down his thighs. His cock spring up at your touch making you almost drool. You have had sex with a lot of men A LOT, but you swear that you have never seen a prettier dick. Or maybe it looked so pretty because of the man it was attached to.

You leaned down and left tiny kisses along his thighs making his cock angrier and darker. It was so thick that you couldn't wrap your whole hand around it. You could already imagine how good it would feel inside you.

As soon as you gave a kitten lick on the tip, Jungkook let out a loud groan.

"Ple-please."

"Please what baby?"

"Please __, do something. It feels so nice."

You let out another giggle at his desperation and decided not to torture him any further. His one hand supported him up from the bed as the other one grabbed your head and pushed it further down, making you swallow his cock until it reached the back of your throat.

His precum tasted like butter, smooth and salty. You looked up at the boy while bobbing your head up and down, his eyes were closed and mouth was hung open as he moaned your name again and again like a mantra.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, what you couldn't fit in your mouth as your tongue constantly licked the head. His orgasm came without any warning, hitting your chest and face and your quickly wrapped your mouth around the tip in order to not waste any more of it. It would be such a shame to waste the cum from such a pretty cock.

You swallowed all his load and giggle when you looked at his expression. He looked like he was about to ask you to marry him.

"I'm sorry, i should have warned you." He said and you followed his eyes to the droplets of cum sitting prettily between both your breasts.

"Its ok, I like surprises." You said taking his t-shirt that he handed you to wipe his cum.

His eyes couldn't seem to look away from you. You've always been beautiful, but at this moment, you looked otherworldly. With your tousled hair and nearly bare face, he had never encountered anyone more stunning. When he kissed you this time, he was entirely confident; it was brief yet filled with intense passion.

"Teach me?" You looked at him confusingly.

"I want to do something for you, please you, make you--... I want to make you cum, teach me how to." You smiled at his request.

"Maybe some other time. You look tired right now, lets take a nap."

Some other time. You said 'some other time', does that mean it was not a one time deal with him.

He nodded at your suggestion and pulled up his sweatpants and briefs. Just as you were about to get up from his bed to give him his privacy his hand pulled you to his chest and wrapped around you tightly.

"Sleep with me?" He pleaded with a soft voice and you obliged happily.

As you slipped into slumber Jungkook couldn't help but wonder, was this post orgasm bliss that he was experiencing or did something just shift inside him? He suddenly felt anger towards his brother, towards everyone who has ever spoken ill about you.

It seemed impossible that someone so mean could be so sweet to him alone. He wanted to protect you, even though he knew he wasn’t strong enough. Still, he would do everything he could to ensure that no one ever harmed you.

******

When you woke up from your nap it was pretty dark outside Jungkook's window, you don't know how many hours you slept but it was one hell of a sleep.

Jungkook was still sound asleep, his head on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist. You smiled to your self once you heard him snore. 'wow even he snores so prettily'.

You wanted to pee so bad but you were unable to even move under him. You laid there for a few more minutes not wanting to wake him up but the urge to take a leak just became unbearable.

"Jungkook..." You shook him slightly, "Baby, I need to use the restroom."

"Why?" He asked in his sleepy voice making you laugh.

"Why? Why do people use the toilet, silly?"

"Just do it on the bed."

"EW, Jungkook no."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He laughed before getting up and you ran to the bathroom as soon as you were free.

'Did Jungkook just make a joke.' You thought as you sat down on the toilet. It was the first time you were watching this side of Jungkook, he was always either too nervous to talk to you or too irritated. You were happy though, that he could finally be himself around you.

After you cleaned yourself and walked back inside the room Jungkook was already dressed in fresh clothes and you missed his bare chest.

"Here," he handed you a grey t-shirt. "It is clean." You were surprised as he pulled you closer to him and pecked your lips. Neither of you spoke about your departure from his place and acted like it was daily occurrence for you to spend so much time at his flat.

"So? Should we continue with our lesson?" he asked pulling you down on his lap.

"Do we have to?"

"I mean, if you want to pass his class then yes."

"Or we can think about it later and do something fun."

"How about, we study for an hour and then you could choose any game that you want to play, I have 278 games that you can choose from."

"Oh my god, 278?" You asked with wide eyes and he nodded his head. "Wow you are a nerd."

"Guilty."

You agreed with his deal and he also promised to treat you with food after the study session.

You have to admit that studying was fun with Jungkook. His concepts were so clear that he made them sound very easy to you and by the end of the hour you were proud that you finally learned something today.

"Wow that was very easy, I have no idea how that man makes all of this sound so fucking boring. You know what you should be a lecturer."

"You think so?"

"Actually no, that is a very bad idea. Nobody will listen to a single thing that you say"

"Why?"

"They will be too busy looking at that pretty face." You said in all seriousness and he started blushing again.

"Okay so you wanna play FIFA?"

*******

"Wow you are smiling, A LOT." Jimin said and gave you a side eye as you happily sipped on your matcha tea.

"I'm always smiling."

"You are, but today it looks like your face got stuck with a hanger inside."

"That's because I am happy?"

"Why? What did you smoke?"

"Nothing, can't I be happy sober."

"You can, but you are only this happy when you smoke good weed."

"Let's go its time for class." You said getting up from the couch and pulling Jimin up with you.

"Seriously what happened to you? You want to go to class again?"

"If you don't come, I'll go by myself." Your threat seemed to work on him as he rolled his eyes and started following.

"What did this Jungkook guy do to you? Did he make you join some geeks cult? Blink twice for yes." Jimin joked as both of you made your way to Mr. Aitken's hall.

"Why is it so hard to believe that I want to study and attend my classes?"

"Yeah right, you also want to bake a pie and become a housewife."

When you enter hall SF22 your eyes immediately started looking for Jungkook and they lit up as soon as they spotted him. He seemed to have noticed you as he patted at the empty seat beside him with a shy smile.

"Let's go, Chimmy."

"You want to sit in the front?"

"Yeah why not."

"Maybe its time for me to switch best friends."

"As anyone else would tolerate you beside me. Hi, Jungkook." You said as you sat down beside him at glared at Jimin when he didn't greet him.

"Hey man." Jungkook immediately nodded at him and return his greeting.

Jungkook wondered if anyone in this hall could figure out that you spent the entire night at his place and made out with him till the dawn. What if they found out though? Would they mock him? Would they say more awful things about you? He hated being the center of attention, especially if it was for negative reasons, but he would still prefer people to talk shit about him rather than you.

Jungkook also wonders if you had the same feeling of despair as he did when you left this morning. He questioned whether everything that was happening effected you the way it did him.

Although the sweet smile that you gave him was reassuring enough he couldn't help but think if you would become bored of him sooner or later.

You on the other hand could practically see the wheels in his head turning around and he once again looked shy and nervous. What happened to the Jungkook you saw last night? the Jungkook that was confident enough to ask you to teach him how to make you cum.

"You okay?" You asked and before he nodded with another smile. You took his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

The lecture went by neither of you saying anything, But you made sure to rub his thigh every now and then.

Once the lecture was over he didn't leave like he usually did but instead waited for you to get up first, you took him by surprise when you held out your hand for him. Jimin looked at you with a questioning look, he wouldn't say that you were not a PDA person but he has never seen you hold hands with some beside him and maybe Yoongi when you guys were together.

"I'll meet you at the cafe, Jiminie." You told your best friend giving him a side hug which he gladly returned and left with your hands in Jungkook's. He was happy for you, yes a little jealous that he had to now share his time with you with some other guy but if you were happy he wanted nothing more than that.

"Where are we going?" You asked swinging your joined hands back and forth.

"The library."

You complained a bit, but you happily went along with him. It didn’t matter where he went; you’d probably follow him even to the dumpster. You couldn’t quite explain this overwhelming desire to spend all your time with him—it had never happened to you before, not even with Yoongi. You usually needed your personal space, but with Jungkook, it felt different; he was your personal space.

The library was much quieter than usual for a Friday morning. Only a few people lingered among the shelves and chairs, and they seemed indifferent to both of you, allowing Jungkook to exhale in relief.

He was about to sit on his usual spot but you dragged him farther inside the liberary.

"I know a spot," you said, noticing the questioning look on his face as you led him to the library's unexplored section. The books were coated in dust, suggesting that no one had been here in ages—perhaps because Celtic mythology was considered a forgotten topic. Jungkook had never seen this part of the library before, and you only came here to make out in peace.

"What is this section."

"Celtic Mythology and that is paleontology, nobody comes here. Ever."

"Why?"

"I don't know, probably because nobody reads them anymore."

"That's sad. These books must have been lonely for years," he said, his voice tinged with sadness as he traced his fingers along the spine of a book. He looked as pure as the first rays of morning sunlight. It was endearing how much he cared, even for the forgotten books.

"Why are we here?" he asked, his innocence making you want to tuck him away in your pocket and shield him from the world.

"I wanted to kiss you." You were blunt like always, taking his breath away from his lungs.

"You do?"

"Umhmm, don't you?"

"I do. Very much."

"Then what's stopping you? Kiss me."

"What if- what if someone walks in?"

"Nobody comes here, trust me. I'm pretty sure half of these people don't even know the existence of this section," You said pulling him closer to you. "So... You can do whatever you like, baby. Nobody would know." Your words were enough reassurance for him. He cupped your face with both of his hands and pulled you in for a sweet and short kiss.

"Can I... can I touch you here?" He questions, fingers hovering over your covered pussy and you nodded in excitement.

His hands were shaky as they slid under your skirt and caressed your wetness through your panties. His touch was so soft yet it sent a lightning inside your body making you shiver and almost lose your balance. If it wasn't for his other hand holding your waist you would have fell down.

You held his hand and guided it inside your panty. You became so wet in just a few seconds. Jungkook was eager so he did what he craved for, dipped two fingers in your arousal and pulled them out to suck on them. The site almost made you come right there.

You tasted delicious to him, just like how he imagined all those times he did the unholy while thinking of you. It was the perfect mixture of salty and sweet

You grabbed his neck and pulled him in an eager kiss. Lips clashing away at each other like it was a battle. His hand went back inside your underwear and wasted no time before pushing in two fingers. His thumb played your clit like a guitar.

You whimpered against his lips as his other hand went inside your crop top and squeezed you like a lemon. The more he tasted your cherry lip gloss the more he craved for it.

"Jung-... baby, I'm gonna cum." You warned him and he rubbed you even even faster. His two fingers buried so deep inside you that he could stroke your walls.

As you came down from your high your fingers started to immediately work on the buttons of his jeans.

Your mouth was watering at the thought of his cock. You wanted a taste again.

"__, somebody's gonna walk in." He said as you quickly pushed him against the bookshelf and pulled down his zipper.

"Shh... if you don't make any nose, nobody would know." You murmured against his lips that were now shining with your pink lip gloss. You slowly started pumping his cock that was now hard and hot against your hand. "Do you want me to make you cum?" He hesitantly nodded and you happily sunk down on your knees to take him in your mouth.

When your warm wet lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Jungkook realized how hard it was going to be to stay silent.

*******

Spending the night in Jungkook's room has almost became a daily occurrence to you. It has been exactly three weeks since you first gave him the best orgasm of his life.

It was now like a daily schedule that you would go to his place after college and hang out with him, sometimes it would end in you on your knees, showing him the gates of heaven and sometimes it would end innocently with the two of you cuddling and talking about anything and everything.

You have not taken the next step yet, it wasn't that he never asked you to, you just wanted him to be completely sure before doing that.

There was one more thing, you were scared. Scared to take the next step with him. What if after you have sex with him you become bored. You know you like him too much but still, you were scared to break his heart. He was too innocent for that, you can never live with yourself if you ever made him sad.

Right now you were sitting on his bed with a gaming console in your hand whining at the fact that Jungkook would let you win.

It wasn't that you were bad at playing video games, it was that Jungkook was too good, you watched at the boy with a pout as he defeated your team for the third time in a row.

"Oh my god, what are you not good at?"

"I'm going easy on you."

"Such a show off." You said, playfully rolling your eyes.

"Let's play a game that you are good at."

"Ummm... Lets play Tekken."

"Ok." He obliged before putting on the game that you demanded. "What does winner gets?" He asked and you raised your eyebrow.

"Whatever they want."

"Whatever?"

"Whatever."

"I was gonna let you win but not anymore."

"Nooo, don't be mean, go easy on me."

"You ready?" He asked and you nodded, eyes squinting at focus as you looked at the TV screen. Jungkook felt a strange kind of serenity when he looked at you. Nobody ever has been so quick to tear down his walls. You not only tore down his wall but also made a home inside.

Nobody knows you, not really. They wouldn't say those things if they did. You were sweet, kind, beautiful inside out. You were mot even a single thing that people described you to be. Quite the opposite.

"Oh my god you lost!" You exclaimed all of a sudden pulling him out of the train of his thoughts. "Oh my god, I can't believe I won, I Won."

You got up from the bed and started jumping around, if an outsider looked they would think you won a lottery and not just a video game.

"Wait, did you let me win?" You stopped jumping and stood in front of him with a not-so-threatening pout.

"What? No. I would never, you are just so good at it."

"Of course, I am." You mockingly brushed of your shoulders and Jungkook decided right there that he was in love with you. Maybe it was too soon, maybe you wouldn't reciprocate it but he was utterly and madly in love with you. And he doesn't care if you don't love him back, he would love enough for the both of you.

"Ok now what do I get?" He would honestly give you both his kidneys if you asked but you didn't. "I want you to give me piggy back ride tomorrow between all my classes." Your choice of demand made him laugh.

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"Huh, i thought you would ask for my PlayStation."

"Oh my god, I could have right? I want to change my wish."

"No, no take backs."

*******

Jungkook's roommate left town for a while so you decided to take advantage of it and make dinner for the two of you. Jungkook helped you with chopping all the veggies.

"Are you sure this is how it supposed to look."

"Are you calling my shrimps ugly?"

The poor little animals have become a little black inside the frying pan but you were sure they would taste good.

"No, not ugly, they just don't look..."

"What? Edible? Fine, I'm gonna eat it all by myself, don't come begging for a piece if it tastes heavenly." You were so confident in your creation that it reminded him of that night when you made him that 'special cocktail' that tasted like piss but he didn't have the heart to tell you that.

You don't remember the last time you hung out with someone this long that too without any alcohol or weed, and yet it was the most fun you had in a while. Jungkook made you feel emotions you thought you had lost touch with. Even with Yoongi, you had never experienced this kind of pure bliss. He made you feel whole, like you didn’t need drugs or sex to fill any emptiness. With Jungkook, there’s no pressure to uphold a certain image or look flawless. You can simply be yourself, and it’s enough to make you feel truly happy.

As you served the forbidden looking dish on both of the plates he pulled out his phone to snap a picture. You couldn't help but smile, striking a playful pose for the camera. The photos turned out great—you looked flawless. The shrimp, however, was undeniably inedible. But of course, he’d never admit that.

You spat out the content of your mouth into the dustbin.

"Oh my god. EW. Stop eating it. Its so salty i feel like i gulped acid."

"I think it tastes fine." Jungkook said chewing the burnt fish.

"Spit it out."

In the end, you decided to order pizza, and despite your insistence, Jungkook insisted on paying for it. You both settled on his bed, enjoying the pizza while watching a new anime he had introduced you to.

Despite the screen in front of you flashing with gore and violence, you’d never felt as at peace as you did in that moment. With your stomach full and your head resting on his warm, bare chest, his fingers gently weaving through your hair, everything felt perfectly calm.

"Jungkook?" You asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you so scared of me before?" Your question made him pause, now that he think of it he doesn't seem to know the answer. Sure he still remembers all those horrible things he heard and regrettably believed about you but he doesn't know why he used to be so scared of this sweetest girl he has ever met that he couldn't even form a sentence without stuttering. You have never personally been mean to Jungkook nor has he ever seen you do anything remotely as horrible as people say.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"You were so pretty, and so far out of my league that maybe I thought it was a sin to just be in the same vicinity as you." His answer made you burst out laughing.

"What? Do you still believe that?"

"Do I believe that you are the prettiest girl I've ever seen? Yes."

"No do you still believe that I am out of your league and it is a sin to be with me?"

"Yes, if anyone in college finds out I'm cuddling with the __ __ they would sacrifice me."

"Stop joking, I'm serious. You can't think that I am out of your league or something."

"You are though."

"I am NOT."

"You could literally have any guy that you point your finger at."

"And here I am, laying in your bed, begging to suck your cock every other night." Your words made him twitch inside his boxers. "You are gorgeous, smart, funny and you make me feel so good, you can't possibly think that I am out of your league."

"You know, I used to... I used to think that you were asking me out to make fun of me." His confession made you laugh again.

"What? Really?"

"I mean... there was you and then there was me. I never thought I was your type. And I never really heard good things about you either"

"My god, people really think I'm the devil don't they?"

"Who cares what they think?"

"Hmm... What else did you hear about me?"

"Nothing that matters, what matters is who you really are. And you are the kindest and sweetest person ever and you give really good head." You burst out laughing again.

"Oh my god, you heard that as well?"

"Everyone did."

"Wow, I'm glad that we put that out of question."

The anime playing on the screen was long forgotten. The boy laying in your arms was far more interesting. You stared into each other's eyes for how long you don't really know, you know you can stare into them so much more longer.

*******

Making out with Jungkook felt like an habit now. You were currently laying under him in nothing but your underwear while the anime still plays in the background on mute.

No matter how many times you kiss him you can never not be surprised by how sweet his lips taste, just like him. His hands, gentle yet strong, groped every inch of your body like he was holding onto his life.

Jungkook pulled away from your lips, looking down at your body and a sudden fire burst through him. You were so beautiful that he couldn't get over the fact that you were under him. He must have done some really great work in his past life and he was now getting rewarded for it.

"What happed baby boy?" You ask pulling him out of his train of thougts.

"I want to please you."

"You are pleasing me."

"No... like you do it for me. I want to... I want to use my mouth." You smirked, it was always so cute when he stuttered.

"I don't understand, be more clear baby." You certainly do understand but it was so much fun teasing him.

"God, I want to eat you out, __. Can I?" Your words got lost in your throat so you nodded your head in affirmation.

Jungkook started kissing a very slow trail down your body make you almost die from anticipation. When his mouth finally came in contact with your bundle of nerves, your whole body started shivering.

"Oh god baby, that's right." His hand took yours and put it in his hair as if telling you to guide him. "Use your tongue." And like ever so obedient, he did.

His tongue was warm and even though it was his first time it felt very skillful. His tongue, licked up your juices in big and wide strokes. Pouty lips sucking in your clit every now and then.

"Now put a finger inside, baby." he followed your instruction almost immediately. Long thick finger sinking in your heat while his tongue licked you.

His other free hand went up to grab at your breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh and occasionally twisting your nipples.

With a last few rhythmic strokes of his tongue and finger you were cumming.

"I'm cumming, baby boy." Your words sounded like reward to his ears. His tongue out and mouth was open, ready to drink in everything that you were about to offer.

You have never squirted in your life and this boy who looks like, he has never even seen a pussy in his life just made you squirt in like 5 minutes. You wonder what more talents were he hiding.

"Come here, baby. I want you inside me." You said pulling him by his arms, closer to you. He was already so hard that your word made him feel like he was going to pop a vessel on his dick.

You changed your position and now he was under you while you pulled out a condom from your purse and rolled it on his cock without wasting another minute.

This scene in front of Jungkook was a little too familiar, he has dreamt of this exact moment only every other night ever since you started talking to him.

Your hands guiding his to your chest and you slowly sunk down on him, your warm pussy fitted his cock like a glove. Like they were made for each other. A loud whine left Jungkook's lips as soon as you settled on his dick.

"I've dreamt of this so many times." His arousal has turned off all his filters, his confession made you smirk.

"You did? SO naughty. And you dare to act like you are the most innocent guy on this planet."

"It was because of you, you make me think all those lewd things."

"Oh yeah? Did you touch yourself after waking up?" You asked as you slowly started jumping up and down in a perfect rhythm and his words got caught in his throat. "tell me, baby. Did you?"

"Yesss... Aghh fuckkk.. Everytime."

"Mhmm. God you feel so good. Was your hand as good as my pussy?"

"No, Noth-- Ahh.. Nothing compares to this. Your pussy is so good." He cried out in pleasure as both of your rode close to your orgasms.

"Tell me, baby. What else did you dream about?"

"I- I dreamt... About you riding my face."

"You would like that wouldn't you?"

"Please... I love your pussy so much."

"Rub my clit, Jungkook." Jungkook did as told and started rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"I'm about to cum." He cried out.

"Me too baby, just hold for a few seconds."

After a few more seconds of riding his heavenly dick you both were finally coming down from your high. Lips finding each others as soon as you were done. Your bodies seemed to have calmed down as you gave each other slow and deep kisses.

"Wow, that... That was the best sex I've ever had. And I'm not just saying it, Jungkook." Jungkook's face turned pink at the compliment. Honestly he never thought he would last this long if he ever had the chance to have sex with you. "Did you like it as well?" He was shy again all of a sudden.

"Yes. I would... I would like to do it again."

"Me too, baby me too, but lets get some sleep right now."

After you you both cleaned up and jumped into his bed, you realized how tired you became. Your eyes closed as soon as your head rested on his chest.

Once your breath turned even and you fell asleep, or Jungkook thought you fell asleep he pressed his lips against your forehead and gave you a kiss. A kiss that was a lot more meaningful then any kiss on the lips.

"I love you." He whispered, thinking you were fast asleep but you heard it. You heard as his breath became even as well and he fell deep into sleep.

For once you don't feel like you have to leave. You don't feel like you are out of place and you don't feel like you are incapable of love.

For once you don't want to get up in the morning and sneak out before he's awake, instead you want to stay over, you want to have breakfast with him. You want to sit on his counter as he cooks and you want to hear him say he loves you again.

Maybe you wouldn't say it back right now if he said it when you were awake but you like to believe that one day, very soon, you will also whisper it to him as he falls asleep.

*******

Tags : @hrtsj1m

@honeeybunneey

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@taetaecatboy

@radhottubfart

@pinkjm

@hajimaoppaa

@dontcallmeelle

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@gaebestie

@ttanniett

@azaood

[lndsismaeverything]

Lnds men taking their kids(s) to first day of school

Y'all I can't I accidentally posted this shit half way through writing. Which reminds me why I don't like writting 🫠but here yalll go

Xavier : daughter

Xavier would be the type to be waking up late for his daughter first day of school and other school days But lucky you woke them both in time before they're gonna run late , bec you had an early mission today Even if they run late your husband could just teleport with your daughter to the school "this is a crime for waking up this early just for school " you husband complain next to him was his daughter robbing her eyes with one hand and the other holding her dad hand You already prepared everything last night, packed her bags, set her uniform on the hanger and also asked her and your husband what kind of breakfast they want

You both get out of the house and head towards the elevator "Sorry I can't go with you bunbun, but daddy will drop you off " you apologize to your daughter as u can't bring her to school for the first day you give your husband and your daughter a good bye kiss before heading off in your motorcycle going the opposite direction "Looks like it's just you and me princess hold my hand and don't let go "

Sure he could just teleport there, but- " do you want me to carry you? " your daughter just nodded, with that Xavier lifted her up walked towards the school while his daughter took a lol nap on the way there

Arriving at the school and looking around which class his daughter will be staying, he puts her down and kneel to her level

" so this is where I'm going to stay in a few hours?" Your daughter looked around the classroom

Xavier just nodded and patted her head before telling " yup, just like what we talked about last night. after that I pick u up and maybe mommy too "

" okay... But promise me to pick me up in time okay Daddy " she holds her pinky out, without any hesitation Xavier wraps his pinks with hers " I promise ''

Soon after both you and your husband pick up your daughter from kindergarten.

" Daddy ! , mommy! You came in time! " she runs towards you guys and hugs both of your legs

Overall your daughter first day of school when better then her classmates. Because she didn't know why everyone cried at there parents. It's not like they leaving them there forever .

Or they didn't had the talk the night before

Zayne : son

Let's say like father like son.

It wasn't hard to wake your son up for the first day of school . Because you don't have to wake him up by the time you when to his room he was already getting dressed

So you decided to make some morning breakfast and their lunches. Breakfast was something simple , fluffy pancakes with some whipped cream and berries dusted with power sugar

As for lunch some rice with stir fried chicken with some vegetables including carrots. Even if they both don't like carrots they will eat them no matter what because you made them , and also why , you took this advantage to feed them some carrots ( bec it's good for the eyes ). But not very day, just a few time a month

After they finished eating your son and husband took their belongings and head towards the door, as you about to join them they stopped you

" my love , I think is best if you take some rest. You had a rough day yesterday. Let me take care of our lil snowflake to school "

" but it's his first day "

" it's okay mommy, dad is right you need to take extra rest and beside you can go with me tomorrow also you can pick me up after school "

What a wonderful husband and son you have taking care of you

Both getting in the car zayne check if his son putting his seatbelt on from the mirror , with that he head straight to his son school

First day of school was just like other days but just a lil different. He just had to sit at his desk and listen to the teacher for a few hour

Your son classmates where jealousy of his lunchbox , of course when they ask if they can have a bite he immediately said no, even when they asked for the carrots .

A no is a no

You son highlight of the day was when you pick him up from school and headed toward his dad workplace on your motorcycle. He likes being around his dad office learning and observing him because in the future he wants to be like his dad so he can take care of you in the future

Rafayel : daughter

Everything was going smoothly ,everything . From waking both them up and getting ready for school .

Rafayel definitely spent about half an hour dressing his pretty daughter up.

" are we going for pigtails or a messy bun orrrr braids?"

" which color bows do you want? "

" let's add some sparkles these glitter spay will do just perfect"

From eating a light seafood breakfast and heading out of the door and into his sports car everything was smooth sailing

Until you where standing at the school gates. Everyone looked at your husband sport car, you knew and HE KNEW. As it shows it on his face but don't mind him he loves the attention he's getting from the people

Looking for your daughter classroom was easy. The hardest part was letting her go and your husband to let go of her

" Rafayel, darling please let her go."

It was going well, you told your daughter that she's gonna stay here for a few hours and then picking her up. Until...

You're about to leave with Rafayel until you daughter runs up crying for the both of you. And your darling husband lost it.

You husband and daughter hugged each as you both cry creating a scene that got looks from everyone

Let's say you spend the whole 15mins to break the two of them apart with the teacher help of course. The teacher comfort her and you do the same with your daughter and husband.

Rafayel pouted the entire way to his car his red eyes are hiding behind his sunglasses

" I can't believe you Rafayel " your husband just scoffed at you as you laughed at him. He continue to opened the door for you before closing it .

Rafayel drives you to your work which u have him a kiss afterwards.

" one more goodbye kiss " it wasn't one it turned into 10

At home Rafayel watch his clock tiks , he wishes it would go afters. When it was finally time to pick you and your daughter up he was the happiest man he could be on earth

The moment your daughter and you husband eyes meet they both started running towards each other. Embracing each other like they been separated for 800years

Stylus : twin boys

It's not surprises that sylus woke up and made breakfast for all of you when you came down from the stairs as you just dress the twins up for school

You set up the table with the help of the twins of course. You put your twins lunches in there bag and you do the same with yours before heading out to the garage

Sylus debate on driving his SUV or take the bikes. You ended up with the bikes and making a wager out of it

" whoever make it there first is the victor and the last one there will grand the victor one wish" which sylus words you put on your helmet and so does the twins

" mommy vs daddy . This will be easy" your oldest said towards your youngest " get ready because mommy will win " your youngest fights back to his older twin

The race started when Mephisto cawed three times .

"Caw...caw... CAWWW" and off y'all go

Sylus ended up winning and your oldest son cheered and demanded his twin to give him his dessert for tonight . He agreed but-" next time I'll come back for your ass "

You dropped the twins in there class and sylus took some photos so he can print it and put it in his photo album, for future memories

The both of you said goodbyes to your kids and head back towards your bikes

" oh sweetie I haven't tell you want I wish for as victorious. I want us to try for another kid a daughter this time ." Feeling the heat rise up your cheeks,You punch his shoulder earning a chuckle from him " I'm being serious sweetie "

After it was time to pick up your twins from school. The both of decides it was best to take the SUV instead of the bikes

When the two of you arrived there was a sight to see. Your twins boys already a line a group. It looks like ther where playing cops and robbers in the playground . Your twin boys being the cops and some other

It looks like they where making a plan to capture the robbers. Both of them took leaderships and successfully capture all the robbers and putting them in jail

" looks like they took leadership after their father " you told your husband smiling at the twins working together

"Don't worry our daughter will take after you, sweetie" you just punch him again and called the twins as it time to go home

[crazyvik97rpg]

Sebastian listened with interest when William started telling him all about his day. That work was just the usual but that he told their friends. Sebastian was the most curious about that – but apparently they took the news really well. Well, according to circumstances at least. They even sent wishes and offered their support? Awe, they were so sweet.

„Really? Aw…“, Sebastian hummed, pouting a little but more due to the fact that he was quite moved by their reactions. William kissed his hand and reassured him there was no need to worry about anything, they understood. „Tell them thank you. I‘ll do my best to be back as soon as I can“, he smiled.

„My day?“, Sebastian grinned then and also looked over at his grandma for a moment, „Well, I wasn’t too bored, no. Heh. I got a new bed neighbour actually! He’s in surgery right now. An elderly guy arrived this morning with his wife and we chatted a bit. Then Dr Cole came around…I chatted with the nurses…had more boring soup and purree for lunch. But then! Grandma showed up, that was the best surprise“, it was cute how excited Sebastian got when he babbled on and on about his day – it was kind of helpful too, kept him distracted from the discomfort. Grandma Lillian smiled too then and she squeezed his arm a little, nodded: „I heard everything from his mother just a few days ago. So I simply had to come. You know, I have my own problems and all that and getting around isn’t easy. Sebastian‘s cousin drove me here. But…well, I can only imagine how hard this is on him“, she sighed softly and looked at Sebastian again, patting his arm gently.

„But I see you’re very involved as well, I‘m glad. It’s important to have a strong support system, especially in times like these. And Sebastian is so young. It’s already hard as it is“, she noted, smiling at William appreciatively. She could see he was a very supportive, caring young man. Everyone in their closer family knew that Sebastian wasn’t always lucky when it came to love but…really, the fact that Cynthia loved William was all grandma Lillian needed to know.

„We were just about to do some crosswords, actually, before you came. I think I have some more time to stay before your cousin comes to pick me up again“, she hummed as she had a look at her wristwatch. „Leo?“, Sebastian asked but Lillian shook her head and waved her hand, „Carter. Oh, Leonhard has a new girlfriend now, he doesn’t have time for anything or anyone now“.

„As always“, Sebastian snorted, „I thought he broke up? I mean, that was a while ago now…“

„Oh yes, that was months ago. And she was such a sweet girl too. I don’t know what the problem was this time. Oh well…“, Lillian sighed and then looked over at William, showed him a smile and shrugged, „Love just comes and goes, it seems.“

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[xinganhao]

🫂 older brother!mingyu vs. boyfriend!wonwoo.

anon → "could you please maybe do a text au of older brother! Mingyu and brother's best friend - and boyfriend - Wonwoo?"

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: cussing, sibling dynamics, wonwoo and mingyu are best friends! best read in order + headcanons under the cut.

🫂 the three times mingyu almost caught you (and the one time he did) .ᐟ

(1)

wonwoo likes to think he's a pretty rational guy. he follows rules. he does everything by the book. he treats people well, and he's a good friend. mingyu could attest. they've been best friends for years, after all. except— well, there might be one rule that wonwoo has bended just a teensy, tiny bit.

he's breaking it now as the two of you hold hands underneath the café table. you're doing your own thing with your free hand, but the other remains firmly grasped by wonwoo's. he never thought he'd be the clingy type, honestly. it just felt so out of character for somebody like him. and yet here he is, pouting ever so slightly whenever you try to pull away.

"i need to turn the page, baby," you say exasperatedly, gesturing to the book balanced precariously in front of you.

"i'll turn it for you," he says immediately, reaching out to do exactly that. "just let me know when you need me to."

"you're insane."

he pouts harder. you sigh.

minutes later, though, you're wrenching your hand away like wonwoo's touch has burned you. his whine of babyyy is on the tip of his tongue, but he chokes on the word when he sees the reason for your sudden distance: mingyu, bounding in to the café.

"there you are!" he cries to wonwoo. "watchu doin' with this bighead?"

you flip your older brother off. "tutoring," you say without missing a beat. "because unlike you, wonwoo has more than one functioning brain cell."

as the two of you bicker a bit more, wonwoo tries to rearrange his expression into something more neutral. it's all he can do to hide the way he's already missing the feeling of your fingers slotted in the spaces of his.

(2)

if somebody told a younger wonwoo that he would one day be using emoticons and emojis for someone, that younger wonwoo would've laughed his ass off. today's wonwoo can only hang his head in slight shame.

it came easily, but it also came in part because you used to ask 'are you mad at me? 🥺' when he would use his usual textspeak on you. wonwoo was more than happy to start adapting to your typing habits in a bid to ease your mind.

he's on safari, looking up the appropriate emoticon to send as a reaction to your latest selfie— he's torn between (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) and ヽ(♡‿♡)ノ, which may look the same, but he swears there are nuances— when he hears mingyu's amused voice mumble, "what the hell?"

"jesus christ!"

wonwoo's exclamation is paired with the most over-the-top reaction in the world: tossing his phone halfway across the room. mingyu doubles over in laughter as wonwoo glares up at his best friend, who'd been looking over his shoulder.

"yah, don't sneak up on me like that," wonwoo hisses, the tips of his ears going red.

"alright, mr. japanese kaomojis dot com," mingyu teases. he begins laughing harder at his own joke.

wonwoo smacks mingyu upside on the head before going to retrieve his phone. the screen protector has the ghost of a crack on it, but it's a small price to pay.

at least mingyu hadn't peeked the selfie of you making a kissy face for wonwoo.

(3)

"you should probably go soon," you say delicately, nudging wonwoo's head with the heel of your palm.

he lets out a low whine of protest. despite being significantly bigger than you, he's the one draped over you; his face buried in your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist.

the two of you are lounging on your living room couch. your parents— and your pesky older brother— all had plans elsewhere, giving you and wonwoo some freedom.

"you hate me," your boyfriend groans against the front of your shirt.

"they'll be here any minute."

"so i'll stay for thirty seconds more, then."

it's never just seconds more with wonwoo, but you've never been one to deny him. the thirty seconds spin in to three minutes, then seven, then—

the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway has wonwoo's head snapping up.

"shit," you both say at the same time.

wonwoo scrambles to disentangle from you. "is it—"

"mingyu," you confirm, having grown accustomed to the different sounds that would indicate who was coming home. your eyes are frantic as you wave wonwoo off. "go, go, go!"

he stumbles forward, then backward, like he's not sure where to go.

"my bedroom window!" you hiss, and wonwoo practically bolts up the stairs two steps at a time. just as he gets to the landing of the second floor, mingyu saunters in through the front door.

"were you talking to someone?" your brother asks.

"yeah," you say, schooling your reaction into one of nonchalance. "myself."

"get some help, weirdo."

"how about you—"

your biting retort is cut short by the distant sound of a distant crash. both you and mingyu look towards the general direction of the interruption.

"the hell?" mingyu grouses. you feel like your heart is in your throat as your brother heads for the front door to check.

a frazzled looking wonwoo is out on the porch.

"hey," wonwoo breathes to mingyu. "i, uh, came to see you. knocked over one of your pots while i was walking up, though."

mingyu's eyebrows raise. "why? forgot your glasses or something?"

your eyes catch on wonwoo's spectacles, resting at the foot of the couch. while mingyu's back is still turned, you grab them and shove them into your pocket.

"yeah, forgot 'em at home," wonwoo lies. he's not even looking at you as mingyu lets him in.

"you're in luck," a none the wiser mingyu says. "i literally just got home. otherwise, you would've needed to kill time with the world's biggest loser."

right, you think. like that isn't exactly what wonwoo had just been doing.

(4)

mingyu hadn't meant to find out. really. he was just going to be an annoying older brother— barge into your room, stand there for absolutely no reason, then leave the door open behind him. except when he goes to check, you're already asleep.

he notices that you've crashed atop your covers. that draws a derisive snort of laughter from him. "dumbass," he mumbles to himself. he's known you for all your life, and you're the type to complain about some phantom fever if you didn't have a blanket in your sleep.

he goes to pull your comforter over you, only to freeze midway.

your phone is angled at you, propped up against the wall. it seems like you'd fallen asleep on video call.

and, on the other end of the line is none other than wonwoo.

wonwoo is fast asleep, too. mingyu recognizes the other man's bedroom, sees the way that wonwoo is already dressed for bed. everything just seems to click, then. because everything else is excusable, negligible. but this? the intimacy of this, the sheer familiarity it entails?

mingyu feels like he's intruding. he probably is.

briefly, he considers screaming in your ear until both you and wonwoo are awake. he wants to see what kind of explanation the two of you can come up with on the spot. it'd be pretty funny, he thinks.

instead, he tucks your blanket over your shoulders, taking extra care to not wake you. he'll let you pretend for one more day, he decides with a slight shake of his head.

on his way out of your bedroom, mingyu closes the door for once.

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.iv

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

summary: You and Jenna each reflect on your own choices and the growing tensions between you both. Torn between loyalty, responsibility, and personal longing, what does this growing conflict mean for the future of your alliance?

word count: 12.8k

————

"So, victory sex?" Hunter teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Victory sex?" You echoed, genuinely confused. "With who?"

"Who else? Your little Viper girl," he replied, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After dropping Jenna off at home, you'd shot Hunter a quick text, asking if he wanted to come over. After the whirlwind of the race, and the intense feelings stirred up by Jenna, you needed someone to debrief with—someone who knew about the tangled situation you'd gotten yourself into. Fortunately, your mom didn't know Hunter was part of the Sinners, so he was in the clear to hang out without raising any suspicions.

"Come on, Hunter, I barely know the girl."

"Doesn't seem that way to me," he shrugs, taking a seat on your couch and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. "You let her wear your jacket, didn't you?"

Did everyone see that?

You roll your eyes and flop down beside him, letting out a tired sigh. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say." Hunter smirks, but his teasing tone amplifies after a beat. "But there's no way you didn't feel Racer's High after winning."

You didn't need him to define Racer's High. You knew he was referring to that primal, raunchy, adrenaline rush of a feeling that overtook you once you won the race a few hours ago. You shudder remembering how much you yearned for Jenna in that moment.

"So, how are you feeling about it all? The race, the attention... her?"

You hesitate, considering how much to say. You trust Hunter—he's the only one in the crew you can really open up to, but you're also not ready to dive into the whole Jenna situation. Not with everything going on, especially since you're not sure how deep things go with Percy and this "Ghost Smoke" deal.

"I don't know," you finally say, running a hand through your hair. "The race was wild. Winning felt... intense. I get why people get hooked on that feeling."

Hunter raises an eyebrow. "And?"

"And... I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this. Like, there's this whole side to racing I'm not seeing."

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, watching you carefully. "What do you mean?"

You glance at him, trying to gauge how much you can say without tipping too much of your hand. "I don't know, man. I've been hearing things—whispers about this new stuff called Ghost Smoke floating around Brimstone. You heard anything about that?"

Hunter's eyes narrow, and for a second, you think maybe you've pushed too far. But then he exhales slowly. "I've heard the name. It's bad news, Y/n. Real bad. That shit's spreading fast, and people are already getting hooked. Some of the younger guys are sniffing around for it. Why are you asking?"

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "Just heard it mentioned. Thought it might be connected to some of the things I've been noticing. You don't think the Vipers are involved, do you?"

Hunter goes quiet, his face unreadable. Then he leans back, crossing his arms. "I don't know, and I'm not looking to find out. You shouldn't either. Percy's been getting into things outside of racing, and if Ghost Smoke's part of that, it's not something you or anyone else in the crew wants to be tangled up in."

You nod, though his answer doesn't satisfy you. Not because you don't believe him—but because you have this sinking feeling that the situation is bigger than either of you realize.

The conversation shifts after that, and the rest of the night passes with more casual banter. But the unease never fully leaves your mind.

"Looks like Madison's got a thing for you."

You raise an eyebrow, laughing lightly. "Mikey? That girl's never even cracked a smile at me. Pretty sure she barely tolerates me."

Hunter shrugs, smirking. "Nah, trust me. She was asking about you the other day in the garage."

Your brow furrows slightly. Was it because of what I asked about Percy? A small part of you wonders if Madison's caught onto your suspicions.

"And even during the Viper and Raven races, she was giving you these weird looks."

"What does that even mean, Hunter?" You roll your eyes, half-amused, half-worried.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying this too much. "Hell if I know, but winning that race definitely got you on some people's radar."

Maybe at one point, being on the radar of a few girls would've mattered to you, but not anymore.

————

While Hunter crashed on the couch, you spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed. If someone had told you a month ago that you'd be neck-deep in street races and shady dealings—all for the sake of a girl—you would have called them insane.

When dawn finally broke, you shuffled out of bed and headed into the kitchen, finding Hunter gone and your mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

"Morning, Mom," you yawn, stretching your arms out. "Did Hunter leave already?"

"You just missed him. He said he'd be back later," she replies with a gentle smile.

You hum in response, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the warmth. It was in these quiet, mundane moments that you hated the path you were on more than anything. Between the mess with Jenna, the unpredictability with Percy, and the weight of secrets and family legacies, you sometimes wished you could just be normal—not tangled up in rivalries or trying to make sense of feelings you didn't dare admit.

"You've changed," your mother's voice broke you out of your thoughts, catching you mid-sip.

"Changed?" You raise a brow, joining her at the dining table. "What do you mean?"

She sighs, studying you with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You seem... happier in some ways but also more stressed. Something's weighing on you."

You stare down at your coffee, catching your own reflection in its dark surface, letting your mother's words sink in. Of course she'd notice something different—you're her child. But she's right; you have changed. And now, in this rare quiet moment in the chaos your life has become over the past month, you're finally realizing just how much. You've changed so damn much—and the thought terrifies you, especially because you can't even pinpoint when it happened.

Or you do. And that was the scary part.

A month ago Anton told you to find what's your purpose, your drive. What makes your heart race. What's worth risking everything for.

But you'd been so careful, you tell yourself. You abandoned her the first night you met, didn't even share your name—but now, she's got far more than just a name. She's got you feeding her intel, leading her through Brimstone like her own personal guide, pulling you deeper into a world you swore you'd keep at arm's length.

When did it happen? When did you start dropping her home, buying each other jackets, eating ice cream together—and, hell, when did you start racing? Racing, something you'd vowed never to do. And now here you are, about to walk into a private meeting that likely involves drug lords fueling Brimstone's biggest epidemic—all because she needs leverage on Percy. Leverage to protect herself from some mystery he's holding over her, something she still won't tell you.

You try to rationalize. She's got leverage on you, too. She's got footage of you stealing her dad's car. But deep down, you know she'd only pulled that card to hook you in. She wouldn't actually use it. You knew that. You knew her.

Except—you didn't. You didn't really know a damn thing about this girl, yet here you are, throwing caution to the wind for her. Risking everything for her. Breaking your own rules, doing things you'd avoided for the past twenty years...all because of her. And all way too fast.

Maybe it's because you're finally sitting in front of your mom, and to her, you'll always be her little girl. And facing her now, all you can see is the woman who once opened the door to find cops there, telling her that her husband, the father of her nine-year-old kid, was dead. You remember watching her piece together her shattered heart, all while carrying the weight of resentment for the racing that took him. And now, somehow, you're part of it too. How could you put her through this?

"Y/n?"

Your mom's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you lift your gaze from your coffee to her face.

"I've been calling your name for a while now. What the hell is going on with you kid?" she asks concerned.

Everything you wished you could tell her was everything you couldn't. Everything she warned you to stay away from.

"Look I know I haven't been the best mom," she sighs. "But I did it because I care. I'm strict because I know how quickly things can go south in this shithole of a town."

"You're not a bad mom, stop—"

"I can tell there's something on your mind, I don't know if it's good or bad. But I want to know Y/n/n."

Just as you were about to respond your phone pinged and of course it was Jenna.

Hey Oil spillage, just got news that the meeting moved. It's on Friday at 10p.m. now.

Wonderful news. After the realizations you just had, you were not ready to face Jenna again. In fact you would rather anything but see her. And now you can avoid her for six more days. Without replying to her message, you turn off your phone and turn your attention to your mom.

"I guess I've just been thinking about my future and what that looks like." You decide to open up a little, seeing no apparent harm.

Your mom nods slowly, her brow furrowing slightly as she absorbs your words. "And I also have to consider the fact that we're in Brimstone," you add, your voice dropping a notch.

She looks at you intently, searching your face for clues. "I get that this place can feel limiting, Y/n. But remember, it doesn't have to define you. You have the power to change your path."

You take a sip of your coffee, contemplating her words. "It's just...sometimes it feels like I'm caught between what I want and what I should be doing."

"And what do you want?"

"I don't know! I don't know what I want," you finish, softer now.

She squints, registering the tension in your voice. "Then, what do you think you should be doing?"

Racing. The Club. The Sinners.

But you can't say that. Not to your anti-racing mom, but clearly your face says it for you.

"Y/n," she sighs. "There's no place for you in that life."

"You don't understand, Mom! It's easy on paper to say 'stay away.' But people talk. I'm the daughter of a founding member; they expect me to be part of this."

"And how exactly are you hearing all this talk?" she asks, voice tinged with sass. "I thought I told you to stay away from Anton and that whole club."

"I am!" you lie. "But people at the warehouse still talk," you lie again. "Is working in a warehouse really what you want for me? For the rest of my life?"

"If it keeps you out of that club, then yes, a thousand times over. That club killed your father. I don't get your fascination with it!"

"Maybe I like cars! Maybe I want to feel close to him by doing something that mattered to him. You never even talk about him," you say heatedly, pushing yourself back from the table.

"Sit back down," she says, rubbing her temples.

You sit, your frustration simmering.

Your mom's eyes, usually a fortress, softened with a sigh. "You're right, I don't talk about him much. Not because he wasn't worth it, but because it's painful. But let me tell you something about your dad, something I should've told you sooner."

A shadow of confusion crossed your face.

"He was a founder, sure," she admitted, a bitter smile playing at her lips. "One of the Y/l/n brothers who started this whole thing. But that's not the part of the story that matters. Not the part that should define how you see racing."

Your heart stilled, anticipation prickling at your skin. "What do you mean, then? What's the part I'm missing?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on a memory only she could see. "Your dad wanted out."

The weight of her words hung between you, more jarring than the rumble of any engine. The idea of your father—the man who had seemingly built his entire world around speed, thrill, and the camaraderie of the club—wanting to leave felt impossible.

"What do you mean, 'out'?" you asked, the question barely a whisper.

She sighed, running a hand over her tired face. "He didn't start the club for the glory, Y/n. Not for the rush or to become some legend everyone would talk about. He did it because he felt trapped, and for a while, racing felt like freedom. But when things got bigger, more dangerous... he saw where it was heading. He knew it wasn't sustainable. He wanted out before it swallowed him whole."

You stared at her, trying to process this new version of the man you thought you knew. The stories you'd grown up on were all about victory, triumph, the unmatched skills of your father and the empire he helped build. But no one talked about the nights he lay awake, second-guessing the choices that led him there.

"Why didn't he leave, then?"

Her eyes glistened with a pain that seemed older than time, a sorrow she'd carried long. "He did, or... he was supposed to. That last race—the one that took him from us—it was meant to be his farewell. He promised me it would be the last time, that after that night, we would start over, somewhere far away from all of this."

You felt like the ground beneath you had shifted. The race that defined so much of your past, the race whispered about in awe and grief—it had been an ending, but not the kind you ever imagined.

"He was going to walk away?" you asked, your own voice thick with disbelief.

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the weight of old promises and lost dreams shining in their depths. "Yes," she whispered, a tear finally breaking free and rolling down her cheek. "He was tired of what it had become—the danger, the violence, the way it devoured everything good. He wanted out for you, for us. But fate had other plans."

You looked at her, seeing not just your mother but a woman who had lost everything for the sake of someone else's ambition. The image of your father—legendary racer, fearless leader—began to fracture, replaced by the vision of a man who was trapped, fighting for freedom that never came.

"And now," she said, drawing a shaky breath, "you have to decide if you're going to chase his ghost, or choose a different path."

Suddenly, the image of racing, of the thrill that had always called to you, shifted. It wasn't just the adrenaline, the wind whipping past and the engine's roar. It was what lay beneath—the fear, the drive to outrun something that couldn't be escaped.

"So, what does that mean for me?" you asked quietly.

Her fingers tightened around her cup, eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. "It means you decide if racing is freedom or a cage. For your dad, it became both. You don't owe this club anything."

You sat back, absorbing the truth. Racing had always felt like destiny, an inheritance carved into the fabric of who you were. But now, for the first time, it seemed less like a birthright and more like a choice—a choice you'd have to make on your own terms.

"Do you ever... want to get out of here?" you ask, almost too quietly, afraid of the answer. "Out of Brimstone?"

A question you should've asked your mother years ago, but is only leaving you now.

She raises her eyebrows, surprised by the question. It lingers in the air between you for a moment before she sighs, looking out the window to the tired streets beyond. "Sometimes," she says finally. "Sometimes I think about it, yeah. The way this place drags people in, holds them down... It scares me for you, Y/n. I don't want you trapped here. I want you to have options, a life that's bigger than this town."

"Then why do you stay?" you press, voice softer now.

A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face. "It's complicated," she says, her voice tinged with a weariness you hadn't noticed before. "Your father was here. This was where we met, built our lives, and after he... after everything, I felt like leaving would be... giving up on him. Like walking away from the one thing he was part of."

"But you don't owe this place anything," you say, echoing her earlier words back to her. "If it's just a memory keeping you here, then... maybe we both deserve better."

She nods slowly, her gaze returning to you, eyes softer, more vulnerable than you've seen in a while. "Maybe we do," she admits, voice barely a whisper. She makes a gesture with her hand of tapping a cigarette into an ash tray—a habit you noticed since you were a child. Something she does out of nervousness.

For the first time, it feels like you're seeing eye-to-eye, both carrying parts of the same burden—one that isn't really yours to carry. You've both been holding on, afraid of what letting go might mean.

You never thought you had a bad relationship with your mom. You both just worked and worked, trying to make a life for each other. Survival mode felt like autopilot—there was no time for bonding or deep conversations. Showing care meant keeping each other going, making sure you both were okay. Talking like this felt foreign, almost like a new skill you were both trying to learn. You wonder what prompted it, this sudden need to speak the things you both usually left unsaid

"So Hunter told me you had a girlfriend—"

You face palm, "for fuck sakes."

————

"Dude you told my mom I have a girlfriend?"

"She asked me if there was anyone special in your life!" He puts his hands up defensively.

You groan, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you. What the hell are you supposed to tell your mom if she asks about this again? The image of her face pops into your mind. "Hey Mom, here's my supposed girlfriend I met at a race I snuck off to behind your back. Don't worry, she's not a Sinner—she's a Viper, though."

Luckily, Hunter had walked in earlier from whatever he'd been up to that morning, sparing you from answering your mom's question on the spot. Now, all you have to do is figure out what to say when she inevitably brings it up again.

It's still morning as you both settle into your room, falling into the familiar rhythm of your routine. You sprawl on your bed while he spins around in your chair, his energy infectious. Hunter dives into the latest gossip, animatedly sharing every detail, and you find yourself drifting in and out of his words, letting the sound of his voice wash over you.

You phone then starts ringing, and his voice suddenly stops. You glance at the screen, and let out a heavy sigh. You've really got to change her contact name.

"Who is it?" Hunter asks, hopping off the chair and leaning closer to your phone.

"Is she not your fave Viper anymore?" He jokes, sitting at the foot of your bed. "Come on, pick it up!"

You hesitate, staring at the screen as the name blinks back at you. The tension in the room shifts, Hunter's playful smirk fading as he senses your reluctance.

"Seriously? You're just going to let it ring?"

You shake your head, biting your lip. "I—I can't, Hunter. What do I even say?"

He leans forward, a look of mock seriousness on his face. "How about, 'Hey, Jenna, what's up? Oh me? I'm just living my perfectly normal life—definitely not spiraling into an identity crisis because of you?"

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that threatens to break through. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you know I'm right," he insists, nudging your foot with his. "Just answer it! What's the worst that could happen?"

A million thoughts race through your mind, each one heavier than the last. You're scared of what her voice will bring up—the memories, the feelings, the undeniable shift in your life since you met her. "What if she wants to see me again?"

"Uh, hello?" he raises a brow, giving you a look. "Isn't that the best-case scenario? Getting cozy with your fine, rich Summer Valley girl?"

You hesitate again, and the ringing seems to grow louder. Hunter's eyes are wide, filled with mischief and encouragement. "Come on! Just answer it already!"

"Huh, looks like I can't anymore, the ringing stopped," you smile, relieved that the ringing was cut short.

Hunter's expression shifts from playful to incredulous. "What the fuck, man? Why didn't you answer?"

You shrug, but inside, a storm of emotions brews, each thought heavier than the last. Jenna represents everything you're trying to escape, and yet everything you're drawn toward. She's the pull of a world that's dangerous, one you've seen tear lives apart—your life apart. And every second you spend with her, it feels like you're slipping further down a path you might not come back from.

You can't let that happen.

"Because I can't keep doing this," you say, the words coming out softer than you'd intended. Each moment with her feels like a step away from the life you once knew, from the version of yourself that kept your family safe. You're drawn to Jenna, but she's also a stark reminder of how much you've changed, of how close you're getting to undoing everything your mom worked so hard to protect, everything your father was trying to leave.

She makes you feel alive in ways you haven't felt in years. But that feeling comes with a vulnerability you're not sure you can handle. If you keep this up, you'll lose more than just yourself—you'll risk letting down the family that depended on you to be the strong one. The thought sends a cold chill through you.

"I don't think I'm doing the right thing, Hunter."

Hunter lets out a quiet sigh, watching you closely. "You were doing alright last night. What's got you all worked up now?"

You hesitate, the weight of it clawing at you. Saying it out loud feels like crossing a line you can't come back from. "Things just... feel different," you say, voice barely audible. "I've been doing things I never thought I would, getting in deeper than I should. I don't even recognize myself anymore."

Hunter frowns, studying you. "You're not a completely different person just because you're out there racing. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"It's not just about racing." You rub your face, trying to calm the frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Jenna's got this... hold over me. She's made me cross lines I thought I'd never touch. She's tied up in a world I swore I'd stay away from."

Hunter's gaze softens, like he's trying to understand. "Maybe she's just got you seeing things differently. Doesn't mean you're losing yourself."

But that's the problem—you can feel yourself losing your grip, and the need to push her away rises, desperate, like an instinct. You know that the closer you get to Jenna, the deeper you risk sinking into something that could destroy you both. "Maybe it's better if I keep my distance," you murmur, more to yourself than to him. "I can't let this go any further. She's in the Vipers, and that's not a world I can afford to be part of."

Hunter shakes his head, not fully understanding. "So you're just going to shut her out? Because of some fear? Even if she hasn't been around long, what you two have—it's something real—"

"No." You cut him off, a hint of desperation in your tone. "What I have with her isn't real. Not really. We just thought... we could help each other. But that's all it is."

Even as you say it, though, you can feel the lie settle in your chest, heavier than you expected.

Hunter doesn't know the whole story with Jenna and Percy, or how you got roped into digging up dirt on him. You bite your tongue, stopping yourself from saying too much. A part of you wishes you could tell him, though—because if he knew you were supposedly getting mixed up in things like Ghost Smoke, he'd be the first one pushing you to cut Jenna out of your life for good.

"Alright, let me ask you this," he says, leaning forward. "You've had your first race, you were technically a Sinner. But from what you're saying, it sounds like you've made up your mind. So, what—you're sticking to your car hijacking ways, no racing, right?"

You hesitate—even after everything your mom has told you today, and he catches it.

"There's still a part of you that wants it, Y/n. You're not sure, and that's okay. This isn't about you changing; it's about something else. Unless you can look me in the eye and say you're completely done with this racing stuff, I don't see why you have to push her away."

You don't know why either. Maybe this wasn't about racing entirely and how much you've changed. But it feels foolish now to drag yourself deeper into this world after learning your dad died trying to leave it. Point is, you need to step back before you lose yourself completely.

And as much as it hurts to admit, that might mean losing the girl who makes your heart race. Looks like you found what makes your heart race, but not what's worth risking everything for.

————

"So, should I throw the microwave at your head now or later?"

Jenna tears her gaze away from her phone, frowning at her sister. "What are you even talking about, Aliyah?"

Aliyah grins, enjoying the confusion on her sister's face. "You don't remember? You told me ages ago that if you ever fell for someone again—or got caught waiting on a text—I should throw a microwave at your head."

Jenna sighs, the memory of that ridiculous pact making her groan. "Yeah, well... Wait—hold on. I am not falling for anybody!"

Aliyah raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Says the girl who's been glued to her phone all day waiting on a text. Sounds exactly like someone not falling for anybody."

Jenna scoffs, rolling her eyes, but she can't hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm just... checking my messages. It's not that deep."

Aliyah chuckles. "Right. Not that deep. Just let me know when to start unplugging the microwave."

The older of the two shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "You're so dramatic."

"I just know you too well. Face it, sis—you're hooked."

Jenna scoffs, though her expression softens. "It's... complicated," she admits quietly, her fingers grazing the edge of her phone. "She's—" She stops, catching herself. She's. But she's not about to explain all that to Aliyah.

"Complicated?" Aliyah finishes, feigning shock. "You? In something complicated? Never."

"Okay, fine, enough!" Jenna laughs, trying to brush off her nerves. But her sister's words stick with her. She can't ignore the fact that she's thinking about her way more than she should be. And she knows all too well that if Percy found out, it would be a whole new problem.

Aliyah flops onto the bed, scrolling through her phone with a satisfied grin, fully aware that she's already planted the seed.

The Viper tries to focus on something else, anything else, but her mind keeps drifting back. "You're hooked."

Aliyah tilts her head, watching Jenna with a knowing look. "You don't even deny it. Whoever this person is, they've got you in knots."

Jenna rolls her eyes, trying to dismiss it, but the truth settles heavily in her chest. "It's not like that," she says, almost to herself. "It can't be."

Aliyah raises an eyebrow. "Why not? Because of Dad? Or because of that sleaze Percy?"

Jenna's jaw tightens at the mention of the men, and she looks away, fighting the urge to share too much about her mystery Brimstone girl. "Let's just say... it's not as simple as having someone in your life and calling it a day," she says finally.

Aliyah's playful demeanor fades a bit, sensing the weight in Jenna's voice. "Jenna... are you in some kind of trouble?"

For a moment, Jenna considers coming clean, but she shakes her head, forcing a smile. "When am I not in trouble?"

Aliyah's smile falters slightly, guilt seeping through her playful demeanor. She shifts in her seat, Jenna wouldn't even know this kind of trouble if it weren't for her.

Jenna catches the look in her sister's eyes and instantly regrets her words.

"Aliyah, don't," she says softly, the tension in the room shifting. "You know I don't blame you."

"I know, but I can't help feeling responsible," Aliyah whispers, looking down at her hands. The unspoken reality—that Jenna's entanglement with the Vipers was to shield Aliyah—lingered between them, heavier than any words.

"Dad shouldn't have made you—"

Jenna reaches out, squeezing her sister's hand. "We're in this together, remember? Whatever happens, I'm the one who chose to stay."

Aliyah looks up, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But it's not fair. You shouldn't have to carry this for me."

Jenna offers a small, sad smile. "Family isn't about fair. It's about being there, no matter what."

Aliyah's shoulders slump as she bites her lower lip, a familiar crease forming on her brow. The guilt that's been gnawing at her shows clearly in her eyes, and Jenna's heart clenches at the sight.

"I hate this," Aliyah whispers, her voice wavering. "Every time you walk out that door, I keep wondering if you're coming back. And it's because of me."

Jenna's tough facade cracks, and she leans forward, wrapping an arm around Aliyah's shoulders. "Hey, don't go there," she murmurs. The words are steady, meant to reassure, but the tightness in her chest betrays her. For a moment, she lets herself imagine a life free of this cycle—a life where neither of them has to look over their shoulder.

"I won't be stuck for long," Jenna finally admits, a determined edge creeping into her voice. She pulls back just enough to look Aliyah in the eyes, hoping to pass on some of that conviction. "I'm working on something, alright? This isn't forever."

Aliyah searches Jenna's face, her eyes widening with hope and hints of disbelief. "You mean it?"

Jenna nods, "I mean it. I promise."

Suddenly the sadness in Aliyah's expression is replaced with a smirk, "Does she have anything to do with it?" she asks glancing at her sister's phone.

"Don't change the subject," Jenna says, trying to sound stern but unable to keep the corner of her mouth from quirking up.

Aliyah's smirk grows, the earlier heaviness giving way to something warmer, more familiar. "I knew it. Your mystery girl isn't just another risk, is she?"

Jenna rolls her eyes but can't fully suppress a small, reluctant smile. "It's complicated, Ali. She's... well, she's a lot more than I expected."

Probably the biggest risk of all, Jenna thought

Aliyah's smirk softens into a genuine smile. "Good. You deserve more than this mess, Jen."

Jenna's heart tightens at her sister's words. "Yeah," she whispers, more to herself than to Aliyah. "Maybe I do."

Suddenly an idea stirs into the younger Ortega's mind. In a swift motion, her hand darts out and snatches Jenna's phone from the bed. Before Jenna can fully process what's happening, Aliyah is already on her feet, eyes dancing with mischief as she clutches the phone to her chest like a prize.

"Aliyah!" Jenna's voice sharpens "Seriously? Hand it over."

Aliyah tilts her head playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Relax, big sister. Just checking if your mystery girl left a love note or two."

Jenna takes a step forward, trying to maintain her composure as she reaches out for the phone. "I mean it, Ali. Give. It. Back."

Aliyah shifts her weight, effortlessly dodging Jenna's reach as she chuckles. Taking advantage of the height, she holds the phone above her head, reading the chat messages. "Greaser? Pet names already?"

"Aliyah."

"Left on read for almost three hours? And here I thought you had game."

"I don't like her."

"Sure you don't," Aliyah teases, tapping the screen. "Let's see if your non-existent feelings show up when I—"

Before she can finish, the familiar ringing tone starts, and Jenna's heart drops. Aliyah's eyes widen with mock surprise. "Oops. Guess we'll see soon enough."

"Aliyah!" Jenna lunges, grabbing the phone from her sister's hand after the phone rang for a while. Without hesitation, she swiftly hits the end call button. The silence that follows crackles with tension as Jenna clutches the phone, her face flushed.

Aliyah bursts out laughing. "Wow, if that's not feelings, I don't know what is."

Jenna takes a steadying breath, unable to mask the way her pulse races. "It's not like that," she insists, more to herself than to her sister.

She couldn't help but wonder why you didn't answer your phone. You had more than enough time to answer the phone while it was ringing.

————

Two days have passed since you left Jenna's call unanswered. The rhythmic clinking of tools filled the garage as you worked tirelessly on your latest project—the stolen Aston Martin. For the past two days, the garage had been your refuge, the metallic smell of oil offering a sense of your old routine amidst the chaos. In that span, you had buried yourself in work, starting early in the morning and ending late into the night, determined to keep your mind from straying.

You stepped back to study the Aston Martin, now wrapped in a deep green that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. The change from the initial black colour was supposed to help, to make the car feel less like a painful reminder of her. But as you ran your hand over the freshly smoothed surface, sighing at the ghost of memories it evoked, you realized that nothing had changed. No matter how much you worked, every inch of that car still spoke her name.

Your phone buzzed on the workbench, a sharp intrusion that pulled your attention. A name lit up the screen—Jenna's. A message providing you the address of the meeting, nothing else. Seeing her message made your chest ache with a guilt you tried to ignore. You glanced at the glowing screen, your resolve wavering for a moment before you shoved the phone into a drawer, the metallic clang echoing in the small space.

Out of sight, out of mind.

As you smoothed out the last stubborn air pockets on the Aston Martin's fresh wrap, the sound of footsteps echoed in the garage. It was nearly 1 a.m. and no one should be around at this hour.

"Y/n?"

You turned at the familiar voice, eyes narrowing slightly before recognition softened your expression. "Mikey?"

She walked toward you, eyes curious as they swept over the car. "What are you doing here so late?" she asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

You shrugged, forcing a nonchalant tone. "Just working on a car. Needed the distraction. And you?"

Mikey tilted her head, not satisfied with the answer. "I felt like going for a drive. Thought I'd stop by first."

Her gaze shifted between you and the green Aston Martin, catching the tension in the air.

"This is the car you rolled up in with your girl right? What was on the surveillance?"

Ahh yes my girl. Now you need to come up with a believable break up story for the crew.

You clenched your jaw at her question, the mention of Jenna sending a pang through your chest. "Uh, yeah," you muttered, hoping to keep the conversation brief. Mikey's sharp intuition wasn't something to underestimate.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You sigh, "something like that, I don't really want to talk about it."

Mikey nods carefully, and deliberates her next words before speaking, "Did you want to join me on my driv—

"Okay I brought Chinese!" Hunter's voice booms through the garage.

Hunter set the bags down on a nearby workbench, the crinkling of paper and the scent of takeout breaking the heavy silence. He glanced between you and Mikey, sensing the charged atmosphere and shooting you a raised brow.

"Am I interrupting something?" Hunter asked, his usual playful tone laced with curiosity as he tossed a napkin your way.

You caught it mid-air, forcing a smirk to hide the knot in your chest. "Just working late," you replied, shrugging as if that explained everything.

Mikey's expression softened, the slight edge from moments ago replaced with a grin. "Nope, you're just in time. I was about to drag Y/n out for a drive," she said, her voice lighter now, as if trying to pull you into an easier conversation.

Hunter's brows lifted. "Oh? That's a miracle. She's been glued to that car for the last 48 hours" he teased, nudging your arm.

The mention of the past few days made your stomach tighten. You hadn't told Hunter or anyone else why you'd been so buried in work. The truth was, it kept you from thinking about Jenna. The guilt, the confusion—it all seemed simpler when muffled under the sound of engines and the smell of oil.

Mikey leaned against the Aston Martin, folding her arms. "Come on, you've been cooped up in here long enough. What's a quick drive gonna hurt?"

Before you could answer, Hunter grabbed a takeout container and tossed another to you. "Food first, you too Mikey. And then drive second," he said with a grin. "Don't think we'll let you skip out on both."

You took the container, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. Maybe stepping away from the garage—and everything it represented—would be good for you. Even if just for a moment.

You could tell a lot about a person from how they drove, and never in a million years did you think Mikey would be a careful driver. She would teeter on surpassing street limits, but was a relatively relaxed and smooth driver.

The car rolled through the night, the city gradually giving way to quieter roads framed by dark silhouettes of trees. A comfortable silence settled among the three of you, broken only by Hunter's occasional commentary and Mikey's bursts of laughter when he cracked a particularly absurd joke.

"Remember that time you tried to drive with only three wheels?" Hunter leaned forward from the back seat, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You swore it would work."

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head at the memory. "And you were the one who dared me to, you idiot."

Mikey laughed, the sound deep and genuine. "And you actually tried it? That's commitment."

"Or stupidity," Hunter added, and the three of you erupted into laughter that carried through the night, momentarily easing the tension that had wrapped itself around your chest for days.

The conversation meandered through old stories and lighthearted teasing as the car hummed smoothly down the open road. But then, in a pause between topics, Mikey glanced sideways at you, her gaze more serious. "So, do you plan on racing again anytime soon?"

The question hung in the air, a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Before you could respond, Hunter's smirk dropped. He leaned back in his seat, his voice more subdued. "Don't bother, Mads. She doesn't know."

Your eyes flicked to Mikey, watching her reaction. She didn't miss the slight hesitation in your expression, the way your hands clenched. Her brow furrowed, a mixture of concern and curiosity flashing across her face.

"Still figuring it out, huh?" she said softly. "If you haven't made up your mind yet and you're not already back on the track, it's probably a no."

You kept your gaze on the road, the rhythmic whoosh of the wind outside acting as a buffer for your thoughts. Mikey's insight stung more than you'd admit; she was right. Your lack of being back on the track had to mean something.

"Maybe," you said finally, offering no real answer. Hunter glanced between you and Mikey.

Mikey settled back in her seat, a subtle understanding flickering in her eyes as her expression softened. "Trust me," she said, her voice calm yet pointed. "Most racers, when they're trying to get something off their mind, they hit the streets and push their limits. But you? You're here, spending your nights working on a car. That says a lot about where you really want to be."

She was the first person to openly discourage you from racing, and you couldn't help but appreciate it. It felt different, almost liberating—a break from the endless pressure to prove yourself. For once, someone saw the side of you that wasn't caught up in the thrill, and it was a relief.

But there was also that suspicious part of you. Mikey was close to Anton, and she knew how much Anton wanted you in the crew. Does she fear that you'll replace her spot in the club if you join? You brush off your intrusive thoughts and try to enjoy the rest of your drive.

————

Two more days had passed since Jenna had sent the text with the updated meeting address, and the silence on the other end gnawed at her. She leaned against the balcony railing outside her room, eyes skimming the darkened city skyline in the distance each blinking light a reminder of how life pulsed and moved without pause.

The air was crisp, biting against her skin as she shivered, but it did nothing to numb the restless ache in her chest. She scrolled back through the last messages, the words on the screen staring back at her like a mockery of the certainty she'd once felt. It wasn't like you to go this long without responding, but then again what did she know about you? You were the definition of uncertainty, you couldn't figure your own shit out how could you help with hers. She should've seen the red flags for your ghosting tendencies from the first time you met. You had no reason to help her, there was no personal gain.

Aliyah's voice broke through her thoughts, calling from inside. "Jenna, you're doing it again."

Jenna blinked, tearing her gaze from the phone as Aliyah stepped out onto the balcony, eyes filled with concern.

"You're still thinking about her, aren't you?" Aliyah's tone was soft, not judgmental, but knowing.

Jenna sighed, slipping her phone into her pocket as if hiding it would erase the gnawing uncertainty. "I can't help it. Something's off. She's... pulling away, I can feel it."

Aliyah's expression shifted, guilt briefly clouding her features before she masked it with a small, encouraging smile. "Maybe she just needs time. You know how it is—this life, this... chaos we're in. It's not easy."

Jenna met her sister's eyes, searching for reassurance that felt out of reach. "Yeah, maybe." But it wasn't enough. Aliyah didn't know the extent of your relationship. How you were going to help her get dirt on Percy. How you were her best bet.

Jenna had noticed for a while now that Percy was spending a lot more time in Brimstone, and that anything she could find would be found in that shady town.

"I saw the messages with her... something about a meeting? If she won't go with you, maybe I could?" Aliyah ventured, her tone eager but tentative.

Jenna's reaction was immediate, sharp. "Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

Aliyah crossed her arms, a defiant glint in her eyes. "Come on, Jenna. It could be good to do something together for once."

"I'm serious, Aliyah. This isn't up for discussion. It's not safe," Jenna said, her voice firm, eyes blazing with protectiveness.

Aliyah lifted her chin, stubbornness radiating from her. "Too late. I don't care," she declared, turning on her heel and striding out before Jenna could argue.

"Aliyah, wait—"

Jenna's phone pinged, jolting her from the tense silence that followed Aliyah's departure. For a split second, hope fluttered in her chest—a foolish, fragile thing—as she thought it might be you, breaking the days of silence that gnawed at her. But that hope quickly crumbled as she glanced at the screen.

It was from Percy.

Get yourself dolled up. Race tomorrow night. Be there. And you're on my arm. Look the part, don't embarrass me.

Jenna stared at the messages, her fingers itching to throw the phone across the room. He knew exactly how much he got under her skin and used it at every opportunity. And tonight was no different; he needed her there, not just as a racer, but as his accessory, some trophy to drape over his arm. Like she was at the Sinner race almost a month ago. It was a power move, one he'd pulled too many times, trying to keep her bound to him and his schemes.

Another ping. Don't even think about bailing. You know what happens when I'm not happy.

Jenna scoffed, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She could imagine Percy already preening in the mirror, smugly counting on her to show up, loyal and subservient as always. She could almost hear his oily tone, the mock concern he would flash when she hesitated, only to follow it with another thinly veiled threat. Percy loved to remind her how "lucky" she was that he'd given her a place in the Vipers—and what a shame it would be to lose it.

Jenna pushed away from the railing, the metallic chill of it seeping through her skin as she stood upright. The city lights looked dull now, swallowed by the storm brewing in her mind. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a part of her tempted to tell Percy to shove it. But she knew better. Defying him could mean losing her only leverage, the tiny foothold she had in this game of shadows and lies.

With a sharp sigh, she typed out a reply, each keystroke feeling like a betrayal to herself.

Swallowing her disgust, she replied. Fine. I'll be there.

It was almost too easy to imagine the smirk that would be stretching across his face as he read her reply. She could feel her muscles tense, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface, made worse by the fact that she'd lost any sign of you as a reprieve.

The phone slipped back into her pocket, but the weight of it pressed heavier than ever. The ache in her chest turned sharper, a reminder that even though she needed you, even though you were the one who was supposed to stand beside her, the silence between you spoke volumes. She just wished it wasn't so deafening.

Her eyes drifted to the hallway where Aliyah had disappeared moments before. She couldn't let her sister get pulled deeper into this mess, not when it felt like she was barely holding her own head above water. Yet, with every passing moment, the line between protecting the people she loved and keeping them at a distance grew blurrier. And Percy's summons felt like another shove towards the edge she was already teetering on.

Tomorrow night, she'd play the role. But Jenna swore, as she stared out at the city, that she would find a way out of this tangled mess.

Aliyah popped back into the room, her eyes bright but cautious as she took in Jenna's guarded stance. "Hey, so, the family's heading out to catch a movie right now. Are you coming?" Her tone was light, hopeful even, as if she already anticipated the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

Jenna's gaze shifted to her sister, the corners of her mouth pulling into a tight line. The unspoken question lingered between them, though Aliyah's expression faltered as she awaited an answer.

"Is Dad going?" Jenna's voice came out sharper than she intended, and Aliyah's smile dimmed slightly.

"Yeah, he is," Aliyah admitted, her eyes darting down for a moment before meeting Jenna's again, trying to read her sister's mood.

Jenna's jaw tensed as she looked past Aliyah, the weight of years of resentment and disappointment pressing down like a vice. "Then no," she said flatly, the finality in her voice leaving no room for argument.

Aliyah's face fell, but she nodded, understanding etched into her features. She didn't push, didn't try to convince Jenna otherwise. The silence between them grew heavy, filled with all the things they weren't saying.

"Okay," Aliyah said softly, turning to leave. But before she stepped out, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, eyes shadowed with a mix of concern and quiet resignation. "Just... don't stay up all night, okay?"

Jenna forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. I won't."

But as Aliyah's footsteps faded down the hall, Jenna knew she was lying. The night was already hers to wrestle with, haunted by the things she couldn't change and the person she wished she didn't need.

————

Before you knew it, Friday had arrived—the day of the meeting. The meeting you weren't planning to attend. You started your day the same way you had over the past few days—in the garage.

You had been avoiding your phone all morning, afraid of what new messages might appear. Each buzz was a test of your resolve, a reminder that giving in would undo everything you had decided. You needed to stay strong, keep your distance, and not let the past pull you back in.

The project car in front of you demanded all your attention. You poured every ounce of focus into it, the sleek curves of the Aston Martin glistening under the dim garage lights. Tonight, you were determined to take it out for a spin, using it as an excuse to push out the stress gnawing at your mind.

The garage was unusually quiet, lacking its usual bustle. The regulars, including Anton and Mikey, were conspicuously absent, skipping their usual stops at the garage. You welcomed the peace; the last thing you needed was their relentless teasing about the car's dubious origins.

The sound of footsteps broke the monotony, and you didn't need to look up to know it was Hunter.

"Got a minute?" His voice came from the doorway, casual but laced with concern.

You nodded, wiping your hands on a rag before tossing it aside and standing up. "Yeah, what's up?"

"So you're really done with Jenna?" he asks wasting no time.

You couldn't even bring yourself to say the words.

"I'm hoping the drive with Madison the other day doesn't mean yes," he frowns. "I don't think she's right for you."

"Neither do I dude. I never said I wanted anything with Mikey. We literally all went on a friendly drive, nothing more."

"Good, she kind of gives me an off vibe," he shares. "I mean, she's cool and all, but there's just something... I don't know. 

Hunter leans against the workbench, studying you. "But that still leaves Jenna," he says, quieter now. "Are you sure cutting her off is what you really want?"

Your chest tightens, and you look away, focusing on the glint of metal on the project car. "I don't know," you admit. "But staying away feels like the only way to keep things from going up in flames."

Hunter's eyes narrow with concern, but then he smirks, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Just don't forget—sometimes running from the fire only makes it burn hotter when it catches up," he finishes with a wink.

You roll your eyes, but a small chuckle escapes despite the tension in your chest. "Trust you to turn everything into a dramatic line."

————

Hunter left around the 6 p.m. mark and time slipped through your fingers, and before you knew it, the clock had struck 8 p.m. The Aston Martin stood before you, polished and ready. It looked solid, steady—exactly what you needed. Without a second thought, you grabbed the keys, took a breath to steady your nerves, and slid into the driver's seat. Tonight, it would be just you, the car, and the open road.

You eased the car through the streets of Brimstone, your hands gripping the wheel, your mind drifting as you weaved through the winding roads. The town looked different at night—darker, quieter, with the occasional flicker of neon signs casting long shadows on the empty streets. You passed by abandoned buildings, alleyways where the stray figures of drug addicts huddled together, their glazed eyes staring into the nothingness that had consumed them. They barely registered your presence, too lost in their own world.

You drove without a clear destination, allowing the car to take you wherever it wanted to go. The sound of tires on asphalt was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. The rush of the road beneath you, the flicker of streetlights, the occasional blur of other cars passing by—it was all you needed. Just you and the road.

And then your mind went to her. Of course it did. How could it not when you were sitting in this car. You were fooling yourself by thinking a single car wrap can get the job done.

You remembered the day you took this car, how you spilled your guts to her in the midst of your chaos. The way she'd listened—really listened—and kissed your cheek when you dropped her off. The memory was so vivid, you could almost feel her lips on your skin again.

She should be heading to the meeting now. The one you weren't going to attend. The one she was walking into, blind. No idea what it was really about, no clue what she was getting herself into. Alone.

For all you knew, she thought Ghost Smoke was some sort of cereal. But no. You knew better than that. She wasn't stupid. She was smart, and she could handle herself. You tried to tell yourself that, tried to calm your racing thoughts. She could handle herself. She would be fine. Nothing bad would happen.

But even as you tried to convince yourself, the doubt crept back in. The image of her walking into that meeting—unprepared, vulnerable—made your stomach churn. You couldn't help but picture the worst. What if they used her? What if she got caught up in something deeper than either of you realized?

But then, as you took a sharp turn, you found yourself on the road you hadn't meant to be on. The track.

The place where it all went down.

You didn't intend to end up here. Not tonight. But there it was, the race track standing still under the muted glow of the moon, the outline of the old fence barely visible against the darkness. The stories rushed back like a wave—your father, Anton's dad, both gone in an instant after the crash that took their lives. The race had been their last, the night that changed everything.

You slowed as you approached the entrance, the cars long gone. There was no movement, no sign of life, just the emptiness that had followed the tragedy. The track had been abandoned ever since. The Sinners stopped racing there out of respect, unwilling to return to the place that had claimed so much.

You parked the car on the side of the road. For a long moment, you just sat there, the hum of the engine ticking down as the silence of the night pressed in. The weight of the past, of your father's legacy, of everything you thought you knew about this town and the racing world, settled on your shoulders.

You couldn't help but feel the ghosts of the past watching, waiting, taunting you—what are you going to do Y/n?

You shifted the car into drive, the road ahead a blur.

————

"Can you not be mad at me anymore please?"

Jenna rolls her eyes, frustration evident in her posture. "I told you not to come. I seriously can't believe you followed me here."

Aliyah huffs, crossing her arms. "You're in this mess because of me, and god forbid I want to help! It's not like your girlfriend was dying to come with you, so you should at least be grateful I'm here."

Jenna's stomach clenches at the mention of girlfriend, but she holds her tongue. She's too tired for this. She could've corrected Aliyah for the thousandth time, but it wasn't worth the fight now. Better to focus on getting this over with. At least until this little mission was done, she needed to push all thoughts of you to the back of her mind.

You're not here anyway. You're not helping her anymore.

Aliyah continues, clearly trying to lighten the tension, but there's a note of sarcasm in her voice. "Seriously, there's no way you're not happy I'm here. Look at this place!" She gestures toward the imposing, dark warehouse ahead, a shudder running through her as she takes it in. "It's straight out of a horror movie."

Jenna doesn't disagree. The place does feel like something out of a nightmare. She can feel the resentment bubbling inside her, a sharp, unwanted feeling that she tries to push away but can't. How dare you ghost her, leave her to face this alone? If you were here, Aliyah wouldn't be, and maybe she wouldn't feel so exposed, so vulnerable. But you aren't, and her little sister is. The sting of abandonment hangs in the air, heavier than the looming shadow of the warehouse ahead.

Jenna sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing in from all sides. With one final glance at the door to the meeting place, her shoulders slumped in resignation. "Fine," she muttered, voice tinged with exhaustion. "But stay close, stay quiet. Don't do anything stupid."

Aliyah gave a small, relieved nod. "You've got my word."

Jenna leads the way into the dark warehouse, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold, concrete floor. The place is completely abandoned, with broken windows casting faint, eerie light into the room. There's nothing in sight but dust and the lingering smell of stale air.

Aliyah looks around nervously, her eyes darting from corner to corner, but all she can see are the dim shadows creeping along the walls. The place feels like a ghost town, unsettlingly empty.

"Is this really the right place?" Aliyah's voice is low, the uncertainty clear in her tone.

Jenna pauses, squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of the scene. She's not sure why the meeting is set up like this, or why it feels like they're walking into the unknown, but she can't let herself doubt now. "Yeah," she answers, her voice steady but with a hint of something unspoken. "This is it."

They keep walking, the air growing colder as they venture deeper into the warehouse. Aliyah keeps glancing at her sister, confusion written across her face. "What exactly is this meeting about?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern. "I mean, what's going on here? Is this about the club or—?"

Jenna cuts her off, shaking her head slightly, her gaze focused ahead. "Don't worry about it," she says, her tone sharp and final. "Just stay close."

And then, they saw him.

He was standing in the far corner of the warehouse, facing away from them, his silhouette sharp against the dim light filtering in through the broken windows. Dressed all in black, his figure was imposing in a way that sent a chill down Jenna's spine. He hadn't noticed them yet.

Instinctively, both sisters ducked behind a stack of old, dusty boxes, their breath held as they exchanged a look. The quiet tension between them thickened, and in that moment, everything felt so much more real—so much more dangerous.

On the phone, the man spoke with a low, almost mechanical tone. "Yes, boss. I'm the first one here, waiting on the other two."

Jenna made a mental note on the words. So this was a meeting between three people. Percy would be one of them.

Aliyah's voice was barely a whisper. "Do you know who that is?"

Jenna didn't answer at first. Her eyes stayed fixed on the man, analyzing his every movement, trying to make sense of the situation. Finally, she shook her head. No, she didn't know him. But something about this felt wrong—like they were in deeper than they had anticipated.

She reached out, squeezing Aliyah's hand tightly to calm her nerves. "Stay quiet," she murmured. There was no turning back now.

Jenna's heart skipped a beat when the door creaked open, and two figures stepped into the dim light. Percy walked in first, his usual calm confidence unmistakable, but it was the figure beside him that made Jenna's breath catch in her throat.

She remembered seeing him at the Raven race. The night you were racing. What the hell was he doing here? Her mind raced, the weight of the situation crashing down harder than before. Why was he with Percy?  Was he the club leader? This meeting was about something far worse than she could have imagined.

Aliyah's grip on her hand tightened, her eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. But Jenna couldn't look away. She barely registered the tension in her sister's hand, too focused on the strange alliance before her.

Without a word, Percy and the Raven exchanged brief glances before walking further into the warehouse with the mysterious person in all black. The air around them seemed to thicken, the sound of their voices indistinguishable.

Jenna's pulse quickened as her instincts screamed that she needed to get closer, to hear more.

She crouched low, glancing over at Aliyah with an intense, silent plea. "Stay here," she whispered sharply, her voice low but firm, knowing the weight of the situation.

Aliyah nodded, her face pale with fear.

Jenna barely gave her sister another glance before she began moving, silent as a shadow, staying low to the ground as she crept closer to the three men. 

But the floor of the warehouse wasn't as kind as she hoped. Her foot caught on a jagged edge, and in an instant, her body lurched forward, her heart skipping a beat.

Time slowed, the rush of panic surged through her, and in that split second, her heart seized with terror. She was going to fall—she was going to make a noise and blow their cover. Aliyah was going to be in danger.

She braced for the inevitable crash, for the sound of her body hitting the ground and the betrayal of her hiding place.

But just as the world tilted beneath her, strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back from the brink. Her heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She blinked, disoriented, but when she looked up, her world seemed to freeze.

There you were, standing in front of her, holding her steady. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. You were here. You had come for her.

In the six days you had ghosted her, Jenna had planned what she was going to do if she ever saw you again. First was a slap, possibly the silent treatment—a taste of your own medicine. She even toyed with the idea of keying one of your cars. But falling into your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck and letting out a sigh of relief was certainly not part of the plan.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You could feel her breath against your chest, soft and steady, and despite everything, her warmth was exactly what you needed.

Jenna pulled back slightly, her hands lingering on your arms as she looked up at you, her eyes searching for something—answers, maybe, or just reassurance. She was still upset with your disappearing act. "You really are something," she muttered, her voice softer than usual, almost vulnerable.

You couldn't find the right words, not when your heart was racing from the sudden rush of emotions. Instead, you simply nodded, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a quiet acknowledgment of everything unspoken between you. "We'll talk afterwards," you whispered.

She nodded, knowing you both have a bigger issue to deal with at the present moment.  You notice Jenna worriedly glance behind you and you follow her gaze to see another girl you've never seen before.

Jenna noticed the fear that was once on her sister's face melted into a mischievous grin as she looked at her, raising an eyebrow and pointing a finger at you while mouthing, Greaser?

You'll have to figure out who that is later, but for now you take your attention away from the girl who is very close to you, and look up at the scene in front of you. Pissy, the Raven crew leader, and an unfamiliar man.

“Who thought holding the meeting here was a good idea?” Percy muttered, annoyance dripping from his tone as he glanced at the dust clinging to his shoes.

“We can’t afford any slip-ups,” the unknown man replied curtly. “Let’s keep this brief.”

The Raven crew leader smirked, eyes glinting in the dim warehouse light. “We’ve already pushed about fifty keys of Ghost Smoke into Brimstone over the past two weeks,” he said, voice smooth but full of intent. “No hiccups, no heat—just a steady stream. And trust me, the streets are starting to bite. By the time the next batch hits, they’ll be begging for more.”

"Okay, and you Percy? How's the Vipers' distribution going?"

You clenched your jaw as the conversation confirmed your worst suspicions. These guys were flooding Brimstone with product, exploiting the town's vulnerable, turning the Brimstoners into their playthings. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jenna stealthily recording the exchange between the three men, every tense word.

Percy shifted uneasily, a flash of frustration in his eyes. "We've moved about eight keys so far," he said tightly, the disappointment in his voice evident. The number wasn't enough compared to the Raven's progress. "It’s not easy for a Viper to operate on Sinner territory without drawing attention."

"Maybe if you'd stop cozying up to your girl at races and focus on your job, things would be different," the unknown man snapped, his tone biting.

His girl?

"Relax," Percy retorted, his voice strained but defiant. "No one wants Brimstone to become a zombieland more than I do. Some of those Sinners have been getting way too fucking cocky."

Jacob, the Raven leader, let out a low chuckle and placed a hand on Percy's shoulder. "Easy there," he said, smirking at the unknown man. "I can’t blame the guy. It’s hard to stay focused when your girl’s a knockout like that." He finishes with a whistle.

A whispered "ew" sounded behind you, and you felt Jenna tense, a silent fury radiating from her. Anger roared in your chest. Not only were these men scheming to drown Brimstone in Ghost Smoke, but now they were talking about Jenna like she was just another trophy. The rage that simmered inside you sharpened into a razor's edge.

But now was not the time to get angry. You had to remain calm, get all the info you can and get the fuck out of there.

Jacob, the Raven leader, crossed his arms, his gaze sharp as he looked between Percy and the unknown man. “And what if this operation doesn’t go as planned? What happens if someone decides to interfere? I know you tried this once and failed.”

The tension in the room crackled like static. The unknown man’s expression darkened, a slow, menacing smile creeping across his face. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, voice low and chilling. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of Bullet and Apex.”

You freeze.

But before you could fully process the implication, a sudden noise shattered the silence about 15 meters to your left.

“Hey! Who’s there?” one of the men barked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Heart thundering, you whipped your head in the direction of the sound and spotted the familiar mop of curls.

Hunter.

He was crouched low, eyes wide with a reckless determination that sent a jolt of both dread and relief through you. Before you could even react, Jenna’s urgent voice sliced through the fog of panic clouding your mind.

“We have to go,” she hissed, fingers locking around your arm like a lifeline and yanking you into motion. The edge in her voice snapped you back to the present, and your body jolted into action. The girl—clearly someone Jenna trusted—was already sprinting ahead, weaving between crates like shadows. You cast a quick look back, your gaze catching Hunter’s for a split second as he, too, bolted to follow.

This was a fight against time, and survival was the only thing that mattered.

Jenna’s grip on your hand anchored you as you both tore out of the warehouse, feet pounding the ground as adrenaline roared through your veins. The cold air bit at your skin as you charged towards the first car in sight—yours.

“Stop right there!” A shout from behind sent a surge of terror down your spine.

“Hey!” you yelled to the girl ahead. She glanced back, eyes sharp, just in time to catch the keys you tossed her. She was closer to the car, and with no time to spare, she slipped into the driver’s seat.

The three of you scrambled in—a blur of limbs and frenzied breaths. Jenna flung herself into the passenger seat, while you and Hunter dove into the back, your heart hammering in your chest like it might explode.

“Go, go, go! Step on it, Aliyah,” Jenna commanded.

Aliyah didn’t hesitate. The engine roared to life, and the Aston Martin peeled away from the warehouse, tires screeching against the asphalt. The last thing you saw in the rearview was the shadowy figure of the man pursuing you, growing smaller as you sped into the dark night, leaving danger and revelations in your wake.

No one dared to speak. The air in the car was thick with tension, the adrenaline still simmering just beneath the surface. Once Aliyah had put enough distance between them and the warehouse, she eased off the gas, slowing to a steady, legal pace. They were in Summer Valley now, the bright lights of the town casting fleeting shadows across their faces.

Ten minutes ticked by in silence before the red glow of a traffic light gave them a momentary pause. It was then that everything unraveled at once.

“Hunter, what the hell are you doing here?” you demanded, voice tight.

“How the fuck did you go from boosting cars to this?” Hunter fired back, eyes wide with disbelief.

Aliyah leaned back, throwing a teasing look Jenna’s way. “You didn’t tell me Greaser was cute!”

"Since when did you know how to drive?” Jenna shot back at Aliyah.

The car was filled with a low hum of murmured conversations, each person settling into their own thoughts as the road stretched on.

“Did you follow me here?” you asked Hunter, still in disbelief.

“Yeah, I did. And I’m glad I did.” His voice was filled with concern. “What the hell are you mixed up in, Y/n?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m just finding out about all this today, too.”

Hunter let out a frustrated sigh. “We need to tell Anton. They’re trying to destroy Brimstone.”

You exhaled, mirroring his sigh. “Yeah, this is bad. Real bad.”

As soon as Anton’s name left his lips, your mind raced back to the meeting. What the men had said.

Hunter could see it in your eyes—he knew exactly what you were thinking, and the tension in the air between you both grew thicker.

Up front, Jenna’s voice broke the silence. “Okay, yes, I get it! She’s cute. Can you just… shush? She’s right there,” she muttered in exasperation, turning back to her sister, who was practically grinning.

Jenna slouched back in her seat, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. This was not what she expected when she set out to gather dirt on Percy. She couldn’t wrap her head around it—Percy, the same person she thought she knew, was tangled up in a plot to destroy Brimstone. Yeah, he was a jerk, but this... this was murder, drawn out and deliberate.

The crew she had once considered family was directly linked to the distribution of Ghost Smoke, targeting people from the town over.  She knew there was always a rivalry between Brimstone and Summer Valley, but she didn't think it would resort to elimination techniques. The shock of it all left her breathless, the pieces clicking together with an unsettling finality. 

She got her dirt. But this feels far from over.

Despite everything, Jenna couldn’t ignore the pull to check on you. She knew you had to be feeling the weight of it all—learning that your town was the target of such destruction. But there was also the anger. The unresolved frustration from you walking away earlier. She couldn’t just let you back in without confronting it, could she?

But as the drive wore on, the pull to turn back softened, and she glanced at you instead. You were lost in your own world, staring out the window, looking like you’d retreated into yourself. Nothing could touch you right now. And she didn’t blame you. Tonight had been a mess.

She turned her gaze to Hunter, raising an eyebrow, silently asking if he knew how to handle this. He met her eyes, shaking his head in that subtle way that said, Not tonight.

Jenna nodded in acknowledgment, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. She gave a quiet command to Aliyah, who turned the car toward their place. The drive was silent, the weight of everything hanging thick in the air. When the car finally stopped, both girls exited, but Jenna couldn’t help but glance back at you one last time. Her gaze softened, seeing how much this was affecting you. You didn’t look at her once as you stayed seated in the back, your face unreadable.

Somehow, without even realizing it, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Hunter’s car. The shift had happened so subtly that you hadn’t even registered the transition. You assumed once the girls had left, Hunter must've taken over the drive. But the ride felt endless, every minute dragging in uncomfortable silence, like you were trying to outrun the truth without really knowing how.

When Hunter finally pulled into his driveway, the car came to a stop, and the air between you two felt suffocating. No words were spoken for a long moment.

Finally, Hunter broke the stillness. His voice was low, sincere, and filled with an understanding that made your stomach churn. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, his tone full of empathy. “That must’ve been a hell of a lot to take in.”

It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. You could feel the weight of the words pressing down on you like a heavy stone.

Bullet and Apex. Your dad and Anton’s dad, their racing names. You had tried to convince yourself that you had misheard at the meeting, that it was some twisted misunderstanding. But as you turned to look at Hunter, his pitiful eyes told you everything you needed to know. You weren’t wrong.

Your father and uncle’s deaths wasn't an accident. They’d been taken from you on purpose. And now, the truth of that hit you harder than anything else.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

₊˚ʚ Rain in the woods (Ford Pines x fem!reader) ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

part 2

author note: hey friends, so im sorry for taking so long, i wanted to post it this Saturday but i got lots of work, it's not proofread so I'm so so so sorry for any mistakes, i promise ill fix them a bit later!

also im working on some pre portal stan x reader x ford fic and it's filled with what we love the most - glass and angst (smut included!!), i know i always say it, but im so excited to share it with you guys <3

nsfw, minors dni

Stanford Pines — the enigmatic genius who’s always just beyond your reach, a mind so vast, it feels like trying to grasp the stars. You should be focused, but your gaze keeps flicking back to him. You’re utterly captivated, heart racing, mind spinning.

And then it happens. One moment, you're holding the mug, your fingers curled around it and the next it slips. No! The mug tumbles from your grasp, its ceramic form hitting the floor with a sharp, brutal crack that echoes through the room. You watch in helpless horror as it shatters into a thousand pieces, each fragment piercing the silence like a blade through your chest.

Your heart skips, thundering in your ears, and your face goes hot with embarrassment, an awful flush spreading across your skin as you turn your wide, panicked eyes toward Ford. His gaze meets yours, a mix of surprise and concern, but it’s his calm that gets you. 

“Oh shit—” your voice cracks and you curse yourself silently, mortified. Of course, you would screw up right now, in front of him. Stanford fucking Pines, the man whose brilliance makes your own thoughts feel clumsy, an intellectual giant, and here you are, tripping over a damn mug. The pieces of it seem to scatter in slow motion, like a dream you can’t wake up from. You’re so stupid. You feel so stupid.

“I’m sorry— I'm so sorry,” you ramble, desperate to somehow undo the mess, your hands trembling at your sides. You want to sink into the floor, disappear, fade away. How could you be this careless?

But then Ford takes a step forward, and everything inside you freezes. His eyes are soft, so much softer than you expected, softer than anyone else’s gaze ever could be. He’s not angry, not even irritated. Instead, he’s. . . calm. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says, a chuckle escaping him, as though the whole situation is laughable, as though you’re not standing there, mortified in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with worse. Trust me.”

For one second, everything really seems to slow down as his words sinks into you like a balm. You believe him. It’s impossible to not. He’s seen everything and here you are, worrying over a broken mug.

“Im really sorry,” you stammer again, caught off guard by the softness in his tone, the tenderness in his gaze. What did you expect? That he’d scold you, dismiss you? But no. He’s calm, like this minor catastrophe is nothing. As if nothing could rattle him, as if you, standing there like a fool, didn’t matter at all.

Stanford laughs. “You know, after all I’ve been through, interdimensional beasts, curses, that damn triangle demon, a shattered mug would be nothing. So don’t apologize.” his eyes meet yours. “Im not made of glass. It takes more than a broken cup to rattle me.”

And then his voice lowers with that quiet authority. “Sit down,” he commands softly. “I’ll handle this. Don’t want you getting hurt.”

You can’t help it. His voice sounds so low, commanding, yet laced with something so tender it makes your skin tingle. The words come easy from his lips, but when they’re aimed at you, they tear through you. They make you feel like you’re something precious, something to be cared for, protected. But more than that, a part of you craves to be held by him, right now, right in this moment. To be pressed back into the cushions of the sofa, feeling the strength of his arms, making you feel like you’re the only one in his world.

You’re not just obeying his words, you’re aching to obey. 

That’s why without thinking, you sink into the soft cushions. And shit, there he is — bending down, his bare chest covered with scars still glistening from the rain, droplets make you ache. They fucking shimmer on his skin, taunting you, daring you to touch him, taste him, make him yours. Every inch of him is fucking perfect. God, how are you even supposed to think straight when he looks like that? Your body is screaming for him, for his touch, for everything. 

You try to look away. You can’t. His broad shoulders, his strong fucking arms, his hard chest. It’s too much. He’s a fucking masterpiece and all you want is for him to paint you in ways you can’t even process yet. Your body betrays you, again, that warmth spreading low in your belly, growing. You cross your legs, trying to hide the desperate need that’s already pooling between them. Fuck, how are you supposed to calm this down? It only gets worse.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and it’s all laid out in front of you, impossible to ignore. His every movement is so natural, so fucking sexy, it makes your pulse race. You just know he can make you feel things you didn’t even know your body was capable of.

You’re trying to calm yourself, really, you are. 

You cross and uncross your legs again, desperate to release some of the tension building between your thighs, but it only makes it worse. Fuck, why is this so hard? Every thought you have is consumed with him, with what he could do to you, what he should do to you. And the more you try to control it, the more your body betrays you.

You need to touch yourself, but you’re stuck, just waiting, consumed by the need for him.

And then, the thoughts take over completely.

You’re delusional to the point where you feel his hands on your legs, parting them, spreading you wide. You imagine him on his knees, lowering his head, his lips tracing the inside of your thighs, so fucking gentle, so goddamn slow, as he watches you with those eyes, sharp, hungry, possessive. And then, he presses his tongue to your clit, licks you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, making you whine for him.

You bite down on your lip, trying to hold it back, but it’s impossible. You need him. You want him between your legs, fucking you so deep you can’t think straight, making you beg for it. Fuck, what would he say? “That’s it, baby. . . just like that… good girl, taking what I give you. . .” the words seeping into your skin like a drug you can’t quit.

You bite down hard on your lip, desperate to keep quiet, but your body is louder than you’ll ever be. Fuck, your body’s soaking through, your pussy throbbing for his touch, and all you can do is stare at him, mesmerised. His body is a goddamn work of art, and you want to trace every inch of it, feel it on top of you, pushing inside you, taking you.

It’s so fucking embarrassing, but you can’t stop it. Your body’s so ready for him, for his hands, for his cock. You can almost taste him, can almost feel his cock sliding inside you, filling you so nice.

Fuck, any writer of erotic novels would envy your imagination. The thought of him getting rough with you, pushing you down into the cushions, fucking you into the sofa until you can’t think, can’t breathe. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. Mine to fuck whenever I want. You belong to me.”

The thought of him pounding into you, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, makes you want to lose your mind. You just want to hear him growl your name as he fucks you like you’re the only thing that matters.

And you know you’ll let him. Let him claim you, take you apart, until you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure, a good girl begging for more.

“Hey,” Ford’s voice drags you back into reality, unwantedly. Your heart stutters in your chest as you blink, trying to focus on anything other than the way your body’s still burning, aching for him. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, the concern on his face so fucking intense it almost makes you want to tell him everything you’re feeling, right here, right now. But you can’t. God, you can’t. Not when the way he looks at you like that.

“Are you alright? You don’t look too well.” his voice is full of worry, but there’s that edge of guilt creeping in as he mutters, “I really should’ve checked the forecast before dragging you out in this mess. . . feels like a bit of a fool for that.” his fingers are rubbing the back of his neck in that shy way he does, that little sign of guilt that makes your stomach clench in a way that’s too much to handle.

But it’s his fucking proximity that’s driving you wild. He’s so close now, standing there shirtless, looking like some goddamn wet dream come to life. You can’t focus on anything but his body, the way the rainwater trails down his skin, glistening so beautifully. Fucking fuck. 

“No, Ford, im absolutely okay, I swear—”

“Hold still,” Ford commands and that’s when you feel his hand so damn warm against your forehead, sending a shockwave of need straight through you. His touch is too fucking soft and yet it feels like it’s scorching you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that you’re so goddamn horny your body’s reacting to the smallest contact.

You try to calm yourself, try to act normal, but it’s too fucking hard. You force a weak smile. “I told you, I— I’m fine,” you answer, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s all you can do to not let the truth slip. You want to scream it, how much you need him, how much you ache for him right now, but you don’t. Not yet. Never probably.

Ford’s brows knit tighter together and his eyes lock onto yours. He’s not fooled, not for a second. “You’re lying. Don’t try to brush it off. If you’re not feeling well, you need to tell me.”

The urge to confess everything is unbearable. You want to tell him you’re not sick, you’re just fucking drenched in need, that’s all! Aching for him to pull you into his arms, to kiss you until you can’t breathe. But instead, you do the only thing you can do: you force a nervous laugh, a weak attempt to play it off.

“No, I swear I’m fine! I could go on a thousand more anomaly hunts with you!” the words spill out with a little too much enthusiasm, a little too much frenzy and you pray to whatever god is listening that it’s enough to get him off your case.

Ford’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms, still towering over you, still so close

Man, just step back or I'll pounce on you and eat you.

“Cold rain can do a lot more damage than you think. You could’ve caught something serious, and ignoring it won’t help. Do you have any idea how quickly a fever can develop if you’re already run down?”

Oh no, his voice shifts into that familiar, lecturing tone, the kind that makes you want to both roll your eyes and lean in closer to hear more. 

When he says something about cold exposure affecting the immune system, you should be paying attention. You try to focus on his words, but it’s hard when he’s standing there — half naked, with his chest on full display, his messy hair slightly wet from the rain. God, he's just so fucking handsome. The serious, worried look in his eyes makes you weak and you can’t help but sink a little deeper into the sofa.

Just as Ford’s lecture hits a peak, the door swings open with a loud bang and Stanley Pines strolls in, halting mid-step as his eyes zero in on the scene before him. Ford, half-naked, standing too close for comfort, and you, perched on the sofa with that nervous smile plastered across your face.

Stan’s grin stretches wide, clearly loving the situation as he leans casually against the doorway. His eyes flick between you and Ford, then he gives Ford an exaggerated once-over, raising an eyebrow at his lack of turtleneck. “Well, ain’t this cozy,” he drawls sarcastically, giving a smirk that only widens when he spots Ford’s obvious discomfort. “Ya know, Sixer, when I said ‘show the girl a good time,’ I didn’t mean literally strip down to do it.”

Ford’s eyes snap toward his brother, his mouth twitching in a way that’s almost a grimace. His posture straightens, arms crossing defensively as he glares at Stan. “Stanley, really? Must you always reduce everything to your level? She dropped a mug and I was helping her avoid a mess. You wouldn’t understand, but maybe try acting your age for once.”

“Hey, all I’m sayin’ is, if ya plan on gettin' cozy, maybe take it to a couch that ain’t mine.” Stanley’s gaze slides over to you, flashing a wink. “But if you’re lookin' for company, darlin’, I’m more than happy to—“

Before you can let the awkwardness spread more, you spring into the conversation, desperate to steer it somewhere less humiliating. “Stan, actually, Ford was just helping me to—” you force a friendly smile, trying to make light of the situation.

Stan laughs like he’s heard it all before. “Sure thing, toots. But between you and me. . . you’re doin’ a hell of a job of keepin’ my brother here on his toes. Haven’t seen him all riled up like this since. . . well, ever.” your heart thump so loudly in your chest, you’re sure everyone can hear it.

Ford’s jaw clenches so tight, you can practically hear his teeth grinding, but he doesn’t look away from Stan. The vein in his neck starts to twitch.God, it’s almost painful how much he wants to just end this conversation, end this moment, and pull you somewhere private, somewhere safe, where he can have you all to himself, but he doesn’t. “Stan, enough. We have an anomaly to inspect. Something I’d actually prefer not to delay any longer.”

Stan lets out a low whistle, clearly enjoying every second of Ford’s discomfort. “Yeah, yeah. Go on, Sixer, run off to your little projects. Just don’t forget there’s a real world out here, alright?” he gives you a quick nod, still smirking. “and you, don’t let him lock you in his lab too long, sweetheart.”

***

Grumpy Ford. The kind of irritated, scowling Ford you never realized you’d find so irresistibly enticing. That brooding frustration, that laser-sharp focus, you can’t help but imagine all that intensity turned on you, directed into every inch of your body.

God, if he just shoved you back onto that workbench right now, you’d let him. You wouldn’t care if his precious equipment went crashing to the floor, wouldn’t even flinch at the thought of papers and tools scattering everywhere. All you want is him, his body pinning you down, hands gripping you like you’re the anomaly he’s desperate to dissect, figure out, devour. 

Holy shit, you want him to push you up against that wall, pin you down until you’re writhing underneath him, his body grinding against yours, every bit of that frustration poured right into you.

Slick heat building between your thighs as you watch him, the way he moves around his lab, muttering in frustration as he punches numbers into some device, brows knitted in that fierce focus. And all you can do is want his hands on your hips, his mouth on your neck, his cock driving into you like you’re all he’s thinking about.

“The rain seems to have masked the anomaly’s energy signature. I suspect it might be due to ionization in the— are you even listening?”

His voice snaps you back, he’s tearing right through your flimsy attempts at focus with that intense gaze of his, as if seeing everything you’re thinking. You offer him a small, sheepish smile. “Of course I am! Gravity, paranormal. . . s-signatures, right?” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes keep drifting over his body, your ache throbbing inside, thighs pressing together as he stands there, so close you could reach out, slip your fingers through the fabric of his clothes, feel the warmth of his skin.

Ford’s gaze follows yours, his expression changes as he considers whether to answer. “That’s a thought-reading device. Designed to access certain mental frequencies,” he explains, stepping closer to it and closer to you. “It can pick up surface thoughts. . . theoretically, anyway. I was working on it before I. . . uhm, it’s meant to strengthen and protect someone’s mental processes. Block out. . . certain entities from gaining access to their mind.”

Ford lets out a soft, exasperated sigh. “Honestly, you��re as distractible as Stan.” 

He turns away, but your eyes don’t leave him. Instead, you let your gaze slide over the room, until something catches your eye. A strange, helmet-like device bristling with wires and so, without thinking, you ask, “Hey, what’s that thing?”

A mind-protective device. Of course, he’d build something like that. It’s so him, his beautiful mix of intellect, caution, that underlying fear of what he’s seen, what he’s had to fight.

“So, it could let me peek into that brilliant mind of yours?” it’s a playful a tease, mostly. But inside you just ache to know, to wonder, to feel his thoughts. Would he think about you. even once, in the same filthy, breathless way you think about him?

Stanford grins. “In theory, yes, but it’s hardly necessary. My mind is. . . complex, too complicated for most people to understand."

And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, Ford lifts the machine, his grin is bigger. “Why don’t you try it on?”

Your heart slams against your chest and panic sears through you, cutting under your carefully held composure. Oh god. No. No, no, no. Every filthy thought, every desperate image of him, of those long, deft fingers tracing down your skin, of his mouth, his hands, of him pinning you down and splitting you open on his cock, of moaning his name until you can’t breathe. All of it, laid bare, displayed for him to see? 

You choke down the crazy urge to run, instead forcing yourself to laugh. “Why, Professor Pines, are you doubting my integrity?” you counter, flashing him a daring smirk, praying it’s enough to distract him from the heat that’s burning its way up your cheeks.

Ford chuckles in response. “Integrity?” he repeats, his tone mocking. “No. But curiosity? Oh, absolutely. I think it would be enlightening to see what actually goes on behind that amused little expression of yours.”

“There’s nothing interesting in my mind,” but your words barely sound convincing to you, let alone to him.

Ford tilts his head, arching his brow in that all-too-familiar, skeptical way that makes you want to simultaneously squirm and melt. “Oh really? You know, most people would be thrilled to test out new technology. But you. . . you’re avoiding it like it’s some kind of torture device.”

“Oh, yeah, you know,” a poor attempt at casual. “I just. . . don’t wanna risk, you know, brain cells or something.” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. God, please just buy it. . . 

Ford’s laughter rumbles and by the look on his face, you know he doesn’t quite believe you. But, mercifully, he lets it slide. “Alright, alright,” he relents. “I’ll spare you. This time.”

***

The rest of the evening is a haze of Ford’s intense meticulous rambling as you both sit tucked away in the quiet of his lab, soft lamp light casting warm shadows that stretch over the various gadgets, books, and uncharted maps sprawled out on every available surface, his domain, the world he’s always losing himself in.

He’s explaining again, his words so precise about the anomaly you saw earlier today. His voice rises with each detail, the way the rain altered it, how it vanished before either of you could even think to grab it. You should be focused, but his beautiful voice turns into a lullaby. Your eyelids grow heavy, your body sinking deeper into the chair. 

And Ford notices.

The way your head tilts too far, your eyes fluttering closed just a little too long. He’s not as lost in his thoughts as he likes to think. His gaze sharpens, flicking to you with that careful, assessing precision he’s always had. He sees that quiet exhaustion in the way your posture slumps, the way your breath catches unevenly as your body fights against the pull of sleep.

His voice softens. “You’re exhausted,” he murmurs. “Of course you are. . . It’s too late. Go, get some rest. This. . . all of this will still be here tomorrow.”

A sigh tries to escape your chest before you can stop it. You want to protest, to stay longer, to pass just little bit more time with him. But the way he looks at you makes the words die before they can leave your lips. There's something unspoken in his eyes, a quiet concern mixed with that stubborn, unyielding sense of responsibility.

You try to stifle a yawn, your hand reaches out, fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve, as if the touch might change his mind. “Maybe. . . maybe just a bit longer?” however even your own voice sounds tired.

His answer is gentle but final. “No. You need to sleep. I’ll be here, as always.”

You don’t argue. When you step away, you catch one last glimpse of him, standing amidst the piles of notebooks, the soft light casting shadows along the lines of his face, catching the silver in his hair in a way that’s so painfully beautiful so you let yourself stay a little longer before you close the door.

***

The silence that reigns in the room after you leave feels like a huge, endless void that stretches to all corners of the laboratory and suffocates in its stillness. Ford exhales slowly, a sigh caught between frustration and something deeper he can’t quite name. His gaze lingers on the door, where you disappeared through just moments ago, soft sound of your footsteps still echoing in his mind. God, he’s such a fool, he thinks, fingers pressing to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the ache that’s been building inside him ever since you spoke those soft words, just a little longer.

He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t ignore it. The way you leaned in, hanging onto his every word, as if he were something more than he really was, something beyond the man who hides behind his work, behind his mind. The weight of your trust presses on him and with it comes the unbearable pressure of knowing he doesn’t deserve it.

And God, he tries to keep himself restrained. He tells himself that this is madness, that you’re too young, that every second he spends watching you, wanting you, is a betrayal of everything he’s tried to build.

But you’re gone now and his lab feels emptier than ever. Even as he reaches for his journal, his thoughts are still tangled with you, with the way you looked at him, the way your sleepy eyes followed his every move, the way you seemed to hang on to every word, every breath he took. Did you even realise what you were doing to him?

And as he opens his journal, he knows there will be no more notes on anomalies tonight. No theories, nothing but the restless, fevered words he can never, ever say aloud. Ford knows that if these thoughts ever slipped past his lips, they’d destroy you. You’d never look at him the same again. And he can’t lose you. He couldn’t bear to watch that disgust fill your eyes, that revulsion as you saw him for what he truly is: a man with a heart full of shame, but aching for you all the same.

He writes with a fever, the words coming too quickly for him to even think them through. He’s confessing things he’ll never have the courage to say to you. The way you make him ache, how wrong it feels, how unnatural it is to want you this way. You’re so young, so vibrant, so full of life. How could someone like him, an old man, a man of logic and reason, ever think he could want someone like you?

And yet, it’s all he can think about. It’s all he does think about.

God help him, he wants you.

Stanford’s hand trembles as he writes fast.

“The way she seems to lean closer with every word I speak, as if I’m some kind of god to her. I can’t breathe when she’s near, but I can’t stand being away from her either.”

He’s sickened by it, disgusted by the way his hands ache for you, by how his thoughts run into places he can’t control. But even so, he thinks, I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting you.

“If only she knew what I was dreaming about, how I want to erase all layers of distance between us. I want to melt into her, touch every inch of her skin, as if she was made to belong to me, only to me.“

Ford can’t let you know how deeply he feels, how far he’s fallen for someone like you, someone so out of reach, someone who might never look at him the way he looks at you. Because if he did, if he let those words slip from his lips it would ruin you. It would break you.

And he can’t do that.

Not to you.

So, he writes. He writes because it’s the only way he can make sense of the mess inside of him. The only way he can be close to you without breaking everything.

“God, if she knew, she'd never see me as anything but the perverted old man I am.”

“God help me. . . I want her breathless. I want her shaking, clinging to me as I bury myself inside her, feeling every inch of her wrap around me like she was made for this. I want her to be mine. The years between us be damned—”

One sentence, scribbled with shaking hands: “if she knew how much I want to make her come on my cock while explaining the fundamental laws of interdimensional, she’d never look at me same way again”

“I want her shaking, spent, marked by me, by the man twice her age who should know better but can’t help himself.”

“I picture teaching her how to harness interdimensional energy, but my mind twists it, images shifting until it’s my body pressed to hers, whispering “concentrate sweetheart,” while I trust into her from behind. Her breath would stutter as I correct her technique with my hands on her hips.”

“I shouldnt crave her, not with the years that separates us like an unyielding chasm. Yet when she laughs, carefree and obvious, I imagine making her cry my name, hands guiding her hips as I thrust inside up into her, showing her exactly what an older man can do. Showing her why age doesn’t matter when she’s trembling and breathless beneath me.”

“She's got no idea, does she? I want her bent over my desk, books and notes scattered beneath her, while I thrust into her like some animal in heat, filling her over and over until there's nothing left of her but soft, pleading sounds and the way her body pulls me back in with every move. I’d guide her, make her feel exactly what it means to be touched by a man who’s twice her age and twice as obsessed.”

Meanwhile, now, alone in your room, you’re haunted by the memory of your lovely scientist, pulsing between your legs, leaving a needy ache that’s impossible to ignore. Just thinking about him, the strong lines of his hands, those six fingers that could make you see stars. . . it all sends a jolt straight through your body and suddenly, you’re melting, undone, utterly helpless to this craving for him.

You let yourself fall back into your bed, eyes closed, his presence wrapping around you like a ghost you can’t shake off. You can’t even catch a steady breath now, the dampness pooling between your thighs, every inch of you begging to be touched — not by yourself, no. You need him, his skilled, explorative touch, those six clever fingers. The memory of every stolen glance, every careful brush of his hand, it all coils up inside, a slow, delicious torment, and now it’s throbbing there, heavy with need.

You drag your fingers down the length of your body, tracing where his hands might go as you imagine him, his fingers slipping lower, finding that sweet, drenched ache and grazing it with a delicate touch that he’d know so damn well. 'Fuck,' you’d gasp, his name like a prayer on your lips as his six fingers roam, rough and relentless, pressing right against that needy opening, filling you up until you’re nothing but breathless whimpers and cries for more.

“God, sweetheart,” you hear his voice, “I’ve wanted this for so damn long. Do you feel that? How hard you make me?” and then he’d press his cock between your legs, hot veins throbbing against your entrance, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he tells you what a beautiful mess you’ve become for him.

Your fingertips brush over your clit as you imagine his hand there, gentle but insistent, exploring you with that scientist's curiosity, his six fingers pressing slow, circling that sensitive bud, coaxing soft gasps from your lips. “Let me feel you. Take it slow, sweetheart. Let me make you mine.” but even as you touch yourself now, imagining his fingers in place of yours, it’s still not enough

You arch from own hand, fingers gliding through the wetness now slick and ready, you press a little harder on your clit, circling it faster, imagining the way his hands would dig into your skin, his strong arms wrapped around you as he thrusts into you, “take it all, darling. Every inch of me.”

And by some lucky chance, Ford stands outside your door, his pulse slamming hard against his ribs, a wreck of a man just clinging to sanity. The sound of you — all gasping, breathy moans slipping through the thin wood, whispering his name in that desperate little voice — he can’t help himself as his hand flies up to the doorframe, his fingers digging in so hard they’re going white, knuckles taut, trying to keep himself together. 

But the universe is laughing at him, at his pathetic attempt at control, at the sheer uselessness of his restraint, because fuck, every gasp you make sinks its teeth into him.

Something hot runs through him, then it sinks low, thickening in his chest, then spreads down between his legs. His cock twitches, rock-hard and aching, straining against the fabric, pressing hard, begging for the attention he keeps denying it. He shouldn’t be here — hell, he should be miles away by now, somewhere that isn’t two inches from falling apart at the sound of you! But he’s not. He’s a goddamn mess, held hostage to the way you’re sighing his name.

“Fuck, sweetheart. . .” he’s going insane out here.

Ford knows how you look right now, imagined it thousands of times, laid out on your bed with those soft thighs parted, hands trailing down, fingertips grazing over warm, damp skin, teasing yourself open, getting yourself wet just for him. Fuck, he thinks, I shouldn’t be this fucking desperate.

Ford lets his hand slip down, pressing hard against the hardness straining in his trousers, feeling himself throb against his own palm. There’s no relief, just that painful, growing ache that has him grinding his teeth, biting back the low, broken sound that wants to rip free from his throat. He’s a man undone, ruined just by the thought of you, the image of you with your legs open, your body calling out for him like he’s the only one you need.

“Jesus, fuck. . .” his free hand reaches down, trembling as he slides it beneath his waistband, wrapping around the throbbing heat of his cock, feeling himself swell, hard and pulsing against his palm. It’s wrong, so wrong to be here, touching himself to the sound of your little whimpers, but fuck if he can stop.

The sounds coming from your room grow louder and it’s too much for him. He’s already so fucking close as he imagines himself on top of you, sinking inside you, feeling your cunt wrapped tight and hot around him, your body arching, your hands clawing at his back, those delicate fingers pulling him close, begging him not to stop. 

Ford’s back collides with the lab door as he stumbles in, chest heaving, adrenaline of hearing his name on your lips. He locks the door behind him.

Fumbling hands tug at his belt, fingers clumsy, impatient, tearing at the fabric as it’s the only thing standing between him and relief. Finally, the belt slides free, and he wraps a shaky hand around his cock, swallowing down a low hiss as the raw heat of his own skin meets his grip. 

He strokes himself roughly and desperately, letting his thumb graze the sensitive tip with a ragged groan that he’s helpless to contain. His mind runs further, and he pictures you, perfect and pliant, sinking to your knees before him with eyes so innocent, with lips parting as you take him into your mouth. As you let him fuck your throat.

A shiver runs through him and he leans his head back, sighing, groaning and grunting louder as he loses himself in the fantasy. God, if you only knew. If you could see him like that, a desperate moaning and trembling mess with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock. 

“Ahh— ffuck,” hell, just how much he wants to hear you make those sounds too, moan for him, he wants to feel you beneath him, warm and soft, clinging to him, legs tangled around his waist as he sinks into you. His strokes become faster. Ford imagines pressing you down onto the lab table, your dripping pussy welcoming him as he thrusts deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper until there’s no part of you he hasn’t claimed. His breath hitches, hips bucking into his hand as he imagines the way your walls would tighten around him, clenching, pulling him in. 

He’s shaking now, barely able to hold himself together, his free hand clutches at the edge of the workbench, knuckles white, as he lets himself sink fully into the fantasy. You’d look so damn perfect spread out for him. Ford’s hand moves faster, tighter, fueled by the image of you writhing beneath him, helpless, pleading, so sweet and open, absolutely his, his beautiful girl, sweetest thing. 

The pressure building until he can’t take it anymore. His hips jerk, a loud needy moan spilling from his lips as he cums, his body shuddering with release. For a few long, breathless seconds, everything fades: his mind, his shame, everything but the overwhelming, blinding wave of pleasure.

***

The morning breaks, a new day arriving, one that promises to be spent with Ford close by— and, isn’t that something to look forward to?

When you meet Stanford, the first thing you hear is, “Did you not learn anything from last time?“

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, but before you can protest, Ford is stepping closer, his coat swishing around him as he moves. The wool of his scarf unravels with practiced ease, and in a smooth motion, it’s over your shoulders, the warmth of it spreads around your neck. You want to say something, but all you can focus on is the way Ford’s thumb traces the edge of the scarf, his touch so delicate it feels too intimate for something so simple.

This shouldn’t feel like it does, you think, but your body screaming what your mind refuses to admit.

“There,” Ford says, stepping back. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I thought you checked the forecast this time,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t today supposed to be sunny?”

Ford crosses his arms with a smile. “Yes, well. . . One can never be too cautious. After all, last time—“

“—last time, I nearly froze my ass off,” you finish, the laughter bubbling up between you and Ford shoots you a look that’s equal parts exasperated and fond, like he’s about to scold you but can’t help himself.

“I wasn’t going to put it quite so crudely,” he says, but that reluctant chuckle escapes him before he can hide it.

When the sun climbs higher, the forest around you changes in hues of gold, the leaves thinning just enough to let the light filter through in soft rays. You walk side by side, close enough to hear the rhythmic crunch of your footsteps in the fallen leaves and Ford’s murmured observations, but it’s all you can do not to lose yourself in him. His words float past, about terrain, weather, anomalies and predictions, but your mind doesn’t follow, not when your eyes keep straying to him.

You can’t help but wonder if there’s any room left for you in his head, if he ever thinks about anything other than those damned anomalies. A piece of you wants to shake him, to pull him from his thoughts, to remind him that life is more than equations and mathematics. But, god, there’s something so cute about him when he’s like this, so fully consumed by his world, and you can’t look away.

“You’re thinking about something,” Stanford starts, pulling you out of your trance. “Is it the anomaly, or. . .?”

“Just wondering what it is we’re actually tracking. I mean, last time it disappeared before we could even get a good look, so. . . what’s the plan if it shows up again?”

Ford’s face lights up with approval at your question. “It’s an elusive creature, no doubt,” and again, his voice slips into that familiar lecture tone, one you’ve learned to love despite yourself. “But this time, I have a better understanding of its behaviour. The rain threw it off last time, but if my theory is correct, today’s dry weather should keep it on course! And if we can corner it near the ravine, there’s a chance we might get a clear reading on its—”

“Ford,” you interrupt, he stops talking, his brow lifting slightly. “I mean, yes— corner it near the ravine,” you repeat. Wait, what did you just say? 

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Ford asks, smiling at you. “If you’re still tired from yesterday, I can handle this on my own.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, crossing your arms as you look at him defiantly. "Oh, please. I said I could do this a thousand times over with you and still keep up,” you challenge.

He laughs again and his laughter is so damn cute. “That, I don’t doubt.”

Time pass and as you walk beside Ford, your mind drifts, you're not really thinking about the anomaly or the hunt anymore. No, your thoughts are elsewhere. Again. Somewhere they shouldn’t be, but there they are. You can’t help but notice the way the sun highlights the strands of silver in Ford's hair, the curve of his shoulders as he walks, his posture so effortlessly confident and strong. And you think about how much you liked the way his body looked in the rain yesterday, when the wetness clung to his clothes and made every line stand out even more. 

You sigh inwardly, watching him from the corner of your eye. The weather, as perfect as it is, only makes you feel a bit wistful. Why did it have to be sunny today? You had been hoping for more rain. The kind of rain that soaked him through and made his clothes cling to his skin, the droplets tracing the curves of his chest. That was a sight you’d never forget. But today sun is too bright, too cheerful.

The soft breeze brushes your hair against your face, and you snap out of your thoughts just as you see the clearing ahead. Ford slows his pace, his gaze scanning the area with his usual calculated precision. And just as yesterday, air here feels different, as if charged. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the unease settling in. This is it, the spot where the anomaly was last seen. But, of course, there's nothing. The clearing is quiet, calm, completely empty.

Ford steps forward, looking around with a frown, muttering something under his breath. You stand there for a moment, waiting, listening to the wind rustle through the branches and the distant call of a bird. But there's nothing. 

“Where is it?” you ask and Ford turns to you, his expression calm but with that familiar hint of worry in his eyes, the kind that usually only surfaces when he’s feeling frustrated. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, though his voice sounds more like he’s trying to reassure himself than you. He straightens up, adjusting his glasses. “The anomaly will show itself. We’ve got all day to catch it.” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

All day with Ford? 

Your heart skips a beat and you have to fight to keep your expression neutral. What could be better than spending the entire day with him, just the two of you in this quiet, secluded place? No distractions, just you and Ford, and the anomaly that might never show up.

It takes a little more time while you and Ford are waiting for the anomaly to appear and so, a dialogue ensues.

“I’ve seen some more strange things. In all my years of research, there have been anomalies of all shapes and sizes. Creatures from dimensions we can’t even begin to understand. Some are harmless, just curious things that wander around, never meaning to cause harm. Others. . . Others are far more dangerous. I've seen creatures that could tear through steel without breaking a sweat. Their behavior is— well, unpredictable.”

“What about the really dangerous ones?”

“There's one anomaly, one creature that I’ve encountered that still haunts me, to this day.” he looks away for a moment, as if weighing the decision to tell you more. “a beast unlike any other. Its skin is like iron, nearly impenetrable. And its mind is relentless. It doesn’t think like us. It doesn’t have the ability to reason, only the ability to kill and survive.”

Wow, you already can see it in your mind — a massive, hulking creature, covered in jagged, metallic plates, its eyes wild with an animalistic hunger.

“And you’ve seen it?”

Ford nods slowly. “Yes, once. And it wasn’t an experience I care to repeat.” and then he calls you by your name. “Listen, if we encounter anything dangerous, you stay behind me. Don’t try to be a hero, don’t try to ‘help out.’ I’ve trained for this. I know these creatures; I know their instincts and behaviours. You. . . you don’t. It’s crucial that you follow my lead.”

“I’m not helpless, you know,” you mumble, folding your arms. “I can handle myself.”

But Ford only smirks, oh how cute you are. “And if you ever find yourself lost between dimensions, the key is to stay calm. Panicking is a surefire way to make yourself vulnerable. Reality in those places doesn’t play by the same rules. Your mind can trick you, distort what you’re seeing” 

You stare at him, a mixture of awe and confusion washing over you. “Well, thanks, Ford, for the guide on how to travel through dimensions and fight the monsters that live in them.”

“Years of experience. Sometimes the hard way. But you don’t need to worry about that, alright? Just stick close, keep your wits about you, and we’ll make it out just fine.” he smiles.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, your gaze dropping to the forest floor. “You’re. . . you’re Stanford Pines. You’re used to dealing with this kind of thing. Me? I’d probably end up wandering off into some other dimension if I so much as blink wrong.”

He chuckles softly, and you feel his hand gently rest on your shoulder. “That’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t.”

You open your mouth to respond, but then— crack. A twig snaps somewhere in the trees to your left. The sound is sharp, distinct, echoing through the quiet forest.

Your heart skips a beat and you instinctively grip Ford’s arm, eyes widening. He tenses, immediately going on alert as his gaze darts toward the source of the noise. “Stay behind me.”

You swallow, nodding as you press yourself close to him. Ford moves slowly, keeping himself between you and the sound, his shoulders squared, every muscle tense and ready.

Another rustle, this time from the other side. You bite your lip, feeling the cold prickling sensation of fear clawing up your spine. This doesn’t sound like a bunny, not in the slightest.

The sounds grow louder, surrounding you both. Ford’s posture tightens, his gaze focused and determined, while you hover close behind him, whatever lurks in the shadows isn’t friendly, and Ford, as always, stands ready to protect you at any cost.

Suddenly, Ford raises a hand, signaling for you to stay still. One. . . two. . . three—

A small, furry creature darts out of the bushes, a pudgy raccoon, more plump and inquisitive than fearsome. It scampers out, blinking innocently at you both and you feel sigh with a relief.

You slip out from behind Ford, who’s still standing rigidly, eyeing the raccoon with disbelief. “Well, would you look at that,” you say, glancing up at him with a slight grin. “Our terrifying forest intruder was just looking for a snack, huh?”

“Don’t get too close,” Stanford warns, still frowning. “These things are rarely alone.”

You laugh softly, crouching down and letting the raccoon sniff at your hand. “Oh, come on, Ford. You really think this little guy is hiding—”

The words die in your throat as you catch the look on his face, his eyes wide with sudden horror, mouth open as he shouts, “behind you!” and you whip around just in time to see something that makes your heart freeze, a hulking mass with matted fur and claws like daggers, looming in the shadows. Its eyes flash like yellow lanterns and a rank smell hits you, earthy and rotten all at once. You barely manage a step back before it lets out a furious roar, its maw wide enough to fit a head and then some. The sound is so loud it rattles through you and a splatter of spit flies from its jaws, landing on your clothes. You go stock-still.

“Th-that’s. . .” you stammer, but Ford’s voice interrupts you, calm and steady despite the chaos.

“Stay calm. It’s eyesight’s weak, but sound-sensitive. Just— slowly step back.”

You barely have time to take in his words before the beast’s head snaps toward you again, snarling with an intensity that shakes the trees. Immediately, Ford pulls out his gun, aiming directly at the creature, he fires off a round that echoes through the forest, hitting the beast and it lets out a howl of pain that sends birds scattering from the treetops. But it’s still very much alive, and now it looks angry, furiously angry. The monster's gaze is fixed on Ford with a vengeful glare, and he rushes towards him with a blood-curdling growl.

Ford stands firm, taking careful aim as he readies to fire again. But just as he steadies his grip, a branch underfoot shifts, making him stumble. The gun slips from his hand, landing somewhere in the tangle of roots and leaves and suddenly, he’s weaponless, the monster mere feet away.

Panic flares in your chest as you see the creature, claws poised, ready to strike. Ford scrambles back, but it’s too close, and something snaps inside you. Without thinking, you dart forward, adrenaline flooding through you and you grab a thick branch from the ground. With a yell that’s as much out of fear as it is determination, you swing it at the creature with everything you have, landing a blow that momentarily distracts it from Ford.

But that monster retaliates, slashing out in a blind fury and suddenly you feel the sting of claws raking across your leg. Pain flares sharp and hot, but you grit your teeth, ignoring it, keeping yourself steady enough to stay upright.

Ford seizes the moment, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and fear as he snatches his gun from the ground, turning back to the creature. His voice is hoarse but resolute, “what are you doing?” he shouts irritably, calling your name again. “I told you to listen to me!”

With a final, controlled shot, he fires, the bullet hitting its mark. The monster lets out an agonized cry, staggering back before it turns and lumbers off into the dense woods, its snarl fading into the distance.

The adrenaline ebbs, leaving you and Ford alone in the sudden silence. His gaze finds yours, mad and worried all at once, his hand reaching out to steady you as your breathing finally starts to slow.

Ford’s face twists with frustration, jaw clenched tight and when he speaks, his voice is seething with barely controlled anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, charging in like that! I told you to stay back!”

You swallow, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks, not out of embarrassment or fear, but because, god, he’s hot when he’s angry, with that fire in his eyes and his tone like a damn storm. You force yourself to stay upright, despite the dull ache pulsing in your leg. “Ford, it’s fine. I just wanted to—”

But he’s already looking at you, really looking, his gaze flicking from your face to the way you’re leaning on your uninjured leg. “You’re hurt,” his tone dips from anger to something softer and worried. “Damn it, I should’ve never brought you out here. I’m such an idiot—“

“No, Ford, it’s just a little—” you try to brush him off, waving your hand dismissively, but as you shift your weight, a sharp bolt of pain shoots through your leg. You bite back a wince, forcing a smile. “Just a scratch, really.”

“Don’t even think about hiding this from me,” Ford turns annoyed and dead serious again, he steps closer as he assesses you, and there’s something really fierce in the way he insists, “Let me take a look. Now.”

For a moment, you think about arguing. But the pain flares again and you realise there's no winning against that look in his eyes. With a sigh, you give in, nodding reluctantly as you show him your new wound, from where the blood has already soaked into the fabric, turning it dark red.

Ford’s face changes instantly. “Damn it,” his hand hovers uncertainly like he wants to reach out, to touch, but doesn’t quite know where to begin. “This is— this isn’t just a scratch.”

His fingers finally settle gently around your calf, supporting you, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he examines the wound. You can feel his pulse under his fingertips, it’s obvious he’s anxious, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the Ford who always has the answers.

“This was my fault, I shouldn’t have— damn it, I should’ve kept you safe.”

***

The journey back to the shack feels agonizingly silent. Ford has one arm around your waist, nearly carrying you as you limp along, every step makes the wound throb in your leg. The sting, the ache, it’s all mingling with a sick sense of regret. You feel it settling in your chest. The whole day had been a disaster. You both went out to catch that anomaly, that one lead he was so excited about. . . and instead, you ended up facing something brutal. The monster had nearly killed you both.

Ford hasn’t spoken a word since the forest and with each passing second, it gnaws at you more. The thought appears in your mind, he must regret it. Bringing you along, letting you be there, yeah. . . he’s mad and not in the way you find hot. He’s distant, still supporting you, guiding you with a firm hand, but it’s as though he’s somewhere else entirely.

When you finally make it to the Shack, you find it blessedly empty. No Stan’s loud jokes or questions to break the heavy silence between you. Ford helps you to walk, still wordless and the whole way, you’re trying to find something to say. Some excuse, some apology, but every time you look over at him, you just see that grim look and you stop yourself.

Inside, he lets you sit on the couch. You clear your throat, forcing yourself to speak, to try to lift that heavy cloud around you. “Ford, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go that way. I didn’t mean to—”

But Ford cuts you off. “No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I should never have let you come along, I put you in danger.”

That serious tone. . . You nod, saying nothing more and after a beat of silence, you get up slowly, mumbling something about heading to your room. Ford doesn’t stop you, and he watches you go, still worried as fuck, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s rooted there, expression tight as he watches you limp down the hall.

When you get to your room, you close the door softly behind you, but the pain in your leg has started pulsing heavier, sharper, demanding your attention. You look down and finally decide, you’re going to check it, even if just to prove to yourself that Ford’s look wasn’t warranted, that maybe you’re not as bad as he seemed to think.

You settle on the edge of your bed, carefully and slowly taking your pants off, but as you pull the fabric, the sight that greets you isn’t reassuring in the slightest. The cut on your thigh is deep, seeping a fresh, dark line of blood that’s begun to smear against your skin. “Fuck. . .” you curse, tilting your head to get a better look, your fingers hovering over the edges of the wound. Just as you’re mentally preparing to find the first aid kit, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.

“No, please, just— let me help still. I won’t be calm until I—”

In the midst of your concentration, you hear the faintest creak of the door, and before you can even react, it opens. 

You barely have a moment to react, still sitting on the edge of your bed, the bloody gash on full display as Ford steps inside, eyes widening as he looks at you. He freezes and for a moment, you both just stare at each other in silence. You’re sitting there in your panties and a t-shirt, and you don’t know if to be happy or not, realising how exposed you must look. Ford’s gaze flickers to your bare legs, to the wound on your inner thigh.

You cross your legs in shock and embarrassment. “Ford, what—” you start, but he quickly raises a hand, cutting you off.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ Ford approaches, he kneels beside the bed, looking up into your eyes. “I— I can’t just leave you like this,” he pleads. “Please. . . let me help.”

“Ford—“

Ford’s hands hover over your leg. “You need to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, make sure it doesn’t get infected. It’s going to hurt, but, I can help. I’ll be gentle. Just let me. . . please.”

His eyes search yours, a quiet desperation in them that seems to say more than just his words ever could. Ford may be brilliant when it comes to the unknown, but in moments like this, when it’s you that’s hurt, he’s lost, even if he tries to sounds smart. He doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to fail you.

Slowly, you nod, the vulnerability in his gaze too much for you to ignore.

“Alright,” you whisper. “but be careful, okay?”

[the4rcanist]

I understand what you feel, but to me, to quote someone that now I'm not gonna find in the midst of my likes, both things in organizations can be true at the same time.

Even the Chantry can serve the people by helping refugees in the middle of a conflict and still uphold structures that opress and have opressed people, same thing for wardens, same thing for crows.

I didn't saw anything in the game yet that confirms that none of the crow houses are buying children anymore, just that we now know that they also take in orphans, and the extraordinary situation we happen to be in just made us interact with the top notch of the organization (I do include the MC here), people who would most likely see not only themselves but the whole thing in a more positive light, and the same thing carries to a lot of the factions, like, first thing the First Warden tries to do is deny everything that happened with Warden Commander Clarel "we all know she acted alone" summoning demons had anything to do with him or the Wardens in general.

The Veil Jumpers taking in other races isn't something new or exclusive to this game tho, and tbh Rook is with people they trust and saw before (Varric and Harding)

But I do think this reflects the plot hyper focus on the BBEGs that reminds me a lot of Mass Effect 3 and Inquisition for that matter, and I do agree they should pay more mind to the background characterization and past elements that were referred to these places and not just focus on "guys the world IS going down fr this time"

But what I wanted to say with the comment above is that despite this, the game had yes a lot of "dark" (in this meaning) places that they decided to shift focus now, be it D'metas's crossing with the blight, be it Ghilanain doing experiments with elves, be it the Ossuary torturing people forcing demons into them, the blight itself being worse, the tree people in Arlathan, Blighted Minrathous (in my game) with hanged Shadow Dragons, events that you have to choose and don't have any kind of "good ending"

I haven't finished yet, just made to the end of ACT 1 but to me the tone is at least much more darker than Inquisition and some parts of 2.

[livelaughloveluffy]

comfort - trafalgar water d. law

a/n: listen... i was always a law simp pre-wano..... but wano law 😭😭😭 you will always be famous. and the brain rot is just so intense for him that i had to write this fic

a/n: i'm still adjusting to my antidepressants and literally have 9 labs due this week so forgive me for not being insanely active; i'm mainly just trying to survive 💀

nothing but fluff here! 💗

---------------------------------------------------------------------

when he comforts you:

-the captain goes above and beyond to silently help you out. chores you were supposed to do around the polar tang are miraculously already done, a cold glass of water and a small snack left on your nightstand when you wake up, your laundry folded and put away.

-and it doesn't stop at that. law wants to make sure you can relax and destress, so this sweet man will run you a bath, dimly lit with candles and a glass of wine, and he'll stay to gently wash your hair and give back massages. fully allowing you to just enjoy the warmth of the soapy water and his touch.

-he'll always make time in his schedule for cuddles, even if that means the two of you are crammed into his desk chair, he'll hold you tight to him, gently stroke your hair, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

-while advice isn't law's strongest area of expertise (he's much too pessimistic and blunt for that 💀) he is a fantastic listener. once he knows you aren't looking for a solution to your problems but just someone to support you while you rant, he'll sit through hours and hours of ranting and rambling, attentive eyes on you, his hand on the smalls of your back rubbing soft circles into you, even when he's busy he'll always lend an ear to your problems and a shoulder to cry on.

-he's a lot more affectionate than usual when he notices you haven't been yourself. pda suddenly doesn't bother him anymore, and he won't leave a room before giving you some kisses, his arm will be around your waist as he address the crew, or he'll grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours.

-when you're sick, injured, or on your period: law will provide literally the best cuddles you could ever ask for, his silk sheets against your body, the smell of his cologne filling the room, his warm body next to yours, your head on his chest, he'll let your fingers trace over the lines of his tattoos with absolutely no protesting. he's going to do the most for you, and if you didn't know him as well as you do, you'd truly have no idea who was leaving little chocolates and love notes on your pillow, a new book on your bed, your favorite drink stocked up in the fridge, and the fresh flowers on your nightstand everyday. he'll never address it or come out to take credit for it, he'd just do it. the captain will shower you in kisses much more than usual, on your cheek, the top of your head, a small peck on your lips, he's much more affectionate as its the subtle way he expresses his love and worry for you.

when he needs comforting:

-law is not the kind of guy to talk about his problems. a lot of this is because he struggles with verbalizing his feelings, worries, and stresses, but also because he doesn't find any relief in it. you instantly know when the captain needs you by the way he asked for you to meet him in his office. the second the door closes, he's picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you so close to him, the faint scent of bourbon vanilla fills your nose as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

-there's nothing the captain loves more than the feeling of your fingers tangled up in his soft dark raven locks, with your face resting against his chest you can hear the way his heart beat slightly slows fully enjoying the sensation of your touch.

-law finds lots of solace in hearing your voice, it's simply music to his ears. he'll listen to stories about your past or adventures you've been on, rambles about your hobbies, what you did today, anything and everything. he loves the distraction it provides him as well as the comforting ambient noise it provides while he works.

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a/n: soft law my beloved 😭😭😭😭😭 i totally forgot the whole "when you're sick" section of this fic when i first posted it, so i panic wrote that shit so damn fast 💀 it's been a minute since i wrote one of these 😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

a/n: if you are interested in being added to my taglist: here's a google form!!!

[suplicyy]

Hello!! Can you do tsukki, kuroo, akaashi, kenma, shirabu, suna, and atsumu with a fem reader gf who is an actor and she has to do kiss scenes sometimes and char gets jealous? Tyy!

Also ik this is a lot of characters so take your time :)

— Tags/Genre: Fluff | Fem!Reader | Timeskip

— Characters: Tsukishima, Kuroo, Kenma, Akaashi, Shirabu, Suna and Atsumu.

— Warnings: None!

╰┈➤ Tsukishima Kei

He's definitely one of the most rational on this list, and as much as he tries to look at this situation as normal, he can't help but feel his eyebrows furrow slightly at the idea.

Well, that's your job, and you're not going to stop loving him and he's not going to stop trusting you because of something that both actors are dealing with professionally.

But even if he doesn't show it (at least that's what he thinks), you know the man you have.

The eye roll when you mention what happened, the drumming of his fingers on the table, and also the short but dry answers he gives you.

He really doesn't want to act like this towards you, after all he loves you, but he really can't help but feel jealous.

And speaking of jealousy, he would NEVER declare it to you out loud, this man is is annoyingly proud until the end.

However, you know very well what he is feeling, since every time you mention the recordings of your current project, he always finds a reason to mock about your romantic partner in the series/film.💀

╰┈➤ Kuroo Tetsurou

Even though he is the more playful type with you, so to speak, he wouldn't mind too much if you had to do something like that.

All the moments you spent together, all the words of love exchanged, every gesture, every look, all of this is enough for Kuroo to know that you love him with all your heart, just as he also loves you very much. <3

So obviously he's going to make some sarcastic comments about how 'I'm definitely a better kisser than this guy' or something like that.

But he wouldn't be worried about things like "maybe she won't love me anymore", for him these are silly thoughts.

He trusts you completely, and knows that you always handle everything that happens on set in a professional manner.

I think you would be more worried about this kiss than Kuroo, so he's the one who has to assure you that he knows how much you love him!!

And even if he assures you that everything is fine, he won't refuse the many compensatory kisses you give to him...🤫

╰┈➤ Kenma Kozume

Kenma is really a calm guy, it's rare for him to lose his temper.

And even in a situation like that, I honestly see him continuing to be the same.😭

It's not that he doesn't mind you kissing another man, after all the first time you told him that, you saw his face contort into an irritated grimace.

But he knows it's just for the recording, so he'd just be a little jealous at first!!

I see him as someone who doesn't share much about his personal life as a streamer, but his subscribers definitely know that you are his girlfriend, after all you are a very famous person too.

So they wouldn't be surprised if, At the beginning of his live, out of nowhere, he announced a film that had just premiered just because you were in it.

"Well, the movie is already in theaters, so watch it! It's pretty cool... except for the kissing part..." he says pretending to be jealous, and then gives a small smile, while showing the movie poster in his hands to the camera.

╰┈➤ Akaashi Keiji

Definitely the calmest and most responsible on the list.😭

There's no way he would be jealous of you, because he knows you both love each other, he trusts you and knows he have nothing to worry about.

Just like Kuroo, you might be more worried about this situation than he is, thinking that it would upset him in some way.

And if you're nervous because it's your first time doing a movie scene like that, Akaashi would definitely calm you down and assure you that you'll do well in the filming!!

He sees how talented you are as an actress, and believes you are capable of completing any type of scene, even though they might make you a little worried.

But he will always be there to support you with whatever you need, comforting you with the sweetest words.

╰┈➤ Kenjiro Shirabu

He would be PISSED💀

I see him as someone who, when he's jealous or upset about something, can't hide it at all.

Whether it's his facial expressions, like a contortion of his face, and a slight pout appearing on his beautiful face... or in his own words.

"...Ew." That was the only comment he made when you showed him the photo of the person you were going to record with...

Even if he gets jealous about this whole situation, he would try not to think about it too much, otherwise he might just stay with a sullen face all day long.

But all you have to do is give him a few kisses and he'll melt right away and forget about it!!

If some of his friends (probably Goshiki and Tendou...😭) asked him if he was jealous of your kissing scene, teasing him, he would probably let another comment slip out.

"Why would I be jealous of someone who doesn't even know how to kiss well?"

╰┈➤ Suna Rintarou

When you talk to him about it, you can be sure that he would immediately pull out his cell phone to research the actor who will do the scene with you.

He didn't say this to you, but he did it in the hope of finding some controversy in which the person is involved, so he can show it to you...🧍‍♂️

Somehow, I see him as someone who is very much in the know about things that happen in the world of celebrities, the internet, etc.

So if he was a well-known actor, I think Suna would recognize him and other movies/series he was in and comment on it for you.

"He has the charisma equivalent to that of a door. Why did they put someone so boring in that role?"

I don't think he would be too jealous, but he is too clingy, so I think he would just cling to you all day while making fun of the situation.

╰┈➤ Atsumu Miya

If you told him that the world would be invaded by aliens and all of humanity would be exterminated, it would be less important for him than hearing that you were going to kiss someone other than him...

He acts in such a dramatic way, it's as if you're actually going to marry the person you're going to do the scene with.

"LET ME DO THE SCENE WITH YOU INSTEAD OF HIM!!" "Tsumu... you are not an actor..." "Huh, I guess now I'll have to give up my career as a volleyball player and become an actor..."

He's the kind of guy who when he's jealous, he crosses his arms while tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, rolling his eyes while huffing in annoyance, waiting for you to pay attention to him.

But despite that, of course he would watch your movie, after all, he wouldn't miss any work his beloved participated in!!

But when the kiss scene came on screen, he would do anything to grab the TV remote and skip that scene, swearing that this scene adds nothing to the film's purpose.😭

— A/N: I'm obsessed with Alien Stage and that's all I can think about...... You guys have no idea, this has completely changed my life (for the worse)😍🤩🥰🤩😍🤩😍