#like. this will break him. but i need to see HOW he acts when hes broken
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drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭
They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.
He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment
Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.
How dare he show up?!
It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.
she had every right to be
“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.
She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.
“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”
“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”
Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”
He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.
She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.
The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.
“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.
“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”
“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used
He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”
Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.
“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.
Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”
She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”
He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.
Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”
Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.
“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”
Drew blinked, startled. “What?”
“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.
Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.
He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”
Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”
Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile
Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times
He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.
“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.
© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓
#works!⟡࿔*:・゚#bambi!reader✦ •ִ ᜔.#drew starkey#aesthetic#drew starkey imagine#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey x reader#drew x reader
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Between Two Points - Ace
Art from the doujinshi Torch by NINEKOKS
Summary: You and Ace have had a ✨thing✨for a good while now so sharing a bed wasn’t strange for you. It was, however, absolutely tormenting Ace, who couldn’t keep his mind from every time you’ve touched. You wake up to find him wanting. You thought you could keep things quick and fun but they just keep on escalating. Especially when he begs to be inside you for the first time.
A/N: oh how Ace has haunted me, especially while writing this lol he’s one of my top favs so brain said we extra need to do him justice 👏 pretty happy with the smut but I’m most happy with the ending scene - I wanted it to be sweet and silly and so very Ace. Part of the Between Two Points series!
Warnings: nsfw, Implications of inexperience (Ace), first time together, sleepy sex (at first lol), subby Ace, he begs and thanks you like a lot, he calls you “pretty” as a pet name, praise kink both ways, emotionally fragile Ace, I didn’t mean for that to come out but he demands it, I just wanna shower him in love and validation until he Understands, until then he gets some pussy, multiple orgasms (for both yayyyyy), overstimulation on Ace, probably cumflation, definitely my obsession with men fighting not to cum, you make him suck the mess off your fingers, aftercare, silly banter to soothe the soul, fem!reader - kept it basically gn but then an old lady joke called to me at the end whoops
Word Count: 10.2k
Come get a serving of that soup ( ˘▽˘)っ♨
“If you see your daydreams in me, they'll not lack
What's been weighted in me, I'll make you quake with reason
I can feel your knees sinking into the bed
Searching in my dark eyes to break what’s been said
There’s a wake of grace, hunting your soreness down
There's a light in my skin that's been dimmed
I'mma dig you up and give you what I took
Pull you up and tuck you in and make you look
I'ma smooth your shoulders down and calm what's shook
It was all forlorn, if only for a season
Watching me is like watching a fire take your eyes from you”
“Can something like this be pulled
From under our feet?
Leaving our skin
And burning coals to meet
Tell me now
The shortest distance
Between two points
Is the line
From me to you”
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
Ace still can’t believe you’re in the same bed. Every step into intimacy he’s taken with you leaves him shocked and stumbling. He’ll keep tripping after you forever though because, gods, it’s you. You’ve done a hundred and one things to impress him in emergency and battle, to take his breath away with how you decorate yourself, to make him and others watch on in awe at your skills. Though, all of that pales in comparison to the simple act of you being you. You, who wormed your way into his mind with your quirks and open-minded talks. You, who could light up his body with a simple look, a tender touch, a loving smile. You, who took hold of his heart with your patient kindness and understanding.
You, who is currently keeping him up with the delicious turmoil of holding you so close.
This is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed. Now, you’ve done plenty of other things together, so Ace hadn’t thought that it would be such a big deal. When it hit him that he was really going to be falling asleep cuddled up to you, something so affectionate and domestic, his heart pumped an extra hard beat to wash tingles under his skin. He had thought the flush of excitement would peter off into comfort and contentment. To be fair, a part of it did. The problem is that the other part began incessantly bombarding him with thoughts of everything you could be doing in the bed besides sleeping.
His past experience with you is only making it harder where he thought it would ease his nerves at being close. The sweet or heated kisses you’d grab him to steal only make his lips lonely at their memory. The spark in your eyes as your kisses move southward haunts him and keeps his dick twitching pathetically against your thigh. The echoes of times he got to be the one with his head between your legs, smothering himself in the heady taste and smell of you, has him biting back whimpers. Fuck, he’s aching and flushed and desperate and all you’re doing is sleeping in his arms. He feels guilt creep in.
This should be enough. He shouldn’t be laying here wishing for more of you while you’re already so sweetly snuggling into his chest, offering him trust and affection. Holding you while you’re at your most vulnerable should sate him. Feeling how soft and warm you are with your weight sinking the two of you together should ease him to rest. Yet his mind keeps reminding him of the last time your weight was pressing on him, leaving him equal parts wound up and embarrassed.
As usual, you had been tapped right into when he needed you to escalate things but felt he didn’t have the right to ask. All day he’d been hovering around you, a hand always on arm or shoulder and eyes always ready to jump to you. He was chasing at your heels when you waved for him to follow you so you could settle him with some attention. He was pawing at you the moment your lips touched, moaning at the first rub of tongues, grinding right when you pressed deeper into him.
Soon he was on the floor with you on his lap, your palms pressing your weight into his heaving chest and your hips working him over. He flushed an even deeper shade of pink when you told him how pretty he looks. The thought of it has his cock jumping even now, and he struggles to keep from grinding up into your lower stomach. He can feel a hint of your mound at the base of his cock, begging him to press harder to tease himself with your plush heat and the firmness of your pelvis underneath. Knowing your clit was hiding right there against him - in easy reach for him to make you squirm with pleasure, make such pretty pretty noises, think of nothing else but how good he’s making you feel - chips away at his resolve.
The memory continues with the feeling of his fingers sinking into the meat of your hips, caught between pulling you faster and shoving you off because he felt all too close to his end for a grown man who hasn’t even gotten his pants off yet. You were even still fully clothed but didn’t seem to pay that any mind as you circled and ground yourself on the hard cock trapped in his pants. Even with the layers, he felt how hot your cunt was getting, burning even more against him than your mouth when it took to painting a path through his freckles from cheeks to chest. When you took breaks to grind slowly over him, he felt the little moment where your hips slid before your clothes followed, delayed by you slipping through your own wetness first. His eyes rolled back at the fact that using him got you soaked and that out of everyone you chose him to sit your drooling pussy on.
With that thought and his grinds chasing you back, he felt his balls pull taught and his cock pound dangerously.
No, fuck, he hasn’t even made you cum - his clothes, fuck, he’s still in his clothes you, can’t see him cum in his pants like some pathetic boy, no nonono-
“Please,” Ace gasped out, using all his will power to still his hips and keep them pressed to the ground, “I’m- I’m too- please -hhah- you’re just so- fuck! Please, baby.” He was panting the words between moans, trying to find enough strength to hold your hips still. “Just s-slow down, I’m -nnnngh-” You just smiled devilishly down at him and kept picking up the pace. He grit his teeth and arched his head back, “I’m so fucking close- ah!”
He hides his face in the pillows and your hair even as the praises you had showered him in echo in his ears while he holds your sleeping body. His own painfully awake body shivers while he thinks of how hard he came, how each pump had felt like overwhelming bliss trapped against your heat and to the tune of your voice. It has him grinding against you before he can even think and sighing out in relief at a little bit of the touch he needs.
“Ace?”
Your sleepy mumble makes him freeze, every muscle taught like he grabbed a live wire.
“Why are you awake, honey?” The genuine concern in your sleep-thick voice only makes him feel worse. You try to lift your face from his chest, but a hand on the back of your head traps you there. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” he swallows, hoping to trap the stutter back down. “Don’t worry - go back to sleep.”
He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head and scratches your scalp to try and settle you. It works for a moment and he relishes in the feel of your body relaxing back against him. That is, until you shift to the side and snuggle deeper. Your thigh brushes his obvious hard on and you both tense. He panics when he feels your eyelashes tickle his chest, letting him know your eyes flew open wide.
“Oh.”
Yeah, oh, he thinks miserably. He’s confused when he feels you smile against his skin.
“Ace, honey, are you enjoying sleeping with me?” Even with the sleepy tone, you manage to get a lot of smug teasing in your voice.
“Yes?” That wasn’t meant to be a question.
“You sure?” you prod. “You seem awful tense.”
You emphasize the last word with a firm press and rub of your thigh against his aching erection. His whole body shivers and a high sigh escapes him. His hands grasp you at hip and shoulder and he’s struck with the déjà vu of not knowing whether to drag you closer or make you stop.
You’re having no such struggle, happy to find him a wanting mess. You’ll never get over seeing the confident and playful air he parades around with slipping off to reveal something fragile and seeking when you touch him. Sure, he won you initially with that part of him, charming you to his side like every other moth drawn to his inherent light, trapping you there with all the others under his protection and love. Knowing what pieces can lie under that blaze only makes the show more fun to watch. Knowing someone so powerful, so magnetic, feels the same way for you? Shows you places they’re scared to let others see? It’s your greatest rush and most cherished responsibility.
“You’re perfect, honey,” you praise. He just barely bites back a whimper. “Did you know I was dreaming about you?”
“You were?” Ace sounds much more disbelieving than you’d like.
“Mhmm, I do it often.” Your voice softens with honesty. “You’re always on my mind.”
There’s a slight tremble to Ace’s hold on you. He wants to say something, anything, but his throat has closed too tight for words to pass.
“I can prove it to you,” the flirtatious heat to your voice eases the fragile vulnerability away. Ace is yet again thankful for your sixth sense when it comes to his needs. Your thigh creeping its way over his leg and hips helps distract him from the pressure behind his eyes. You settle your leg when it’s resting centered on his sensitive head. The weight of your soft thigh easing down on him forces a shaky “hh-ah!” from him and he feels his face flush in embarrassment and need. You reward the sound with a kiss to his pec.
“Well?” you whisper. “Are you gonna check?”
“Huh?” Ace’s blood is all in the wrong head for him to understand anything but praise and orders. You giggle at him and it makes his dick jump against your thigh.
Taking mercy on him, you grab the hand that’s planted on your hip. Slowly, you lead it to the swell of your ass and press his large hand to grip at you. He does so eagerly, playing with the pliant flesh filling his warm hold. Your sleep shorts are thin, letting him feel you easily despite the barrier. He can’t resist the instinct to pull and spread you open. You hum happily at the feeling, arching into it. Ace blows out a tense breath, bedding his cheek into the top of your head and canting his hips up ever so slightly.
“So good, sweetheart,” you sigh. He squeezes down and turns his face to find comfort in the smell of your hair. “Let me show you.”
You urge his hand a little lower, right to the hem of your shorts. You only stop when his fingertips slip under and tickle the skin right beside the swell of your lips. You want him to decide this on his own. He teases the elastic for a moment before trailing the pad of his finger over your underwear right where the seam of your pussy is, starting from your entrance up to your clit and back. Another content hum leaves you, encouraging him, and he swivels his hand to cup your heat. He shivers at the hot breath curling over his chest, and his head swirls happily when you arch your hips up to push your cunt deeper into his palm.
This time it’s your own hand gripping your ass to spread you open for him. You arch and nudge into his hold more, unintentionally grinding over his cock in your writhing. His fingers twitch, teasing your clit, sparking it to life and leaving you wanting. He’s having trouble keeping himself tempered instead of writhing when he can feel the dampness of your underwear and how they slide messily between his palm and your pussy. He wants it coating his fingers, smeared on his lips, maybe one day he can feel it soaking his cock-
“Touch me,” you whine impatiently.
Hasty fingers push under the band of your underwear and slip between your folds.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Ace moans. His voice is low in his chest but softened by his breathlessness. He takes his time petting around your entrance and enjoying the feeling of your lips slipping to encase his fingers when he flattens them out to reach your clit.
“Told you I was dreaming about you,” you mumble happily. Even though your body is heated and tingling, you’ve still got the weight of sleep pulling at you, leaving you in a content mix of dreaminess and pleasure. You relax further into Ace, happy to let him touch you as he likes in that tentative, worshipping way of his. It’s that endearing contrast to the brash and confident way he presents himself and fights. He always starts touching you like it’s an honor he doesn’t deserve, something he needs to take slowly lest he scare you off or never get the chance again. Even though you love the treatment, it breaks your heart that he thinks he’s so below you as to not deserve to touch you, let alone receive your affection.
The tip of a finger presses at your entrance, just enough to have the pad sink in. You swivel your hips to urge him further and moan when he listens to your plea. Ace moans with you, always amazed at your tight heat. It welcomes him easily despite gripping down snugly on his skin. He pulls his digit out with a curl, shivering when your muscles clamp back against him. You sigh his name in that dreamy way that makes him feel special, and he can’t help but add another finger and sink them in deep. Even though he’s in to the last knuckle, you shove your face down into his chest and your ass into the air to try and suck him in deeper. He rewards you by petting at your walls, drawing more pleasurable twitches from your cunt.
“More,” you whine. It’s half demand and half complaint and all turning his brain to mush. How quickly you are winding into desperation is only making his own need grow. He needs to hear more from you, he needs you to fix the burning under his skin, he needs fuck himself into a place so deep in you that you can never be rid of him.
“Need to be inside you,” Ace groans before he can think about the words. “Please, pretty baby, you feel too good-” he swallows thickly when you hungrily grind back onto his massaging fingers, “fuck -hah- need to know-” he can’t finish his sentence because you’ve snuck your hand down to palm his erection and stroke him in time with your thrusting hips.
“Think you’re ready to fuck me?” you ask. You meant to check in and make sure he was emotionally ready, but your breaths rushing out of you made it sound harsh.
“Please,” he begs, voice broken, holding you tight with his free hand, “I’ll make you feel so good- promise, promise.”
“I’m just worried-”
“It’ll be okay,” he promises immediately, “just a quick feel, you don’t even have to let me fuck you- just gotta feel you on my cock at least once.” He tries to win your favor by using his free hand to tease your clit.
“Ace,” you gasp. It’s hard to slow him down when he’s winding your body up so well. With a quick jerk, he shifts you up his body, giving him better leverage to work you on his fingers. It lands your face in the pillow next to his and he takes the opportunity to suck open mouthed kisses across your neck. You mean to talk to him and get a hold on how frantic he’s getting, but all you can do is let out muffled moans into soft cotton.
“I’ll be good,” Ace whispers against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and humid and gets you one step closer to an orgasm lighting you on fire. “I’ll make you cum until you can’t worry anymore.” The fingers tweaking your clit and prodding your firming walls give weight to his promise. Your hips are already starting to stiffen and twitch with the oncoming climax. “I’ll keep begging, I’ll worship you, anything you want, just, fuck-” his voice breaks before he can stop it. “Please let me feel you.”
Ace feels like he can’t get enough air; he won’t be able to breathe if you pull away - he’s sure he’ll suffocate without you. His whole body is pulsing and alive with urgency, not just the cock straining against his pants. The only thing that’s keeping him grounded is you. Your pretty moans slipping out, half-covered by the pillow. Your searching hands, grasping and working his body over in search of something to hold on to. Your chest blanketing his own, ebbing and flowing in waves with your heavy breathing pressing into him. Most of all, the slick, plush grip of your cunt around his fingers, singing to him in little wet slaps every time it welcomes his fingers back home.
“Ace, I’m-” you turn your head towards him so he can hear and find him already looking at you. His flush is deep enough to try and hide his freckles and his pupils are blown enough to turn his brown eyes black. His slack jaw lets your breaths mingle. The pressure of his fingers on your clit increases just the slightest bit, but it’s just right to get your body to clamp down and not let go. “I’m so close, gonna cum, please, love-” Ace sobs out a moan at the new pet name and presses the fingers inside you even more insistently “ahhn! Don’t stop, don’t stop, gonna-”
You suck in a greedy breath and it’s trapped in your lungs as your body starts to seize up. The hit of pleasure has you curling as close as you can into Ace, needing to clutch him when the first wave crests heavily. His fingers follow you when you squirm to center fully on top of him, soothing you through the ride with gentle pumps into your twitching walls. You breathe again after a moment, letting out a flurry of praise into Ace’s shoulder. The little shakes of your hips make you rub against his trapped cock and his eyes roll back against his wish to keep watching you.
The way your pussy clamps down on his fingers is absolute torture. Pressed so close with his eyes shut, he can almost imagine the rhythmic waves of your spasming cunt milking him while he fucks you full of cum. It has him panting along beside you like he was the one who just came.
You’re easing down from your high, swollen walls settled along his now unmoving fingers. The sound of your panting settles with you and the room starts to still into a cozy calmness. Your muscles feel liquid and uncooperative as you try to adjust into a comfier position. The movement yet again rubs you against Ace and he whimpers at the heavy gush of precum it pulls from him.
With a pained sound, Ace wiggles the hand that had been toying with your clit out from under your hips and past his sensitive cock to draw shapes on your back. The action brings the smell of sex closer up to his face and he can’t help but groan. Fuck, he doesn’t want to push you or bother you, but the high of seeing you cum has passed and left him even more wanting.
“Pretty?” Ace starts softly. He kisses at your temple and you hum in reply. “...please?”
You hum again, only half hearing him between the orgasm taking the wind out of your sails and that wind having only been a small gust in the first place given it was somewhere around the witching hour.
“I still need you,” he urges, pressing his hips up gently for some miniscule relief and to make you understand. He’s scalding hot below you and throbbing into your lower stomach and it starts to bring you some clarity.
“While I’d love to continue, I’m tired,” you sigh. Before he can apologize or take it the wrong way, you continue. “Normally that wouldn’t really be a problem, but I want to be bright eyed and bushy tailed the first time I fuck you.” Even with the casual way you’re talking, Ace sighs happily and pulls you tighter at the idea. Before you can think about how you’re about to contradict your words, your mouth moves and you’re back to riling him. “I’ve thought of our first time together a lot, and I’m going to treat you to much more than some sleepy sex.” He shivers and moves back to mouthing at your neck at the promise. “I want you sitting pretty under me while I show you everything I can do to you.”
“But I’m under you now,” Ace argues.
“You are, and you’re doing so good at the looking pretty thing too,” you sigh in mock defeat. You feel him smile against your neck, both from the praise and from gaining some ground. Gotta get that idea back out of his head. “I don’t wanna leave you hanging, but I want to do more for you the first time you’re inside me.”
Ace doesn’t share that worry. He’s more worried about using his free hand to start guiding your hips in slow circles to feel the motion around the fingers still sitting inside you. It also teases his still leaking cock and makes it painfully easy to imagine the sensation blending so his cock feels the circles and the grip of your cunt. It flutters on his digits and he flexes his hand to feel the twitching muscles better, putting pressure towards your lower stomach. You keen at the burn it sets in your nerves, arching against his hand to feel more. Shoved so snuggly into your body, Ace’s fingers pick up the thump of your racing heart beating behind the walls of your pussy. He’s never needed anything more than he needs to feel it tapping against the racing pulse of his own heart pulsing through his cock.
“Please, pretty, please please ple-hease” he begs again, beyond reason. “What if- what if we don’t fuck? What if you just let me inside you to keep me warm?”
The idea is quite tempting. You kiss at the side of his face, giving yourself time to enjoy the fantasy of cockwarming him. It’s one you’ve come back to many times in your daydreams of him. Still, you want to fuck the sanity out of him the first time he’s inside you.
“Ace, no-”
“Just the tip.” The words are rushed and breathless and broken. “What if it’s just the tip?”
You realize there’s no reasoning with him and you’re losing the want to try. It’s not like you haven’t been wanting to fuck him since lust rode in on the coattails of “wow he’s pretty and so sweet”. He’s not the only one hiding insecurities though, and you frequently fear that if you don’t keep up the trend of blowing his mind with all the physical stuff then he’ll get bored of you. You can’t accept your first time together being anything less than perfect; the very idea fills you with dread, so much so that the potent temptation of Ace writhing and begging and even just his fingers making you feel so fucking good hasn’t shaken it off you.
“I can’t-” Ace swallows hard, “I can’t just keep dreaming about it, please, fuck, pretty, I need you.”
You believe him. You’ve never heard him so lost before in all your times fooling around. He’s prone to his tongue loosening the longer you touch and this is far from the first time he’s pleaded with you, but this felt different. There’s a frantic undertone to his voice and the words spilling from his lips. There’s truth to the emotion turning his grasp into a delicious mix of powerful and trembling. There’s no arguing with the twitching length grinding into your lower stomach - no way you can deny how hard he feels or the heat of it burning against you even through your clothes. It’s enough to make you lose yourself to the thought of getting to clamp down around his firm cock while the length finds places to toy with much deeper than you can reach. You can tell from the shape against you his width would press back at every nerve you’ve got, waking them up and making them sing.
You come back to reality when he sneaks in a deep thrust of his fingers. The wet sound makes him moan, and the responding clench turns it into a deep, throaty “fuck”. His head flies back as he arches and grinds. You look up from the pillow and see his pretty black waves piling next to the sharp cut of his jaw. The bob of his throat as he swallows matches the jump of his cock. You feel every detail of it and notice he’s leaked enough to soak through his shorts and your shirt, leaving a sticky spot against your skin.
“You make me feel so good,” Ace moans. “I can make you feel good too.”
The fact that he thinks he needs to convince you of that even with his fingers stuffed in you, held tight with how your cunt’s swelled from pleasure, proves he’s very far from rational thought.
“You did,” you promise with a sweet kiss to his neck. “Now it’s your turn.” His head shoots up to give you a hopeful look. “You’ve cum from less, isn’t this enough?” You swirl your hips down against him to illustrate your point.
“It’s not about cumming,” he grumbles, suddenly sounding a bit more coherent and honestly a bit offended. “I wanna be closer.”
That throws you so off guard you just spit out the first thing that comes to mind.
“We could take off our clothes?”
Ace doesn’t give you time to take it back, his hands flying from you and already shoving his shorts down his thighs. He sighs in relief when his cock springs free, and nudges his head into yours mindlessly in relieved affection. Too impatient to finish the task, he stops pushing his shorts while they’re halfway down to instead get his hands under your shirt. You go to finish what he started but get distracted taking handfuls of his waist and thighs. When you thumb at the descending line of his adonis belt, Ace can do nothing but press into your touch, even pausing his mission to get under your clothes.
You lay yourself back on Ace, now trapping his dick between his twitching abs and the soft skin of your stomach and the tease of trimmed hair on your mound. Somewhere in his brain he thinks he should be ashamed of how he’s an absolute mess from something so simple as feeling your skin on his cock. At the moment, the shame is overshadowed by sheer need and awe. This is you - he’s dreamed of this, agonized over it, sat drowning in a mind and body desperate to find a way to get you to look at him, let alone touch him. Even when you started pulling him with you for teasing tastes on top of your shared missions together, all the time between had them feeling fake. Getting to have you feels so foreign and unattainable that his brain writes it off as false memories when you aren’t in his hands.
And that’s why he holds you all the more tightly when you’re in reach. He needs you cemented in his grip and sunk into every sense so you’re all he knows. No questions, no doubts, no loneliness, no hollowness, just the comfort of you. He gets his lips back on yours before he breaks.
You hook your thumbs into your shorts and underwear but it’s not quick enough for Ace. He grabs them in a tight fistful and yanks. Your spread thighs keep them from getting lower than the end of your ass and Ace whines into your mouth. Trying not to break the kiss, you lean onto your right leg and try to work the other out of your clothing. It’s a clumsy and messy affair, each of you using a hand to tug at the garments while the other is busy trying to feel and hold as much of each other as possible. You lean back to look and finally get the damn thing off and Ace chases you the whole way. Between the hot slide of tongue, the nipping on lips, and the dancing rolls of kiss and grind you manage to get your left leg completely free of clothing.
“Fuck, pretty, how -hhh-ah!- do you do that?” Ace moans breathlessly after you set your hips back on him.
“Do what?” You’re moving your clit up and down his shaft in torturously slow grinds, mind fuzzed with the feeling of your wetness making you glide so smoothly on him.
“Make me -mmnngh!- fuck-” You circle your clit around his sensitive head, turning his speech into a few heaving breaths and groans. “Make me forget everything.”
Your lips are back on his in a rush, too fast for you to get out all the loving words living in you. First it’s as insistent and firm as your hips are working him over. After a long minute though, he’s lost too much breath to do much more than pant and hump into you in a desperate chase to feel more and more. You begin laying quick kisses to his cheek and land one in the shape of a smile on the corner of his open mouth. You feel it curl up under the press of your lips.
“You m-make me happy,” Ace admits, a twinge of nerves managing to show through all the arousal in his voice. You bump your nose to his gently.
“You’re my happiness, Ace.”
He whines and screws his eyes shut even more tightly. You feel his cock throb heavily against you. Taking advantage, you change to little circles against him and feel the pressure of it tease at your clit and entrance. A hand snakes into your hair and grips, holding you steady to press your foreheads together. His eyes crack open to search yours for lies. Even in the rush of your grinding bodies, the eye contact is still and sturdy as steel.
“You can’t just say that,” Ace breathes.
You feel how close he is, even harder than before and thrusts getting stilted in an attempt not to cum. You set on that singlemindedly, needing to hear his breathy broken moans, feel him squirm and jerk, shove him straight into a headspace empty of all but bliss. You get your own hand in his hair and tug, earning a moan and more pleads. Busying your mouth with his neck, you begin sliding along his whole length at a quick pace. The burn in your thighs is nothing compared to the pressure building between your hips, getting tighter and brighter with every swipe.
“No, holy shit, so close, s’close -hah hahngg-“ Ace starts babbling, “wanna cum in you, I’ll do anything, I’ll -mnnngh- anything please, fuck, too good, so fucking wet, so -fuck- can’t, please no, no ‘m gonna cum-“
You suck and teethe at the sensitive spot behind his ear and twist your grip in his hair, sure that would throw him over. Instead he lunges forward to sink his teeth into your shoulder and his hands clamp onto your hips to hold them perfectly still. You’re reminded of the power in the man who falls apart for you. It makes you clench and gush against him with a throaty moan. He holds on for dear life through it, tensing and throbbing and leaking and just barely managing to hold off his orgasm.
Once he’s sure he’s relatively safe, he lets go of your shoulder and begins kissing over the slight indents. The gentle touch feels electric on the tender skin. He continues to hold your hips prisoner, imobile against his own. After some deep breaths he pulls back to look at you.
“I don’t want it to ever stop,” his eyes are shiny and his lips tremble, but not as much as his words. “Please.” That commanding grip lightens. He slides his hands so he can massage his thumbs into the creases where your thighs meet your hips, sending sparks under your skin. “Just a little of you.”
Your resolve finally breaks and you agree. “Just the tip.”
“Thank you,” Ace rushes out. “Remind me to take you out and spoil you.”
You huff out a laugh even though you’re pretty sure he’s serious.
“As if you don’t try already.”
You shimmy forward and he rights you into his grip again; getting you on him with as much skin to skin as possible, just where you belong. It makes maneuvering a bit more difficult but neither of you care; you’re too busy enjoying each other’s heat and taste.
“No goofing, just romance.”
His arms encase you while yours frame him, taking time to touch skin and play with his fluffy hair. You’re firmly settled against him, laying with your cunt just in reach of his leaking head. Each breath presses you deeper into each other and lets pressure tease at your breasts. You take a moment to sneak fingers to your sides so you can tweak his nipple. The shocked hiss is one of your favorites.
“Where’s the fun in that?” You reach back to grab hold of him and give him a few firm strokes, just to hear his pretty gasps. “The gentleman act isn’t as fun without the goofy contrast.”
“It’s not an a-aahhhhhhnn-“ You use your grip on him to circle his head on your entrance and press back just enough for the weeping tip to catch. After drawing out the sensation for a few more breaths, you move to sit up for a better angle to give him a shallow ride, but he stops you.
“Stay.” Even though it’s an order it sounds like a plea. At your confused look he continues, “If you stay like this I won’t be able to start fucking you if I lose myself.”
He feels you clench against his cockhead and it twitches in response, desperate to sink just a little deeper and letting you know with a pressure that hovers just under enough to finally slip into you. He knows “if” was too weak a word; the moment he feels the plush heat of your cunt he’s a goner. He’s had ambition and determination and stubbornness woven through parts of his being since his first breath. Yet they all fail him when he aims them at restraint here. Staring down a warlord was easier than fighting his bone deep desire for you. You just have a way of making him feel so full of life that it circles back around to an endless emptiness unless he’s smothered in your presence. Like any addict, the starting hits were no longer enough and he’d chase bigger and bigger ones til he had the endless high of being always near and always yours. His body being newer to such waves makes it easier for his instincts to take over him when more becomes not enough.
You feel the slick skin of his tip licking at your entrance with each breath you both take, so focused on every little motion you swear you can feel his heartbeat against your cunt. You start pressing back more.
“Wait,” Ace gasps. He plans a hand at the back of your head and turns it to face him. You meet blown pupils in shiny eyes, brows fighting not to pinch, freckles dancing with every word and expression. His warm breath tickles your swollen lips and you can taste its sweetness on your tongue. You want to keep looking around his pretty face but his pleading eyes have you locked in their heat. “Look at me.”
You barely think to give him a shaky nod.
Ace reaches his other hand down to join yours on his shaft. It slips easily around your grip and holds gently, letting you keep control. Your hand feels so hot between his large one and the beating cock in your palm. Testing his grip, you slowly pump down his shaft, a slick sound from the dripping of your cunt and his precum sliding through your fingers, and make your way back up to the tip with a twisting wrist. His hand trembles around yours and he curses against your lips but he simply follows your movements.
Happy with the reaction, you continue on. He begins sinking in and his brows furrow further. The slow pace lets him feel every bit of texture, every flutter of the muscles of your entrance as they greet him. He’s in enough for you to encase his slit and you both feel the reward of a thick gush of precum spilling right into you. You breath out a syrupy “so good” and Ace fights again not to cum again - it gives him visions of fucking you fast and deep until you’re hiccuping those words and he’s pumping you full for real. He doesn’t want to be hasty though, he might miss a single second of this blissful torture.
His dick is pressed in to a catch, hovered right where his head flares widest. You hold him steady and give a little circle of your hips to feel him play with your stretching entrance.
“-hah- holy o-oh -nnnngh- thank you thank you,” he mumbles and moans between trying to breathe. His eyes roll back and screw shut for a moment before he fights them back open to watch your hazy eyes and slack jaw. He pulls you forward by the hand in your hair to press your foreheads together. Those fingers begin a haphazard massage as they switch between grasping for grounding and petting at you in adoration.
You take in a lungful of his breath and his musk and the ambient sex and shimmy just a little lower. At last, your cunt gives to let the rim of his head pop in, finally warming you from the inside. It immediately has you clench down and you can’t help but moan pathetically at finally having something to clench down on. The burning skin of his cockhead presses back at the twitching walls of your cunt, sending jolts up your spine.
“Y-you -ahh- you’re so-“ Ace is struggling against his scattered mind and an ocean of oxytocin to get you to understand how perfect you are and how his chest is so full it aches and how he’d fight through pirates, marines, the whole world government just to be this close to you again. All that comes out is a grumbling, fervent moan of “warm”.
You clench again at the word and he whimpers. You slip your hand off of his cock and out of his grip before using it to make him hold his cock for you. It gets the sticky mess all over him, which he quickly uses to twist his hand slowly up and down his shaft. You follow the movement for a few pumps then bring your hand up to your faces. You’d wanted a taste but you get a better idea.
The moment the pads of your fingers touch Ace’s lips, he opens them just a bit wider for you. He can smell the heady mix of you both and his mouth waters eagerly. Slowly and deliberately, you sneak two fingers past his lips and press them on his tongue, his eyes burning into you the whole time. He’s quick to seal his lips and suck, hot tongue roving over your digits to collect every drop. You can hear the wet sound of his working hand get faster. You shove your fingers in to the last knuckle and he swallows them down greedily, moaning the whole time.
It’s impossible to keep yourself still; the fucked out look on Ace’s flushed face and the attention feeding but not sating your cunt make you squirm. All the movement from his jerking, constantly getting faster and firmer, has his cockhead massaging every nerve of your entrance and reverberated through your lips and clit, sinfully delicious yet maddeningly subtle. Your body is begging for him to force his way deep, split you around his thick cock, feel that pounding drag against every inch of your swollen and pulsing pussy. Instead, you have to settle for a slow tilt and pull of your hips, guiding the head sitting heavy in you to press more one way then the next. One particularly hard pump of his hand sends a strong shock to your clit and you grip him with your hands as tightly as your core wrings down around him. A heavy throb of his cock gushes more precum into you.
Hearing how much he’s struggling to breathe fast enough through his nose, you pull your fingers from his mouth to instead pull at his hair. He’s mumbling out curses and praises between frantic kisses around your lips. The battle to stare into your eyes is becoming lost; Ace’s won’t stop rolling back and fluttering closed and losing focus. You can practically taste how close he is and it sets your whole body alight. You’re sure when he cums you’ll be able to feel the pleasure in your own body.
“Ace,” you call and his eyes crack open to see you again. His lashes are so dark and long and make his eyes look all the darker. “Need to feel you cum.” The words are rushed and urgent, trying to sneak around gasps and moans. “Love, I want you t-to -mnnn!- fuck me full.”
“Fuck!” The word “love” echoes violently around Ace’s head, and he’s so wound up and frayed he’s scared he may actually catch fire. His scramble is immediate - hands flying down to clamp onto your hips, fingers sinking deep into your skin, head thrown back giving you a full view of the flush hiding his freckles, the strong jaw working between going slack and gritting his teeth, but most importantly his hips thrust against his will. A mindless, ravenous instinct locked in place and told him to rut until neither of you could move, until each thrust wrung more cum from him only to have it gush out of you because how could you possibly hold more?
Unfortunately, Ace had planned ahead. Your precarious alignment lets the first few thrusts sink him just a centimeter deeper, the relief of more of you only matched by the insatiable need to have all of you. Just when he feels the knot of pleasure pull his balls taught and tense his cock hard as a rod, a thrust knocks him loose.
Ace lets out an actual wail as he loses your heat. The bliss of his orgasm gets lost with it, ebbing away quickly and leaving him frantic.
“No fuck I- please I was so close, shit-,” Ace sobs right by your ear where he’s nestled himself close for comfort.
Needing to calm him and missing the feeling of him too terribly, your hand goes back to his cock while you distract him with sloppy open mouthed kisses. You find him easily and try to settle him with a few firm pumps. Ace is relieved as the feeling comes back fast and he’s already tensing and squirming and curling his toes as his orgasm beats to life in his cock again.
“That’s it, love,” you encourage. “I’ve got you.”
“Can’t, cumming cummingcumming-“ Ace chants urgently, kicked straight over the edge by your care. You rush to get him back inside you first but his cock’s already kicking in your grip. The first spray of cum lands where your thigh meets your ass and the second splashes over your pussy. By the third you’re pressing him back in. The whole time Ace is moaning high and gasping and pulling you to him like he needs you to breathe. He’s squirming and handsy, back arching off the bed while he takes any handful of you he can get. You feel the heavy pump of his next spurt of cum and fall to instinct yourself. You push your body down his and plop the weight of your hips in his lap, taking him in one swift motion and a heavy slap.
“Yes! Y-ye-nnnghah!- yesss thank you thank you two good so good s’good-“
You grind yourself in a heavy drag, forward and back, relishing having him all the way inside you. He feels thick enough to press your hips wide and long enough to punch at your lungs. Each grind has him play with your insides, lighting every nerve to make you feel like he’s filled you from head to toe. Each grind also has a fresh throb press at your cunt and spurt more sticky cum where his head twitches against your deepest spots. It has an unfamiliar pit swallowing the orgasm that’s nearly formed in your core, filling your nerves with a new life. You pick up the pace, needing more of that deep seated burn you can feel with each rub of him in the pit of your gut.
Ace whines as his sensitive cock has less and less to give yet keeps up its pumping. He’s beside himself, feels completely out of control of his muscles and voice as he grinds and moans and pleads, yet somehow his hands help press your hips harder into his, adding strength to your ride with every push and pull. He’s left slack jawed at the feeling, mouth hung open to let out every humid pant and desperate sound. He can feel your thighs clamp up around his hips, your fingers claw frantically at his chest, your hips begin to shake and jump. Most of all he can feel the coming orgasm sink into the muscles of your cunt as they swell and twitch and begin to clamp down on him like a vice.
“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop-“ now you’re chanting to him and he feels a new rush flow through his body. The ending orgasm is replaced with new interest amid the burning haze of overstimulation. Every fiber in him knows that he just needs to make you cum and he’ll know what heaven is like.
Ace sits up quickly to meet you, detouring to mouth over your swaying chest and enjoy a taste of your perked nipples before he gets some space to watch your blissed out face and writhing body. He begins thumbing at your clit while his other hand urges your hips up a few inches. For a moment you keep your hips moving but they freeze when Ace plants the hand that was on them behind him and his feet on the mattress and he starts to fuck up into you. They’re shallow, staccato slaps of his hips into yours, sloppily pushing his cum out of you to make stickier sounds, sending vibrations rattling through the underside of your clit still pressed under his thumb, and it’s exactly everything you ever needed.
The deep pit his fat cockhead taps at again and again pulls taught until your whole cunt squeezes and then you feel like you burst. A breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a holler of his name and you curl forward to cling to him. You try and ride out the high as it seizes you, shaking through your hips and legs and tightening its fist around your whole core. You don’t remember an orgasm ever massaging through you like this before - pulling heavy waves of clamp and release from your cervix to your entrance, each one making Ace’s cock feel even bigger and the pressure of that cock forcing you to stay open makes you nerves sing and dance tingles through your clit and up your spine and under your skin.
You’re not the only one stuck at it’s mercy; Ace’s head is empty of all but the way the sensation ravages through his nervous system, taking his body from him and commanding it to hold you closer, harder, to fuck you faster, firmer. He knows his mouth is moving, but he’s not sure what it’s saying. His head is full of curses and wonder and “thank you”s and “love you”s but he has no clue what’s making it past. The only things he seems to hear are the roaring of his blood in his ears and the stream of praise tumbling from your lips. You gasp out, “Ace! Fuck, you’re so -hahn- perfect”, and he sears it in his brain forever. The way you pray your pleasure to him, bleed his name and “love” together as if they’re the same thing, it has his head spinning and his heart swelling and cock burning.
The pulses of your high get further apart so you force will into your legs and bounce with Ace to chase them. After a few though, his feet slip out straight and both hands are back on your hips to guide your thrusts and hold you tight. He’s kissing down the side of your face then hiding himself in the crook of your neck, where he can switch between kissing the taste of salt off your skin and huffing in lungfuls of the scent of your hair and skin and sweat and sex. He can taste his bliss on every moan he chokes out, can feel it throb closer with every clap of your hips he just clap needs a little more, needs the way clap your fingers tug his hair clap yes just like that and clap fuck, the way your pussy clap sucks him in clap so so close, just-
“Fuck, Ace, can’t breathe -hahnngh- too much, don’t let it stop -ah!- please, need you-“
He whimpers and crushes you in his hold, forcing you to sit still with him pressed as deep as he can go so he can feel every inch of you while he cums again. The first wave hits and he surges forward when his abs clamp tight, knees pulling up behind you to fully surround you.
“Again?” You manage to gasp against his cheek.
“Yes,” he whines, “you’re just- fuck, fuck!”
It’s near painful to cum so hard so quickly after the last. His head is murky and floating at the strange sensation of the orgasm tearing through his muscles to make him grind and pump into you without having anything to gush out. Your body still seems happy enough with the offering though, completely in sync to milk out everything he could possibly give.
It’s the perfect end to your high to be in your body enough to take in every bit of his high moans and mumbling and feel every bit of touch his instincts have him showering over you. He keeps nosing at your neck for comfort and tickling the sensitive skin there with kisses and words spoken right against your skin. His hands are deeply kneading the flesh of your hips, petting in trembling fingers and always pulling to keep your hips flush to his. His abs tense and jump, both with his stuttering breath and with the strong pulls of his dick every time it tries to force more out of him in a soul-deep need to fill you with him until he’s a permanent piece of you. His thighs are doing much the same, jostling you slightly against him from how he’s curled around you. Yes, this is exactly what you needed to cap your high and ease you back into reality. Especially with that deep voice of his showing off its range.
“Thank you, thank -nnngh- you, wanna be this close forever -ahhh- never -mm!- stop feeling you, love this, l-love y-y-hah!”
You guide him the whole time, petting his hair, kissing his temple, teasing his skin with your nails, and holding his back. The way he clings to you sets you ablaze but also lets you know how desperately he needs to feel held. His firm hold and your returning squeezes are the anchor that secures you both through the torrent and the drop from sharing bodies. Because of the affection, that drop is a landing in pure comfort and relaxation. Your muscles are all becoming liquid and you simply melt into each other and breathe.
Ace may have never finished that thought out loud, but he continued it in the affection of his lips pressing so tenderly to your heated skin. He made it clear in the reverence of his hold on you, full of trailing fingertips worshipping your shape and gentle squeezes closer with warm and supportive palms. You understood from the cozy sway he set while drawing his temple up the side of your face to then skim the tip of his nose over your cheek and rest your foreheads together then find stillness. All the words he didn’t say came through in your shared breaths, which grew from humid puffs to a slow and smooth rhythm.
Just in case you missed the rest, he brushed his lips across yours, light enough to tickle before easing forward to mold them together. Your lips part to taste him once more and he indulges you, happily slipping his tongue between your lips for another dance. It’s unhurried how you kiss, lips firm and sure in how they press and drag together, tongues brushing slowly not to arouse but to simply enjoy. The slick sounds of the deep kisses ring in your ears in the quiet room along with the hushes of breath slipping between you two. Ace pulls in one particularly deep breath through his nose before breaking the kiss to sigh his happiness out. The whole thing is punctuated by one last sweet peck.
“I feel it too, Ace,” you promise.
His voice is thick when he whispers out once more, “Thank you.”
You rest your head on his shoulder and press a smile to his skin. Ace tilts his head just so to rest it on yours and closes his eyes to simply be. You’re not sure how long you stay sat in his lap holding him. Instead of the tick of a clock you have the swell of his breaths and the brush of his thumb. Now and again he’d start and leave a subtle sway or press kisses to your hair or squeeze you just a little tighter. You’d respond to it all in kind but his favorite was when he could feel a smile press your cheek into his collarbone or when you’d rest your hand over his pec just to better feel his heartbeat.
Unfortunately, soreness begins to set in your hips and you have to move. Ace isn’t a big fan of the idea; you can tell from his grumble and his arms cinching around your waist. It's endearing, but no match for the protest in your joints.
“Ace, I’m sore,” you laugh out the complaint, too amused by his pouting. “Let’s lay down.”
“That I can agree to,” he says.
You doubt his words when you start to get off him and receive an indignant “hey”.
“Who said you were allowed to get off?”
“Pretty sure I was just letting us both get off.”
“I helped,” he pouts.
“That’s an understatement,” you reassure with two quick pats to his cheek. “But for real, I gotta get off so we can get settled.”
“Agree to disagree,” Ace chimes with that maddeningly bright and charming smile of his. It crinkles his nose a moment and scrunches his eyes in a way that brings out their glimmer and you’re sure you’d never be able to say no to that face for long.
“Okay,” you sigh. “How are we going to do this?”
“Clumsily,” he answers without missing a beat and you laugh again.
“Okay, Commander, take the reins,” you say as you settle back into laying against him, happy to let him take over this clown show.
“Ooooo ‘commander’, huh? Wanna try calling me that next time?”
Instead of responding you give his back a half-hearted swat.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he reasons.
“I’m filing it away for later, but please Ace my poor hips. You’re gonna make me an old lady in my twenties,” you whine.
“At least you make a cute granny.” You can hear the cheeky smile in his voice.
“Move!” You laugh and he finally does.
He scoots you both back once, holding you tight through it while you giggle at the bumpy ride. Now back to the center of the bed, he shimmies for good measure and lays himself back. He holds his arms out expectantly and you just raise a brow at him.
“You’re gonna slip out.”
“I believe in you,” he says. He tried to be deadpan but his lips couldn’t resist the smile.
“There’s your first mistake,” you say and he just smiles wider.
You shift to the right so you can rotate your left leg out and down. You lean your weight on his chest for balance, a palm flat on each large pec, and slide your leg down and back right next to his. You shiver at the release in your joint and Ace shivers at the pressure on his chest and the jostle of your hips. His softened dick twitches in interest.
“Stop that, we need to sleep,” you reprimand with no real heat.
“I didn’t tell it to do that,” Ace deflects.
You chuckle and continue repositioning, leaning to the left this time. It feels just as nice when your right leg gets to be straight again and you can finally lay down. It feels a little strange to be lying directly on Ace’s middle instead of tucked to his side or spooning but it’s not unwelcome. It’s definitely not a permanent feature, though, and you tell him as much.
“Just for a while,” Ace promises. Much softer he adds, “Not ready yet.”
You hum in acknowledgement. Taking stock of your body, you feel a pleasant exhaustion and let it help you sink further into Ace. His hands rest gently on your back, one spread between your shoulder blades and one drawing shapes over your lower back. His thighs are so warm next to yours and the packed muscle feels so soft when he’s relaxed like this. The same goes for the pec currently being used as your pillow. Okay, maybe you could stay this way quite awhile; Ace is unfairly warm and comfortable and having him sit still half in you sates some instinct you didn’t know you had.
“Blanket?” Ace asks.
“Dealer’s choice,” is your non-committal response.
With some reaching and finagling, Ace manages to get a hold of the sheets and flap them to lay over you. He leaves them so that they cover your legs but make it no further than the small of your back. It lets the slight chill of the room continue to cool you off without going so far as to make you cold. It’s absolutely perfect with his high body temperature radiating below you. Yeah, you’re pretty sure you could drift off into some of the best sleep of your life just like this.
A thought strikes you.
“How did you stay hard that whole time?”
“I dunno,” he answers honestly through a yawn. Then he chuckles and adds, “maybe you just have a magic pussy.”
You laugh at the stupid joke, happy he’s relaxed enough in your relationship to joke more about sex now.
“Too bad you can’t go around testing that theory,” you sigh in mock sympathy.
Ace perks up and stares at you real strong. His eyes that were just fighting sleep are now full of life. You don’t say more and just let him look and stew on your words.
“Say it again but like I’m stupid?”
“That’s what I usually try to do.”
He barks a laugh.
“Damn, must be hard loving an idiot.”
“Not at all.” The tenderness that seeps from your words melts him straight through. Thinking better of leaving it (you know he knows you’re joking, but you also know that his mind is exceptionally cruel), you use the last of your energy to get up on your elbows and look him in the eyes. “You’re a dumbass sometimes, especially with those brothers of yours, but more than that you’re really smart.” You place a sweet kiss to his forehead. “And you’re strong and determined and reliable.” A kiss to one cheek. “And empathetic and sweet and thoughtful.” A kiss to the other one. “And you wanna know what you are more than anything else?”
“What?” His voice shakes and his eyes burn and he’s so exhausted from all the emotions of the night but they’ve also been the most precious things ever.
You rest your forehead to his and take a deep breath, savoring the moment.
“You’re very very easy to love.”
A kiss binds your words and lips.
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed 🥰 Please let me know if you did and criticisms are also welcome 🤍
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seasons // series
part iii
summary: your bestfriend minho will go lengths to keep you all to himself
warnings: drinking, attempted drugging, threat of violence, male masturbation, mention of past relationships and cheating
part ii • part iv
You felt the warm sunlight filtering through the blinds of the window of your apartment, skin hot the touch. It didn't help the heat of Minho's body pressed against you made it so easy to relax into him, you subconsciously pressed your face further into his chest as his arms laid around you lazily. Cuddling wasn't a foreign concept to the two of, sometimes he needed it just as badly as you did. You shift to get up from his grip feeling his arms tighten around you to keep you in his grip but the overwhelming urge to pee forced you to pry yourself from his grip.
He peeled one eye open to see you walking quitely to the bathroom, the soft scuffling of your socks against the floor as he trailed his eyes up to your ass watching a small curve of it peek out beneath the shorts, the shorts having rode up your body as you slept. He let out a soft "hmph" as he closed his eyes again, adjusting his position on the couch. He made no move to get off the couch wanting to see if you'd come crawling back in his arms once you relieved yourself.
He was met with disappointment hearing you make your way to the kitchen undoubtedly making coffee. The two of you shared a love of coffee that led to many study dates at cafes, hangouts at cat cafes (his preferred choice of leisure activities, and coffee shop hopping once a month. He sat up on the couch seeing you had washed up and decided it would be fitting he do the same.
You look up as he walks towards your bathroom, bed hair tossed, the sleepy grumpy expression on his face as his long sleeve shirt clung to his body hugging the outlines of his muscles that made you salivate.
"Coffee?" You called out to him.
"Is that even a question?" He responded in his morning voice that made you clench your thighs.
He typically only drank americanos to keep his sugar intake low with how much he danced and worked out, fortunately for him you kept a solid amount of americano concentrate in your kitchen. You made a small breakfast for the two of you; eggs, toast, some bacon, and fruit on the side. You weren't the best cook, having left that skill up to Minho throughout college, baking was your forte. He had no complaints when he'd come to your place to make dinner for the two of you only to be rewarded with a plate full of cookies you made before he got there, or when you decided to trial run recipes looking for his approval and feedback.
"Are you still going out tonight?" He asked looking up through his long lashes as he bit into his toast, the act far too hot for something so normal.
"Uh, yeah. Felix and Han are gonna come by later. Changbin is our DD and 'escort' as Han likes to say." You say with a soft laugh remembering the look of annoyance on his face the first time Han called him that.
"Where?" There was a hint of sternness to his voice that caught you by surprise.
"This place called Layla's, fairly new club but omegas get in free on the 2nd saturday of every month."
He hummed in acknowledgment as he seemed to fixate on something on his plate. You ate quietly, unspoken words lingered in the air, as you are about to speak he breaks the tension.
"Just don't do anything stupid? Don't go home with someone just because you think it's what you need to do." There was a certain bite to his words, that struck something sensitive in you.
"Are you implying I'm stupid enough to just go sleep with anyone?"
"No... I'm just saying you've had some pretty poor taste in guys before." There it is again.
"In what way?"
"How long did you stay with your ex after you found he was cheating on you?"
His words felt like the wind was knocked out of you. He looked at you sorrowful, regretting the words already
"My bad.. didn't know getting on cheated was my fault."
"That's not what I-"
"No, I got the message loud and clear. You think I'm too incompetent to make solid judgments around the people I fuck or date. I don't need your approval, Minho. I'm a grown woman and can decide what I want for myself." You could see the sting of hurt in his face. He stared down at his plate trying to avert the fire and hurt in your gaze wanting to just scoop you in his arms and kiss the pain of it away.
Instead he chose the grimace, muttering a quick sorry before saying he needed to go home. He grabbed his sweater and keys leaving you at the table still simmering in anger and hurt. He closed the door so gently you wished he had slammed it.
He let his frustrations get the best of him in a moment of weakness.
-
It was around 6pm when Han and Felix were knocking at your apartment. As thanks to Changbin for being designated driver, they all brought stuff for dinner so no one was drinking on an empty stomach.
"Why so glum?" Felix asked gently as you played some food.
"Minho said something that pissed me off... I just want to have a good night now. So cheer me up!"
Felix gave you a knowing look, he wanted the whole story. Minho wasn't the type to just accidentally say something hurtful, there were very few occasions where the two of you ever genuinely argued.
"He told me not to do anything stupid... then said I had poor taste in guys-"
"Is he wrong?"
"Not in that aspect, no. He's not wrong. What really hurt was his implication that I was too stupid to make good judgements of people and imply I was stupid for staying with my ex after I found out he cheated on me.." It came out so rushed there was no stopping the words.
Felix paused looking over you face, sighing softly as he smoothed a hand over your hair.
"He's wrong for how he said it.. That doesn't change the fact that he's just looking out for you. Read between the lines."
I nod softly as we start to eat, chatting up our game plan.
"Okay so Laylas first, and if that doesn't work out, we go to Wolfborne." Han said firmly as he shoved a dumpling in his mouth.
"What's at Wolfborne?"
He smirked, winking as he began to ramble.
"There's a secret club in the back of the bar, lot of hot HOT people. Most people only get in via invite or because the know a bartender.."
"How did you get in?" Felix asks.
"Our lovely little friend, Jeongin, is a barback on saturday nights." Han says while stretching his arms behind his back.
Jeongin was a music major like Han, he was an alpha, a bit meek but so very very handsome. You pondered the idea, he was a bit younger but not to be confused for inexperienced.
"Alright.. I'll bite." You said with a shrug, Felix nodded in agreement.
"Fuck yes, I'm gonna text him to put us on the list." Han said rushing to retrieve his phone.
We made our way to my room as Han dug through your closest to find you an outfit. Felix held your face as we sat in my bathroom as he worked on your eyeshadow. He was master at doing a smokey black eye, running the smudgy line across your eyes that made them look seductive yet fierce. He added the lightest bit of shimmer to the eyes so the light would reflect on them in the club. he dabbed your lips in a red color that made your lips kooky vampy and just bitten, a perfect contrast to your features.
"Okay, outfit is picked, thoughts?" Han said holding up the lacey black dress, completely see through but with the right underwear and accessories it could be tasteful. The cups of the dress had a nude lining so wearing no bra be no issues, the sleeves had a dainty ruffle strap similar to the the trim of the hem.
"Hot... Really hot," Felix said glancing at me, to confirm my reaction. It was a bit out of your comfort zone but the desperation to be spiteful towards Minho.
"Exactly what I need." You said letting a shaky sigh out.
After getting dressed and fixing your hair to sit nicely, the three of you continued pre-gaming until Changbin arrived. Once he was finished eating, the night began.
Minho was blowing up Changbins phone, texting him every minute of where you guys were.
ping
where are you guys going first?
ping
how many guys are there?
ping
what is she wearing?
ping
can you see her?
ping
has anyone approached?
ping
don't let her wander off alone
ping
stay by her side
ping
don't let felix drag her to the dance floor
Changbin rolled his in annoyance as the alpha demanded to know where she was at all times.
"Changbinnie!~ take my photo pleassee" His eyes drifted up to see the omega pleading with him to take her photo, he agreed deciding to take it on his phone to send to Minho. You stand posed against the bar top holding the cherry from your drink to your lips in a seductive way as he snapped the photo. He sent it to Minho knowing how it would rile him up.
Minho was laying on his bed staring up at the ceiling irritated by Changbins lack of responses. He was only asking to keep an eye on you, he grew irritated by the idea that you were out in a club with the prying eyes of other Alphas watching with only one thing on his mind. When his phone buzzed he looked down expecting to see Changbin telling him off that you were phone. What he wasn't expecting was to see you wearing that godforsaken black lace dress, holding a cherry to your lips in the most seductive way. He felt the blood rushing to his cock at the sight.
The sight of your fleshy thighs at the bottom of the screen, his mind running through the image of his face buried between them. His cock strained against his boxers at the realization that he could see the black lacey panties through the dress... The dress was so see through he could make out the entire outline of your body beneath the fabric, thanks to the flash of the camera. His eyes dragged up your body in the photo to the waist he often had a had around when the two of you were out in public. Finally zeroing in on your perky breasts that gave you the most glorious visual of them pressed to your chest. He wanted to drive down there, throw you over his shoulder to take you home, ripping that dress to shreds and bury himself inside your body.
He opted to stroking his hard length to the sultry image of you instead, picturing what it'd be like to pin you down beneath him, pumping you so full of his cock that it ruined you for any man that dared to pursue you.
The alcohol buzzed through your system as you danced with Felix and Han, feeling like you had gone to heaven and back. You body felt loose and any thoughts of what you originally came here for, had left your mind. You stopped momentarily whisper yelling to Han, "Going to grab another drink!"
He nodded as he looked back watching you disappear out of the crowd towards the bar, you looked over to where Changbin had been to see a girl was talking to him while feeling out the muscles in his arms. Shaking your head laughing you turned to waive the bartender over. Before the bartender could get to you, an unwelcome hand slid at your waist as you looked to meet the eyes of a man who was likely no more then a few inches taller then you, he reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and smoothing musky that was unsettling.
"Can I buy a pretty thing like you a drink?" He asked as you pushed his hand away, he kept it smooth to your body as he slid it down over your ass with a snarl on your face.
"I don't take drinks from strangers, and I sure as hell don't take unwelcomed advances from them either." You said rolling your eyes and putting some distance.
"My name is Sejun, now we're not strangers." He said with a smirk as he eyed your figure. "At least let me buy your drink and keep you company till it's done."
You shouldn't but you allowed for it anyways. At least you would be getting a free drink out of it. The bartender took your order as Sejun began sizing you up, asking if you were alone, if you came with someone. Praying for any information that would indicate whether you had company.
The bartender dropped the drinks in front of him taking the cash, Sejun grabbed the drinks from the top of the rim sliding mine over to me.
"Well stranger, here's to a good night," He said smirking as he clinked his glass against us yours. As you brought the drink to your lips, you were caught off guard by the hand that immediately covered the drink and cause you to kiss the back of the hand. You irritation had peeked as you looked up at the stranger who had stopped you but you were met with shock when the hand took your drink holding it Sejun.
"How about you take the first taste?" The tall stranger held it to Sejun, the pieces began to click as you saw the all familiar look of someone who had been caught.
"What the fuck man-"
"Drink it. Drink it or I smash this glass right into your fucking head and drag you out back breaking every bone in your hands." Sejun took the drink hesitantly, bringing it to his lips as he drank the whole thing... Fear struck his face as he ran to the bathroom pushing through the crowd as the security clocked him, head directly for him.
This fucker had tried to spike your drink.
You finally saw the face of the stranger who had stopped you from a fate worse then death. The adrenaline pumped through you at the reality of what could have happened as you clutched the counter top of the bar.
"Sorry about that, I saw him stalking people in here and wasn't sure when he was gonna act. Let me get the the bartender to make you a new one."
The handsome stranger said as he pulled a barstool seat out for you to sit in. He was beautiful, dark hair cut into a wolf cut with soft waves that framed his pretty face. Lips full and pink that compliment the sharp eyes on his face.
"You alright? You look a little dazed." He asked as he pushed a strand of hair from your face.
"Yeah I... sorry the adrenaline of that situation might've just sobered me up."
"Sorry I didn't mean to frighten you but I couldn't just let that prick do something unforgivable." The bartender placed the new drink down, the stranger placed a napkin over it before putting it in front of me. The gesture of it didn't go unnoticed as he gave me a sweet look.
"Thank you. For stepping in like that... I don't know many people that would've or who would've have the vigilance to stop it."
"I can't take credit for human decency but I will say it gave me the perfect opportunity to approach you. I'm Hyunjin by the way." He smiled sweetly as he extended his hand out.
Chivalry, how sweet.
"I'm Y/N. Finally I have name to tell my story to my friends about my knight in shining black leather." You said playfully taking a sip of the vodka soda that settled your nerves.
He laughed at your joke, his eyes creasing in the cutest way, a stark contrast to what he looked like seconds ago when he threatened that guy.
The two of you casually talked, while Felix and Han looked around the room noticing it had been a while since you had left. They zeroed in on the close proximity of the stranger who sized you up, smiling ear to ear at everything you said. Noticing the way he dragged your stool closer to him so he could cage your crossed legs in with his, extending his leg to rest on bottom of your stool. His arm on the back of your seat as he leaned in to whisper in your ear as he pushed back your hair running the back of his hand down your exposed neck and shoulder. Changbin had glanced tom the dance floor to see Felix and Han gawking at something, he followed their gaze now settling in on the man who kissed you fervently.
oh fuck... minho is gonna kill him
-
part iv
#skz smut#skz scenarios#skz hard thoughts#skz imagines#skz x you#hyunjin x reader#lee know x reader#lee know smut#lee know imagines#skz x reader#hyunjin smut#lee know x you
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hey queen was wondering if you could do an angsty rafe fic don’t care what the topic is just need my soul to be crushed tbh…
anyway love your work😛😛
lamy's note: thank you bby!! i hope i did it justice! 💗
the evening clung to the air, heavy and suffocating like a storm waiting to break. you stepped into the mansion, your heels clicking against the marble floors, echoing in the quiet stillness of tan lines and rosegold hues. everything about tonight felt off. rafe’s texts had been sporadic, distracted. but you’d convinced yourself it was just his usual mood swings—the volatility that came with his name, his family, his demons.
“just come over,” he’d said earlier, voice low like he was speaking through gritted teeth. you’d asked if everything was okay, but the curt reply and abrupt end to the call told you everything you needed to know. he was pissed about something. probably ward. maybe topper. or… maybe you.
anxiety gnawed at the edge of your thoughts, a sharp-toothed beast sinking into your resolve. still, you went. because it’s rafe. and you’ve never been able to stop yourself when it comes to him. his pull was magnetic, a gravity you couldn’t escape no matter how much it burned.
but as you approached the living room, your heart sank. voices. hers.
sofía.
your pulse quickened, thundering in your ears. you knew sofía had been hanging around more. her smile always too sweet, her touch lingering a second too long when she’d brush rafe’s arm at parties. you’d pretended not to notice. pretended to trust him. because rafe promised you, over and over again, that he was yours.
but now, as you turned the corner, you saw it.
rafe’s back was to you, broad shoulders taut under the strain of whatever this was. sofía stood inches from him, her hand on his chest, and before you could even process what was happening, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.
for a moment, it felt like time stopped. your lungs seized, your vision blurred. the room tilted like you’d just stepped off a spinning carnival ride, nausea and disbelief crashing into you all at once.
“rafe,” you choked out, voice cracking under the weight of betrayal.
his head snapped up, his blue eyes wide with shock. “baby, it’s not—”
“this isn’t what it looks like!” sofía interrupted, a perfect picture of feigned innocence, but you saw the glint in her eye, the slight curl of her lips. she wanted this. she wanted you to see.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you spat, glaring at her. your hands were trembling now, the fight-or-flight adrenaline coursing through you making every nerve hum with raw energy. “are you seriously trying to act like i didn’t just see you?”
sofía shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. her expression was maddeningly calm, like she was toying with a piece of prey. “he didn’t kiss me back,” she said smoothly, like that somehow made it better.
“get the fuck out,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous. the venom in his tone made even sofía hesitate for a split second before she gave a mocking smile and sauntered out of the room, hips swaying like she’d won.
silence hung between you like a blade, sharp and ready to sever whatever fragile thread was left.
“you’re unbelievable,” you finally said, your voice trembling, barely containing the torrent of emotions surging within. “she’s been throwing herself at you for weeks and you just… what? let her?”
“no!” rafe took a step toward you, his face a mess of desperation and guilt, but you recoiled, and it hit him like a slap. “baby, i swear to god, i didn’t—i wouldn’t. she kissed me, i didn’t even—”
“but you didn’t stop her.”
he froze, his jaw tightening as your words landed. “what?”
“you didn’t fucking stop her, rafe.” your voice cracked, the dam breaking as tears spilled over despite your best effort to keep them at bay. “how am i supposed to believe you when you just stood there?”
“baby, please.” his voice broke, raw and pleading. he reached for you again, his hands trembling now, but you stepped back, shaking your head. the distance between you felt insurmountable.
“i trusted you,” you whispered, the words bitter on your tongue. “i fucking trusted you.”
“and you still can,” he insisted, his voice rising with desperation, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you’re it for me. you’re the only one, i swear. she’s nothing, okay? she’s fucking nothing.”
“but i’m supposed to just ignore what i saw?” your voice rose too, the pain clawing its way out of your chest, demanding to be heard. “how many times do i have to wonder if i’m enough for you, rafe? if you even fucking want me?”
“you are,” he said fiercely, the raw intensity of his words cutting through the tension. he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until you were backed against the wall. his hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you’re everything. i need you to believe me.”
you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “i don’t know if i can.”
his hand dropped, his expression crumpling as the weight of your words crushed him. “don’t say that,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “don’t fucking say that.”
“then prove it,” you said, your voice trembling but firm, the storm inside you raging. “prove to me that i’m not wasting my time loving you.”
his eyes searched yours, frantic, his chest rising and falling as he tried to find the words. and for the first time, you saw it. fear. raw, unfiltered fear. because he knew. he knew he was on the verge of losing you, and for once in his life, rafe cameron didn’t have a plan to fix it.
and the worst part? you weren’t sure you wanted him to.
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COFFEE SHOP CONFESSIONS, q. hughes
pairing: quinn hughes x reader
content: sitting for a cup of coffee with quinn takes a turn when unspoken thoughts from years ago finally arise, angsty, quinn might be ooc, allusions to sex but no actual smut
rain patters harshly against the window panes of the little coffee shop quinn sits inside of, calloused fingers wrapped tenderly around a warm ceramic mug. his head is ducked low and his hair is pulled back into a black yankees cap—one that he had to steal back from jack during the devils's short visit to the city.
a memory from years ago comes to the front of his mind as he peers up at you sitting across from him; glimpses of long limbs tangled in his sheets, his hands and fingers pressed into your soft skin, your hair sprawled out beneath you, and the soft sound of gasps and moans.
he doesn’t know how the two of you have got to this point, gone from lovers and best friends to acquaintances who meet once or twice in a blue moon to ‘catch up,’ an excuse quinn makes up every time to see your face one more time before he thinks you’ll inevitably refuse to.
you glance up from your own mug and smile softly at quinn, and he tries to memorize every freckle and faded acne scar on your face, so desperate to recall the way you look in the case you go from acquaintances to strangers. your cheeks are far less rounded now than when you’d first met during orientation at umich, more defined now that you’re older and out of college, and quinn is so devastatingly aware of how sharper and more defined his own face is—how fast time goes by without you by his side even though to him it feels like an eternity.
“so,” you start softly, drawing quinn from his thoughts, “what’s up?” you say it so casually that quinn’s chest aches and he swallows harshly, his throat dry and burning.
“aren’t you sick of this?” he blurts, his green-blue eyes peering at his own reflection in his coffee mug. the distorted version of himself seems to mock him, glaring at him for trying to destroy something that could be good with someone the both of them need.
confusion splits across your face, soft smile turned unsure and brows pinched together—quinn grips his mug a little tighter to keep himself from smoothing the space between them over, a habit he’d developed during your first finals week in college.
“i don’t know what you mean,” you tell him, unsure smile now gone and a small frown pulling at your lips instead. you tilt your chin down toward your mug and stare blankly into the liquid inside, losing yourself in the dark contents. “what’s there to be sick of?”
anger bubbles in quinn’s chest, not at you—never at you—but at the situation he’s put himself in. “this,” he vaguely insists, freeing his mug from his rough fingers and instead taking hold of his cap and hair. “where we act like i’m not in love with you anymore, where we pretend everything is fine and ignore that at one point we knew every detail about one another. aren’t you sick of that?”
tears prickle in your eyes, blurring your vision slightly. quinn’s right; you were so tired of pretending with him, so exhausted from going about your daily life trying to rid yourself of every thought of him only to end up back in vancouver in a desperate act to see him again.
“yeah, i am,” you whimper, breaking quinn’s heart a fraction. “i’m really tired of acting like… like i don’t pretend every other person i’ve ever been with is you.”
your admission sends shock rippling through quinn’s body, stunning him momentarily. the little reflection of himself in his coffee mug ripples away, like a little spirit finished with what it intended to do before separating from the real world.
“then don’t,” he tells you, reaching toward you to grip your soft fingers between his. he runs his thumb in circles and letters over the backs of your knuckles, the action soothing for the both of you. “i want to be yours—if you’ll let me. i won’t mess things up this time; i won’t leave you.”
your fingers weakly grip his, trembling in his hold. your guys’ drinks are long cold and the rain outside has lightened, inviting the sun back through the clouds. light streaks across quinn’s eyes, wide and hopeful, and the growing sunlight highlights the specks of brown scattered through the blue.
you inhale deeply, the sound rattly from the unshed tears and emotions deep in your chest. “what if you do, though,” you breathe. “what if i wake up and one day you’re gone, realized i’m not worth it.” insecurity plagues your mind, ebbing its way into your features, into the way you look at quinn through watery lashes.
quinn’s heart sinks deeper with your words, regret filling his entire body. “i’m sorry for leaving you,” he says, inhaling deeply as the memory of his last morning in michigan with you several years ago comes to mind. he’d left you still asleep in his bed at his parents’ house, the sheets curled tightly to your chest and smelling so heavily like him you hadn’t noticed he’d left. “it was a stupid mistake. i didn’t realize that what i had back then—with you—was the best thing to have ever happened to me. i thought… i thought playing in the nhl was the most important thing to have ever happened to me, but i know now that it was actually meeting you—loving you, being loved by you. i’m sorry.”
tears stream down your cheeks as you sob in the quiet coffee shop, fingers tightly digging into quinn’s. the way he looks at you is so earnest you have no choice but to believe him, believe that if you were to pack up your life back home and haul it to canada that quinn wouldn’t abandon you like an old toy after a week.
“please,” quinn nearly begs as he squeezes your hand even tighter, knuckles whitening against yours. “i need you in every way possible, in every universe ever. we can work things out, here in vancouver—or anywhere. i’d drop anything, everything, for you. i promise—i swear.”
quinn’s throat bobs as he watches you intently, waiting for a response. you nod your head furiously, nose scrunched up as you choke on a sob. you cover your mouth with the back of your free hand, still nodding.
“okay,” you rasp against your hand, tears no longer streaming down your face. “i believe you. we can work this out together. i believe you.”
quinn ducks his head graciously, reaching across to cup your hand with both of his. his palms easily envelop yours, tightly wrapped around it as if you’ll take your words back and walk away from him forever.
“thank you,” he whispers, his lips nearly brushing the table. “thank you.”
all photos from pinterest
#val’s writing 🧃#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes imagine#qh43#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl blurb#hockey x reader
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What comics should I read to get to know tim
Tim has a lot of content, his first appearance is in Batman #436 and when DC saw he was a success they shoved him everywhere
If you want to read the issues chronologically or come back to lesser appearances later that’s up to you and how you read, as long as you got his origin and some Robin issues down you’ll understand what’s going on with him,
it’s a lot of content but don’t let it intimidate you, the fandom wikis and sites like league of comic geeks are great places to look up issues, which characters they contain and when they were released
But as a very quick list, mostly in order, all pre new 52:
backstory:
• “a lonely place of dying” is Tim’s origin and very essential reading
• detective comics 618-621 is Tim’s first case and the death of his mother
• Batman 455-457 is Tim becoming Robin
Robin 1991:
• robin (1991) Tim’s first solo, him being an independent hero and getting his iconic bo staff
• Robin 2 : jokers wild, joker is not pleased at all with Robin being “back”
•Robin 3: cry of the huntress, start of a great history of teaming up with Helena B. and introduces Tim’s first girlfriend Ari
Batman events:
tim is in a lot of Batman events, two personal fav of mine (specifically in terms of Tim) are “Batman prodigal” which has some fun Dick and Tim brotherly content and “Batman contagion” which is an interesting story overall
the ones he’s in usually contain an issue of Robin 1993 so can be read in accordance to that but events prior to Robin 1993 include “prelude to knightfall” (a lessor role but a good set up) and “knightfall” (where Bruce breaks his back) which I think are worth checking out
Ongoing solo:
Robin 1993: lasted until 2009, so there’s a lot of Tim content and arguably his most impotent run, it involves of lot of civilian plots which was a core part of Tim’s character
there’s a lot of issues with a lot of different writers, taking place at the time other comics and events, so you will need to prepare for possibly flicking through other runs to get the context needed if that’s what you want (though it’s usually labeled so you’ll know where to look)
it’s essential Tim reading but as I said there’s a lot of it and some issues are vastly different than others, though consistently the side charters are always pretty decent,
Other books: Tim appears in a lot of holiday specials, duo books, 80 page giants, team up books, secret origins ect. If you’re going to read them I’d mostly just go by date released,
but if you are planning on reading young justice I would suggest reading “worlds finest 3: robin/superboy”, “Robin plus impulse” and most importantly “young justice: the secret” before you do
team books:
young justice 1998: it’s a very fun read I adore all for the members, but for Tim specially: he’s in a leadership position for a while, we get to see the start of his long lasting relationships with Kon,Bart and Cassie and it’s a story that really cements the differences between Tim and Bruce
teen titans 2003: very different from YJ98, everyone’s more “mature” (see: mean and sexualised) but it does have a pretty significant impact on Tim’s character in the 2000’s, has the famous gun Batman and cloning Kon plot
Red Robin solo:
Tim’s most famous solo in fandom circles, it’s very good but the reason it’s so good is because it’s a love letter to his previous comics, this comic requires a lot of context of what was “currently” going on, Tim acts very out of character than he usually does and he has a very good reason to
it’s a great comic, good action and plots and I would highly recommend it but under no circumstances should you start with it, it will screw with your understanding of his character without the context needed
Overall: Tim is a very important bat character and so appears in a lot of Batman issues (as well as a bunch of other bat related titles like detective comics and shadow of the bat), and has important roles in many of those events,
he also cameos in comics of people he’s close to (like Nightwing) as well as seemingly random issues of other comics (for example vampire hunting with superman) which gives a lot of opportunity to see Tim written by different writers in situations he wouldn’t normally be in, which is always interesting
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HII AUTHOR! ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD DAY? I HAVE A QUESTION. How would the SAHSRAU react if you suddenly got bored with HSR and switched to genshin?
Oh boy... The jealousy and the angst are sure burning up...
At first, they don’t notice.
Everything is normal. The Museum of Divinity still stands. Your artworks are still there. Your music still echoes through the stars.
But then… something changes.
The paintings stop appearing. The music stops playing. The museum doors remain shut.
The characters wait for your next command. It never comes.
The Galaxy is silent.
And that’s when they realize.
“There must be an explanation.”
Welt starts running calculations, probability theories, even dimensional travel theories—anything to explain your sudden disappearance.
Himeko sips her coffee, trying to stay calm, but her hands are shaking. “They’ll be back. They always come back.”
(You in fact did not come back.)
March 7th: "Uh, guys? You might wanna look at this..."
She holds up a blurry, pixelated screenshot she managed to capture—a screenshot of Teyvat.
Himeko’s mug shatters. (Like her heart ahem)
Blade stops moving entirely. His entire reason for existing has just left him behind.
Stares blankly at the sky, gripping his sword. If you are no longer here, then what purpose does he have?
Dan Heng acts calm, but he's already in crisis mode. He's scrolling through files, trying to find any clue as to why you left.
When he sees the Teyvat screenshot, his grip tightens on his spear.
Dan Heng: “…We’ve been abandoned.” (yeah no shit, Sherlock-)
Aventurine immediately plays it cool. "Well, well, well. Looks like our dear Creator has found another plaything."
Sunday is not calm.
"BETRAYAL! TREACHERY! ABANDONMENT! I HAVE BEEN CAST ASIDE!"
He dramatically collapses on the museum floor. Aventurine just watches with amusement.
But the second he sees the Teyvat screenshot—
Aventurine: “…Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”
They both hate the idea of you playing another game more than they hate each other.
Kafka smirks, but there’s a sharp edge to it. "So, you’ve moved on, huh?"
Black Swan looks at the fading murals of your art, her expression unreadable. “All things fade… but I never expected our Creator’s gaze to turn elsewhere.”
Deep down, they wonder—were they not enough?
Luocha: "I suppose even gods grow tired of their creations."
Jing Yuan: "Hah… It seems we have been cast aside for another world."
They act philosophical about it, but they’re both lowkey miserable.
Jing Yuan tries to joke about it, but even Yanqing notices something’s off.
Luocha stares at a fading portrait of you, quietly wondering if he will ever see your light again. (Probably not but ahem)
March 7th is the first to start coping.
"It’s fine, it’s fine! Maybe they’re just… on a vacation! Yeah! They’ll be back! Right?"
Sparkle is already scheming. "If our dear Painter has found another world… then perhaps it’s time we follow them there."
(They are actively looking for ways to break into Teyvat.)
Sighs, so the list goes on...
Blade stops fighting entirely. (What's the point if you're not watching?)
Dan Heng avoids everyone. (He refuses to believe it.)
Kafka and Black Swan start theorizing. (Will you return, or is this the end?)
Sunday begins plotting. (If they cannot bring you back, they will find a way to make you remember them.)
March 7th, Sparkle, and Aventurine?
They're looking for a way to invade Genshin. (Yeah, with Silver Wolf's help)
Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months.
They wait.
And wait.
And then—
One day—
A new painting appears.
It's… different.
A familiar signature, but a different style.
A mural of Teyvat.
And on that day, the last hope shatters.
You are gone.
Their Creator has truly moved on.
But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop searching for you. Not ever.
My back hurts... I'm taking away your guys' SAHSRAU privilege. I need someone to write this as a fic or expand it and I'm not gonna write it, that's for you. 🫶
#x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#sunday hsr#blade hsr#dan heng hsr#kafka hsr#black swan hsr#himeko hsr#welt hsr#march hsr#silver wolf hsr#sparkle hsr#sahsrau#self aware au
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Put That Guy in a SituationTM - look something about Landoscar in a 20/32 type situation has me hooked….trying to not let others on to their predicament, maybe it’s a bit embarrassing how it happened 🤔
hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt! i went a smidge away from my usual cutesy fluff for this one - your suggestion of embarrassment really sparked something in my brain, even if i took it in a slightly different direction. i hope you enjoy!!!
(prompt list here)
“Look, we just gotta act natural,” Lando says.
Or, well, Lando-as-Oscar says, because it sounds like Oscar’s voice and it’s Oscar’s mouth that’s moving, but it’s Lando that’s actually saying the words and–
Lando-in-Oscar’s-body huffs. “You’re having a crisis again aren’t you?”
“You know it’s weirder of you to be 100% ok with this.”
“It’s a body swap curse, mate, it’s not rocket science.”
Oscar runs a hand through his hair and cringes at the uncanny feeling of there being someone else’s hair on top of his head. “I understand the concept, Lando, what I’m struggling with is everything else related to it like, I don't know, how the fuck this happened."
“I don’t know. Do you reckon we need to have sex to break the curse?”
“What?” Oscar squawks, “Why would we need to have sex to break the curse?”
Lando flushes. “I dunno. Just felt like the right solution.”
“Based on what?”
Lando mumbles something about seeing it online once and Oscar chooses to ask no more follow-up questions lest Lando tells him he learnt about it from some random porn he watched once. He heaves a sigh.
“Listen, like you said, we should just act normal. This whole thing is,” Oscar pauses to search for the right word, “Strange. And I’d really rather not bring anyone else into it to begin with.”
“Agreed,” Lando says before adding, “Hey, if we’re still like this for the race tomorrow and I win but in your body, does that mean you get the points?” Oscar glares at him and Lando pouts. “It’s a genuine question!” he whines.
Oscar’s about to point out they have bigger things to focus on than the effects of this on a race when Jon sticks his head into the room.
“Debrief in five, guys.”
“Sounds good, mate,” Lando says, in an accent no human being has ever used before.
Jon blinks at him. He turns to look at Oscar. Or, rather, he turns to look at Oscar who he thinks is Lando. Oscar smiles weakly.
“He’s, uh, trying to do an impression of me doing an Australian impression," Oscar lies, hoping it sounds vaguely believable.
“Oi!” Lando says, “My Australian accent’s mint.”
“Yes, Oscar,” Oscar says pointedly, “Your Australian accent would be mint because you are from Australia.”
Lando's eyes light up in realisation and he starts nodding furiously. “Right, yep, what he said, exactly.”
Jon blinks at both of them this time. He sighs.
“If you two are doing roleplay, I don’t want to hear about it.” Lando and Oscar both start spluttering, but Jon keeps on talking over both of them. “Just be on time for debrief.”
With Jon gone, Oscar breathes a sigh of relief. Or he starts to, until Lando pipes up.
“I still reckon us having sex will fix it.”
Oscar reminds himself that if he kills Lando right now, he’s possibly going to do irreparable damage to his own body.
The thought’s still tempting.
“Is there a particular reason you’re so desperate to have sex with yourself?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
Lando clearly wasn't expecting that question because he freezes. Oscar’s always hated how easily he flushes but right now, watching it brutally incriminate Lando, he can’t help but be grateful for it.
“I’m not fucking desperate to have sex with myself.” He doesn't sound like he's lying, but the blush on his face suggests he's not telling the whole truth.
Maybe…
His eyebrows raise. “So you’re only desperate to have sex with me then?”
Lando looks up at Oscar, eyes wide. He swallows.
Got you, Oscar thinks to himself.
#listen. i don't know how we ended up here either#i thought it would be fun for lando to be desperate for them to try to cure it with sex and here we are#thank you for the prompt anon!!!#landoscar#drabbles#asks
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Awakening Flames
pairings/characters: (pining) sam winchester x gn!you
summary: the smoke, the fire... it brings back memories of jess and awakens feelings in sam that you didn't even think he had for you to begin with
warnings: house fire, smoke inhalation, mentions of blood, metions of ptsd
word count: 3,619
A/N: goddamn, that picture of sam breaks my fucking heart
———————
Sam has always been protective, gentle, and admittedly a little clingy when it came to you, but you knew that with such a troubled past, it made sense. And it never created any real problems. Sure, he can be a little overbearing during hunts or a little obsessive when it comes to you being alone with even a whiff of danger in the air, but you just know it’s because he cares about you. And you also know that deep down, you can be the same way.
Although, in all of your years of hunting together you have never seen him panic like he had tonight. You have absolutely no clue what wire snapped in Sam’s mind that made him act like this. The two of you have been on plenty of hunts, fought dozens of different creatures and even had your fair share of close calls. It didn’t make sense why he was freaking out now.
It was routine, classic even. For the past week or so, you and Sam had been tracking a couple of demons wreaking havoc on towns along a stretch of highway in southern Illinois and you had finally cornered them hiding out in an abandoned apartment complex.
It was a tough fight at first but eventually the demons dropped like flies and it was left to one last poor possessed woman. You were close, so you tackled her, wrestling her to the floor and swinging your angel blade wildly in an attempt to slice any exposed skin.
But once Sam made it back into the living room with you and the last demon, it had already been done.
The demon had flipped you over, straddling you. She knocked the blade out of your hand and dashed out of the open doorway closer to the two of you, knocking over a bottle of whiskey in the process. The crash of the bottle mixed with an even sharper shatter of glass in the other room due to the demon's quick escape. The bottle, of course, landed right next to the lit fireplace and flames quickly crawled past the iron platter that the logs rested on. It spat out harsh heat that quickly climbed the rotted curtains next to the fireplace.
It all happened so fast, and now half of the room was swallowed in red and orange flames by the time you can get to your feet. The smoke clouds the room and you can hear Sam calling for you. You spin to find him on the other side of the room at the other doorway that opens into the hallway that leads out of the apartment. Outside. Where you need to be right the fuck now.
You cough and crouch down to try and escape some of the smoke. Sam calls your name again, “stay low! Hold on, I-I’ll get to you, just-,” he flicks back and forth, looking for anything to help him.
“Sam, go! I’ll find my way out,” you cough, turning to find out where the demon escaped from.
“No! No, don’t-,” Sam begs, his voice cracking in the process. You turn back to look at him and can see beautiful drips of flames falling up towards the ceiling, illuminating his face. He looks terrified. Because, what you don’t know, is what he sees is your face exactly like you see his. Exactly like Jess.
All you knew about Jess was that she was Sam’s college girlfriend who died at the hands of Azazel.
The smoke fills Sam’s nostrils and the heat pushes him mentally back onto the plush cushion of his once shared bed. His mind rings with ‘please’s’ and ‘no, not again’s’. He’s completely panicked and irrational and he doesn’t know how to save you.
He never knows how to save them.
Jess.
Madison.
You.
And you don’t know what’s even going on in his mind enough to level with him, because from here he still just looks rabid with fear.
“Sam, you have to trust me,” you cough, trying to ignore the burn in your lungs. You take a few steps back to see that your only doorway leads to a kitchen with a broken window and, if you’re lucky enough, a fire escape. “Go downstairs and around back, I’ll have to jump,” another series of nasty coughs falling past your lips seems to snap him out of his funk just enough to listen.
“I’ll be there,” he nods, his feet moving before his mind catches up with him and he has to tear away his eyes from yours.
Now you can just focus on getting out of here. The smoke has started to make you dizzy but you promised Sam. The kitchen was a mossy mess, a little slippery but enough organic matter to really kick this fire up a notch. You have to hurry. You make it to the window, ignoring the left over shards of glass stuck in the pane because the fire is only getting hungrier.
It’s a two story drop below but with no ladder or help to get down because apparently, luck is rarely on your side. Sam rounds the corner as soon as you fully access your severely fucked situation. He knows it too.
But you promised.
You have to jump, it’s all that’s left. Sam stands right under the window, his arms raised and his eyes still irrational, “I’ll catch you,” he nods, encouraging you to evacuate. The fire has claimed the first half of the kitchen already and your silhouette is lit up like a halo by the orange flames. Sam’s heart is racing in his chest, making each second feel like an eternity.
“Sam-,” you start to argue but he barks back.
“No! Just jump, now!” He demands, using a voice he’s never used on you before and honestly it makes your stomach flip at the authority. You let your brain just turn off so you can listen to his instructions thoughtlessly. You climb over the pane, holding onto the splintery wood and trying to avoid any loose shards of glass.
“Fuck,” you whisper after positioning yourself just right. You let go, your organs delayed with your body causing the worst roller coaster feeling to bubble about your stomach. You land into Sam, tumbling you both to the soft grass beneath you with a forced grunt. His hands quickly wrap around your form the second you hit into his chest and he makes a point to take the full impact of the fall. He swallows the grunt that threatens to erupt into a low whine of pain.
You quickly roll off over top of him to allow him to take full breaths because you heard the air get knocked out of him but his grip doesn’t leave your waist even with half of your body off of him. You still manage to sit up, having a coughing fit trying to catch your lungs up with your racing heart.
Sam sits up, a bit dazed but the adrenaline of almost losing you like that powered him like a sedan engine full of diesel, it was enough to damage him as he forced himself to keep pushing his limits.
“Are you okay?” His hands reach out, cupping your face to make you look at him. You try to resist the grip so that you don’t cough in his face but he doesn’t seem to care about that. As you now get a good look at his face you see a glossy well of tears about to spill from his eyes and your heart melts with aching empathy.
“I-I’m fine,” your voice is rough and aching, but you force out the words in hopes to bring him down just a bit. He looks you over, pushing hair out of your face and checking any exposed skin for burn marks.
“Your hands,” he breathes out, holding your palms up so he can inspect them closer. As you look down at them, only then does the stinging pain register. When you lept from the window, apparently you weren’t as careful with the pane as you thought. Both palms are scratched up and bleeding, speckled with a few loose pieces of glass or wood. He doesn’t have the supplies on him now to help, just now remembering the duffle he brought along for the hunt is gone, swallowed by the burning lake inside.
He looks at the window that you jumped out of and then back down at you, pushing out a shaken breath, “okay, I need to get you out of here, back to the motel and I can get you cleaned up.” He nods, his gaze fixed on your palms again. Before you have time to respond, he’s standing and pulling you up with him, keeping a firm hold on your waist as he leads you back to the Impala. He helps you get settled in the passenger seat and hurries to the other side, keeping an eye out for any trouble.
“Sam,” you start as he climbs into the driver's side and ignites the engine.
“Are you sure you didn’t get burnt? That was a bad fall. Your clothes are singed, you need fresh clothes,” he rattles off, speeding back into the direction of the motel.
“Sam!” You try again, louder this time and it causes a fresh line of sickening coughs. You hunch over in your lap, holding your chest and trying to settle your breathing but the thick smoke that invaded your nose has stuck along your throat and trickled into your lungs. It burns.
“Hey, hey-, you with me?” He asks, torn between pulling over or continuing his race to get you as far away from the growing cloud of smoke. You only continue coughing in response and he jerks the car to the side of the road so that he can give you his full attention. He just can’t help himself.
He puts the car in park and jumps out, rounding the vehicle to open your own door so you can get some fresh air that he hopes to god will help. The strangled coughs interrupted by the weak wheezing of each breath you took constricted his chest, almost replicating a singe in his own lungs. Almost.
“Okay, just let it out, focus on your breathing, you’ll be okay,” he helps you turn your body so your legs are out of the Impala and he pushes back some more of your hair. After a few more deep coughs that rattle your throat, you're able to take fuller breaths that are noticeably satisfying now. “Better?” He asks, his hand on your thigh, closer than he would usually get but you can’t seem to mind.
You just nod, not wanting to risk speaking again and letting it be followed by a string of more nasty coughs that edge Sam closer and closer to an early grave. You still can’t put together why he got so freaked.
“Good, now I really want to get you back to the motel so I can clean up those hands,” he looks back down at your blood-slick palms. You just nod again.
After getting back on the road, and going just 10 over the speed limit this time, Sam called in the fire to local authorities and slid his phone back in his pocket. By now, it wasn’t too far from the motel and you could already see the neon lights.
Sam slows down to make a safe, but still a bit jerky, turn into the motel parking lot and puts her in park. You’d reckon Dean would be at Sam’s throat for how he’s treating his baby. Or maybe Dean would be better than you and actually put two and two together as to why he’s so damn jumpy.
Sam ushers you towards the room you booked a few hours ago and leads you to the bed, resting you gently on the edge.
“I’ll be right back,” Sam’s eyes take in any detail of your face that he can in a desperate attempt to settle his nerves a bit, but he just cannot seem to calm down. With a weighted breath, he stands and goes back out to the Impala to get the necessities for post-hunt clean up.
You just try to catch up with the past 20 minutes of your life.
But before you can, Sam is already pulling up a chair to sit across from you as he gently takes one of your hands to examine again.
“None of the cuts are too deep, won’t even need stitches,” a quick smile perks his lips as he lets out a puff of air that you're convinced still contained some smoke from that fire from how tense he’s been. You watch him as his pinched brows frame such worry struck eyes. You can’t emphasize enough just how weird this is. “Should probably run them under water,” he looks up at you before helping you over to the bathroom sink to do so.
You don’t need more help walking but, Jesus, you don’t have the heart to push him away.
He makes extra sure that the water is at an okay temperature before introducing it to your palms. And you still hiss when the water meets them, no matter it being too cool or too hot, it still stung like a bitch and made you instinctively lean away from the faucet. Sam brings over a hand towel to wet before using it to wash away any blood from the uninjured surfaces of your hands, cleaning up all that he can so as to reduce your discomfort.
It’s quiet once he gets to work on removing the splinters and shards of glass, his hands steady as ever and his focus honed in on your palms. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He also gave you a glass of water to help with the dry burn in your throat, even making sure there was a straw so you wouldn’t have to pick up the glass. So thoughtful. You waited for your breathing to be easy enough for you to trust your speech before finally asking the question that itched the tip of your tongue.
“Sam?” You start, your voice still raspy and it aches as it rubs out of your vocal chords, but you push through. His head pops up and looks over your features to try and gauge what was wrong now because why else would you try to talk? His mind is still in panic-mode and he subconsciously readies solutions for worst case scenarios. “What happened back there?” You follow up before he can rush out another prod to how you’re doing or if something’s wrong.
His jaw clenches and he swallows whatever invisible mouthful he had and his eyes gloss over- not with tears this time but a momentary lack of focus. Like he’s thinking back to something. He looks back down at the hand which still has some shards in it but the tweezers don’t move. You would almost expect the gears turning in his head were about to supply you a fresh round of smoke to choke on, but then he speaks.
“I’m sorry.”
Okay, that you weren’t expecting. Sure, maybe it felt like he was blowing it a tiny bit out of proportion, but it was still a life or death scenario, and his reaction was obviously triggered by something that he shouldn’t feel ashamed of. Your first thought was maybe it reminded him of his time in Hell. With Lucifer. The thought makes a tickle of bile rise up in your throat that starts to sting the already sore tissue.
“I just freaked.”
Under any other circumstance you would have laughed at his understatement. But the pain in his still unfocused, far away look stops the urge before you realize it was there in the first place.
“The fire?” It was the only thing you could think of, the only thing that was different from a usual hunt. He nods, eyes still unfocused. It really gave you nothing to go off of. You already figured it was the fire and you just wanted to know why.
He’s working his jaw, mulling over how exactly he wants to word this- if he even wants you to hear it in the first place. His shoulders slump and he sets aside the tweezers, running a hand down his face. The hand almost works like a magic trick- revealing the caught up toll that this night has taken on his mental state with one swift swipe.
“Jess,” he offers the name, just testing if his voice can keep from breaking. It doesn’t, but he keeps going anyway because he knows that he scared you and it makes him feel sick. Almost as sick as seeing fire frame your body like a mane. Almost as sick as the images of Jess that assaulted his closed lids when he tried to steady himself. Almost, but not quite, so he decides not to apologize again. “Dean ever tell you how our mom died?” Sam asks, not looking up to face you just yet.
Fuck. Of course.
“Oh,” you breathe out, remembering Dean mentioning that a demon set their childhood home ablaze, taking their mothers life with the fall.
“Jess died the same way. Azazel,” Sam continues, choosing his words carefully and selecting them out with proper timing so he doesn’t break too soon. “He pinned her to the ceiling-.”
What?
“And burned her alive above me.”
The fuck?
“Just like he did to our mom.”
Okay, those details were left out of Dean’s story altogether but you can’t really blame him for skipping them.
You’re speechless, unable to remember any words that you spent the last 30 some-odd years using. Of course he freaked out.
“I’m so sorry, Sam,” and you are. Truly. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose a partner like that. You’ve lost people but never like that. Never so… just out of your reach.
“I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you like that too.”
That makes sense.
“I lost Jess, Madison, and I just couldn’t-,” he voice breaks and his head dips down as the words die just before his lips.
Wait, what? You really want this man to stop throwing curve balls and let you catch up to literally anything. But his words get you thinking. He was triggered by the flames, reminded of Jess’ death, but not just that, it was a fear of losing you. Comparing you to Jess and whoever this Madison was. What was he implying?
He sniffled before bringing his head back up, not looking at you just yet but you can tell that he’s trying to work up the nerve again. He hasn’t even realized his slip up, his choice of words that reveal deeper feelings that are buried under the fear that comes with this life and the effects it has on those you allow yourself to love.
“I just-, I thought I was going to lose you like I lost them and I freaked and I didn’t mean to scare you,” he finally gets his eyes back up at yours, reddened and wet. He doesn’t apologize again like you thought he would and you’re thankful that he doesn’t feel ashamed enough to do it a second time.
“I get it,” you assure, holding his gaze with the swirling subconscious thought of his choice of wording just a few paces ago. Thoughts that get slammed to the front line of your thinking as his eyes dart down to your lips- not scanning for signs of discomfort, but just to your lips.
“You didn’t scare me,” you shake your head, watching him as he watches you. Locked in this tunnel vision hooked between the two of you, growing shorter and shorter without either of you realizing it.
“I just need you to be okay.” He whimpers the words like a prayer. Like you’re the only being who can grant him his wish if he’s needy enough. If he begs enough.
“I’m okay, Sam,” you only need to whisper now, the heat of your words hitting his lips that are so close you could practically taste him. He swallows, holding just your eyes now, his own not dipping down to your lips or your hair or your neck. Even if the last one would rile you up enough to make a move.
“Okay,” he whispers back, still a raw echo of words that tug on your heart. You want to ask him why- why he chose that specific wording, why he panicked in such a way that exposed himself, why the tension between you couldn’t back hacked with a fucking butcher knife. But you don’t. You don’t say a word as he goes back to plucking the foreign objects from your palm. As much as you want to be reckless and spontaneous and just take what you want to be yours- you don’t.
You don’t because the look that stains his face is one of utter exhaustion- mental and physical. This night has wrecked him more than you know him to outwardly admit to anytime soon.
You don’t because this isn’t how he would want it, and you fear he will take it as an act of thankfulness or obligation on your part.
You don’t because the man in front of you deserves better. He deserves the memory of the two of you to not be a tainted bond of his PTSD but of a memorable connection built from the years of friendship and love he’s already given you.
He deserves your best, and you’re prepared to offer him just that when he’s ready.
———————
thank you so much for reading!! <3
>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here
#supernatural#sam winchester#fanfiction#fandom#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester angst#supernatural angst#sam winchester one shot#sam winchester hurt/comfort#spn fanfic#spnfandom#supernatural hurt/comfort
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There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair
Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader
Chapter 18 | Nightly Visitors
You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!
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Feixiao invited herself into your room as you closed the door behind her. Seeing such a person was still unbelievable to you. Heck, you thought you would never meet the emperor either, and yet here you are. Feixiao then turned to you after she inspected your room, her eyes were shining as knelt before you causing you to jump.
“Princess.”
“Y- yes?”
She tilted her head up at you, “I know it is wrong of me to ask such things of you, but I need your help,” she raised her hand to you making you hesitate before gently laying your palm into her own to which she gently took a hold of, “the Emperor is treading down a dangerous path and I wish to stop him before he burns down the whole world in his wake.”
“I- I don’t know how to help you though…”
Feixiao’s gaze landed on the key necklace around your neck, and you got the picture quickly, “the other key,” you managed to say.
Feixiao nodded while still holding your hand, “will you help me get it?”
You closed your eyes and thought for a moment, getting home was proving harder than you thought, “alright…, I’ll help.”
But, you thought to yourself, I can’t let them revive Sunday with those keys. There must be another use for the keys which is why everyone wants them so bad.
You jumped a little when you felt her lips press against your knuckles before she stood up, her grin almost infectious, “thank you, princess, and I promise, once this is all over I’ll get you home!”
She had bid you goodnight then, leaving your room in a hurry as you were once again left to your thoughts.
“Too much as happened today,” you mumbled as you started to finally feel tired, but the call to your bed was short lived as there was yet another knock on your door causing you to groan outwardly. You were quite popular tonight it seems.
“What is it-,” you voice got cut off when you opened the door, “Blade?”
“The Emperor wishes to speak with you.”
“At this hour? And besides, I thought I told you to get lost,” you peeked outside the door in hopes of seeing Gepard, but he has already retired for the night.
Blade raised his hand causing you to flinch, but he merely held the door open to keep you from slamming it shut.
“I wasn’t… going to hurt you.”
You opened your eyes and looked at him, “r- right, sorry…”
“If it is any consolation, the emperor isn’t summoning you because you’re in trouble.”
“Then why? Is it about earlier?”
Blade said nothing as he stepped aside causing you to sigh and go back into your room to grab your blanket and wrap it around yourself so you wouldn’t be prancing around in just a nightgown.
“And your shoes?”
“I’ll be fine,” you said as you briefly realized you didn’t own a pair of fluffy slippers. Though, you yelped loudly when you felt yourself get lifted, your feet were no longer touching the cold marble floor as Blade held you close to his chest.
“Blade-!”
“Just let me hold you like this until we get to the Emperor.”
You quieted as you stared at his face, his expression looked… sad.
“Blade… what’s wrong?”
Truthfully you weren’t mad at Blade. Yes, he did sort of out you in one of your other lives, but it wasn’t like he was your enemy, and Sunday’s plans for him…
He did not answer you as he escorted you to Jing Yuan’s bedroom, and to hopefully console Blade in some way you decided to wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head against his chest as he carried you. You do not know what has happened with him in the past hours from when you last saw him, but you hoped it didn’t have anything to do with Sunday.
Maybe he knows what is to be done with him.
“We’re here.”
You lifted your head as you were once again brought to Jing Yuan’s door.
Blade had gently set you down, your feet instantly feeling the cold floor as you steadied yourself and raised your hand to knock on his door. You looked to Blade when you heard a faint come in from deep within the room, and Blade merely shook his head, “I am to stay here.”
You turned back towards the door and grabbed onto the handle and pushed it open.
“Close the door behind you,” Jing Yuan said to which you obeyed and when you looked back you saw that Blade was no longer looking at you as you closed the door. A small part of you wished that this was still your first life where Blade had promised to protect you.
“You were here earlier weren’t you? When that maid greeted you at the door?”
When you finally brought yourself to look at Jing Yuan you found it odd how he wasn’t dressed in his usual armor. Instead he was wearing a simple dress shirt and black slacks. It was a nice change.
“Y- yes, it was. I am deeply sorry about that by the way. If I had known that you and the maids were … that close, then I swear I wouldn’t have intervened like that.”
Jing Yuan chuckled softly, “then why is it that I sense so much anger from you?”
He was sitting at a table situated in his room and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him or at how relaxed he was which was when you finally noticed it. Your nose crinkled when the strong stench of blood hit you in full force.
“W- what- what is that?”
You looked around briefly before your eyes landed to the doorway leading to his bedroom, on the floor in there you could see a large pool of blood slowly forming. Jing Yuan followed your gaze, “ah yes, that. I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
You didn’t listen as you took shaky steps towards it, and when you got to where he was seated he grabbed your wrist, but you had a clear view now. There was the maid, dead on the floor. Blood splatters painted the room like some horror story you would hear in the dead of the night to scare children from sneaking out of the house.
“Why-“
Jing Yuan harshly tugged on you causing you to stumble to the side and fall right into his lap.
“When you became my beloved fiancé I had every intention of stopping my little trysts with the maids. However, there were a few who were determined to keep their places as common whores.”
You shook within his hold, your fear becoming quite amusing to him.
“You should be happy, aren’t I proving myself to be loyal? The moment I took your hand, I made it clear to my servants that I only wanted to be devoted to you, but… give them a little attention and suddenly they think they have me wrapped around their finger…”
He made you look away from the maid, “do you believe me?”
You felt if you said yes or no then that would be a boring answer, and you knew how he felt about boring people. If only I was that princess from his past, then he wouldn’t be treating me this way, you thought.
“Then why was she in your room if you made it clear you weren’t doing that anymore?”
Jing Yuan let go of your arm as he sat back in his chair, your legs now straddling him as they hung off each side of him. Your blanket was long forgotten on the floor by this point and your hands, oh you didn’t know what to do with them, so you settled with resting them on his hard muscled chest.
“She wanted to hurt you because she knew that you would be coming to me or, at least, that I would be coming to get you.”
He moved his hands to rest on your hips, and you briefly wondered where his key was.
“And you promise that nothing happened you just- just,” you struggled to say it but managed somehow, “killed her?”
“I promise you my life.”
Despite being around a dead body, you had to admit that you were at least no longer mad about the whole ordeal, though, a part of you still felt bad. The maid lost her life after all.
“So… where are you planning to sleep now?”
His eyes glinted in the lamp light making you feel uneasy about the answer he was about to give.
“Your room, of course.”
@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly
#There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair#hsr#honkai star rail#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#jing yuan x y/n#emperor jing yuan x reader#emperor jing yuan x princess reader#emperor jing yuan
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Snowflakes | idol!Jeonghan x Reader | fluff
It all started as a spontaneous trip. Y/N had been a little surprised when Jiwoo, her best friend, invited her along for a ski weekend, but what really caught her off guard was the twist: Jiwoo’s boyfriend, Seungcheol, had insisted that Jeonghan come along too.
“Jeonghan?” Y/N raised an eyebrow when Jiwoo mentioned the name. “Why him?”
“Well,” Jiwoo said with a teasing grin, “you know how the fans can be. Seungcheol thought it would look less suspicious if Jeonghan came along. Plus, we need to balance it out, so I figured I’d ask you to join!”
Y/N laughed softly, appreciating Jiwoo’s thoughtfulness. “Sounds like a setup for a reality show or something.”
Despite the oddity of it all, Y/N agreed. And soon enough, they were all packed and on their way to a cozy cabin in the mountains, surrounded by the winter wonderland of snow-covered trees and icy peaks.
The first day of skiing was pure chaos everyone falling, laughing, and trying to get their bearings on the slopes. By the evening, they were all back at the cabin, warming up by the fire. A big pot of hot chocolate was waiting, and the group decided to pass the time with a friendly game of Uno.
“I’m warning you guys now,” Jeonghan said, winking, “I’m a professional Uno player. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll catch you.”
Y/N smirked from across the table. “You’re the one who should be careful, Jeonghan. I know all the tricks.”
“Ah, is that so?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “We’ll see about that.”————————————————————————————-The atmosphere was light, everyone was deeply involved in the game, and the laughs kept coming. But Y/N, ever the observant one, started to notice something off about Jeonghan.
She watched as he casually slipped cards between his legs, thinking no one would notice. But Y/N wasn’t that easy to fool.
“Stop! You’re sitting on your cards! Stand up!” she suddenly shouted, her eyes locking onto Jeonghan’s suspicious behavior as she snatched the remaining cards from the table.
He blinked in confusion. “What? Me?” he asked, acting innocent, but it was too late. Y/N had caught him red-handed.
“Stand up, Jeonghan!” she repeated, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, and everyone stared at him in anticipation.
He slowly got up, and as he did, two cards fell out of his ass. With a loud plop, they hit the floor, and the room erupted in laughter.
“Oh my god, really?” Jiwoo cried out, clutching her stomach as the group burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
Jeonghan stood there, utterly stunned, while Y/N was bent over, practically in tears from laughing so hard. “Seriously? You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Y/N gasped between giggles.
“I… I don’t know what happened!” Jeonghan stammered, his face turning bright red as the group continued to laugh at his expense.
It was a moment they would never forget, and as they calmed down, everyone couldn’t help but tease him for the rest of the night.————————————————————————————-After their game, the group settled in for the night. But there was a problem: the cabin only had two rooms, and since Y/N and Jeonghan were the last ones to claim the second room, they were forced to share it.
“We’ll just sleep on opposite sides of the bed,” Y/N said with a shrug. The bed was large enough for the both of them to keep some space.
However, the problem was the cold. The old cabin didn’t have central heating, and the night air was bitterly cold. Y/N pulled the blanket closer around herself but still found herself shivering under the weight of the chill.
Jeonghan lay still in the darkness, hearing the soft clattering of Y/N’s teeth. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should say something. After all, they weren’t close like that… yet.
“You cold?” Jeonghan finally asked, breaking the silence.
Y/N let out a soft, embarrassed sigh. “Yeah, a little. It’s freezing in here…”
Jeonghan turned his head slightly, his voice soft. “Well… I guess there’s no harm in sharing some warmth. Come here.”
Y/N blinked at him in surprise, but without much thought, she scooted closer to him. The warmth from his body was a welcome relief, and she felt her shivering slow.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
Jeonghan, noticing the awkwardness in the air, decided to break the tension by talking. “I’m not great at keeping people warm, but I can at least tell some stories to distract you.”
Y/N chuckled. “I’ll take stories over nothing.”
Jeonghan smirked, his voice turning light-hearted. “Okay, well, I have plenty of stories from the tour. Like the time DK tried to cook for everyone and nearly set the kitchen on fire…”
Y/N laughed, imagining the chaos. “I can totally picture that.”
And so, the conversation flowed, from funny tour mishaps to embarrassing moments. But eventually, Jeonghan couldn’t help but ask, “So… how did you know I was cheating at Uno?”
Y/N grinned. “Let’s just say, I’ve used the same trick before. You weren’t as slick as you thought.”
Jeonghan snorted in disbelief. “So, you’re a cheater too, huh?”
Y/N shrugged playfully. “Only when necessary. You should’ve seen me beat Jiwoo at Monopoly once.”
“That’s my girl,” Jeonghan said, laughing softly. The atmosphere had shifted, and it no longer felt awkward. They were just two friends in the middle of a snowy mountain, sharing warmth and laughter.
Suddenly, without thinking, Jeonghan blurted out, “You have a really cute laugh.”
Y/N froze for a second, her heart doing an unexpected little flip. “Um, thanks,” she said, her voice a little quieter. She turned her face away, not sure if it was the heat from being close to him or the compliment that was making her blush.
There was a long, comfortable silence after that, and soon they both fell asleep, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.————————————————————————————-The next morning, they all piled into the car to head back, exhausted from the late-night talks and the skiing. Y/N, still tired, leaned against Jeonghan’s shoulder as the car bumped along the mountain roads. Within minutes, she was asleep.
Jeonghan, too, had his eyes drifting shut. Slowly, he leaned his head onto hers, too tired to care that it might seem strange.
Seungcheol, who was driving, glanced at the rearview mirror and caught sight of the two of them. A small smile tugged at his lips as he nudged Jiwoo, who was sitting beside him.
“Looks like our friends are getting pretty cozy,” he whispered, his voice amused.
Jiwoo peered at the backseat and smirked. “They definitely are. Maybe we’ll go on double dates soon?”
Seungcheol chuckled, nodding. “That’d be nice. But for now, let’s just let them have their moment.”
Jiwoo secretly took a picture of the sleeping pair, capturing the peaceful scene. It was a quiet, content moment one that neither Y/N nor Jeonghan had expected but would both remember forever.
As the car drove through the snowy mountains, the two friends slept soundly, completely unaware of the subtle change between them. Perhaps it was just the beginning of something more.
————————————————————————————-
#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#svt fanfic#svt x reader#svt x y/n#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seventeen fanfic#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#svt jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan#jeonghan seventeen#yoon jeonghan#idol x reader#scoups
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request idea? thinking about how Drew would drop everything for his girl ❤️🔥 like if she showed up at his house crying because she needs him (something with her parents or something? maybe they forgot something important to her)
and Drew is with his roommates or friends (who love the reader) but as soon as he sees his girl sad, he has a soft spot for her and for taking care of her 🫶🏼
⋆.˚ Warnings: none, pure fluff (still, read at own caution
ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: enjoy! sry i haven't replied for so long, i was spending cny w/my family.
word count: 2.2k
──── 𝜗𝜚 ─────
The sound of the basketball game is practically vibrating through the walls—close to the end, with the score tied and everyone on edge.
Drew’s lounging on the couch, leaning back, eyes glued to the screen.
The room is full of his friends, all hyped up, throwing out their commentary and joking around. It’s guys’ night, and it’s a vibe they’re all soaking in.
Then the doorbell rings for the second time tonight, and Drew’s eyes flicker to the door.
"Did we order pizza? Again?" Drew asks.
“Dunno, man, check,” his friend says, not looking up from the game, clearly too invested.
Drew sighs, a little annoyed at the interruption, but his feet move automatically toward the door.
When Drew opens the door, he doesn’t see pizza.
He sees you.
His expression shifts instantly—his confusion giving way to something deeper.
Drew notices the smudge of mascara under your eyes first—the dark lines trailing down your cheeks. The rest of your makeup isn’t much better: foundation starting to fade where the tears have blurred it, the eyeliner long gone from where it used to frame your eyes.
His heart skips a beat. The noise from the game and his friends’ laughter suddenly feel miles away, as if the room has gone quiet in an instant.
Then, through your teary eyes and blushed cheeks, you give him a smile. It’s weak, almost forced, but you try. You shrug your shoulders, like you're attempting to downplay whatever’s hurting you.
“Hey, Joseph,” you say, your voice cracking just enough that Drew hears it. Your smile fades, and the act you’re trying to put on crumbles just a little.
Drew’s heart sinks. He knows you too well. The moment you said his name like that—broken and vulnerable—he realizes just how much you’re holding back.
Without a word, Drew steps closer.
The easy-going grin he had on earlier is gone. His brows furrowed with concern as he reaches for you, hands cupping your cheeks.
He holds you gently, but firmly—like he's grounding you, keeping you steady.
His gaze softens, and he watches, helpless for a second, as the first tear escapes and trails down your cheek. His heart aches seeing you like this.
His eyes never leave yours, and there’s an unspoken promise in them—I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.
When you speak again, the apology slips out almost before you can stop it. “I’m sorry…” you start, feeling bad for interrupting his night with his friends.
“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” He says, as if he’s trying to erase that sense of guilt before it can settle in.
He gives you a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, “don’t ever apologize for needing me.”
He takes a moment, watching your eyes carefully, making sure you understand that he means it. There’s no disappointment in his gaze—only warmth, care, and an overwhelming need to protect you from whatever’s hurting.
Your eyes flicker away, sparkling with unshed tears as you struggle to catch your breath, trying to muffle the cries threatening to break free.
“It’s just- it’s just my parents-“
Your words falter as his friends cheer loudly in the background, their excitement rising with each point scored in the game.
Drew notices immediately—your discomfort, the way you're struggling to open up in this moment—and it hits him: you’re still standing out in the hallway, exposed to everything.
“Let’s, let’s get inside,” he murmurs. He doesn’t need to say more than that—his hands move to your shoulders, guiding you toward his room, tell you everything.
His friends, too absorbed in the game, don’t notice the subtle shift in the air. They’re still yelling at the screen, completely oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend has showed up crying.
As he leads you down the hall, you finally feel the air change—calmer, quieter.
The second the door of Drew’s room closes behind you, the outside world fades.
Unknowingly, you’ve sat down at the edge of his bed, the soft mattress dipping under your weight.
Drew quietly moves around his room, as he finds a box of tissues on his dresser. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though—watching the way you sit, the way your shoulders shake with each breath, how your chest rises and falls, unevenly.
Once he hands it to you, Drew settles beside you. His arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer but not forcing you.
He listens carefully to the soft hiccups that escape from you, tiny gasps caught in the air.
He just continues to rub gentle circles on your back, his touch light and comforting.
Finally, Drew speaks, but it is barely above a whisper, “what’s wrong?”
You grab a tissue, dabbing your cheeks where the mascara has ran down.
When you see the dark spots on the tissue, your chest tightens. The tears come faster now, and you let out a shaky breath between sobs, “now my makeup’s ruined!”
Drew can’t help but chuckle lightly at your reaction, the sound soft and gentle. His hand, still resting around your shoulders, takes the tissue from your trembling fingers.
With a small, reassuring smile, he dabs at your cheeks, wiping away the smudged makeup with care.
“Don’t, don’t worry about that,” he says quietly.
The tenderness in his words feels like a balm to your frayed nerves, and for a moment, it’s the only thing grounding you.
As you look up at him, your breath catching in your throat, you notice how close he is.
His face is inches from yours, and his eyes hold nothing but softness, nothing but a promise of comfort. His hand lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I…i had dinner with my parents,” you start.
“I know,” he murmurs softly, his gaze never leaving yours. He'd seen the date marked on his calendar weeks ago, the reminder of your private dinner with your parents, and he had known it might be a tough night for you.
It was a dinner just for you and them—an attempt to reconnect, to have a moment where things might feel normal again. But Drew knew, from the way you’d talked about it in passing, that it wasn’t going to be easy.
“They still think, I made a huge mistake,” your voice cracks once again, and you swallow hard, as if trying to force the pain down, but it’s no use. It bubbles up too quickly.
Drew knows exactly what you mean. He remembers you telling him about dropping out in the middle of your final year. How it had been a decision made for yourself, even if your parents couldn’t understand it.
Drew watches you quietly for a moment, then speaks softly, “You did what was right for you. If they don’t get it, that’s on them, not you. Who cares what they think?”
He gives you a small, reassuring smile, before adding on, “you should see yourself through my eyes. You’re beautiful, smart, and more than enough as you are. You don't need a...certificate to prove that.”
His words settle over you, and for a moment, you feel your heart soften at the quiet sincerity in his voice. But you quickly look away, feeling a bit shy under his gaze.
“Yeah, well…” you mutter, “we got into this huge fight, and I just stormed out- and look where I am. Ruining your - your guys’ night.”
“No, no,” Drew immediately interrupts, “you’re not ruining anything.”
Then, unexpectedly, without missing a beat, Drew throws the tissue in his hand toward the trash can in the far corner, and you watch, distracted by the sudden movement.
You can’t help but let out a small chuckle when he makes a perfect shot, the tissue landing neatly inside with a satisfying swish.
Drew turns toward you, his smile both confused and amused, clearly unsure of what exactly made you laugh but happy to see you smile. “What?” he asks, his voice still holding that easy charm.
You stare at him for a moment, your eyes catching on his lips, the way they curve just slightly in that grin, and for a fleeting second, the urge to kiss him overwhelms you.
It’s like everything else in the room fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this small, quiet moment.
Your breath catches in your chest, and before you can even think, the space between you seems to vanish.
Without a word, you lean in, your eyes fluttering shut, letting instinct take over. His hand gently cups your cheek, warm against your skin, as he tilts your head just slightly.
And then, you feel it—his lips against yours, and everything feels…right.
The kiss is calming, full of quiet affection—comforting in a way that eases all the tension, like a safe place where nothing else matters.
You could taste your own tears, salty on your lips, but somehow they only make the moment feel more real—more human. There’s something about the way Drew holds you, his lips soft and patient, as if he's absorbing all your hurt without needing to speak.
You pull away just briefly, catching your breath, but before you can even fully regain yourself, Drew leans in again, this time with urgency, as if he needs this kiss more than you.
His lips press against yours, deeper this time, gentle but insistent. His hand moves to your back, pulling you closer as if he’s anchoring himself to you, or to this moment.
You smile against his lips, hands wrapping around his neck.
You want to push him against his bed, take him right there, show him how appreciative you are of him, but seems like, the rest of the world wants him too.
The sound of his friends cheering from outside breaks through the moment, reminding you that Drew has guests over, and this isn't just your time with him.
You pull away, resting your forehead against his, closing your eyes for just a moment to catch your breath.
When you reopen your eyes, you find Drew’s gaze already on you—soft, steady, and full of something unspoken. There’s a quiet intensity in the way he looks at you, like he’s taking in every detail, as if he’s memorizing this moment, just as you are.
“You have- you have people, in the other room,” to your own surprise, you’re stuttering. You pull your head away slightly, finding the fun in tracing the line of his jaw.
“I wanna stay here,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place, but you feel it in your chest, a quiet certainty.
He doesn’t break his stare, and in that moment, it’s like he’s asking you to stay with him too—not just in this room, but in everything he’s feeling, everything you’re both sharing.
“Ask them to leave,” you whisper back, a small smile tugging at your lips, though the words are more playful than serious.
You both know it’s not that simple.
“Join me,” he says, referring to his guys' night, to his friends in the living room.
“Well, at least let me... change, and redo my makeup.”
“I don’t know…” he lets his words trail off, his eyes scanning your features with mischief lurking in them, “they might like- like having a panda around.”
You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch, unable to hide the small smile. You hear Drew’s throaty laugh escape his lips, a sound that makes your heart skip.
“Alright, just… take your time,” he says, his playful tone softening as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a moment longer than expected, like he wants to make sure you feel it.
You watch him, your chest warming at the gesture, as he moves across the room to his dresser.
He pulls it open, rummaging through his clothes, and then, almost casually, he grabs the hoodie you recognize to be 'yours'. It’s his, but with how often you wear it, it’s practically yours now.
Then, in one smooth motion, he opens the top drawer and takes out your shorts, underwear, and bra. He places them beside you, not even needing to say anything—just a small, thoughtful gesture that tells you he knows exactly what you need, even before you ask for it.
You look up at him, surprised by the simplicity of it, but somehow it feels even more intimate than words could say. It’s the way he just gets you, without needing to make a big deal of it.
And because it felt right, you whisper, “I love you.”
Drew’s gaze softens, the teasing smile melting away into something more sincere. His eyes hold yours as he says, “I love you more,” his voice quiet but filled with warmth.
There’s no playfulness now—just honesty, raw and real.
“…now get out of here,” you tease, the corners of your lips lifting into a smirk.
He leans forward, his finger lightly tapping your forehead in a playful push, “so eager to get rid of me?”
“Yes,” you whisper back, and he smiles, shaking his head.
With one last glance, he turns and walks to the door.
And once the door closes behind him, you’re left with a warm feeling in your chest—safe, loved, and entirely at peace.
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happy cny! angpao for everyone <3
i apologize in advance if this isn't good and has mistakes- i wrote it in a rush! (also, i realized there was a sudden pov switch- tf
other
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey imagine#fluff#fiction#request#inbox
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Crosby to be Canada's 'security blanket' as captain at 4 Nations Face-Off
Indeed, is anyone more deserving of the title of Captain Canada?
“He’s up there,” Tocchet said. “And look, I don’t want to embarrass Sid. But from sitting in the locker room across from Wayne Gretzky, the way Wayne’s demeanor is, the way he acted around his teammates, the way he acted in front of the public, Sid’s got that.
“And then you’ve got the Mark Messier type, not afraid to say things to your teammates if needed at the right time. And I’ve seen Sid do that too, using his voice to let them know something is unacceptable. He’s willing to do that. That to me is a great leader. In all facets. One hundred percent.
“The bottom line: When he puts that jersey on, you can sense the calmness come over the entire country of Canada. It’s almost like he’s our security blanket.”
“From the time I first met him, it’s just the way he always looks to raise the bar,” Bergeron said. “We’ve been teammates and linemates in a lot of these tournaments, and he’s never satisfied. He’s always looking to the next thing. He’s able to enjoy the success but at the same time wanting more. It’s his drive, his determination, there’s a lot of reasons why he’s been so clutch and so important in, what you could say, [is] history.
“He commands respect. I think the country is proud of who he is as a person and how he represents us on the international stage. There’s no missteps. It’s been going on since he’s been 14 years old when they started aiming cameras on him. He’s never had a misstep.”
Bergeron is considered one of the top leaders of his era and won the Mark Messier NHL Leadership Award in 2021, an honor Crosby received in 2010.
“I accomplished a lot in my career,” Bergeron said. “But I have to say, I’m so proud that in my time playing, that Sidney was the face of our league and for Canadian hockey. Well deserved.”
Crosby already had his eyes on the 4 Nations prize five months ago, long before he would officially be given the “C” for Team Canada.
Back in early September, Crosby helped organize an unofficial training camp of sorts under the watchful eye of Andy O’Brien, his longtime trainer, in Vail, Colorado. Among those invited to the event were some of Canada’s top players, including Avalanche center Nathan MacKinnon, who like Crosby is from Cole Harbour; Edmonton Oilers center Connor McDavid; and Toronto Maple Leafs forward Mitch Marner.
Crosby insists it wasn’t an official Canada team-bonding exercise, pointing out that there were players from other countries there as well. At the same time, he admits it was productive for some of the Canadians on hand to get the opportunity to develop chemistry and play together, something that could come in handy at the 4 Nations and the 2026 Olympics.
Marner, for one, was appreciative of the invite extended him by Crosby and O’Brien.
“It was great,” he said. “Getting to know Sid and some of those guys both on and off the ice, well, I was grateful that they asked me to join them.
“You get to know them on and off the ice a bit. Such great guys. And so much talent out there with guys like Sid, MacKinnon and McDavid.”
And, according to Team Canada and Tampa Bay Lightning coach Jon Cooper, it was just another example of Crosby’s leadership ability to bring players together for a common goal.
“It’s what he does,” Cooper said. “It’s who he is.
“Look at what he did [last] month when we were in Pittsburgh.”
Cooper was referring to a postgame scene after his team had defeated Crosby and the Penguins 5-2 on Jan. 12, a game in which Tampa Bay scored three goals in the final 3:03 to break a 2-2 tie. The uber-competitive Crosby was upset that victory had eluded the Penguins, but still took time to see Cooper afterward to chat about the 4 Nations.
At one point, Crosby asked Cooper to bring out Lightning forwards Brayden Point, Brandon Hagel and Anthony Cirelli, his future 4 Nations teammates, to talk about the upcoming tournament.
“He here is, angry that his team had just lost a game, and he put that aside to talk Team Canada with them,” Cooper said. “They sat there for 20 minutes. They were like kids in a candy store.
“That right there is what true leadership is.”
And, according to Tocchet, what Crosby is all about.
“It’s unbelievable,” Tocchet said. “He’s a guy that carries the torch, and is willing to pass the torch on when he’s done.
“That’s what he’s doing with Cirelli, Hagel, those guys. He basically comes in and says, ‘Hey, you guys are my teammates in a month, I just want to get to know you real quick and let you know what’s at stake.’ He’s done it with other players. I just think it goes so far with his teammates. They legitimately badly want to play with him, to be his teammate.”
#good article#pittsburgh penguins#sidney crosby#cale makar#connor mcdavid#patrice bergeron#boston bruins#team canada#4 nations face off#nathan mackinnon#toronto maple leafs#colorado avalanche
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genuinely need to scream into the void about Burt and Irving for a second.
I am simply never recovering from how pure their love is despite the evil around them. They’re almost childlike in their affections, and yet their foundation is built upon love of scripture and art and fealty to a religion that will never love them back.
so when Burt is literally ripped away and the structure acts like it’s a happy event with cake and corporate nonsense and not a world ending event it BREAKS Irving. Of course he goes to find Burt during the OTC. Of COURSE he wants to die when he realizes he’s never gonna see Burt again. OF COURSE he’s choked up at the idea of going back to O&D and of COURSE all he ends up wanting to do is to hear about Burt from the woman who knew him more than anyone. Irving has such a big heart and with the image of Lumon and Kier demolished in his mind, that unending devotion has nowhere to go but to the man he loved and lost.
just holy FUCK man. Burt and Irving. I’ll never recover.
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ink and thorns part 2 | hyunjin
part 1
synopsis: hwang hyunjin is the tattoo artist you cannot stand for the life of you, always acting so smug, so horrendous, and always attempting to flirt with you. you hate him, but what happens when you end up in his arms after a traumatic night?
pairing: tattoo artist!hyunjin x fem!reader
genre: enemies to lovers, angst, smut, fluff
warnings: mature & sexually explicit content (18+ recommended), lower case letters intended, swearing, pet names (sweetheart, princess, etc.), mentions of anxiety, cheating (not hyunjin or reader), mentions of losing a parent
nsfw warnings: dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, making out, marking, oral (f!receiving), fingering, praise, light degradation, begging, unprotective penetrative sex (do not), creampie, aftercare
wc: 15.4k
notice: hello, my darlings! tumblr hates me, so here is part 2 of ink and thorns! make sure to check out part 1 before reading this one, and enjoy the longest story i have ever written :,)
divider by: @cafekitsune
it had been three days since the kiss. three days since you had started to replay the moment over and over in your head like a song you could not escape.
the feel of hyunjin's lips against yours, the way his hand cupped the back of your neck, the way he was so gentle yet purposeful in his actions—it all lingered in your mind, no matter how hard you tried to rid yourself of the thoughts.
you had ignored the text he had sent you the night after, heart hammering as you read the words:
fuckass: 'come to the shop after close. we need to talk about what happened.'
the message sat unanswered in your notifications for days on end, just staring back at you like a challenge. every time you thought about replying, doubt crept in, whispering all the reasons as to why you should not answer. you told yourself you had made the right choice in pulling away from him, that it was a mistake, a moment of weakness per se. letting go was the only way to protect yourself from getting hurt again.
right?
but then there were the nights when the memory of his eyes, soft and full of something you were terrified to admit, kept you awake. during the daytime, you sat hazed at work, unable to stop wondering about him—how he was doing, if he missed you, and most importantly, if he was thinking about the kiss just like you were.
the weight of uncertainty fell upon your shoulders, and it pushed you to the point where you found yourself standing outside of prism ink well after the moon had settled into the sky. the feeling had been eating away at you, gnawing at your gut.
you had to do something about it.
the lights were still on, though the neon sign perched on the corner of the indoor window seal flickered 'closed' in bright red letters. through the glass, you could see hyunjin bent over his sketchbook at the counter, his head resting in his hand. suddenly, the memories flooded over you once more, and doubt reached your limbs as you reached for the door handle. part of you wanted to turn around, to leave before he noticed anyone was there; however, the other part, which had brought you here in the first place, won out.
you pushed the door open, the soft jingle of the bell breaking through the quiet; you were surprised it was unlocked to begin with. hyunjin's head snapped up, surprise flashing across his face before it shifted into unreadability.
"y/n?" he called quietly, setting down his pencil. “what are you doing here?”
"i...i saw the light on." you hovered by the door, unsure of whether or not to approach him. he nodded, his gaze steady as he gestured towards the leather chair at his station.
"come sit. please. i want to talk to you."
you swallowed hard, feeling reluctant but obeying nevertheless. you crossed the room and sank into the chair. hyunjin did not move right away, watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.
"where have you been?" he asked finally; his voice was low, deeper than usual, but nowhere near accusing. "why didn't you text back?"
"i didn't know what to say." you looked down fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.
"i wish you would have said something." hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his buzzed follicles of blonde hair.
"what would it have changed?" you questioned, your voice more frustrated than you intended.
"everything," he retorted, leaning forward. "or maybe nothing. i don't know, but at least i wouldn't be sitting here wondering how you really felt about the other night."
you flinched at the honesty in his words, your throat tightening.
"i don't know, hyunjin," you admitted, your voice barely rising above a whisper. "i don't know what i feel."
hyunjin watched you for a moment, his expression undeterminable. then he stood, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the counter in front of you.
"i understand," he said softly. "if i’m being completely honest, i don’t know how i feel either, but it doesn’t mean i don’t want to…navigate, i guess, these feelings. together."
you looked up at him, your heart pounding through your ribcage.
"why?"
"why what?"
"why do you want to? and why do you care so much?"
"because that night," hyunjin began, “that kiss awakened something in me.” hyunjin's lips curved into a faint smirk, but his eyes stayed serious. his words knocked the air out of your lungs, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.
“don’t-”
“don’t what? call it what it is? we can’t keep pretending like it didn’t happen, y/n. whether you want to admit it or not, we kissed. we fucking kissed. and like i said, we need to talk about it. we need to talk about us.”
"us? what us are you referring to exactly? you barely know me." you mirrored his words from the ramen restaurant, trembling as you spoke.
"maybe i don't," he replied, "but i know i want to."
the sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, but your mind began to wander to other subjects at hand. you looked at hyunjin, diverging from the matter at hand.
"why are you even here, hyunjin? like, at the studio after close? it doesn’t make sense.”
hyunjin hesitated at the question, his gaze dropping to the floor. "i…i’ve been staying late every night. i was hoping there was some chance you would see my text and show up, and well, here we are."
hyunjin ended the confession with a dry laugh, but the vulnerability in his admission sent a wave of warmth and guilt crashing over you.
"i’m sorry,” you finally apologized after a few moments of silence. “i didn't mean to hurt you," you told him, your fingers twisting together in your lap.
"i know," he responded, looking at you once more. "but you did, because you matter to me, whether you want to accept that or not." the weight of his words settled over you, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe them. to believe him.
believing him, however, was fucking scary.
"i don't know how to do this," you confessed, your manner cracking as you felt a deep pit rest in your gut. "i don't know if i can let somebody care about me on that level after…what happened last time. i don't want to get hurt again."
for the first time that night, hyunjin approached you, crouching in front of you so that you were eye level.
"let's get a couple things out of the way," he said gently. "first, i have absolutely no intention of hurting you. i'm not your ex, and i don't want to be. second, i can show you how to be loved. properly. we don't have to rush into things. we can take it one step at a time. no pressure, no expectations, no secrets. just me and you."
tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away, nodding slowly at his words. hyunjin reached for your hand, his touch warm and steady. his fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you could not help but notice the closeness of his actions.
the air between you felt charged, heavy with an energy that neither of you dared to acknowledge aloud. his eyes scanned yours, flicking down to your lips and back again, as thought he was weighing a decision.
"can i," he started, almost whispering. "can i kiss you again?"
you did not answer with words; instead, you leaned in, closing the distance. the moment your lips met, it was as if the world melted away. the kiss was not like the first one. it was not hesitant, unsure, or slow; it was urgent, almost desperate, as if both of you had been waiting for this since the first time your lips had locked together.
hyunjin's free hand cupped your jaw, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheek as he deepened the kiss. you tilted your head, allowing him to press closer, his breath warm against your skin. your hands found their way to his shoulders, the firm muscle beneath the hoodie he was wearing grounding you as you let yourself fall into the moment. his touch was careful, but there was a hunger beneath it that made your pulse race.
when his lips left yours to trail along your jaw, you gasped softly, your fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly. he chuckled against your skin, the sound low and satisfied, before moving to press a kiss just below your ear.
"hyun," you breathed, your voice barely audible.
"hmm?" he hummed, his lips ghosting over the upper region of your neck, just underneath your earlobe. "words, princess."
you did not know what you were going to say, but the way his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, made words impossible either way. the chair beneath you creaked slightly as you shifted, and hyunjin froze for a moment, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he let out a soft giggle.
"not here," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement.
"excuse me?" you asked, your voice dazed as you tried to process the sudden halt. hyunjin pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips curving into a teasing smile.
"i don't want to have to clean up the chair," he said, his tone light but his eyes still heavy with lingering heat. "plus, it's kind of weird tattooing other clients on a chair where you've fucked your girl." the comment snapped you out of your haze, and you swatted at his chest, your cheeks burning.
"first of all, you're unbelievable," you began, your cheeks burning with lingering anticipation. "second of all, your girl?"
"firstly," he started, mirroring your words, "you're the one who showed up after hours."
"you're the one who kissed me!"
"and you kissed me back," he replied smugly, pressing his pointer finger to your nose briefly to accentuate his words, "which leads me to point numero dos: friends don't make out in a tattoo parlor after hours. so, yes. my girl."
you could not argue with either of his points, so you just glared at him, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you by twitching upwards. hyunjin's expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes giving way to something more tender.
"i'm serious, though," he reaffirmed. "i don't want to rush you or this…interesting little relationship we have."
you studied him, your chest tightening at his sincerity.
"me neither." he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.
"good."
the days following that night felt different; the air between you and hyunjin had blossomed into an unexpected relationship; once the man you scrunched your nose in disgust at, hyunjin had morphed into the person you craved to be around. a subtle but growing trust had formed that made everything seem lighter.
you found yourself visiting the shop more often, lingering over the sketches hyunjin worked on, sometimes just talking and sometimes sitting in comfortable silence. you also began visiting each other more, whether it was just for a quick coffee run or an entire movie night together; spending time with him just felt right. over time, you had felt a certain fondness bloom in your heart for him; he was a beautiful person, inside and out, and you felt as if you could truly trust him.
which, in your mind, was absolutely terrifying.
one afternoon, you were sitting across from hyunjin at his work-desk, watching as he sketched; his pencil moved fluidly over the paper, his talent always surprising you. he did not have a client at the time, nor did he have one scheduled for a while, but he was still intensely absorbed into his work, almost seeming unreachable due to his concentration.
"i've been thinking," you said suddenly, breaking the silence.
"about what, sweetheart?" he paused, looking up from his paper with his eyebrows raised, his pencil still firmly placed upon the sketch.
"i want you to design my next tattoo."
he tilted his head slightly, his gaze studying you as if you were joking.
"okay..." he glanced at the designs pinned to the wall behind him, then back at you. "whatcha got in mind?" you hesitated to answer, the pressure of your decision pressing on your chest.
"i want something full," you explained. "another floral piece. a sleeve, to be more specific."
hyunjin's eyes lit up at the challenge, but he did not speak right away, as though he was contemplating your request.
"i want you to have full creative freedom," you continued, your voice sure of what you wanted. "i want you to design something you think would fit me."
hyunjin studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. then, he smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your chest tighten with undeniable love.
"i won't disappoint you then, princess," he replied, his tone steady.
"good," you remarked, feeling a strange weight lift off of your shoulders. "take your time. i want to be sure about it." hyunjin nodded, his fingers drumming against the side of his desk as he processed your words. then, with a small grin, he responded.
"i've got an idea already. i'll start working on it tonight. trust me."
in a matter of a week or so, hyunjin sent over the final sketch. when you opened the message, you could not help but gasp.
the design was absolutely breathtaking. flowers of every kind, from roses to peonies and, of course, a daisy as the centerpiece, wrapped around the sketch paper in a fluid, graceful swirl. the shading was delicate, the lines bold yet soft, with each bloom seeming to tell its own story.
"you really did it," you whispered, your fingers tracing the image on your screen.
fuckass<3: 'you like it?" you: 'i love it."
you took a few moments before typing out another message to him.
you: 'come over so we can talk about it?'
the reply came faster than expected.
fuckass<3: 'be there in half an hour, sweetheart.'
you smiled at the response, a small sense of relief flooding through you. the next thirty minutes passed in a blur of excitement until you heard a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find hyunjin standing there, a familiar, small smile on his face.
"hey," he greeted, stepping inside. "i know i’m a little late. i’m honestly surprised you didn’t text me when the clock hit thirty-one minutes."
"didn't think much of it," you replied, giggling nervously. "didn't wanna bother you if you were still at work either."
"bother me?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he kicked off his shoes. "you? never."
you chuckled at the comment, and how his tone was somehow both sarcastic and genuine, as you led him to the living room, where you had cleared a spot on the coffee table for the sketch he had sent. the piece was printed out now, laid flat and looking more impressive than it did on your phone.
"i want to make sure this is exactly what i want," you admitted, sitting down on the couch, your eyes fixated on the paper. "i absolutely love it, don't get me wrong. i just know i'm asking for a lot, and that there's a lot of meaning behind getting an entire sleeve. i just want to be sure i'm not getting it for the sake of getting it."
hyunjin sat down next to you, his gaze moving from the tattoo to you. his expression softened, the teasing edge gone and replaced with understanding. he rested a gentle hand on your thigh, looking at you as he spoke.
"you don't have to get it, y'know," he responded firmly yet reassuringly. "i won't be offended. plus, i can always change it if you want me to."
"no," you shook your head, feeling the moment settle into your gut. "i do want it. it's just..."
"just what?" he prompted, his voice soothing as he moved his hand from your thigh to your upper back.
"i trust you a lot with this," you stated, your voice dropping to a whisper, "and doing so is…well, it’s kind of a big deal for me."
hyunjin did not say anything at first. he just let the silence sit, absorbing your words before his free hand found its way to yours. his fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that felt comforting.
"you trust me?" he asked quietly, a shake trembling in his words.
"yes," you responded without hesitation. "i really like you hyunjin...if that wasn't already obvious."
"no, not at all," he teased. "i have girls kiss me after hours in the shop all the time, and they feel absolutely nothing." he ended his sarcasm with a smirk, causing you to roll your eyes.
"this is why i didn't say anything," you sing-songedly replied, looking away from his gaze. "but, yes. i do trust you."
the air suddenly felt thick with unspoken tension. hyunjin turned fully toward you, sneaking a finger under your jaw in order to turn your head back towards him.
"you don't know how much that means to me," he whispered as his lips quivered into a small, knowing smile. without warning, he leaned a little closer, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he leaned into the crook of your neck. "you make me happy, y'know that?"
your heart raced, and your pulse quickened in response to his closeness, his words stirring something intense inside of you.
"i do?" you asked, your voice breathless, betraying the casualness you were trying to maintain.
"absolutely," he quietly murmured. his hand moved, brushing over the back of your neck, his fingers gently threading through your hair. the touch was light, almost tender, but there was a lust behind it that made your breathing hitch.
you glanced up at him, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, unsure of where this was leading but not wanting to stop it.
"hyun," you mumbled, almost in the audibility of a whine.
"yes, princess?" he removed his head from your neck and somehow leaned in even closer, his lips just a hair from yours.
"i uh..." you stuttered as you tried to speak, but hyunjin cut you off, finally closing the space in between the two of you as your lips pressed against each other's. his hand moved to cup your jaw as his tongue moved against yours, deliberate, erotic, and entirely unexpected.
your heart skipped a beat when he pushed you down, hovering over you on the couch. he pressed his body into yours by instinct, and you let out the softest of moans at the contact.
"not here," you whined, mirroring his words from just nights ago. "too uncomfortable."
"hmm," hyunjin hummed, his lips parting from yours as his face hovered mere inches away from yours. "show me to your bedroom then, sweetheart."
he swiftly climbed off of you and you snatched his hand in yours, running to the end of the right-side hallway in your home. as soon as you made it in, hyunjin took you in his arms, tossing you carefully backwards onto your comfortable, queen-sized bed. he mounted over top of you once again, his knee slotting in between your legs and pressing right where you needed him, eliciting another soft whimper from your end.
"so needy, sweetheart," he mumbled, his lips dipping down to your neck as he lightly kissed the skin. "barely done anything, and look at ya."
"shut up," you mumbled, becoming shy from the intensity of his stare.
"how about you make me? hm?"
with that, you caught him in another kiss, your hands grasping either side of his face and occasionally running through the blonde stubs of hair on his head.
"lift up your arms for me," he mumbled against your lips. "this shirt's not doing either of us any good." you obliged without hesitation and raised your arms above your head; hyunjin swiftly pulled your black, loosely-fitted t-shirt over your head and threw it somewhere on your bedroom floor, opting to worry about the mess later.
"you are so fucking beautiful, y'know that?" hyunjin did not alott time for a response before delving into the crook of your neck and kissing it lightly. he hummed against the column as he began to suck, bite, and kiss every exposed area of skin he could. it did not take long for him to find the sensitive spot below your ear once more, and he paid close attention to the spot, marking it in a darker shade of purple than the other bruises he had left.
"hyunnie, o-oh my gosh," you moaned out, desperate to have his mouth attached to other, more sensitive areas. he smirked against your neck, seemingly able to read your mind as he started to move lower. he left a light trail of kisses from your now assaulted neck, and down your chest and stomach until he reached your waistline, just above the hem of your jeans.
"you okay with taking this further?" hyunjin questioned, looking up at you with glossy eyes. you nodded desperately in response, and hyunjin made quick work of the button on your jeans, undoing it and the zipper before pulling down your pants and underwear. in true hyunjin fashion, his movements were not swift in the slightest; they were agonizingly slow and teasing, seeming as if he was trying to let his personality shine through in the moment.
you squirmed due to the unhurried movements, trying to wiggle your pants off yourself; this caused hyunjin to let out an amused giggle.
"relax, sweetheart." hyunjin teased. "we have all night." he finally snaked off the garments and threw them on the floor along with your shirt.
"fuck," was all he could say as he took the sight of you in. you were glistening, for lack of a better term; hyunjin's words, his marks, and everything in between that had happened moments prior had already caused a fair amount of arousal to pool in your core. absentmindedly, he ran a cool finger through your folds, coating the tip with your slick and using it to spread the arousal all over your pussy.
"so wet already," hyunjin breathed out as he continued his tantalizing movements. "need some help with that, princess?"
"please!" you yelped out, desperate for some sort of sensation to ease the throbbing lust.
your reactions only made hyunjin's ferality grow, and he wasted no time in getting to work on your pleasure. he first snagged the hem of his hoodie, shrugging it off of his shoulders and throwing it aside. he got to work shortly after, focusing first on your clit and alternating between licking and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, allowing his tongue to drag itself a bit lower down your core each time.
"you taste so sweet," he moaned. "better than i ever imagined you to." at his words, you let out a rough sigh blended between pleasure and relief, instinctively moving a hand up to cover your face from meekness.
"mm-mm," hyunjin hummed against you, gently moving the hiding arm down as he made intense, passionate eye contact with you. "wanna see you when i make you feel good."
hyunjin's vibrations against you sent a course of jolts through your body, causing your moans to pick up in pitch and pace. with the acceleration of your moans came the quickening of hyunjin's movements, as he gained a moderate rhythm to his movements against you. it was not long before a knot began to tighten in your stomach.
as if he knew your body's every signal, hyunjin's lips pulled away from your clit; before you could protest, you felt something chilled prodding at your entrance, causing you to flicker your gaze downwards through your entranced haze.
hyunjin slipped his middle finger through your entrance with ease, pumping the singular digit slowly but thoroughly in and out of you; occasionally, he curled it in order to brush against your g-spot. you watched the tattoos shift on his body as he worked, everything from hearts to flowers to symbols moving in perfect rhythm with his fingers. you felt a string of moans catch in your throat, too nervous to let them go in fear that the neighbors or an unexpected guest would hear.
"don't hold back," hyunjin commanded, never once breaking eye contact with you. "moan for me baby. let me hear those pretty noises."
as if to add emphasis to his demand, hyunjin inserted his ring-finger inside of you; with that, any embarrassment and hesitation caught in your body vanquished. every noise held within you tumbled out of your lips in broken whines, moans, and whimpers. your newfound confidence in your noises made hyunjin's arousal peak, and he quickened his pace, pumping in and out of you in accelerated sync.
"good fucking girl," he praised, moving his thumb up to brush against your clit, both motions feeling inhumanely paced as they synchronized.
"close," you whimpered out, your thighs trembling ever so slightly as the knot in your stomach became too much to bear.
"yeah? you wanna cum?" hyunjin asked in between languid movements of his fingers. "then beg for it."
"h-huh?" the words caught you entirely off guard, and you felt your cheeks heat up at hyunjin's command.
"what? you didn't think your first time with me was going to be easy, did you, sweetheart?" hyunjin sarcastically cooed, slowing his fingers down. "after the way you treated me when you first started coming to me for tats, i think i deserve a little vengeance."
"seriously?" you whined. "i thought that was behind us!"
"never assume, princess," his low voice answered, the dominance of it only turning you on further. "now, beg to cum or i'm the only one that gets to feel anything tonight."
you bit your lips in response, closing your eyes tightly from embarrassment.
"please..."
"please what, sweetheart?"
"please let me cum! please, please! i'm sorry for treating you like an ass! please let me cum, hyunnie, please!"
"attagirl. let go, princess."
hyunjin took your pleads as encouragement, swiftening his movements with ever 'please' as his fingers rapidly brushed against your g-spot. moans filled every corner of the room as you finally came undone. your hips stuttered, accidently pressing themselves into hyunjin's face as your fingers held onto hyunjin's shoulders to brace yourself. your arousal covered hyunjin’s fingers as he leisurely removed them, chuckling at the remnants still spilling out of you.
"you did so well for me, pretty," hyunjin breathed out, licking his fingers clean of your slick. "so, so sweet," he groaned as he lavished in the taste. you replied by sitting up, kissing hyunjin with much more hunger than you had previously. his hands found the supple skin of your waist, massaging it lightly as he kissed you.
you moved your hands down his torso, finally having time to drink the sight of him in. he was lean, fit, and toned, each muscle of his glimmering under the soft light in your bedroom. you traced each curve of his body, relishing in the way he shivered under your touch. your fingers sculpted over his abs before reaching the hem of his joggers, hooking under the waistband as you looked at him for approval.
"go for it, princess," hyunjin responded to your doe-gaze; with his help, you shimmied his pants and boxers down, allowing his cock to spring free from its prior entrapment. before you could verbalize your astoundment over his lengthy cock, hyunjin manhandled you into a new position to where he was over top of you once more.
"having fun?" he cheekily asked, eliciting a nervous giggle from you.
"loads," you genuinely replied.
"good," he answered. "now, spread those legs for me so the fun can continue."
you shifted your position to where you were doing just that, wrapping your legs around his middle and giving him just enough access to your entrance. hyunjin smirked, his gaze lustfully piercing as he used his hand to take your jaw in his grip.
"here's what's gonna happen," hyunjin lowly growled. "you're going to keep those pretty eyes on me while i fuck you, and you're going to be as loud as you can. make sense?" you nodded, only feening for his touch.
hyunjin smirked, lining himself up with your entrance and getting verbal confirmation that you were ready before slowly pushing himself inside of you. the stretch you felt was delicious, the pain of it quickly dissipating as you lost yourself in the fullness of the feeling. hyunjin was still for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. you gave him the go-ahead, and he slowly began to drag his length out of you before slightly thrusting back in.
"holy shit," hyunjin groaned out, developing a pace to his thrusts. "you're so warm. so tight. feels so good, sweetheart."
a plethora of noises filled the air as hyunjin sped up ever-so-slightly, containing moans, praises, and whimpers as you hazed from the pleasure. you felt tears well up in your eyes both from the intensity and from the sheer ecstasy of the moment.
"awe," hyunjin cooed as he used a finger to trace your jawline. "you're crying over my cock. how adorable."
"s-shut up!" you whimpered, bucking your hips up to meet his.
"as you wish, your majesty."
hyunjin's hips swiftened moreso, and your hips began a rhythm against his. with the quickened pace, it was not long until your second orgasm crept up on you. hyunjin began to stutter in his movements slightly, desperately determined to make you both finish.
"'m close," he repeated several times over, his fingers digging into your shoulders.
"me too," you responded in the tone of a whine. "j-just like that, hyunnie, keep going."
he thrusted faster than he had ever managed to before, his nails leaving slight indents on your upper body as his own climax snuck up on him.
"where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?" he inquired; in response, you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him in to signal that you wanted him to finish inside of you. the effort elicited a teasing chuckle from hyunjin as he neared his release.
you came undone first, your second orgasm much more intense than the shockwaves of the first. you rolled your eyes back as you shook against hyunjin's body, creaming all over his length. the sight alone was enough to bring hyunjin to his finish, and he let himself go, releasing his cum inside of you with a loud, guttural groan.
as both of you came down from the high of the moment, hyunjin let himself down slowly, laying on top of you as he let out a sigh of relief.
"you okay?" he asked quietly, wrapping his tattooed arms tightly around your middle.
"mhm," you hummed in the crook of his neck. "felt so good."
your incoherent, dazed mumbling allowed hyunjin to laugh; he retracted from your embrace, slowly pulling out of you as he stood up. he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.
"let's get you cleaned up, pretty girl."
the low hum of the tattoo machine filled the room, its light buzz mingling with the soft rock music playing inside of the parlor. the scent of antiseptic and ink hung in the air, but it was much more familiar than the first time you had stepped through the door.
you sat in hyunjin's chair, the final moments of your floral sleeve session underway. after countless days of endless outlining, shading, and coloring, hyunjin had declared he would be finishing the piece that very day. as such, you had arrived that morning with him as he opened the shop, as he told you it was going to be a long, excruciating session. hours upon hours had passed of slow, methodical work, with each remaining petal, leaf, and vine etched with care and precision. each design symbolized, to you, an act of trust and healing.
the piece sprawled gracefully along your arm, cascading from your shoulder to your wrist like a garden in full bloom. roses, lilies, and the daisy in the center, were carefully placed to symbolize the trials of your life, and furthermore the growth of a new person.
your boyfriend worked in silence, his brows furrowed in concentration, the light catching the sharp line of his jaw. his buzzed hair had grown slightly, softening his look but keeping the familiar intensity of his features. his free hand intertwined with yours, your thumb rubbing over the ink on his knuckles for comfort.
you watched him, a small smile tugging at your lips as you traced the lines of his face with your eyes. it was hard to believe how much the two of you had changed, and how much had changed between you, in such a short time.
"all done," hyunjin finally said, switching off the machine and leaning back to admire both his work and you. he reached for a mirror, angling it just over the tattoo so you could properly look at it. you took a deep breath, holding it up to examine the completed sleeve. the colors were vibrant, each floral design leaping off your skin with intricate detail. "what do you think?"
"it's beautiful," you whispered thickly with emotion. "it's so perfect."
"it's you." hyunjin smiled, his cocky grin replaced with a beam of sincerity. "it's your beauty mixed with everything you've been through. i knew this was going to symbolize you to a tee."
your chest tightened at his words, the genuineness in his voice making your heart swell. you set the mirror down and turned to him, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had done for you; not just the tattoo, but the way he had been your rock, supported you, even when you had tried to push him away.
"thank you," you told him, your voice trembling slightly. "for everything."
"you don't have to thank me, sweetheart." hyunjin's gaze softened, and he reached out to softly cup your cheek. "think of this as my way of helping you see what i see: a strong, gorgeous flower that can stand any test of time."
your breath caught at his words, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. it was steady, sure, and appreciation you could not put into words. hyunjin kissed you back with equal gentleness, his hand cradling your face as he pulled you closer. when you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, and you could not help but smile.
"y’know, i think i'm falling for you, fuckass," you giggled out.
"i've been falling for you," hyunjin chuckled as he brushed a thumb over your cheek. "you’re mine, and i'm yours. no getting rid of me now."
you laughed, the sound light and carefree, and leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"i think i can live with that."
“just don’t think that being my girlfriend gets you out of paying.”
“oh, you!” you slapped at hyunjin’s chest, immediately wincing from the ever-present tenderness of your freshly-inked arm.
“mhm,” hyunjin smirked. “that’s what you get for bullying me.”
as you left the tattoo shop that evening, your new tattoo carefully protected after earlier’s wince, you could not help but glance at hyunjin, who was walking beside you with his hand resting on your lower back. the streetlights bathed everything in a golden glow, and for the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful about the future. whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you had hyunjin by your side as you faced them.
your story was just beginning, and you could not wait to see where it would take you.
Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)
#stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#stray kids smut#bang chan#lee know#changbin#han#felix#seungmin#jeongin#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin smut#hyunjin angst#hyunjin fluff#tattoo artist hyunjin#buzz cut hyunjin#peachiejeongin
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Bellamy Blake — The Protector
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Bellamy Blake doesn’t just protect with words or empty promises—he protects with action, with instinct, with everything he has. It’s in his blood to keep the people he loves safe, but with you? It’s different. It’s deeper. Because losing you once nearly destroyed him, and he refuses to let it happen again.
1. Physical Protection – He’s Always Between You and Danger
Bellamy doesn’t just stand by when there’s a threat—he moves. Always putting himself between you and danger, always the first to react. If a fight breaks out, his body is already shielding yours. If there’s a gunshot, his first instinct is to push you down and cover you.
It’s automatic. Instinctual.
• If the Grounders attack, he’s in front of you.
• If you’re injured, he’s carrying you.
• If someone threatens you, he’s ready to put a knife to their throat.
He doesn’t care who it is—enemy, ally, even a member of his own camp—if they make you feel unsafe, he’s making it very clear that won’t fly.
“Say that again,” his voice drops, dark and dangerous, stepping closer to whoever dared disrespect you. “See what happens.”
Bellamy isn’t reckless—he knows when to pick his battles—but when it comes to you, there is no battle too small.
2. The Subtle, Everyday Protection – He Watches Everything
Bellamy’s protectiveness isn’t always loud. It’s in the little things:
• He watches you. Constantly, even when you think he isn’t. He notices the way your hands shake when you’re exhausted, how you wince when you’re injured but try to hide it, how you shrink into yourself when you’re overwhelmed.
• He keeps you close. Whether it’s walking beside you instead of in front, keeping a hand on your lower back, or making sure you sleep next to him at camp—Bellamy is always within reach.
• He makes sure you eat. He’ll push extra rations your way, hand you a piece of fruit without a word, or glare until you take a bite. “I don’t care if you’re not hungry,” he mutters. “Eat.”
• He makes sure you rest. If you’re running yourself into the ground, he’ll step in—dragging you away from whatever you’re doing, sitting you down, and pressing a water bottle into your hands. “Five minutes. Just breathe.”
3. The Way He Fights for You – Even Against Yourself
Sometimes, the biggest threat isn’t the world—it’s you. Bellamy knows that better than anyone.
If you’re spiraling, if you start blaming yourself for things out of your control, he won’t let it slide. He won’t let you carry the weight alone.
“You’re not doing this.” His voice is sharp, but his hands are gentle as they frame your face, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t get to act like you’re alone in this. You have me.”
He means it.
He sees you, even when you’re trying to hide. He knows your tells—the way your shoulders tense when you’re overwhelmed, the way your breath hitches when you’re about to break. And before you can push him away, he’s already pulling you in.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, arms wrapping around you, strong and steady. “I got you.”
Because no matter what happens, no matter what battles you face—you will never fight alone again.
4. The Jealous, Overprotective Side – “She’s With Me.”
Bellamy isn’t the kind of guy who gets jealous easily—but when he does? You know it.
He doesn’t need to say much. Sometimes, it’s just the way he stands a little closer when someone flirts with you, how his hand finds your waist, fingers pressing just enough to remind you he’s there. Other times? It’s not so subtle.
• If someone won’t take a hint, Bellamy steps in, gaze dark and unforgiving. “She’s with me.” His voice is low, a warning, a promise.
• If someone so much as touches you the wrong way, he’s throwing punches. No hesitation. No remorse.
• And later, when it’s just the two of you, he’ll grip your chin, tilting your face to his. “You don’t let them talk to you like that, you hear me?” His thumb brushes your cheek, voice softer now. “You’re mine.”
It’s not about possession—it’s about protection. About making sure you never doubt just how much you mean to him.
5. The Ultimate Promise – “I Won’t Lose You Again.”
Bellamy has lost too much. His mother. His childhood. He lost you once, and he swore he’d never let it happen again.
That promise isn’t just words—it’s in everything he does.
• It’s in the way he pulls you against him at night, like if he lets go, you’ll disappear.
• It’s in the way his lips brush your forehead, lingering as if to remind himself you’re real.
• It’s in the way he fights for you, every single day.
And if you ever doubt it, if you ever think for even a second that he wouldn’t burn the world down for you—he’ll prove you wrong. Every time.
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xoxo Alexa <3.
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